[BlooRey DVD]

[smear:000000]Broken[/smear:ff6633][smear:ff6633]song[/smear:ffffff]

~~~~~~~~~

Her paws hit the ground will quiet thumps as the tortoiseshell tabby sprinted through the TreeClan forest, feeling the wind through her fur. As her eyes darted to and fro, taking in the slowly recovering forest, a small smile danced over the she-cat's lips. Everything was going to be alright. The forest had survived, proved its resiliency in the face of its ultimate enemy. And here it was, pulling itself out from the dark moments, overcoming adversity to show the world that it could. This was TreeClan's territory, just as strong as the cats who called it home.

Slipping between trees as though she were in some sort of slalom course, the beautiful torbie weaved her own path, glad to feel the tiniest hint of grass below her paws now, rather than the constant, horrid texture of the ash. Of course, most of them had gotten used to the ash that surrounded them, although it still occasionally bothered her throat. She might even still have a slight rasp in her voice from the smoke and ash... If she could speak, of course.

Not even her 'disability' seemed to bother her at that moment. She rarely let it bother her, and especially not now. Brokensong had been feeling particularly happy for the past few moons, and it showed in her fluid, bounding movements. There was, of course, one cat in particular to thank for this, a certain tabby tom who happened to be known these days as Zephyrfang. Just the thought of him sent a warmth through her body, and her throat rumbled in a silent purr.

She wasn't sure where he was at that moment, but she suspected he was out doing some task for someone. He was a helpful tom, determined to be accepted by the Clan he'd joined but a few moons ago. She knew that there were still some who didn't trust him, but she didn't care. She trusted him with her life, a million times over. This proved the depth of her feelings towards him, and had she been able to, she would have argued with anyone who dare try to tell her anything other than he should stay.

As the she-cat balanced herself upon a fallen log, padding confidently over its surface, something caught her attention. The softest of scuffling noises was coming from one end of the log, and upon parting her jaws, Brokensong recognized the scent of mouse. Crouching as low as she could, the she-cat crept forward, inching closer and closer, wondering just how close she would be able to get before the mouse noticed.

It turned out that the mouse wouldn't pick up on her until she crested the edge of the log, and peered down upon it. With an alarmed squeak, it bolted into the log. It was then that Brokensong noticed this particular log was hollow. Without a second thought, the she-cat darted in after the creature, keeping herself low. Her shoulders didn't brush the sides of the log, telling her she had enough room to move, but the log wasn't gigantic either. As she scampered inside the hollowed log, she kept her hazel-green eyes pointed towards her target. It ran desperately, trying to get away from her. What she didn't expect was for it to take a sudden veering plunge out of a hole in the side of the log.

The hole pointed upwards slightly, meaning that if she were to follow, she would land as though she had jumped, with her forepaws first. With a slight narrowing of her eyes, Brokensong dove forward, dropping her shoulder and nearly collapsing her chest so that she could get through. Her head broke into the light, causing her to blink at the sudden change in lighting. Her forepaws stretched forward, clear of the log now, and braced for the impact they would face when she touched the ground again. Her movement was stopped without warning, stunning the she-cat for a moment.

She watched as the gray shape of her mouse scuttled away into the undergrowth with a frown. It was then that she tried to move forward, to examine what had happened. The sudden pull on her hind quarters, however, had her glancing back and with a rather startled expression, the she-cat realized that her rump had gotten stuck in the hole.

Unable to collapse the way her shoulders had, her back legs had jammed in the slim opening, leaving the she-cat stretched slightly, front paws touching the ground below, and her hind paws... Just dangling inside the log. She tried to scrabble through, hooking her hind claws into the log, but to no avail. With a slow blink, the she-cat hesitated momentarily. And then she started laughing silently, her sides shivering lightly as a rather bemused expression took hold of her features. It was almost embarrassing, in fact it should have been embarrassing... And yet here she was, laughing.

Oh Brokensong, what have you gotten yourself into this time?

[Deleted]

~~Adderstrike~~

White claws flashed out quickly, ending the life of the small rodent that has escaped the mute she-cat's grasp. Cold blue eyes moved from the dead rodent to the silently laughing Torbie who was completely stuck in a fallen log. Reaching down to grip his prey in his strong jaws, the dark ginger tom started to pad forwards, muscled rippling thickly under his pelt as he approached Brokensong with a slightly annoyed expression on his face. He was supposed that she hasn't scented him earlier. Not that he was stalking her, he just merely came across her scent while he was hunting and followed her until she ran into the log.

With a quick roll of his cold eyes, Adderstrike dropped the mouse infront of Brokesong and folded his haunches underneath him to watch her struggle. He'd help eventually, but he was the type to tease or mock first. He wouldn't do much of that to Brokensong, he found himself quite protective over the beautiful she-cat of Treeclan. Not that he would openly admit that. Not even in his mind. His tail flickered around behind him before it lazily curled around his rather large paws as his claws decided to slowly slink back inside then.

"Stuck?" He asked with a deep, obvious voice. His eyes flashed over her position, wondering how to help her out of this situation without ripping her fur off her haunches. He was a bit surprised that she had gotten stuck. She was normally like a squirrel, able to squeeze through anything without getting stuck like she was. After a moment, Adderstrike opened his mouth to talk again, "I suppose you need some help?" Arrogant Jerk.

[Fawn]

BLACKWOLF

Tom || 40 Moons || Senior Warrior || NightClan

