✯ — got spirits in my head and they won't go

pawsteps made quiet by heavy snow, steam flowing off pelt, shivering in the cold. how he wished for warmth, how he wished for a fire, how he wished to rest his aching and bloody paws. yet he could not, in search of some place safe to rest, to lay his weary bones. resting upon his back was his bag of belongings, shivering at the next blow of wind, body heat melting the snowflakes. goodness, he was chilled to the very marrow of his bones. head weary and drifting off to other matters of concern and worry, he barely noticed the shelter of the tree before him.

halting before he could run nose-first into the tree, the tabby tom pulled his dagger from it's sheath at his side, eyes carting over the red ribbon tied around it's hilt, his heart aching with loneliness. the agony of being the survivor ... i hurt worse than any injury he had ever known. lowering his bag to his side, he looked up the length of the tree with a soft huff before bunching his muscles and leaping up, climbing up to a branch wide enough to support him. the moon shared no light, or love for the weary traveler. claws hooking into bark, he groaned as he stretched out, relaxing for what he could, aware of the creatures far below that had been tracking him from the long grasses. perhaps it would be best for him to let them take him.

✯ — MALE. NIGHT SPADES. MEDIUM DIFFICULTY. REF. BIO. — ✯