[Phoenix]

[atrb=border,0,true][CS=2] Ratfur of NightClan ill be king undisputed. respected. saluted.

[style=height: 300px;] [style=height: 75px; background-color: #000000; width: 100px; padding: 2px; border: 2px outset #254117;]words: 374 notes: -- credits: [style=font-size: 8px;]Cat from here Be Prepared - Lion King

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Day in and day out. It was all rather tiring, if anyone asked him. But no one asked him, of course, because no one knew. And that was the important part. Even if that meant he had to suffer through little shows of sympathy directed at him, the thinly veiled distaste hidden behind the pity. They thought him lower than they were, just because he could not hunt or fight very well. They thought that he was a weak thing, never going to accomplish anything in this life. It was sickening. It meant that his ploy was working. He both loved and hated it.


Ducking his head, Ratfur entered the warrior's den, briefly glancing around to see it empty. He had not expected any different, of course, as normal cats took this time to share tongues and tell stories of the day. Honestly, he saw no appeal to this gossiping about others, and though he usually stuck around to try and listen in on the rumor mill, the tom had little patience for it tonight. He was tired and his patience was dangling by a thread. There had been a particularly embarassing hunting attempt involving a frog and some mud that his whole patrol had seen. All he wanted to do was go to sleep and wait for this day to end. Only in sleep could he find his refuge and completely relax.


From his nest, which was in a prime spot close to the center of the den due to his position as Blackwolf's little minion, green eyes found the entrance of the den. Though the temptation of sleep was very strong, he did not want to be found that vulnerable by a clanmate. Preferably not ever, but definitely when he was alone. Ratfur quieted his breathing as he settled down, curled up in his nest. In calm, long strokes, he began to lick off the remaining mud off of his chest fur, listening to the silence. Or was it? Alert ears flicked as they caught the sound of approaching footsteps. The dark tom briefly paused in his grooming, watching the entrance out of the corner of his eyes while acting as though he was oblivious to the newcomer's arrival.

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[Fawn]

[atrb=border,0,true] Blackwolf 28 moons, Warrior, NightClan

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Cat: Here // Table by Phoenix

A light drizzle had begun on the edges of NightClan's territory, and Blackwolf, who'd been patrolling the area with a pawful of Clanmates, had finally returned - scattering tiny crystal droplets as he shook the excess water out of his gleaming black pelt. His thicker fur was showing signs of coming in early, the fur along his neck fuller, almost like a ruff. If the temperature drops any lower, I'm gonna freeze off my--
Blackwolf's train of thought was immediately forgotten as he spotted the youngest of his posse, the brown-haired Ratfur, accompanied by what smelled like marsh mud. Blackwolf let out a hiss, backing out of the warrior's den. "What the Dark Forest did you roll in?" The warrior's nose crinkled, his whiskers twitching with disgust. Apparently he had yet to hear of Ratfur's incident involving a frog while out on a hunting trip earlier.

Speaking of hunting, that was the whole purpose of him being here. On the lookout for Dogfur, Hawkbone and now Ratfur, Blackwolf wanted to 'get the band back together' for a couple hours of hunting together.

The Clan was obviously going to need it, and Blackwolf was no slouch when it came to the needs of NightClan. If it needed three drops of blood for some special ceremony, he would've been the first in line to contribute, but fortunately there was no such requirement in NightClan. You know, despite the rumors.

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[Phoenix]

[atrb=border,0,true][CS=2] Ratfur of NightClan ill be king undisputed. respected. saluted.

[style=height: 300px;] [style=height: 75px; background-color: #000000; width: 100px; padding: 2px; border: 2px outset #254117;]words: 293 notes: -- credits: [style=font-size: 8px;]Cat from here Be Prepared - Lion King

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The stride was familiar, Ratfur realized a little too late, recognizing the very distinct walk of the older warrior and hoping against hope that he was wrong. But he never was, and this instance did not break his streak. Sure enough, a disgusted voice, painfully familiar and horribly unwelcome, rang out through the den, accompanied by a hiss. Burying his distaste, the young tom looked up, jumping as if startled, eyes alarmed and tail twitching nervously.


