@
woly
he never knew he could fear for someone so much, until he'd
realised.
the gathering. the patrol had mentioned bloodshed when they came back, and he’d never thought of it like that until moments ago.
lionroar. his love was at that gathering, and although it wouldn’t be that serious if he was there with the rest of windclan; that would be easy. too easy. see, his lover dwelled in thunderclan. what a fool he was, to let his heart swell from his chest every time he saw the handsome ginger tom, to want to be with him, hunt for him, raise his kits. mothcloud was blameless, though: how could he be? he enjoyed feeling for his mate, listening to his heartbeat as they sat there, in that clearing where their territories met. the brown tom lived for the giddy feeling he got when lionroar told him he loved him, purring softly together.
so here he was, seeking the light of his life. he was sure lion knew he’d be looking for him, anyway. dainty paws carried him through windclan’s territory, and beyond; where the moors gave way to the forests. it was a familiar sight, for he came here often. the combined scents of he and his lover assured him of that fact.
hesitantly, he called out, “l-lionroar? are you there?”