[Phoenix]

Dusk was a lovely time of day, but Hiddenheart wasn't sure how many cats stopped to enjoy it. Of course, they all had their duties to do: hunting, patrolling, getting some last minute training done. All important to clan life, but sometimes it seemed as though it was too easy to fall into the monotony that life could hold. Wake up, patrol, hunt, train, hunt some more, patrol, share tongues, sleep, repeat. Not that he was criticizing the lifestyle at all; no, Hiddenheart loved his life as a warrior of NightClan, even if he did not go around proclaiming it to the world. However, he also enjoyed spending time alone, away from the bustle and near-constant activity of camp. And so, he came out here, to the quiet of the forest.

Hanging low over the path, branches were sillouhetted against the sky, black against the colorful streaks of pink and orange. Long shadows spread over the forest floor, and Hiddenheart faded in and out of them as he moved down the path, his ebony fur merging with the shadows. He strolled at a leisurely pace, obviously completely comfortable with his surroundings despite the fading light. Even in his solitude, he walked with pride, head held high, though he did not strut. Hiddenheart was always very careful not to strut.

At a bend in the trail, he paused, looking up at one of the trees. Bunching up his legs, the warrior leapt into the tree, paws finding perches with practiced ease. Tail outstretched behind him for balance, he moved out onto the branch and settled down, a leg hanging comfortably over the edge of the branch. Deep amber eyes glowed as they turned to the sky, watching as the rest of the light faded. Content in his tree, Hiddenheart let out a soft breath, his nomally closed off expression looking almost peaceful.

[salt]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 402px; background-color: #121212; border-radius: 30 30 30 30px;] [STYLE=width: 360px; margin: 20 21 0 21px; height: 140px; border-radius: 30 30 0 0px; background-color: #303030; border-left: 2px solid #330000;][STYLE=width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 30 0 0 0px; border: 10px solid #000000; margin: 10 10 10 10px; background-image: url(http://www.webresizer.com/session/bpkOxzzoxrlRjYaYII9DFX15KWRNOzhm/original.jpg?1350502514.51122); float: left;] [/style] [STYLE= width: 215px; float: right; margin: 35px 5px 10px 0px; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 24px; line-height: 90%; text-align: justify; color: #8B8989; text-shadow: #330000 -3px -4px 2px;] The thing I treasure most in life; cannot be taken away[/style][/style][STYLE= width: 344px; margin: 15px 21 0 21px; background-color: #303030; padding: 7 7 6 9px; border-left: 2px solid #330000; font-family: Verdana; color: #8B8989; font-size: 11px; text-align: justify;] Shadowpaw was bored out of her mind. It was a long day of training for her and now she finally was able to rest. Not wanting to be stuck in camp for much longer the black apprentice slipped out of the camp and decided to walk into the woods. Taking her time she heard the leaves crunch under her feet and the chilly wind blow against her fur and face. Hearing a crack of a twig she turned to see it was a vole. This was her chance. Getting low to the ground she started to stalk the prey until a sent ran through her nose. It was a sent of another cat.. nightclan for sure. She wasn't the only one out here? Shadowpaw looked to the side to where the sent was coming from and when she looked back at the prey it was gone. Giving a snort she then decided to follow the sent of this cat. If this was her leader surely her warrior ceremony would be held for moons on end. Deputy? No.. Having a list of cat names going through her head she still went on a nd followed the sent. It led her to the trail and the sent got a little bit more stronger. Walking down the path goosebumps suddenly covered her body. Was it a good idea to be out here alone? Finally she stopped at the bottom of a large tree to where the sent just stopped. Sniffing the ground she raised her head and opened her mouth a bit. Where was this cat... [/style] [STYLE=width: 350px; margin: 15 21 20 21px; background-color: #303030; color: #8B8989; border-radius: 0 0 30 30px; padding: 5 4 10 6px; border-left: 2px solid #330000; text-align: center; height: 25px; overflow: auto;]† Tags † Words † Thoughts † [/style]

Shade † of BTN

[Phoenix]

Suppressing a sigh at the sound of crunching leaves, Hiddenheart tore his gaze away from the sky and refocused it down toward the ground. The darknesses that had settled with the setting of the sun was now broken by the brightness of the rising moon and the tiny pinpricks of light in the sky that were stars. Keen amber eyes seemed to have a glowing quality, making the contrast between them and his ebony pelt, which blended with the shadows, even more obvious. A twig snapped off the side by the crunching of the leaves, and Hiddenheart whipped his head around. He waited, listening to the tell-tale squeak that signaled a surprised piece of prey, usually followed with the distinctive crack of a breaking neck. However, when that did not come his interest grew slightly. Had the hunter given up? Or had the prey heard its death approaching in the crunching dry leaves and fled?

The sound of pawsteps, hitting the ground instead of leaves, attracted his attention again, and as he peered down into the shadows, he thought he could make out the small, moving form of another feline. Obviously a NightClan cat, probably an apprentice at that, but which one? Silent, Hiddenheart waited on his branch, eyes tracking the progress of the other feline. Due to the size of the form, he was now convinced that this was an apprentice. The end of the day did not mean that training had to end, did it? He watched as she - why did he automatically assume it was a she-cat? - followed his scent with no regard to her surroundings, completely fixated on the trail, before stopping at the base of his tree. Amusement flickered through him at the confusion portrayed in her body language, her head swinging from side to side as she looked for him. Hiddenheart would not ruin her search by announcing himself, deciding to remain where he was and wonder if she would glance up. If she was like most cats, who did not make a habit of looking up, then she would miss him, and Hiddenheart had no qualms about not having to entertain an apprentice. If she did look up and see his inky silouhette resting on the branch, then perhaps she was worth a few words.