whitesand

The greenleaf sun scorched down on all the territories, and soon enough, Whitesand found himself looking for respite in the swamp. The long, mossy trees and boggy land offered relief from the gruelling heat - especially for a long-furred tom like himself. With a sigh, the shadowclan warrior skillfully avoided areas of the swamp that would suck him in, deep below the surface, trapped in mud. It brought memories of apprentice-hood, long days spent learning how to navigate the territories and skills that no other clan would know. Although Whitesand could happily look back on those days, there always was a nagging feeling that pulled him towards his relationship with his mother, Ravenfrost, who had been distant due to her grief. He couldn't blame her, but it certainly hurt.

Shaking the thought out of his head, the light brown and cream tom continued, catching the scent of a frog. If I'm going to be out here, I might as well be useful. Stalking skillfully through the swamp, Whitesand caught sight of his prey and prepared to pounce. Suddenly, the frog bounced away, startled by movement. The warrior quickly turned to the sound, ready to confront a trespasser, "Show yourself." He spoke, evenly yet firmly.