"Sorry, Blackwolf," He meowed hastily, injecting a very apologetic tone into his voice. "I didn't mean--- I thought I would be alone in here, and I didn't want to annoy anyone." Ratfur climbed to his paws, internally mourning the loss of his comfortable position and the warmth of his nest. More mud flaked off of his dark brown fur and into the nest. Really, the weakness and insecurity in his voice disgusted him. How degrading it was to act far below his level in intelligence and cunning. And how mousebrained of Blackwolf and the others to expect nothing else from him, to look no further beyond outward appearance.


"I was hunting a frog earlier," Ratfur explained, trying to justify himself. "And I slipped and fell into a mud puddle. You know what I'm like hunting..." The warrior looked down and kicked at the ground with a paw. "Do I really smell that bad?" He asked, his voice almost a whine. It was disgusting. However, the tom was genuinely curious though not nearly as sorry as he sounded. He wondered if he had adjusted that quickly to the stench of swamp mud, if his nose had already compensated for the smell and learned to ignore it.

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[Fawn]

[atrb=border,0,true] Blackwolf 28 moons, Warrior, NightClan

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Cat: Here // Table by Phoenix

The brown warrior's apparent inability to grow a spine or develop decent hunting skills personally repulsed Blackwolf. He wasn't entirely sure what had made him want a cat like Ratfur in the gang - the other two, Dogfang and Hawkbone, contributed their intelligence and their likeminded, strong-willed personalities to go along with his... As for Ratfur, he was just a mouse in cat's clothing. Still, Blackwolf wasn't the kind of cat who readily changed things at the drop of a hat, and therefore had no intention of kicking Ratfur out of the group, not when they'd already been through so much together.
But he could at least stop mewling like a kit, "Did you at least catch the frog?" Blackwolf mewed, tone cynical - but judging by the weak warrior's expression, Blackwolf just left that to die, flicking his tail towards the opening of the Warriors' Den.
"You reek, Ratfur. C'mon, the rain will wash it off - we need to hunt for the Clan before it gets any cooler." The weather was far from ideal for Ratfur, what with his thin fur and scrawny appearance, but Blackwolf didn't care. NightClan needn't concern itself with the worries and wants of one of it's weakest members, and even if there was some risk of possibly getting a chill, Blackwolf would make sure the both of them kept moving so they stayed warm.

The coal-black warrior glanced around the rest of NightClan's camp, hoping to snatch someone else up for this little hunting party of his, knowing Ratfur would obey him without question - not that he had much of a choice. Mismatched eyes narrowing, Blackwolf was recently aware of a pawful of warriors coming back from a patrol, weary and pawsore, the NightClan deputy among them. Blackwolf would've invited him personally out for a hunting trip, but that would've made things boring.
An apprentice or someone else he could boss around, however, would surely suffice.

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[Phoenix]

[atrb=border,0,true][CS=2] Ratfur of NightClan ill be king undisputed. respected. saluted.

[style=height: 300px;] [style=height: 75px; background-color: #000000; width: 100px; padding: 2px; border: 2px outset #254117;]words: 353 notes: -- credits: [style=font-size: 8px;]Cat from here Be Prepared - Lion King

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He detested it! He hated it with every fiber of his being! He wanted to leap out, prove to Blackwolf and every other cat in this horrid place that he did not warrant the disgust and the sympathy they constantly gave him. He was better than that. he had some value. But they would not listen. It was infuriating, constantly being overlooked.


And besides, he could break the charade now. The disgust meant that it was working. Perfectly, in fact. But still, did his hunting skills, or lack thereof, really warrant that much distaste? He could practically feel it oozing off of the older feline's words. Ratfur did not even bother opening his mouth to answer - not that Blackwolf gave him a chance to. They both knew the answer to that question, as pitiful as it was. A pained expression flickered across the tom's face; he really did wish that he could say his hunting level was part of the charade.


