@EtheHorse
Swiftstrike tried not to flush in embarrassment. "Oh, yes. Of course! Lichen, your Clan leader." He quickly turned to go, before he paused and turned back to Meadowsweet. "Where is he?" This time he couldn't hold back the blush. But before she could answer, Meadowsweet lost consciousness. Marcel, who had finished working, glanced up at the Guardian.
"She'll be okay. I suggest you send your Lesser Wisp out again - strong sense of direction, that one," the Tundra said, directing Swiftstrike's attention in a quiet, steady voice.
Swiftstrike's tail lashed, and he narrowed his eyes. He wasn't sure he liked Marcel speaking to him in such a manner. But now was not the time to bicker; instead, he turned to his familiar, who bobbed in the air by his side. "She mentioned Clan Oakmere. Can you find that?" The Wisp flickered once, its airy body glowing brighter. Swiftstrike nodded, and reached out to grab a tuft of fur that had fallen lose in the battle. He passed it to his familiar. "Here - bring this with you so that the leader - Lichen - knows who is calling for him."
Swiftstrike knew that his Wisp would be there and back faster than he could - although the Guardian was one of the most skilled fliers in the Clan, but his Wisp was certainly the fastest.
Oshkana flew through the forest faster than he could be seen - merely a green blur that left the leaves shaking in his wake. He followed the Mirror hatchling's scent, and fear flashed through him as he picked up more centaur scent. It was stronger than the scents back in the clearing, more fresh. If it came to battle, the Scout would be in trouble; he was not a warrior, and he worked better with his teammates.
"Dear Gladekeeper, please let me avoid any fights!" The words were whipped from his mouth, lost to the wind.
He was flying so fast, he almost missed the ferny glade no bigger than a coatl. In fact, Oshkana flew right over the two creatures before he noticed the scent fading. The Spiral twisted in mid-air and peered through the shadows before noticing them: A small teal Mirror held down by a centaur colt. Fury pulsed through Oshkana; generally he was a playful, amiable dragon but after witnessing the carnage back in the clearing, thoughts of peace were far from mind.
"BeastClan filth!" he hissed and dove down towards the colt, readying his claws. "Let the hatchling go!" His prior prayers to avoid a fight was forgotten, and he was ready to protect the hatchling from anything.
He had no clue that the colt and the hatchling were lost, with only each other for support, and no way of knowing that a fight was not the answer, not here, not after what had already transpired.
Quote:
Swiftstrike tried not to flush in embarrassment. "Oh, yes. Of course! Lichen, your Clan leader." He quickly turned to go, before he paused and turned back to Meadowsweet. "Where is he?" This time he couldn't hold back the blush. But before she could answer, Meadowsweet lost consciousness. Marcel, who had finished working, glanced up at the Guardian.
"She'll be okay. I suggest you send your Lesser Wisp out again - strong sense of direction, that one," the Tundra said, directing Swiftstrike's attention in a quiet, steady voice.
Swiftstrike's tail lashed, and he narrowed his eyes. He wasn't sure he liked Marcel speaking to him in such a manner. But now was not the time to bicker; instead, he turned to his familiar, who bobbed in the air by his side. "She mentioned Clan Oakmere. Can you find that?" The Wisp flickered once, its airy body glowing brighter. Swiftstrike nodded, and reached out to grab a tuft of fur that had fallen lose in the battle. He passed it to his familiar. "Here - bring this with you so that the leader - Lichen - knows who is calling for him."
Swiftstrike knew that his Wisp would be there and back faster than he could - although the Guardian was one of the most skilled fliers in the Clan, but his Wisp was certainly the fastest.
Oshkana flew through the forest faster than he could be seen - merely a green blur that left the leaves shaking in his wake. He followed the Mirror hatchling's scent, and fear flashed through him as he picked up more centaur scent. It was stronger than the scents back in the clearing, more fresh. If it came to battle, the Scout would be in trouble; he was not a warrior, and he worked better with his teammates.
"Dear Gladekeeper, please let me avoid any fights!" The words were whipped from his mouth, lost to the wind.
He was flying so fast, he almost missed the ferny glade no bigger than a coatl. In fact, Oshkana flew right over the two creatures before he noticed the scent fading. The Spiral twisted in mid-air and peered through the shadows before noticing them: A small teal Mirror held down by a centaur colt. Fury pulsed through Oshkana; generally he was a playful, amiable dragon but after witnessing the carnage back in the clearing, thoughts of peace were far from mind.
"BeastClan filth!" he hissed and dove down towards the colt, readying his claws. "Let the hatchling go!" His prior prayers to avoid a fight was forgotten, and he was ready to protect the hatchling from anything.
He had no clue that the colt and the hatchling were lost, with only each other for support, and no way of knowing that a fight was not the answer, not here, not after what had already transpired.
