{$title} timber has a run in with a ghost (+the prompt about seeing your own breath)
—————————————————— 'Till I can't run no more ✦
It had been a cold day, and Timber couldn't help but feel on edge. He couldn't quite figure out why—as far as he could tell, there wasn't any discernable reason. All he knew is that there was a buzz under his skin, something crawling up his back, a whisper on the wind he couldn't shake off. The cloud cover ahead was heavy, but Timber had been awake since first light, or maybe even earlier than that. It surely must've been afternoon by now, but he couldn't quite tell with how sluggish the day had been going. He knew he was antsy though, and he needed to get that energy out however he could. So with the nursery checked over and all his duties done for the day, the chocolate tom slipped out of the camp.
Somehow, it felt even colder the minute he stepped out of camp. It's nothing he wasn't used to; there were plenty of cold nights with Stoat in the last few moons, but this cold seemed to almost cling to him. Taking a deep, unsteady breath, the tom pushed on further. He could at least tell it wasn't that cold outside, the small rivulets of water he stepped over flowed easily... but it didn't stop him from shivering. He hated being cold—warm meant safe, as his mother always told him. Keeping his daughter warm was what he always ensured, and it was something he could control and predict a lot easier than hunting going well or anything like that. It was a little ironic, then, that Sablestar chose the name Timberfrost for him, but maybe there was something there that the tom himself didn't see. Maybe he was a colder person than he thought he was.
Timber snapped back to attention as he misplaced his paw, the soft white fur sinking deep into the muck of the pocosin. Wrinkling his nose unhappily, he tugged on his leg and the paw came loose from the offending mud with a resounding Pop! Shaking his head, he peered up curiously to look at where he had found himself—and was quick to notice that he had no clue. His breath had begun to crystalize without him realizing, turning into sparkling clouds that dissipated into the air. It was fine that he was—no, he wasn't lost—that he had just gotten a bit turned around, it was far too easy to track his own steps back to where he came.... which quickly proved harder than he realized, as his trail had become strangely frosted over. "What in the..." Timber muttered uneasily to himself, surely the temperature hadn't dropped that fast?
- @Froststorm :3
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✦—Shadowclan Caregiver
✦—He/Him
✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
✦—A large chocolate tabby with pale gold eyes
#9A775A