Of all the cats to come across Brokensong at that moment, there literally could not have been a worse trio besides the three toms who had just crossed the NightClan and TreeClan shared border. Mismatched eyes scanned the familiar-looking foliage, jaws open, senses on full alert for any of those sap-sucking leaf-hearts who dared call themselves a Clan, the territory having become somewhat recognizable to him now after so many visits. "Don't wander off - and Hazepaw, stay awake or I swear I will dig a hole and leave you in it." Hissing a threat to the plush tortoiseshell tom bouncing behind Ratfur, he didn't even bother looking to see the slightly alarmed expression that crossed the kitten's face, or the widening of Hazepaw's eyes as though if he opened them big enough it would prevent the inevitable.

Separating from the two after the senior warrior's sharp senses detected a mouse, Blackwolf's powerful dark frame slipped through the undergrowth, still able to smell burnt forest despite being in an area that was relatively healthy if not a little dry. Stalking forward, his posture a perfect imitation of a panther's, dark ears swiveled left and right, his gaze gradually drawn in the direction of a more heavily wooded area. Locating a scent trail, the NightClanner stalked by a tortoiseshell cat sticking out of a tree.

Wait.....

Blackwolf froze. Body rigid with surprise, the obsidian hued warrior turned his head, staring into the hazel-green eyes of a beautiful tortoiseshell she-cat, one who was very much stuck inside of a hollowed out log. Blackwolf blinked, as still as stone as he grasped the reality of the situation.

The next second, a bird squawked in alarm and took off, frightened off by the loud, barking laugh of the NightClan senior warrior - water beginning to collect around the rims of gold and blue eyes.
"Hahahaha! There's a- There's a TreeClan cat - stuck in a - ahaha!" Had he died and gone to the afterlife? You know, that spot in StarClan where they all sat around and poked fun at TreeClan? Or were his ancestors simply smiling down upon him right now, by giving him this blessedly ironic opportunity to witness such an absurdity?

Upon closer inspection, Blackwolf realized it wasn't just any she-cat stuck in a tree - otherwise he would've been warning the rest of the group and beating a hasty retreat across the border - but that mute one. What was her name? Brokenthroat? Brokenbird? Broken...Damaged... Brokensong?

Yeah that was it.

Blackwolf chuckled as he sucked in more air, trying to take in enough oxygen to fight off his laughter-induced shortness of breath, jaws parting in a mocking grin. "Hey Ratfur!" He hissed without taking his eyes off Brokensong, calling into the shrubbery, "Get over here. You really won't believe this."

[Phoenix]

Once the black tom’s head was turned away, green eyes rolled as their owner disregarded the order, which was, in his opinion, completely pointless, if not insulting. But after so many moons with this brute as his lovely companion, he had become accustomed to insulting and learned to swallow whatever emotional turmoil the words may have caused. Though he knew that he was far from the most talented warrior NightClan had to offer – and yet, he had somehow received an apprentice, poor, pathetic excuse for a cat that Oakpaw was – he was not unintelligent. Due to his lack of expertise in almost every area, the wiry tom had made few excursions into the foreign territory. The thought of him tripping over a branch while attempting to catch a mouse and alerting all of TreeClan to their presence – doubtlessly ending up mouse-less, for all his efforts – seemed to have made Ravenstar and Roughthroat agree that keeping him within NightClan territory was their best bet. To be fair, however, most of that assumption was incorrect; though he did not bother correcting it for any attempt he made would be ignored regardless. Even though the probability of a failed hunt on his part was high, he was not one to go stumbling around and tripping over branches. Stealth was one of his strong suits, and even if his clan decided to forget it, Ratfur would not.

Had he not known Blackwolf better, he would have accused the older tom of remembering as well. However, he did know Blackwolf and found it safe to assume that the only reason the other warrior had brought him along was to make himself look better and possibly look after Hazepaw. The odd little tom that he had rescued from the flood had grown into an apprentice and had not lost the habit of falling asleep at the most inopportune times. Ratfur had not forgotten the idea of using him as a projectile. One of these days… He promised as he glowered at the back of Blackwolf’s head, knowing full well that the chances of him keeping that promise were slim.

With the senior warrior out of sight and the apprentice somewhere amongst the undergrowth – Ratfur refused to play babysitter, even if that had most likely been his primary purpose – the thin tom shivered at a cool breeze. It was getting colder, and he disapproved. Strongly. A wiry frame moved through the unfamiliar territory with minimal effort, sticking close to Blackwolf’s trail. Despite his dislike for the other tom, he knew very well that if he was discovered by a TreeClan cat, he would much rather have Blackwolf by his side than be forced to rely on his own measly abilities.

Sharp ears had become attuned to the relative silence of the forest, which was, of course, the only reason he nearly jumped out of his fur when something akin to a cackle shattered the peace. Eyes narrowed in suspicion as he turned his head toward the sound. Surely that wasn’t Blackwolf. Surely the tom would not be so mousebrai— He stopped that thought. It was Blackwolf. Ratfur should know better by now than to assume those kinds of things. Indifferent toward Blackwolf’s humorous discovery, the tom was about to turn away when he heard his name in a coherent sentence.

Great. Well-placed paws carried him toward the other warrior, green eyes locked on the midnight figure until he saw the additional cat. He blinked. Surely not. He blinked again, unable to prevent his jaw from falling slightly open. He looked at Blackwolf for confirmation that the sight in front of him was indeed reality, that he had not completely taken leave of his senses, that a she-cat was currently hanging from a tree. A grin grew across his lips, surprisingly genuine. Addressing the she-cat, who had thus far remained silent, he meowed smoothly, ”Come now, surely you must appreciate the irony of this situation. I thought TreeClan cats were good at climbing trees.” He doubted that even he could manage that feat.

[BlooRey DVD]

[smear:000000]Broken[/smear:ff6633][smear:ff6633]song[/smear:ffffff]

