Post by muffin on May 12, 2023 16:52:25 GMT -6
Driftfall stepped out from the creek, the late winter sun unusually hot on his back. It looked to be almost sun high, and he understood he must be swift getting back to the traveling cats. Looking around the stream he had recently gone hunting within, Driftfall shortly realized none of it looked familiar. He had been given an account of, more than once, that he was horrible at directions. Being lost was no unique occurrence, but at least those times he wasn’t hunting independently. It must have been quite a long time since he departed their temporary camp. Conceivably someone would be looking for him? The blue-gray tabby could only hope as he tried to sniff out any familiar scents.