As though willing to redeem himself, Ratfur dodged past Blackwolf as he headed out past the entrance of the den. He did not question the intelligence of the ebony tom dragging him along on a hunting patrol of all things, though the younger warrior scoffed at his elder in his head. Had they not just covered the fate of that frog? Truthfully, he was not overlly willing to leave the sheltered safety of the den and camp. It was cold. Leaf-bare was coming. He had thin fur and weak lungs. The young tom and the now-constant chill in the air did not get along well. Ratfur shook out his fur as he stood there, beside Blackwolf appearing for all the world a loyal and mindless follower.


"We should maybe probably get a third cat, Blackwolf...?" His suggestion seemed to be more of a question than advice, but little Ratfur could not be seen as a very confident cat. He lived and breathed for praise, after all. "Do you see anyone that would like to join us?"

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[Fawn]

[atrb=border,0,true] Blackwolf 28 moons, Warrior, NightClan

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Cat: Here // Table by Phoenix

A swift glance around the Clan camp told him that no one was going to join them - everyone seemed busy, save for the elders and the kits, a small group of which was determined to leave camp to go splash in some nearby puddles. Blackwolf let out a throaty chuckle. Take care of yourselves, Harekit, Shadekit. I'll bring you both a big juicy raven later. It was always the tom's own personal goal to catch one of the harder prey in NightClan's territory, crows, rooks, ravens, etc being his usual targets. Though he wasn't likely to find one now that the sun was setting, Blackwolf would still try - if he wasn't busy making up for whatever Ratfur didn't catch. It might as well have been a solo mission, for how useful his brown-furred friend was, but that was at the back of Blackwolf's mind right now.

"Come on, we'll go to the Black Woods first, then if we can't get anything there, we'll hit the Branch Trail," Willing the strength back into his limbs, Blackwolf headed for the exit to camp, breathing in the fresh scent of pine-needles, the cooler air freezing the insides of his sensitive nostrils, his lips curling just as he let out a rough scoff through his nose.
No matter what, he wasn't coming back home empty-pawed.

"Keep up, Ratfur!" mewed Blackwolf once his paws had hit the grass outside NightClan's camp, and when the other warrior was close beside him, he let out a teasing laugh, "Look a little more enthused, why don't you? You'd think I'm asking you to run away and go live like a kittypet!" Sneering at the very word, Blackwolf rolled his broad shoulders, reveling in the chance to hunt for his Clan and thus prove his strength to anyone who might be doubting it. "Besides," he added, padding on ahead, "The she-cats tend to warm up to warriors who don't mind a little bad weather!"

Though only StarClan knows what kind of she-cat would fall for a weakling like Ratfur, but that wasn't Blackwolf's problem. Ratfur was...yeah he was a bit of a failure, as far as warriors go, but he was loyal, and someone - against all odds - was going to fall for Ratfur and his loyalty. Er, maybe. Possibly. Eh he was probably getting way ahead of himself. Ratfur hadn't even gotten his own apprentice yet.
Suddenly, Blackwolf felt as though he'd swallowed the coldest, heaviest, roughest stone, and it had just settled in his stomach like an icy talon. What if Shadekit ended up being Ratfur's first apprentice?

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[Phoenix]

[atrb=border,0,true][CS=2] Ratfur of NightClan ill be king undisputed. respected. saluted.

[style=height: 300px;] [style=height: 75px; background-color: #000000; width: 100px; padding: 2px; border: 2px outset #254117;]words: 357 notes: -- credits: [style=font-size: 8px;]Cat from here Be Prepared - Lion King

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Great. Did Blackwolf want him to completely fail? The Black Woods was not exactly crawling with prey. There were plenty of delicate herbs that he could crush while scrambling after a stray mouse, thus inflicting Smokefur's ire upon himself. First the frog - reminded of the mud still clinging to his fur, Ratfur shook out his pelt again - and now this. All he wanted to do was go to sleep and forget everything. Another cold wind blew through the fur, chilling Ratfur to the bone. On second thought, he would probably be warmer with that extra layer of mud, regardless of the stench. The least he could do was keep moving. That thought spurred the warrior into action, and he hastened to catch up to Blackwolf, who had started off without him.


