the dawning day [open]

[attr="class","coalpost"]
Coalnose greatly enjoyed greenleaf. Its warm temperatures offset the cold of the winds on the moor, turned the cool claws of the breeze from cruel and capricious to gentle and sweet. Thorn-sharp talons became the casual, blunt edge of a claw, run teasingly through the short strands of her pelt. She loved that gentler feeling, loved the little chill that ran along her spine, that danced over her skin. On days where the winds played merrily and enthusiastically in the golden grasses of WindClan's territory, Coalnose loved to sprint across the moors to feel them tug and pull at her, loved to let the winds pull at her paws and alter her course as they saw fit.

She hadn't done it since becoming deputy, though. There was simply too much to be done to have time to play like that. The gray-and-white she-cat missed it at times, particularly in the mornings when the winds blew almost absent-mindedly, brushing over the moor grasses and meandering their way to and from the lake. For the past few days, drab gray clouds had covered the sky, dampening the light of the sun at even sunhigh, and casting a melancholy air over much of the territory. Coalnose was strict in her assignment of border patrols during this time, tail flicking behind her nervously as she reminded the patrol leaders to renew the markers whenever they passed them. Should the rain the clouds were idly threatening fall, she wanted as many markers to survive as possible.

Tensions between the Clans was never good, and despite the number of moons since the last body had been discovered lying on the shore, scavenged, everybody continued to hold some reason or another to eye another Clan suspiciously. It exhausted Coalnose. The way she saw things, everyone had been affected by the tragedies and everyone had more reason to grieve the lost lives and guard their remaining Clanmates more vigilantly than they did reason to focus energy on hating each other. And, yes, maybe that irritable opinion was based in no small part on just how thick with spite the air of Gatherings was and how that taxed her, but it made it no less valid.

Despite that opinion, Coalnose couldn't stop herself from checking the lakeshore along WindClan's territory every once in awhile, even if only to be able to reassure Acornstar that none of their Clanmates had died, that they would not have to hold another vigil for a damp, scavenger-picked body again. Being able to tell him that yet another day had passed without the loss of a Clanmate felt good. Coalnose hadn't caused it, but seeing the quiet relief when cats heard the news was nice. So some days Coalnose rose with the first blush of dawn and padded out to the lake, walking along the shore, olive green eyes alert to the sight of a slumped body.

Waking early was a habit of hers, most mornings. Sleeping amongst so many others occasionally resulted in a mild case of claustrophobia that could quickly be cured by the wide open moors. She simply couldn't feel trapped or pinned in when she could see the lake from just outside the camp, or when she could turn her head either way and catch a glimpse of other territories from anywhere. This was one such morning, and she had awoken to the restless urge to move and be away from the curled-up press of bodies. Her early-morning coordination was not the best, and so Coalnose was fairly certain she'd accidentally kicked or stepped on a few cats on her way out of camp. The sentries and she had exchanged a nod of greeting and a bit of small talk, the pair reporting a quiet shift before she departed.

Thanks to the clouds hanging low overhead, she couldn't tell just how close to truly rising the sun was, only that one side of the sky had become lighter than the other. Birdsong had not yet begun to filter out over the moors, and so all that Coalnose heard as she loped out was the sounds of herself--the soft rustle-thud of her steps, the soft sighs of her breath. She loved it. Quiet and alone, nothing was expected of her, nobody needed her and there was nobody around to train her focus on; all patrols had been assigned the previous evening. Rather than heading for the lakeshore and the possibility of coming across a sodden corpse, Coalnose let her paws carry her to the broken halfbridge.

Once there, she picked her way carefully up onto an intact portion of the halfbridge, and perched cautiously at its edge. She peered down over to look at the water and her reflection. Wide olive eyes in a narrow, long face peered back, mirroring her expression with ears canted at precisely the same angle. Coalnose shook her head and tipped it back to peer at the clouds instead. Seeing herself was strange and disconcerting. She couldn't imagine having to look at herself with any degree of frequency, like RiverClanners must with all their fishing and swimming and general love affair with water. Crazy bunch. Coalnose herself hated water, hated getting wetter than she absolutely needed.

Her gaze rested on the sky, tail flicking back and forth as she watched it, trying to divine the chances of rain. While the clouds did sit low in the sky and present a gray, uneven belly, they were not marbled as stormclouds were, and did not give the air a heavy, moist scent as an impending storm did. But having hung around for this long, they were bound to spill eventually, probably tempted further by the presence of the lake. According to the oldest of the elders, clouds were more common here than in the Clans' previous home. They blamed the lake and, since they had the knowledge to make the call, Coalnose believed them.

A breeze flowed past, dragging playful claws through the deputy's fur and ruffling the surface of the lake. Coalnose turned to look at the ripples on the surface of the lake and the way the different angles of the surface caught and reflected the light. She supposed she did share one thing with RiverClan after all; if it shone brightly, it could easily snag Coalnose's attention, if only for a moment or two.