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Description
The lazy hum of cicadas invaded the mid-summer air, their drone almost hypnotizing in its simple tone. Hot afternoon sun beat down upon the earth to warm the cracked dirt and brittle stalks of grass, an unwanted concern to the inhabitants of the area. A gentle breeze served to cool the landscape, though it did little good. Water flowed smoothly along its natural course, feeding out into the larger bodies that dotted the land and offered refreshment to those who resided within close proximity. Carried across the open ground to the Stepping Stones the scent of Air-Tribe mingled faintly with the murky hint of Shadow.

Twin eyes of blue-green surveyed the area from atop a flat, sun-warmed rock situated precisely in the centre of a thin stream. Mismatched toes of grey and white dipped lazily over the edge of the smooth surface, where small fish dared venture close enough to nibble. Still, the young feline paid their presence no heed as he inhaled a deep breath of air.

Such a familiar aroma, and yet so foreign . . . the scent of Air was nothing like that of the cats who dwelled in Shadow-Tribe. He was almost jealous – almost. Idek’s eyelids slid shut briefly, as though absorbed in thought, before he once more peered out across the stretch of land that reached out to the border of their neighbour Tribe. With an almost sickening sense of pride, the young tom feigned disinterest in the terrain ahead. He could care less whether or not she met him. No, he was out at the Stepping Stones to hone his skills, test his endurance and meditation.

Or so he would tell any who asked.

Idek’s slate-grey ears swivelled to his right at the sound of yet another cicada taking up the cry of its comrades. Bugs were such ridiculous creatures, their lifecycles were trivial and short; mere fodder for larger beasts such as birds, and in turn, cats. Had his outlook on other creatures always been so bitter? Yes, he supposed it had. Even as a kit, he was not the type to view all forms of life as beautiful.

Still, it was better to be cruel and impossible to wound, than frail and easily harmed. Idek would not, could not, stand to deal with those who could not stand up for themselves . . . that was what made her so special. She wasn’t perfect, but that was what he liked. She had a weakness, yet she did not succumb to it. She had spirit.

Gentle pawsteps on grass alerted the tom to another presence, and his attention shamelessly snapped toward it. Cool hues fell upon a small water vole as it scuttled along the edge of the stream, its tiny eyes regarding the cat only momentarily before it seemed to conclude he was not a threat. Idek supposed that the vole was correct, and in mild disappointment he lowered his maw to droop listlessly over the edge of the rock. What was he even doing, sitting there and waiting loyally for someone who may not even come?

If he was wise – which the young tom liked to think he was – he would turn tail and head back to camp. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t, do that, not when there was still a tiny shred of hope that she, his Firefly, would show up.

In a painful beat, somewhere between asphyxiation and breathing, Idek squeezed his eyes shut ruefully. She didn’t even know how he felt, perhaps never would. Even if he dared confess, there was the chance that she would assume he was joking as he always had. What did he feel for the other feline? What was it that made his body heat up and his pulse rush faster at the sound of her voice?

“Hey, Pretty Boy, been waiting long?”

A surge of electricity fired through Idek’s veins, and he lifted his head slowly. An almost rueful smile traced across his muzzle, unlike the downturned corners of his tattoo. It didn’t matter if she felt the same, not in the meantime. He would be happy just being with her, just having her attention even if only briefly. “Not long at all, Firefly . . .”

Description
The lazy hum of cicadas invaded the mid-summer air, their drone almost hypnotizing in its simple tone. Hot afternoon sun beat down upon the earth to warm the cracked dirt and brittle stalks of grass, an unwanted concern to the inhabitants of the area. A gentle breeze served to cool the landscape, though it did little good. Water flowed smoothly along its natural course, feeding out into the larger bodies that dotted the land and offered refreshment to those who resided within close proximity. Carried across the open ground to the Stepping Stones the scent of Air-Tribe mingled faintly with the murky hint of Shadow.

Twin eyes of blue-green surveyed the area from atop a flat, sun-warmed rock situated precisely in the centre of a thin stream. Mismatched toes of grey and white dipped lazily over the edge of the smooth surface, where small fish dared venture close enough to nibble. Still, the young feline paid their presence no heed as he inhaled a deep breath of air.

Such a familiar aroma, and yet so foreign . . . the scent of Air was nothing like that of the cats who dwelled in Shadow-Tribe. He was almost jealous – almost. Idek’s eyelids slid shut briefly, as though absorbed in thought, before he once more peered out across the stretch of land that reached out to the border of their neighbour Tribe. With an almost sickening sense of pride, the young tom feigned disinterest in the terrain ahead. He could care less whether or not she met him. No, he was out at the Stepping Stones to hone his skills, test his endurance and meditation.

Or so he would tell any who asked.

Idek’s slate-grey ears swivelled to his right at the sound of yet another cicada taking up the cry of its comrades. Bugs were such ridiculous creatures, their lifecycles were trivial and short; mere fodder for larger beasts such as birds, and in turn, cats. Had his outlook on other creatures always been so bitter? Yes, he supposed it had. Even as a kit, he was not the type to view all forms of life as beautiful.

Still, it was better to be cruel and impossible to wound, than frail and easily harmed. Idek would not, could not, stand to deal with those who could not stand up for themselves . . . that was what made her so special. She wasn’t perfect, but that was what he liked. She had a weakness, yet she did not succumb to it. She had spirit.

Gentle pawsteps on grass alerted the tom to another presence, and his attention shamelessly snapped toward it. Cool hues fell upon a small water vole as it scuttled along the edge of the stream, its tiny eyes regarding the cat only momentarily before it seemed to conclude he was not a threat. Idek supposed that the vole was correct, and in mild disappointment he lowered his maw to droop listlessly over the edge of the rock. What was he even doing, sitting there and waiting loyally for someone who may not even come?

If he was wise – which the young tom liked to think he was – he would turn tail and head back to camp. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t, do that, not when there was still a tiny shred of hope that she, his Firefly, would show up.

In a painful beat, somewhere between asphyxiation and breathing, Idek squeezed his eyes shut ruefully. She didn’t even know how he felt, perhaps never would. Even if he dared confess, there was the chance that she would assume he was joking as he always had. What did he feel for the other feline? What was it that made his body heat up and his pulse rush faster at the sound of her voice?

“Hey, Pretty Boy, been waiting long?”

A surge of electricity fired through Idek’s veins, and he lifted his head slowly. An almost rueful smile traced across his muzzle, unlike the downturned corners of his tattoo. It didn’t matter if she felt the same, not in the meantime. He would be happy just being with her, just having her attention even if only briefly. “Not long at all, Firefly . . .”