Post by MM on Jul 27, 2016 6:02:04 GMT
❊ BACK TO NEVERLAND ❊
It was still a bit hard to get into the patrolling mind-set of not racing off to see what strange scent your nose picked up, stick on the route Mudfish or I’ll clobber you again. Well, channelled Whiterose for a minute there, but the sentiment’s the same anyway, he thought wryly as he padded to where he was supposed to meet his patrol mates for the day. They were to be a group of three this fine green-leaf morning, the sun just starting to brandish its hefty rays on the earth below. Mudfish was somehow earliest to rise, judging by the fact that he made it to the edge of the camp first.
Immediately his amber eyes caught the twinkling reflection of light from the river’s surface and immediately his paws itched to be immersed in water. Mudfish was the total opposite of a drypaw: indeed, call him a wetpaw, a drenchedpaw even. How nice it was to have a good ol’ soak when it was high noon and the heat at its hottest! He pitied the other clans that didn’t have ways of cooling down in the warmer seasons, but then again what was he doing now? Sitting on land, tail curled in the air like an agitated question mark, and about to embark on a short journey that would require no swimming whatsoever.
Not unless, of course, he could persuade his patrol buddies to let him have a little fun. Mudfish didn’t even remember who Zinnianose had proclaimed his partners the night before, figuring that he’d been asleep on his paws after a long day of paddling up and down the river, fishing. It had been so exquisitely enjoyable though, not gonna lie, bet your whiskers on that.
So there the chocolate tom sat, waiting for two mystery cats, not even facing towards the camp but instead out at the river view. They could yowl his name if they wanted to get his attention, even come up and clout his head for all he cared, because for now Mudfish was lost in admiring a scene more beautiful than any cat could ever be.
Immediately his amber eyes caught the twinkling reflection of light from the river’s surface and immediately his paws itched to be immersed in water. Mudfish was the total opposite of a drypaw: indeed, call him a wetpaw, a drenchedpaw even. How nice it was to have a good ol’ soak when it was high noon and the heat at its hottest! He pitied the other clans that didn’t have ways of cooling down in the warmer seasons, but then again what was he doing now? Sitting on land, tail curled in the air like an agitated question mark, and about to embark on a short journey that would require no swimming whatsoever.
Not unless, of course, he could persuade his patrol buddies to let him have a little fun. Mudfish didn’t even remember who Zinnianose had proclaimed his partners the night before, figuring that he’d been asleep on his paws after a long day of paddling up and down the river, fishing. It had been so exquisitely enjoyable though, not gonna lie, bet your whiskers on that.
So there the chocolate tom sat, waiting for two mystery cats, not even facing towards the camp but instead out at the river view. They could yowl his name if they wanted to get his attention, even come up and clout his head for all he cared, because for now Mudfish was lost in admiring a scene more beautiful than any cat could ever be.