Tail flicking, the tom moved up to walk at Blackwolf's shoulder, just in time to catch the words directed at him in a sort of joking manner. Unconsciously, Ratfur's lips curled into a sneer like his older tom's, mimicking the expression and the disdain. "That would be horrible," He felt the need to point out. "I don't think I'd be able to live very long as a kittypet. I'm too used to..." He paused, searching for a word, "Well, you know, being a warrior out here. Surviving through it. It's the good life, you know?" Ratfur barely hesitated before adding, "But you. I can't picture you living the soft life as a kittypet, Blackwolf. You're a warrior through and through."


A small, foolishly hopeful grin plastered itself onto his face at the words of advice about the she-cats. "I'll keep that in mind," He meowed brightly, sounding completely in awe. Honestly, Ratfur did not care; she-cats were meaningless to him, as they played no role in his greater plan. But he had to sound interested. "I bet you know a lot about she-cats and what they like," The tom added, sounding slightly put out.

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[Fawn]

[atrb=border,0,true] Blackwolf 28 moons, Warrior, NightClan

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Cat: Here // Table by Phoenix

For a few horrific moments, Blackwolf pictured Ratfur becoming the mentor of Shadekit or Harekit; hunting failures, battle failures - poor instruction and poor execution of techniques that were likely to get them killed - teaching them the way of the lackey, not the way of the warrior. Blackwolf suppressed a shudder. The day he saw Harekit or Shadekit being overly submissive like his brown-furred friend here, was the day Blackwolf grew wings and flew around the whole forest.
The compliments spilling out of Ratfur's mouth broke the horrible events brought on by his imagination, and Blackwolf snapped out of it, snorting under his breath at more of Ratfur's gushing. Mention of his knowledge about she-cats, however, made him bare his teeth in a wolfish grin.
"They're not that hard to understand - even you could probably find a mate with a little effort." Blackwolf cast a critical eye onto his friend as they stepped further towards the Black Woods, approaching the edge of it - the smell of ash already wafting towards the pair. Whenever Ratfur tried to exert 'effort', things usually resulted in... failure. "Treat 'em well, compliment 'em, do the occasional favor for them and you'll be just fine; Got your eye on any back at camp?"

Blackwolf proposed this question not because he was interested in helping his friend find a mate - he just wanted to know how 'improbable' his choice was. Someone popular? Someone pretty? Someone already taken? Blackwolf had at last matured enough to mostly stop teasing Ratfur on occasion, but if it was really something good, well, he might not be able to resist.

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[Phoenix]

[atrb=border,0,true][CS=2] Ratfur of NightClan ill be king undisputed. respected. saluted.

[style=height: 300px;] [style=height: 75px; background-color: #000000; width: 100px; padding: 2px; border: 2px outset #254117;]words: 380 notes: [style=height: 10px; overflow: auto;]NightClan is mostly toms xD problematic when asking Ratfur who he likes

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Cat from here
Be Prepared - Lion King

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Even I could understand, Ratfur thought bitterly, tail flicking as he turned his gaze away from Blackwolf, glancing out into the surrounding forest. A feline as lowly and pathetic as me could find a mate. Probably. He did not dare meet the older cat's gaze, not when his thoughts were as mutinous as this. It took all his control to maintain his slightly put out expression. One would think that insults would no longer have an effect on him, what with the constant insults the others gave him over the many moons of his life, some veiled and some outright. But that was not the case. He grew tired of them, angry at the felines who handed them out, and somehow managed to control both his feelings and actions and store them away to fuel his vengence and hatred. The other Ratfur didn't do that, of course, but he was bright enough to know when he was insulted, especially if it was as obvious as this one.


Soothing his irritation to a level reasonable of the other Ratfur, the tom glanced back at Blackwolf. He turned his ire into more of a hopeful expression, though he did not completely hide the hurt that the comment had 'caused' him. "You really think that I could find a mate?" Inject some happiness into the tone, make it sound as though he had just heard the greatest news of his life. Find a mate. Disgusting. Focus completely on Blackwolf's words, as if it was the last piece of prey in the forest and he was a starving cat. "Really?" Sound slightly skeptical, but not too much. "That's all it takes to win over a she-cat?"


