[fancypost bgcolor=gainsboro; border: solid 0pt transparent; width: 265px; overflow: auto; width: 400px; height: 130px;][align=center][font=Engravers MT][size=12]FANTASY IS NOT A CRIME[hr][justify][color=darkslategrey][size=8][font=timesnewroman]
[b]ooc;; sorry for the late attendance! studying for midterms has kept me a bit preoccupied, and smothered my muse, dually.
The transition from a slumbering to an awakened state was transition practically nonexistent, for the ginger-coated Shaman.
Her flanks rose and fell in coordinated symmetry, gently sloping downwards before once more expanding as she drew in a crisp inhale through nostrils that barely twitched. Closed eyelids concealed green-amber gems, dulled with the cloudy veil of contemplation, causing a dreamy expression to paint the canvas of her face. One could imply that she was colliding with her subconscious as she dozed in such a seemingly undisturbed position, but whatever visions engulfed her mentality as she adjourned to the lulling black waves of slumber, they would not be remembered in the morning.
As the soft, dim luminance of the sun thinly filtered into the chamber that kept the feline, her senses were gradually released from the numbing hold of sleep, and the triangular ears that sat atop her skull erratically pricked, as if entreated by an imaginary clan-mate seeking aid. Radars honing almost instantaneously, Sorreldawn hefted her cranium from its rest on her paws, despite it being still relatively heavy with the loitering effects of slumbering. Her round eyes blinked with the slightest hint of drowse, before she craned her neck and squared her shoulders, completing the sequence with a thorough, distributed shake all across her lithe-bodied physique. Taut muscles rippled underneath the thick ginger coating as the feline gathered to her paws, and glanced about the rather spacious residence of the Shamans. Sparrowsun had seemingly woken up before her, which didn't come as a surprise, to Sorreldawn- she was, after all, quite the sound sleeper.
Pushing up on her paws, the feline gained footing underneath her and leapt from her perch, cushioned by one of the pillows pulled from the numerous, abandoned beds littering the quarter's floor. Grabbing the end in her mouth, the cat gently urged it back onto the mattress she had taken it from, and- kicking it a few times to restore the original, plushy state- prepared to make her exit out of the chamber. Upon doing so, she crossed paths with her younger partner, Sparrowsun, and smiled fondly at them as she meowed in brief courtesy, "Good day, Sparrowsun." Resting her tail briefly on the feline's shoulder as she passed, she slipped alongside the flank of the brown-furred youth, pausing crisply after advancing several steps. Casting a glimpse over her shoulder, she called to them, "Would you mind checking the stores? I'll be with you shortly- I just need to get some sort of food in my stomach."
♕ ♕ ♕ ♕ ♕ ♕ ♕ ♕ ♕
Newtpaw's contrasting gaze filtered nonchalantly over the stretch of grounds that created the lounge of the mansion. His alabaster paws skillfully traced circles on the luscious carpet that textured the flooring, and from the obvious lack of effort to his stance, it was a manifest observation that the young tomcat had basically nothing to do with himself. He had woken early, that day, from the persistence of the sun, which seemingly was set on either baking his spine or burning right through his eyelids until he withdrew from his bedside. The dusty grey-and-white tabby sighed heavily, the slightest hint of a groan laced throughout the noise, before pushing up on his paws and into a seated position. His ears twitched inquisitively, as the sounds of conversation drifted from the open doors of the knights' quarters, and his paws ached with the longing to saunter over there and engage with the older cats. He loitered, before shrugging his thoughts aside and sauntering over, peering inquisitively into the chamber as to see what was going on.
As he approached, the apprentice picked up the sound of the warrior- correspondently Deerstep- introducing herself to somebody. Peering in, his mismatching orbs noticed the slim figure of the creamy warrior, along with the stature of Clearcast, and a diminutive, thin bundle of fur, he assumed to be the kitten Heatherkit, he had heard mentioned before.
[hr][align=center][size=9pt][font=Eurostile][color=palevioletred][b]F I N D Y O U R C A S T L E I N T H E S K Y
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[color=black][size=7pt][font=andalemono][c] Florida
