Scattered Dawn

[cedarstorm]

Mintfur padded slowly back into the camp, fluffing up his fur in the early morning chill. In his mouth he held two fat fish, each still dripping with water. It was dawn, and dew had formed on the grass that grew in clumps, scattered around the camp. The gray tom breathed deeply, savoring the scents of pure wilderness before his Clan mates woke and covered it. Already a sweet scent trail was coming from the warrior's den and into the medicine cat den. It was Swiftcreek's scent. Mintfur's mother was already up. He wondered what she was doing in Falconwing's den. Mintfur shrugged to himself and padded over to the fresh-kill pile, where a few leftover mice and a small fish still lay. He lay down his catch carefully, and looked up at the fading stars. Silverpelt looked so beautiful at dawn. A pink line stretched across the sky, brighter were the sun was rising. He sighed, amazed by the wonder of it all.