~~~~~~~~~

The tortoiseshell tabby she-cat had been busy trying to twist her body in a manner that would allow her to slip out, but with such limited movement... it was certainly a difficult task. She glanced over her shoulder once more, examining the situation. Her gaze narrowed at the fallen log, before moving to her forepaws which were currently propping her up. As she moved her gaze back in the forward direction, she frowned slightly. She was fully aware of her inability to call for help. This was certainly not good. Surely someone would eventually realize she was gone? And what if they didn't? It wasn't as though she every spoke with anyone.. Her voice wasn't remembered by anyone.

With a firm, silent snort, Brokensong banished that thought away. Zephyrfang will notice I'm not there. She told herself. After all, he slept beside her in the warrior's den. Surely he would know. Satisfied with the thought, the pretty she-cat was about to go back to figuring a way out when an unfamiliar scent caught her attention. It was one she eventually recognized as the reek from NightClan. Why is there NightClan scent in the middle o- Off-green eyes blinked in obvious alarm as she watched a black tom stalk by, glancing towards her for a brief moment. How was she supposed to react to seeing such a thing? First of all, she wouldn't have been able to call to him, even if she wasn't stuck in a tree. Second of all.. She was stuck in a tree! Oh for StarClan's sake... This is just perfect.

And then he stopped in his tracks and stared at her, as though taking in the scene. Brokensong started at the laugh that suddenly ripped from the tom's throat, feeling a stab of pain from the wood as it dug sharply into her skin. Her forepaws scrabbled desperately to regain their footing. She had already been seen stuck in a log. She really didn't need to make herself look even more incompetent by no longer having control over her upper body too.

By some mini-miracle, her paws found traction, and she was left to stare at this NightClan tom once again. Her tail, which was hidden inside the log, flicked irritably, and the fur along her spine began to prick. What is this tom doing on TreeClan's land? It was then that the tom called out to someone else. Her eyes snapped in the direction of a second approaching tom, and for a brief moment, she felt fear. Oh StarClan.. She was doomed. She was sure of it. She was stuck in a log, with two NightClan toms as the only 'saviours' present.

It was as the second tom spoke that her anger flared up. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at them defiantly, keeping her chin up high. Her lips trembled slightly as she flashed her teeth. She didn't care that she couldn't call for help. She would face these two toms by herself if it came to it. For TreeClan.

Just one problem. You're stuck in a log.

Note; I received Ghost's permission to disregard Adder's post for the time being ^_^ <3

[Fawn]

BLACKWOLF

Tom || 40 Moons || Senior Warrior || NightClan

Once the entire visual stopped jabbing his funny bone with a stick, and Blackwolf was able to catch his breath, he regarded Brokensong with an intelligent if not calculating gleam, tail swishing in small, serpentine movements. What if this was a trap? They were using the ridiculousness of this entire predicament to catch any straying NightClan cats putting their paws on soil they knew very well they shouldn't be?

Eyelids narrowing his gaze significantly, Blackwolf took a quiet step back, opening up his senses in case there was an ambush waiting in the treetops - experience having made him cautious, the scars making him loathe to be caught off guard again.

TreeClan wouldn't be so asinine as to actually set a trap this way, would they? It was ridiculous to the point that not even kits could come up with such a half-baked idea. Then again, if I ate squirrels on a day-to-day basis I'd probably be a little nutty too. Despite basic needs being the same in every Clan, Blackwolf once again snorted over just how different his beloved Clan was from TreeClan, StoneClan, RainClan and LightningClan - no wonder they fought every now and again.

It was like trying to share territory with strange, stupid, funny creatures of an entirely different species; their behavior wasn't even feline sometimes, the nerve of them. Deciding to share some juicy information with Ratfur, he didn't bother to lower his voice or disguise the obvious smug, mocking humor of tone;
"Save your breath, Ratfur. She's the mute one, remember?" Beautiful too, for a TreeClan cat.

Blackwolf was now of the entirely biased opinion that even if the she-cat did have a voice by which to express her opinions and emotions on the matter, he was thoroughly convinced she'd be just as squirrel-dung-crazy as the rest of her ridiculous leaf-loving Clan. Posture hinting that he was likely to return to hunting regardless of Brokensong's presence, it wasn't until the appearance of a familiar plush tortoiseshell tom that he had a whole new reason to stick around.

"Whoa!" mewed the kitten, his fur prickling along the base of his tail as he regarded Brokensong with a mixture of intrigue and apprehension. "Is she stuck?"

Blackwolf watched as little Hazepaw struck a sideways glance at both himself and Ratfur, probably confused as to why no one was doing anything about it.
"Should we...should we help her?"

The jet black warrior snorted, tossing back his head in a loud, harsh, singular laugh. "Are you kidding me? Help a TreeClanner so she can go run off and get a patrol? are you mouse-brained?" The kitten visibly flinched at his aggressive tone, body language suggesting he was trying to make himself a little smaller than he already was.

Mismatched eyes rolled once.
Pathetic.

