The white tom recently had trouble falling to sleep; often, his thoughts were plagued with a very familiar muzzle and those eyes. Like liquid gold, molten and forever heated and burning. He shook himself free of the thoughts – it wasn't the first time he was plagued non-stop by the tom – and continued on his impromptu stroll through the outer ring of camp, attempting to focus on the sensation of the undergrowth bending beneath his paws and the faint sounds of the night creatures scurrying this way and that. It's not as if he even likes me in that way anyway. He halted mid-step and groaned, shaking his head even harder and clenching his teeth. To any bystander, he would've looked positively deranged. But his heart wouldn't stop beating erratically, his mind wouldn't stop conjuring images. Stop, stop, stop!

Halting, breath heavy, at the scent of another cat, he blinked and lifted his head. Was he really so out of it he hadn't noticed before? He could feel a flush rising up from the bottom of his neck at the thought. How could one Dvoryane get me so worked up...

He padded forward, exiting the copse of trees to find his sights greeted with a young tom. He tilted his head and padded forward, focusing his senses on the scent. Ah. "Kovu." He greeted, his surprise evident in his tone. "I didn't expect to see you out here. I would've thought you'd be with your mentor." He blinked. "Is something the matter?"

“Er.” Rune grinned sheepishly. Like I’m gonna confess my heart’s troubles to a kadet. Let alone one so... He blinked at the tom’s crooked smile and expectant gaze. ...Mischievous. “Yep! Just taking a stroll through the territory, it’s lovely at this time of year. Everything’s coming back into bloom, the sweet petrichor drifts on the wind.” He blinked. “What are you doing out here?”