" we have our heading " — open rp

Goldenbelladonna stepped towards her on silent feet, finding refuge next to the quiet calico away from the murmurs and restless anxiety that seemed to be a constant companion to the group of cats. It was easing now that the Wraiths had not been seen recently. But many of these cats had become haggard and jaded in their journey, or those that had come from the original lands. It almost felt criminal to think that some of this group had never been in the clans original lands, had never known the clans many of these cats used to call home. 

He himself barley remembered a time before the journey, rather young when his older brother pushed him to follow the others and find a new place for himself. To leave his phantoms and ghosts behind and hope he traveled far enough that they never found him again. Glancing sideways blue eyes looked towards Agatemurmur grooming herself and unconsciously a crooked grin crossed his features, a bitter little thing to herald his first words. "Do you think we are close to something we can call home?" It felt like a joke even saying it out loud, to even think of a home that didn't have his older brother alongside him.

If it had been any other day, Agatemurmur might have been irritated by the close proximity of the cats around her. However, she was too tired to care, and deep down the company was kind of appreciated.

“Agreed,” she meowed, her voice slightly raspy from lack of use as of late. “If Starclan’s intervention means anything, I would hope this is the right place for us.” The tortie added between paws.

"No reason you can't go check yourself while the rest of us take a break and report back. You have legs." The golden tom was quick to retort. His patience was thin to begin with, traveling, and dealing with the collection of eclectic personalities had it almost nonexistent these days. "No reason to drag the whole group over the ridge, cut the break short, and wrangle everyone to start moving again because you, sense, something."

He cut his own eyes to meet hers, looking her over and internally remarking experiences can be deceiving. He would have never assumed she was the sort to spout nonsense about sensing things.

Her snowy paws kneaded the ground, fur flecked with mud and claws torn. She knew they were right, but didn't want to admit it. With a slight frown, Coastcurl turned her gaze back to the ridge, her whiskers twitching as she sniffed the air blowing toward them. "Just a small break?" she asked, tipping her head to the side slightly as she kept her stormy eyes ahead.

Dismissing the others he turned his baby blues away once more, a headwind cutting through his fur and drawing his gaze towards the ridge the she-cat had mentioned. It smelt of salt and evergreens, and his nose twitched the the scents. He had never been near an ocean and as such did not know enough to know that's what the winds carried in whispers to tell them, to hint towards those undiscovered crashing waves. Instead he picked up on the undercurrent of cold and frost and grimaced, 'winter is on her way'. It was becoming more and more apparent they would either need to settle or sort out some form of shelter for the coming season.