[Phoenix]

Ratfur
so prepare for a chance of a lifetime
be prepared for sensational news
a shining new era is tiptoeing nearer

- - -

Oh, she snarled at him. He was so scared that he was practically trembling in his fur. Lips curled in response, eyes narrowing slightly as he taunted her with the confidence of a feline sure in his opponent's inability to do anything about the current situation. It was not often that the roles were switched as completely as they were, and he planned on fully taking advantage of the fact that he was no longer the underdog in this instance. Perhaps it was low of him, picking a fight with a mute TreeClan cat stuck in a tree, but he was so frequently in the same metaphorical position as the other warrior that he would stoop to that level. Besides, this was TreeClan. Even with his general distaste for his own clan, he much preferred the swamp-dwelling felines - despite a certain black-furred tom's habitual rudeness - to TreeClan and their less-than-formidable reputation. At least clans thought twice before picking a fight with NightClan.

A high pitched voice jolted him from his musings, a green eyes turned to find the sole apprentice on this patrol. In a decent enough mood, he generously gave Hazepaw's intelligence the benefit of the doubt when the first question escaped the apprentice's maw. Of course she was stuck. Otherwise Ratfur would have been long gone; the warrior was fully aware of his lack of fighting abilities and had long since accustomed himself to the knowledge that he would flee in the face of any fight. Even as part of him relished the opportunity to boost his own self esteem by picking on other cats beneath him, a different part placed aside his pride almost entirely. After all, pride meant little to a cat who was dead, killed, ironically, because he did not know when to run away.

The wiry tom knew from experience that it was best to keep his mouth mostly shut when it came to dealing with Blackwolf, and he employed this tactic during the exchange between warrior and apprentice, watching dispassionately as Hazepaw cowered in the face of the larger tom's sharp tongue. How often had he been in that very same position. He appreciated the scene far more from his current point of view, where it was not himself quivering there, but rather, another. The small part of him that could empathize with Hazepaw took pity on the apprentice, and not bothering to answer what he assumed were rhetorical questions, Ratfur quietly suggested, "How long do you think we have before a patrol shows up looking for her?" Someone would notice her missing at some point, but he doubted that they were particularly short on time. It was still bright out, and cats tended to assume that someone was out hunting until darkness started to fall.

- - -

i'll be king undisputed
respected, saluted
and seen for the wonder i am

[BlooRey DVD]

