( sunset ) :open:

[sandtail.]

The night was seeping slowly across the sky over the AshClan camp. Sandtail sat quietly on one of the smallest rocks in the gathering place of the camp, his head almost completely vertical as he stared up at the darkening sky. The muscles in his slim neck were beginning to cramp -- he had been sitting stagnant for at least ten minutes. It was long enough for him to clear his mind of any terrors gathered by the light of the day -- the combination of beauty, pain, and a seemingly insignificant existence was perfect for outcasting unhappy ordeals. In addition, he had always felt more comfortable without any sort of carefully contemplated actions at this time of day. The junction between day and night was short, but left his ears pricked and eyes clever in a way that could never occur during a more unchanging period of time. The sunrise and sunset were transient; however, they were beautiful in a way that the adamant qualities of the day and night were not.

The sunset began its descent into night in a lovely arc unmatched by absolutely nothing. Sandtail's eyes widened desperately, greedily taking in the scene as his neck stretched out to accommodate their desires of viewing the sky unobstructed. The warrior wanted to experience what could perhaps be referred to as peace for as long as he could. Of course, his peace was accompanied by a permanently throbbing heart, but it didn't bother him much. There was nothing else to hinder his current reality, one consumed entirely by the sunset; in comparison to a state of mind marked by several other discrepancies, he was having an extremely pleasurable experience.

Now, what he was truly waiting for -- the orange. The tree in the camp's clearing, generally so frail and haggard, was gallant in this type of lighting. Though the leaves were absent from the season, the sunset highlighted every gnarled twirl of the branches. It looked so huge, so majestic, so free of all bounds -- like it could get up and walk away by sheer willpower alone. That's how noble the tree looked. Sandtail wondered briefly whether his normally dull appearance was the same way. His eyes flashed with hope.

Quickly, the lightening retracted back into the now invisible sun and washed the sky grey. With both that and his previous thought, his mood also fell. He looked down at his paws slowly, lowering the tail he hadn't known was standing straight up and trying to ease the tension in his formerly excited muscles. He failed as his mind was filled with thoughts focused on how stupid he was to think he would ever seem like the tree. His muscles refused to relax.

word count: 478.
muse: medium / low. First posts are always hard. c;
ooc: please join c:

[sam]

Adderbite had yet to fully understand the young warrior known as Sandtail. As he sat, perched atop the farthest sunning rock, his golden green eyes gleamed with the last remaining rays of the setting sun as he watched the tom stretch out his neck, rather weasel-like. As the rays danced across his face, Adderbite closed his eyes. He could feel the feeble rays die away as he took the last of their heat, and as he felt the glare lift from his eyes- he opened them. It was dark now, the sky a simple grey, and Adderbite sat motionless as the warmed rock began to give way to the cold of the night.

Lifting himself, his back arched in a way only a feline's could as the regal tom stretched his muscles loose. Ears back, he pushed through the chilly air, making his way to the other side of camp. He stopped as he approached the fickle tom, and nodded his head in greeting. Sandtail fascinated him, in that he seemed to occupy two seperate worlds. The world that the rest of the clan shared with him, and the world that seemed only visible to the awkward little tom. He reminded Adderbite of 'that one cat'. The cat that would be forever remembered for snapping into insanity and murdering his clanmates in their sleep.

Though Adderbite was not mistrusting or frightened of his fellow warrior, he rarely felt it necessary to aggravate the nerves of a tom that needed no assistance in the matter. Instead, Adderbite merely reclined beside the other tom, following his wistful gaze to the gnarled tree that sat above the fresh-kill pile. He contemplated whether or not to ask what was so intriguing about the naked branches of such a miserable little tree- but decided not to touch on the subject.

"Why so tense?"

[sandtail.]

Sandtail gave a start, his head snapping down with haste as he stared straight down at his paws. He noticed his claws pumping in and out as he kneaded the ground in fright and vaguely heard his stiff neck crack from the overuse of his joints. The tom lifted his head up warily to locate the source of the noise, not recognizing it. He had always been rather detached from his clanmates, swimming in a different ocean than the rest of them. He never really thought of those other than what he was currently interested in, and after the obsession faded, he no longer gave them any thought either. Sandtail just didn't care.

But right now, he did care. Although he tried to make himself not care, the very willpower he needed so dearly was barely enough to get him to take food that he didn't catch from the fresh-kill pile. He was permanently wary and ashamed of himself, suffering at times from a dramatically low self esteem. He was currently at a definite low, irritable from the hasty nature of sunsets and his embarrassing ponderings about his appearance. His light yellow-green eyes finally caught the one he felt was subtly attacking him -- a large, reddish-brown tom. He broke the gaze immediately, looking back down at his paws again as his claws ripped the loose soil from its ground and uprooted grass that was grey and dead from the harsh leaf-bare. Sandtail knew that he was supposed to recall his name, or at least do something to acknowledge his status, which was likely very high. He could almost feel the impact of excessive amounts of adrenaline being pumped into his body, like bleeding into vomit; tearing the unmoving chunks apart and sending them down a fast-moving stream of florid liquid, chaotic in their journey...

Sandtail blinked, clearing his mind. He needed to focus on what was said, determine how he would react -- flee or fight? The decision loomed on the horizon, but first he would need to interpret what was said...not that it would make a difference, considering he was feeling himself become angry. His heart was thudding erratically against his ribcage as he lifted his lips back to expose yellowed fangs.

"I'm not tense," he said after a moment of silence, his eyes widening but voice low with a hiss of forewarning. His body language was giving out mixed signals, a testament to his inner turmoil at such a small comment. Nevertheless, he stood his ground.

word count: 462.
muse: very, very average for a first response to a stimulus.
ooc: it wasn't supposed to make much sense. |D