The silver shades of Wolfkit's pelt buffeted in the cool morning breeze, the fog enveloping his pale yet starkly charcoal-marked tabby form. His dark amber eyes grew wide with panic as his gaze darted around the bleak, white view surrounding him. He'd accidentally wandered out of camp, and now he couldn't see anything. Where am I? This stuff's everywhere. Even worse, the tom-kit was mute and couldn't call for help , though the fact that he needed help was embarrassing in itself. He didn't like depending on others. He felt like I needed to prove that someday he could be as capable of a warrior as any other RiverClanner- though deep down he doubted this was true. Was there really any place in the Clans for a voiceless cat?
if i'm stealing the feeling it's alright | open, kit wandered out of camp
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