wearing our vintage misery [open]

[ravenfur]

no, i think it looked a little better on me.

It. Was. Hot.

Especially when your fur is pitch black in the dead middle of a sweltering summer and you decide, “Hey, I should go hunting in the forest.” To be fair, Ravenfur thought the trees would provide ample shade and relief from the heat. And while the direct sunlight wasn’t a problem, the canopy overhead seemed to just lock in any warmth that hit the ground. He felt like he was in a hot, humid pool designed to break any reserve you may have and jump, flailing, into the river. Which Ravenfur was about three more pawsteps from doing. His Clanmates would probably think him even more weird than they already did, but at least it would be some kind of relief. He hadn’t gone swimming since a mediocre lesson as an apprentice, where his best paddle was a kind of awkward shimmy and paw-flail, but it got the job done. He was the laughing stock of his peers but what can he say – cats weren’t really made for water use.

So he kept on in his hunting endeavor, managing to catch a sparrow and two mice. Each was plump and slightly moist due to the humidity. Finally he decided to head back to camp, where the tall oaks could offer some decent shade without boiling him alive. He met the river at Sunningrocks, near where he preferred to do most of his hunting. He tentatively submerged one paw and sighed in relief. He stepped farther in, dunking all four paws. This was bliss. Thank StarClan for the simple pleasure that is cool water on a hot day. Ravenfur was quite content.