wings like noah's dove — open, sunhaven

[jericho]

Jericho hasn't traveled much since Sunhaven settled — even the furthest reaches of the mountains are unfamiliar to him yet, for most of his attention has been directed at the little sea town on the beach.  He's a leader now, after all, as odd as the word sounds to his ears; there's no time for him to wander the territory picking flowers and herbs as he once did so often.  In his free time he tries his best to become familiar with the terrain, but such times are few and far between.  And all that's beyond is completely alien to him — the people, the land, the groups.  It's why he's here now, for he knows to keep Sunhaven safe and prosperous they cannot live in isolation, and he'd rather get that much sorted sooner rather than later.

It's somewhat of a miracle that the blind tabby has made it this far, considering how small and weak he is.  Jericho often has to take breaks when going long distances, but he's reached the canopy and made rather good time.  At his side is his leather satchel, dragging lightly along the ground (he's too short for it, even when the strap is as short as it'll go) behind his white-tipped paws as they gently move across the forested earth.  The peaks have long since evened out, the terrain here much flatter, but above him the sun remains blotted out by the trees.  He's no longer in Sunhaven territory, yet where this is he does not know.  Though he hobbles forth still, his steps steadily become more hesitant, more cautious the further he strays.  He tastes the air every few paces for foreign scents with jaws that hang just slightly ajar.  He's found nothing yet, but this time when Jericho inhales there's something — someone, maybe?  No, multiple someones. 

The ginger-furred feline halts abruptly, a paw still lifted in the air as if uncertain of whether to proceed.  The blind male's ears swivel behind him with a slight turn of his head, hoping that his clanmates have been following.  Jericho wants to be a leader, but he knows a someone as tiny and feeble as himself could certainly use some backup.  He exhales — he doesn't want to think about that; it makes his stomach turn.  He faces forward, his unseeing amber eyes flickering searchingly as he attempts to pinpoint with scent and hearing where strangers might be.  No one.  Jericho relaxes slightly; he knows this is a border, and he doesn't want to anger any potential groups by intruding, but at least he's left with a moment of silence to gather himself.  Among the trees in peaceful quietness the Helion waits, unsure of what's to come.