The soft pawsteps of Foxsong echoed across the rocky walls that lead a young, ginger tom to the waterfalls. With a certain fiery grace, the water raged down the rocks down to the splashy mist where the stream started. With a certain fascination, Foxsong stared at the falling water, which seemed to split in a cascade of falling droplets, a truly captivating sight according to the young tom. A deep sigh escaped from his mouth as he went to sit down. Small drops of water tinged his fur, but he didn't really mind. His pelt was thick, and fluffy. It couldn't bring that much harm. He was a riverclan cat, wasn't he? Softly, the smallish tom started to hum with the sounds he heard. A soft, but quite endearing sound.