Open The Farm SOUND OF THE DRUMS — thunderstorm

[BUCK]

Rainfall trades the place of snow now that newleaf has arrived — at first it is light, giving the moorlands a light misting. The petrichor draws Buck toward the opening of the barn, his molten gaze lifting upward toward the dark and murky horizon. This weather doesn't bother him in the slightest — in fact, while other cats tended to shelter and hide from a storm, he found himself wanting to be out in the middle of it.

The chocolate tabby tom stands outside now, submissive to the elements. The winds slice against his short fur, which is now slicked down and dripping. The rain has intensified exponentially, crashing down onto the roof of the barn as well as the earthen grounds. Limbs firmly planted against the mud, Buck peers upward and catches a glimpse of a blinding crack that illuminates the sky. Thunder roars gutturally moments after, sending an enthralling tingle down the tom cat's spine. "Wooh! That was a good one!" A shout escapes his maw, directed toward no one in particular, his eyes glued to the skies as he eagerly anticipates another strike.

𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 ✹ . + ˚ · 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐌𝐘 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐒

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  — buck / 28 moons / he/him pronouns
  — loner / barncat
  — sh chocolate tabby w/ orange eyes, bite marks on left foreleg, nick in left ear & scratch on right side of lip
  — click for tags

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[Peafowl]

It wasn't his first storm, but it was the first he would ever remember.
The kit sat at a barn window, watching the sky grow dark with fascinated eyes. The air grew thicker by the moment, he could feel the weight of it in his fur, threatening to flatten it against his back and make a mockery of his excitement. Words of rain passed through the barn, but this was bigger than rain. He knew rain. He knew the soft patters of droplets hitting the sides of the barn and soon enough, his nose and face as well. Individually, they were cold. A shock to the senses for a kit in the comfort of the barn.
Then it suddenly intensified with a crash and his fur stood as tall as his ears. It shook the barn and while some hid, others would inevitably join him in the fascination. Peafowl couldn't contain the rush filling his chest, jumping down to the floor of the barn to bound outside and jump up onto the older tom's back without a hint of hesitation nor fear, letting out a mew of war cry. It didn't take long for his form to become a shapeless mass of fur. He stared up as well as his eyes could handle, basking in the downpour. It was wild, out here in the rain. It was loud and violent and if Buck said a word, he missed it.

you'll find me in the broken folds ∅ i’m never leaving you alone

• "speech" thoughts
  

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• peafowl he/him, barn cat, four moons, 10.13.24
  ∅ long haired blue smoke chimera with bright amber yellow eyes
  comically large, fluffy ears and a long tail with black striped markings
  maine coon genetics
  always smiling. ever optimistic
  ∅ mentored by x
  ∅ open to all bonds
  ∅ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ∅ penned by idola / / tag @.idola appreciated