[smear:000000]Broken[/smear:ff6633][smear:ff6633]song[/smear:ffffff]

~~~~~~~~~

Come a little closer, good for nothing fleabags, and I'll give you something to remember me by. She snarled to herself, beautiful hazel-green eyes narrowed as she locked gazes with the black tom. She didn't like the way he was looking at her, and certainly didn't appreciate the way he spoke of her. Her claws bit into the ground below her, while her hind legs found themselves scraping at the log angrily. Unfortunately, the tortoiseshell tabby couldn't get a good enough hold on the log to pull herself free. Her tail was lashing inside the log, brushing against the tight confines of the fallen tree every now and again.

Her green eyed stare flashed to the other warrior, the less impressive looking one, noting the way he was snarling back at her, most likely in response to her earlier lip twitch. Using as much momentum as she could muster, the mute she-cat launched forward, trying to surprise or stun the more pathetic looking warrior. Of course, she didn't get very far, but there was a slight shift as she threw herself forward. The log continued to bite into her fur, forcing her to relax and step back into her original position, to avoid cutting her skin. The tortoiseshell tabby gave a snort, her attention snagged by the appearance of a third, much smaller figure.

Blinking in slight surprise, Brokensong's green eyes focused on Hazepaw as the young apprentice sauntered up, obviously just as surprised to see her stuck in a tree as she was to see him at all. For a moment, her anger fizzled out, dampened by the little tom's concern, or at least what appeared to be concern. You can never be certain when it comes to a NightClan cat. Brokensong wasn't one to think harsh, negative thoughts about others, not unless there was a good reason for her to do so, but had she been able to speak, she would have readily admitted to not caring much for NightClan as a whole.

Her anger was quick to return when the black tom with the mismatched eyes snapped at the poor little apprentice, who seemed barely larger than a kit. Something in her drove a protective urge through her causing her to snarl once more, risking lifting one paw to swipe in the direction of the black tom. She was quick to return her raised paw to the ground, however, feeling her balance beginning to give way beneath her. Panting slightly, the awkward position she was in making it a little harder to breathe than normal, Brokensong's eyes bore an uncharacteristic sharpness as she glared at the black tom. Oh how she wanted to give him a good solid smack on the nose...

When the other warrior spoke up, causing her gaze to venture in his direction one more, Brokensong found her ears laying flat on her head. She could only hope that someone would show up at some point... She hadn't exactly let anyone know that she was leaving camp. Though... She was a warrior. She didn't need to alert anyone to her disappearance every time she chose to leave camp. She just hoped that eventually Zephyrfang would begin to wonder at her lack of presence. She could really use his company in that moment.

[Fawn]

BLACKWOLF

Tom || 40 Moons || Senior Warrior || NightClan

"Why are you assuming she's missing?" Retorted Blackwolf, lowering his haunches to the ground to scratch at his left ear, regarding his skinny, physically weak companion as though he should've thought things through before speaking. "She's a mute cat, it's not like she can tell anyone where she's gone, so how can she possibly be missing?"

Unless she had some kind of caretaker who kept track of her whereabouts?

....no, that was stupid. If such was the case, then Brokensong wouldn't have gotten herself stuck in a tree and gone so long without help.

Before Blackwolf could get too comfortable, however, the little tortoiseshell pipsqueak spoke up, once again making him contemplate why he'd even brought him along in the first place.

"What's mute?"

"What you're gonna be if you don't shut up." He growled, patience blowing away in the wind like so many dandelion seeds. "It means she can't talk! Great StarClan I'm surrounded by mousebrains."

Glaring the smaller tom into the ground, Blackwolf at once rose up onto all four paws and gestured for the small group to scatter. "Get back to hunting - she's not going anywhere any time soon, so everyone just relax." Despite how much he barked, the jet black warrior seemed rather hypocritical, being unwilling to take his own advice - though in all fairness, Blackwolf's irritability had more to do with the company he came with then the company he'd stumbled upon.