Glance away quickly at his next question. Ratfur hid his disgust at this conversation, burying the emotion deep and out of the way. His mind raced. How to answer it? He did not care about any of the cats back at camp. "Well... no," He answered hesitantly, talking to his paws. It was an obvious lie, meant to lure Blackwolf in and give him more time to think up a response. "Not really..."

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[Fawn]

[atrb=border,0,true] Blackwolf 28 moons, Warrior, NightClan

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Cat: Here // Table by Phoenix

Blackwolf's ears flicked back to catch Ratfur's words, snorting as he heard the reluctance, the stalling in the brown warrior's voice when he brought up the subject of affection towards any of the NightClan she-cats.
He's a little weird though. I wouldn't be surprised if he had his eye on someone in a different Clan. Blackwolf, with this thought in mind, suddenly stopped in his tracks, mismatched eyes narrowing as a cool wind blew over them, ruffling the fur along his spine, ears folding back.
"It's not someone from another Clan, right Ratfur? This Clan has no room for traitors." The last line was added as a none-too-subtle warning; even if Ratfur was his friend, Blackwolf couldn't stand disloyalty of any kind, even if it was something as simple as Ratfur lusting after an enemy-Clan she-cat.

Though he probably wouldn't have blamed him, particularly if that she-cat happened to be beautiful, but he sure as heck wasn't going to encourage it in the slightest. It was best to kill those feelings before they got any bigger.

Watching Ratfur out of the corners of his eyes, Blackwolf suddenly looked around, his mouth open as he scented what was possibly a grackle or bird of some kind - downwind of the foolish soon-to-be-fresh-kill. Signalling with his tail for Ratfur to keep quiet, Blackwolf dropped into a hunting crouch, his powerful muscles rippling beneath his dark pelt, Blackwolf moving forward like a shadow, the bird now in view.
It was certainly no raven, but it would do just fine.

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[Phoenix]

[atrb=border,0,true][CS=2] Ratfur of NightClan ill be king undisputed. respected. saluted.

[style=height: 300px;] [style=height: 75px; background-color: #000000; width: 100px; padding: 2px; border: 2px outset #254117;]words: 416 notes: --- credits: [style=font-size: 8px;]Cat from here Be Prepared - Lion King

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The somewhat relaxed, not exactly jovial atmosphere that had fallen with Blackwolf's subtle teasing disappeared in an instant following Ratfur's reluctant words. Frowning slightly, the brown tom wished that it would come back. He found his companion's teasing much more easy to bear than his hostility. Green eyes glanced nervously at the other tom, only to see narrowed mutli-colored eyes latched onto his form, the threatening expression complete with laid back ears. Ratfur did not have to force the shudder that travelled through him at the sight. Especially with his size backing him up, Blackwolf was an intimidating tom when angry.


"No!" The tom squeaked, hastening to reassure the other and get that expression off his face. "No! Of course not, Blackwolf!" His tail flicked. Add some hurt to the tone, turn it into more of a whine. "D-do you really think that I would betray everyone and NightClan like that?" Angular features rearranged themselves into an expression of worry, and eyes shone with hurt. How could Blackwolf even consider such a thing? Behind the mask, Ratfur's mind raced at even greater speeds. He had understood the second meaning behind Blackwolf's threat, even if the older tom himself had not. Or had he? No, of course not. There was no way he could have known; Ratfur's act was nearly flawless, and he had been wearing the skin so long that it felt completely natural. In any case, the answer he received would give the tom his answer. Ratfur had known Blackwolf long enough to know that lying and acting was not his forte, not like the slippery friend he did not know he had.


In any case, the other tom was soon distracted by something, and though he could barely catch anything if it stood in front of him croaking loudly, Ratfur did know enough to recognize a hunting stance when he saw one. And when to shut his mouth. He didn't been Blackwolf to tell him that. The tom, however, barely recognized the scent that drifted toward them on the breeze. Curious, he inched forward slightly, wanting to see the prey. He did not notice the dry twig just in front of him. Had Ratfur been standing on wetter soil, the twig might have just sunk into the ground; instead, it cracked under his weight, sending a loud noise echoing through the silence that had fallen. Ratfur cringed.

