t w o. s t e p s. a w a y.

[t h e h a u n t]

i ' v e c o m e t o f i n d m y h e a r t...
isn't right with my soul

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He stuck out like a sore paw. The apprentice wasn't even going to attempt to deny that fact. His nearly total white pelt against the black contrast of the bark was shameful to any hunter. However, Fallpaw wasn't hunting so it didn't bother him too much.

On the contrary, he was on "enemy" soil (if that's what you wanted to call spineless rogues). He wouldn't deny the thrill the whole idea gave him. He wondered if he would bump into a ignoble exile, actually. The idea seemed charming.

Then he physically paused as he had in his thoughts. Why charming? Fallpaw had tried to throw as much hate and disdain towards rogues as he could. Loner were alright. Not every cat was able to uphold the life of caring for more than just yourself. But rogues were lesser. They were crowfood, fox-dung.

Yet, why now was he enchanted by the thought of meeting one?

An interesting ally. The thought hit him instantly. Well, yes, indeed. To have a scoundrel as a friend would be quite handy. Handy for what? Dirty work? The apprentice continued to walk finally, as he sourly thought to himself, what dirty work?

The old apprentice swore to himself, the one place he should feel safe he didn't. His mind was a maelstrom constantly. As thought of contradiction and dark intentions swirled inside him.

The tom's orange ear flicked in response to a distant noise. Maybe a bird? Maybe a rodent? Or perhaps something more... exciting. After a brief hesitation, he looked over his shoulder. Nothing he could see.

StarClan curse his paranoia.

--
two different loves

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w i t h a s i m i l a r g l o w[/center]

lyrics;; i once was lost...
by from first to last
word count;; 259