Lightstone was snapped out of his doze by his lifemate's mindtouch, gentle now. He had asked her to rouse him when the daystar was high, knowing she wouldn't sleep herself
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Moth and Gust had been excited to see the shade the stream and after long cool drinks of the water they had settled down quietly, wearily. Gust had closed his eyes, but his ears twitched occasionally, listening, while Moth, just as tired, sat and watched the tribe with his big gold eyes, wearily and suspiciously as always.
They both made soft sounds of protest as the council call came, and then looked over at Heartstorm as he called for them to pay attention. As if they wouldn't. Gust thought.
Both their eyes settled, waiting to see what was going to be said.
"All right then." Lightstone cracked his knuckles and rested his arms on his knees. "We've had some rest, so it's time to decide what we're going to do now. Should we go back to the plains and keep going in the direction we originally tried, or should we follow this little stream wherever it goes? Or," and here his eyes twinkled with amusement, "should we go back to sleep and think about it later?"
Heartstorm snorted, amused.
Silent blinked slowly and tried to think. The river sounded of peace, of possibility, and now the plains seemed to resonate with tension, of more possible danger. Either way, he could not decide yet.
"Sleep!" Nightglow cried out as she flopped on her stomach, pillowing her head with her arms. "And then follow the stream? It either has to come from somewhere, or go somewhere, right?"
Moss frowned thoughtfully. "This isn't enough for all of us, not for long. But it might get bigger if we follow the water downstream. That was what the little springs at home-" Her voice caught in her throat for a moment. "Back in the mountains, all the water eventually ran down into the larger stream. I'd like to settle near water if we could, and this might be a good way to find a place."
She'd talked more before, that was certain, but this was the first time in a long time that she'd ventured an opinion. The tips of her ears flushed red.
Whistler was far too awake now to sleep again just yet. She sat and thought quietly.
The plains were hot. They were dangerous. Strange and fearsome beasts tried to trample them. There was no real available source of water, or shade. Food could become scarce. The stream was cool and inviting, the water sweet, the shade (what little there was) was welcome. It scared her to think they might leave the water to venture back onto the plains when they didn't know when or where their next drink would come from once the skins were drunk dry.
"The stream," she whispered. Colour flooded her cheeks, and she bent her head, her curls hiding her face.
Moonfall had been leaning against a scrawny tree, chipping idly with his knife at a bit of deadwood, but he spared a friendly nod in support of Whistler. The cub was a good hunter, and the more of those, the better. "I agree with Whistler," he said simply, and went back to his whittling.
The comments made sense. Heartstorm nodded. "The stream," she agreed. "But Nightglow is right as well; we need more rest. We're not used to traveling in daylight."
"The stream it is," Lightstone concluded. "All right then, who will take first watch with me?"
They hadn't had the chance to vote, before it was decided and the twins exchanged glances at each-other. They had wanted to follow the water too of course. Moth sighed.
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They both made soft sounds of protest as the council call came, and then looked over at Heartstorm as he called for them to pay attention. As if they wouldn't. Gust thought.
Both their eyes settled, waiting to see what was going to be said.
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Heartstorm snorted, amused.
Silent blinked slowly and tried to think. The river sounded of peace, of possibility, and now the plains seemed to resonate with tension, of more possible danger. Either way, he could not decide yet.
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She'd talked more before, that was certain, but this was the first time in a long time that she'd ventured an opinion. The tips of her ears flushed red.
Reply
The plains were hot. They were dangerous. Strange and fearsome beasts tried to trample them. There was no real available source of water, or shade. Food could become scarce.
The stream was cool and inviting, the water sweet, the shade (what little there was) was welcome. It scared her to think they might leave the water to venture back onto the plains when they didn't know when or where their next drink would come from once the skins were drunk dry.
"The stream," she whispered. Colour flooded her cheeks, and she bent her head, her curls hiding her face.
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"The stream it is," Lightstone concluded. "All right then, who will take first watch with me?"
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"I will," she said softly.
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"Can we go back to sleep, then?" He asked.
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