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[Fawn]

[atrb=border,0,true] Blackwolf 28 moons, Warrior, NightClan

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Cat: Here // Table by Phoenix

Blackwolf blocked out the sound of Ratfur's startled pleading, ignoring him try to insist that a she-cat of a different Clan had never caught his eye, that he would never be disloyal to NightClan. All Blackwolf cared about at that moment was killing the grackle. Stalking closer, closer, he felt his heartbeat start to pound in his ears, saliva pooling in his mouth as he thought of the warm, savory meat he was about to sink his teeth into - the grackle nothing more than an evening snack with feathers on it, even though he knew he wasn't hunting for himself.
Steady...Steady...NOW!
-Crack!-
Blackwolf's shoulder-blades shook with momentary fury, but he was too busy leaping after the grackle that had been startled into the air. Claws unsheathed, Blackwolf made a massive attempt to reach it, his claws sinking deep into the bird's body - one paw catching onto the grackle's wings as he landed. Ripping his claws out after he delivered a killing bite, the bird's wing had gone with it, Blackwolf's angered haste making him careless. Leaving the wing behind, Blackwolf covered the grackle to collect later, before turning on Ratfur.
"Mousebrain!" He snapped, voice a low hiss to avoid frightening any more prey away. Blackwolf gave Ratfur a sudden cuff around the ears - though his action was a lot gentler than he would've done to anyone else, considering Ratfur was still a friend, it was enough to almost make the warrior's chin touch the ground for a split second. Blackwolf let out a low growl, fur bristled.
"Step on another twig, and I swear on StarClan I'll gnaw your paws off."

If Ratfur had just been hunting for himself and had stepped on a twig, Blackwolf would've just rolled his eyes and laughed, but Ratfur had disturbed his hunting, and had nearly made him lose his prey had he not leaped in time, but the stupid bird's squawking had chased away anything in this area.
"C'mon," he rumbled, a bit more calm than a few moments ago, "that dumb bird made too much noise, let's head to the Branch Trail." Blackwolf eyed the warrior as he passed, trying to get rid of his agitation. It was hard to hunt when he was angry.

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[Phoenix]

[atrb=border,0,true][CS=2] Ratfur of NightClan ill be king undisputed. respected. saluted.

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You mousebrain! He thought viciously. You foolish, clumsy lump of skin and bone! But perhaps the snap had not been as loud as he had thought? That hope, so small to begin with, was completely dashed when Blackwolf's prey, a bird it turned out, flew for the sky. Awe cracked the wall of solid dread, which had formed when his paw had landed on the twig, at the way the older warrior leapt up with claws slashing. In a flurry of blood and feathers, punctuated by the cries of the bird, Blackwolf landed and killed it. Ratfur's eyes were wide and locked on the bird's mutilated figure.


Which was why he did not notice the large ebony paw flying toward him until it connected with his head. The blow hurt and the force behind it threw Ratfur's skinny head closer to the ground than he would like. His own small paws flew forward to brace himself, but he did not rise from the position on the ground. The frail looking tom practically cowered in the face of Blackwolf's ire, letting the other tom's threat run over him. A shiver rattled his body, and he wasn't sure he could blame the wind. "Yes, Blackwolf," He whimpered, not having to work to inject the undertone of fear in his voice. "I'm sorry." All the while his gaze had not left the bird, which was now covered.


More orders were barked out over his head in a sharp tone, and Ratfur pushed himself to a standing position as Blackwolf passed. Berated for his actions, the tom followed a little ways behind his companion in silence, appearing officially cowed. Though it bored him to death, green eyes stared out at the path in front of him, scanning for any twigs and dodging whatever ones were in his way. The other Ratfur would do anything he could to earn Blackwolf's favor again, and that included avoiding any twigs, regardless of how unrealistic the threat had been.