The senior-most warrior on this bizarre little escapade, Blackwolf stalked off first, feeling the anger begin to glide off his pelt the further he got from those 'problematic individuals' who went out of their way to agitate him; the two of them were like giant sores that itched and burned if he looked at them, and the best possibly remedy was a little distance and a whole lot of effort spent ignoring them. Unless they were caught by a TreeClan patrol and needed help, Blackwolf intended to fly solo for the time being – at least until he'd done his part to replenish NightClan's prey pile.

~*~

Back next to the arboreal oddity that was Brokensong, Hazepaw eyed her sideways, bright greenish blue gaze visibly interested, and feeling somewhat apologetic now that he knew the truth. So she's unusual, just like me. Hazepaw didn't dare use the term disabled, because it wasn't how he felt; he didn't feel impaired or somehow lacking, he just felt...different.

Surely this she-cat felt the same way?

She really looks uncomfortable...

With Brokensong's precarious and likely thorny situation tugging at his heart strings, the tortoiseshell couldn't help but feel inclined to help her. Even if he came from a Clan where cats like Blackwolf were many and merciless, the small narcoleptic tom refused to adhere to their standards. I'll pretend to leave and then come back when Ratfur's gone. Making up his mind, Hazepaw pretended to slink past Ratfur with the intention of doing exactly as their cantankerous party-leader ordered, and he had to resist the urge to glance back at Brokensong and convey somehow that he was going to come back and help.

But risk Ratfur finding out what he was up to?

No way.

[Phoenix]

Ratfur
so prepare for a chance of a lifetime
be prepared for sensational news
a shining new era is tiptoeing nearer

- - -

Green eyes widened and their owner scrambled away from the she-cat as she launched herself at him, momentarily forgetting that all he had to do was step out of reach and he would be able to avoid her attack. Once he righted himself and realized that most of the danger he had sensed was perceived rather than an actual threat, he averted his gaze, flushing under the weight of embarrassment and what was surely silent laughter from the mute warrior stuck in a tree. He refused to look in Blackwolf's direction, knowing all too well what he would see in the older warrior's critical gaze, and as if the mere thought of the other tom summoned his awareness, the more competent of the two NightClan warriors gave a scathing reply. At least, the wiry tom thought, the attention had shifted away from bullying the lone apprentice in this odd collection of cats.

That was until said apprentice spoke up and decided to make his presence known once more. Even Ratfur could not avoid staring at Hazepaw as he showed the world just how limited his vocabulary was. Where he had previously felt some empathy toward the apprentice for the response to an innocent question, it all disappeared the instant those two words left the other tom's mouth. What's mute? Have you spent your entire life under a rock? What other simple vocabulary words have your parents simply neglected to teach you? Ears flicked at Blackwolf's orders and he turned his green gaze on the larger warrior just in time to see him stalk off into the forest. He glanced briefly back at Hazepaw. You know what a mouse is, right?

Just as it had his old friend, the undergrowth swallowed the lean tom within moments as he padded off, slipping silently deeper into unfamiliar territory. He held little hope for anymore success than he had in his clan's own land, but the consequences of simply not trying outweighed the certainty of what would happen in the wake of his failure.

It was only after multiple attempts that resulted in embarrassing failure that he came face to face with a perfectly good reason why he should not have attempted hunting and instead kept the mute she-cat company, well out of reach of her claws. While scrambling after a mouse that had disappeared into its den, his leg knocked into an otherwise unassuming hornet's nest, jarring the inhabitants and sending them into a frenzy. The angry buzzing in his ear first alerted him to their presence, and that warning was followed soon after by a nasty sting on his nose. Fur bristling, he swatted at what he believed to be a lone wasp, and only after nearly taking his nose off with claws he had forgotten to sheathe did he realize that a whole swarm had targeted him.

Ears flat against his head and tail streaking behind him, he ran. Paws carried him to the area where he had last seen his patrol of three cats. He took no notice of the she-cat whom he assumed was stuck in the tree, and the apprentice was the farthest thing from his mind. "B-Blackwolf!" He called, not having to fake the waver in his voice. It was impossible to stall for long, and soon he was forced into action again, racing off toward familiar land. "I'm going home!"

- - -

i'll be king undisputed
respected, saluted
and seen for the wonder i am

[BlooRey DVD]

[smear:000000]Broken[/smear:ff6633][smear:ff6633]song[/smear:ffffff]

