Post by Sirensea on Jun 29, 2018 1:52:08 GMT
—— @kye , Foxfeather , & Ferndrop
sirensea was cold. the weather was frigid - for the rockclanner, especially so. her short fur provided its owner little refuge, and allowed the cold to creep past with little to no resistance. and the cold bit. it numbed her skin and gnawed at the bone beneath with a painful sort of persistence, an ache both dull and bee sting bright. but she would not let it show. her teeth did not chatter, and her body did not tremble. she was to seem as though she were carved from marble - unmoving and uncaring.
and it was in this way she led her clan to the shared clearing. when they arrived, she drew to a stop, allowing her clanmates to take their places wherever they pleased. gritting small, doll-like teeth, and with a carefulness unsuited to the anxiety churning in her chest, sirensea manoeuvred her body up the oak tree, digging pearl-pallid claws into firm bark. the second she made contact with a solid branch, she took it. she glanced down, and gulped. rockclanners had never belonged in trees, and they never would.
eyes half-closed but very much watching, and paper-thin ears swivelling, she waited.