Closed Thread The Last Splash

In death comes peace, united with starry forebears
. · ˚ ✧ · ˚ · ✧ ˚ · .

  This afternoon had been punctuated with a light pattering of rain. Along the edge awaited a hunter perched on a low hanging branch overlooking a shallow spot in the river. Where his trip may have included a catch of minnows and the like, now was washed with the arrival of the rain.

The droplets soaked into the fur of the now deceased cat, its form quiet after a battle that caused Splashpelt to dislodge from the branch and fall into the little pool next to his catch. Floating beside him was a perch, lifeless and foul smelling - this little corner of the river oddly silent...