
BEETLE, 26 moons / WINDCLAN MOOR-RUNNER
A lanky, awkward black tom with white markings and forest green eyes.
Mate to Glade.
. . . a friendly yet cautious type, loyal almost to a fault, though not without his flaws - a selfish undertone and low impulse control.
Tagging @Glade
It is the evening of this so-called meeting that Dusty - Dustystar - held. Around this makeshift camp, cats are still licking their wounds, reuniting with their loved ones, and grieving the ones that did not make it. The air is thick with sorrow, something that Beetle is cursed to pick up on strongly. It manifests in him through prickled fur, shifty eyes and a wary demeaner. It's all he can do to stick by Glade's side, practically glued to her fur, as he observes the sad and confusing scene.
"I miss the barn,"
he complains lightly, shivering as a breeze rolls through - just to accentuate his sentiment. Beetle shifts his weight and wraps his tail around the rosetted molly, resting his chin on the dip between her shoulder-blades. Glade is the only constant in his life, he realizes sadly, now that he's been pushed from the only stability he's ever known. "I miss.. when things made sense.."