Post by Honeyflare on Sept 5, 2022 1:31:00 GMT -6
HONEYFLARE
The sting in his back pushed nervous paws forward. A reminder that he shouldn’t be out so far, so late, traveling into a treason of his own devising. A reminder of exactly why it all needed to be done. At least in these meetings, it wasn’t all up to him. That was the point, after all. For the group to find solutions together. What really made it difficult to flatten his pelt was the idea that he might get caught, be it by the supposed MoonClan cat, an outsider getting defensive, or worst yet, a suspicious Clanmate. If the Clans found out what they were up to, it would be much worse than if he was caught asking the wrong cat for help. Too many of them could be exposed.
Relief settled into Honeyflare’s chest as he finally came upon the little cave that currently served as their meeting place. The bushes surrounding it were largely undisturbed, and the scent was normal. They hadn’t been exposed yet.
He took a little extra effort to not rub against the surrounding plants too much, wanting to leave as little of his scent as possible, before settling into his usual spot. He always seemed to come just a little too early. In the back of his mind, he wondered what his mother had to think of seeing him head off to his own private Gatherings, sitting in his own dedicated spot like he was anything close to a leader. Honeyflare liked to assume that that was just grief invading his thoughts, and quickly banished it to keep his senses alert for the joining of others. Unlike proper Gatherings, they couldn’t all flood in at once. They had to put a little bit of time between sneaking out of camp, lest their mass migration alert the others.
In the meantime, he had something specific he wanted to propose. He’d been planning just what to say for days, and yet, even now he felt unprepared. So, he’d use the little bit of wait time to practice his words, ready his thoughts and answers for questions that might be asked. He hadn’t been to a meeting since his injuries. He tried not to think of what others might say, tried not to think of the shocks of white that scored his back and sides, highlighting patches of fur that hadn’t properly come back yet were otherwise hidden. Think of the plan. We need a plan.
Relief settled into Honeyflare’s chest as he finally came upon the little cave that currently served as their meeting place. The bushes surrounding it were largely undisturbed, and the scent was normal. They hadn’t been exposed yet.
He took a little extra effort to not rub against the surrounding plants too much, wanting to leave as little of his scent as possible, before settling into his usual spot. He always seemed to come just a little too early. In the back of his mind, he wondered what his mother had to think of seeing him head off to his own private Gatherings, sitting in his own dedicated spot like he was anything close to a leader. Honeyflare liked to assume that that was just grief invading his thoughts, and quickly banished it to keep his senses alert for the joining of others. Unlike proper Gatherings, they couldn’t all flood in at once. They had to put a little bit of time between sneaking out of camp, lest their mass migration alert the others.
In the meantime, he had something specific he wanted to propose. He’d been planning just what to say for days, and yet, even now he felt unprepared. So, he’d use the little bit of wait time to practice his words, ready his thoughts and answers for questions that might be asked. He hadn’t been to a meeting since his injuries. He tried not to think of what others might say, tried not to think of the shocks of white that scored his back and sides, highlighting patches of fur that hadn’t properly come back yet were otherwise hidden. Think of the plan. We need a plan.