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[Fawn]

[atrb=border,0,true] Blackwolf 28 moons, Warrior, NightClan

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Cat: Here // Table by Phoenix

I outta beat the fur off that cat's mentor. Blackwolf seethed inwardly. Whoever had taught Ratfur how to be a warrior clearly had no idea what they were doing - or maybe it had been a pointless task from the get-go? Ratfur was about as decent a warrior as a squirrel was - but at least the squirrel understood the concept of stealth! Spitting his disgust into the grass, Blackwolf trudged on, realizing a second too late that where they were headed was quite possibly the worst place to bring Ratfur.
And why is it called the Branch Trail? Blackwolf suppressed a groan. Because there are branches everywhere. Ratfur wouldn't be able to go two rabbit-hops without stepping on something.

"Never mind about the Branch Trail, we're going to Wooded Marsh instead." At least the ground would be wet, and any branches Ratfur stepped on would likely be damp/soggy as well, so they would either sink or bend beneath his paws as a result. His reasons for avoiding the place earlier was so that he woudln't get the smell of marsh-mud on his pelt, and Ratfur already reeked over it.
Fox Dung! He cursed. Guess there was no avoiding it now.

Already he could smell the heavily wooded marsh, and as such the black warrior padded on, his mismatched eyes glittering, just daring something to move so that he might catch it and kill it in the blink of his bi-color eyes. As he scented the damp hunting grounds, a peculiar thought flickered across the edges of Blackwolf's mind. He really didn't want to hunt in the marsh. He really really didn't.
...So what if they hunted just on the other side of the marsh? On RainClan's side of it? Though the ground would be wetter, it would smell less repugnant, and it wasn't like RainClan hunted for much of anything besides fish.
Blackwolf almost consulted Ratfur about it, but changed his mind. Ratfur would probably agree to anything he said, no matter how dangerous or seemingly foolish.

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[Phoenix]

[atrb=border,0,true][CS=2] Ratfur of NightClan ill be king undisputed. respected. saluted.

[style=height: 300px;] [style=height: 75px; background-color: #000000; width: 100px; padding: 2px; border: 2px outset #254117;]words: 458 notes: --- credits: [style=font-size: 8px;]Cat from here Be Prepared - Lion King

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Beside him, Blackwolf was still seething, going so far as to spit on the ground next to him. As if it was poison, the skinny tom shied away from the action, keeping low to the ground as he slunk to the other side of the tom. Muscles moved in a rough imitation of the hunting crouch he had never been able to master, tail twitching like a snake behind him. He could almost feel the waves of anger rolling off of his companion and crashing in around him; the atmosphere was suffocating and uncomfortable to say the least. The unfairness of the situation sparked Ratfur's own irritation. He hadn't intended to snap that twig, and Blackwolf knew very well what a dismal hunter he was. Why would the older tom think it wise to have him, Ratfur, of all cats accompany him on a hunting patrol? Putting some space between him and the warrior, Ratfur worked on tucking that emotion back out of the forefront of his mind. It would be of no use to him now. However, as the evening carried on and his nest looked all the more appealing, the skinny warrior could feel his self-control slowly dwindling. That task was harder than he had thought it would be, and he became so caught up in trying to accomplish it that he almost ran into Blackwolf when he stopped abruptly.


Almost. Ratfur managed to stop himself just in time, more out of reflex than a conscious action, pulling up just short of Blackwolf. A change of location? Interesting. But Ratfur did not give it much thought, as he was becoming indifferent to the various hunting locations. Regardless of where he tried to catch prey, his attempts were almost always unsuccessful, and those few successes were usually embarrassaing. Blackwolf could lead him around all he wanted, at this point; Ratfur just had to follow like a loyal, unthinking minion. His job was simple, for now. The fun would really begin when he started acting on his plans on climbing to the top.


Speaking of his act, Ratfur was probably getting close to an oddly long silence. His character, for lack of a better word, occasionally initiated the conversation, and seeming to be in deep thought was fairly unrealistic for him anyway. Thinking quickly, the feline questioned, "Hey, Blackwolf, how'd you catch that bird?" A brief hesitation followed that statement, before he hurried on, as if trying to clarify his question before the older tom lost his patience again. "I mean, how do you do it? Know when to pounce? Know when to wait? All of it, really. Just, how?"

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and seen for the wonder i am.

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