~~~~~~~~~

Hazel eyes watched as the three toms took off, going their own directions. The black tom with the mismatched eyes had seemed the most eager to leave, having stalked away, relaxing slightly with each step that took him further from the two other NightClanners. The second warrior had been less confident, but had disappeared nonetheless into the undergrowth that surrounded TreeClan's territory. It was the apprentice who really intrigued her, however. He looked almost reluctant to leave, his steps less engaged than any of the other two cats. Shrugging the thought away, Brokensong continued to glare at the spot they had vanished to. Oh how she wished she could drive them out to protect TreeClan's prey... But she was still stuck in this StarClan damned log. With a silent sigh, ending in the slight sagging of her shoulders, Brokensong thought back to the events that had just passed by.

A grin lit up her features when she remembered the way the smaller warrior had shrunk away from her when she'd thrown herself forward. For all the discomfort and slight pain that it had caused her to do so, his pathetic reaction had been worth it. It was obvious to the she-cat, who was so used to reading body language, that this tom lacked any sort of self-confidence. If he hadn't been a NightClanner trespassing on her Clan's territory, if he hadn't sat mere tail-lengths away from her taunting her, she might have just found it within her to feel pity towards the tom. Lacking self-confidence to that degree was something sad indeed. As it was, she couldn't muster the pity. All she could find was a silent snort.

Turning her attention away from trying to track the whereabouts of the three cats, the mute TreeClanner decided to attempt once more to free herself. Frowning slightly, she began to step backwards slowly, doing everything she could to hold her balance. As she shuffled back, her hind legs pushed, but she didn't budge. She was stretched out too far, her forelegs unable to grab a solid enough hold to aid in the pushing. Allowing herself to shift forward once more, back to a position that was a little more comfortable, the tortoiseshell tabby's face twisted in annoyance. Sure, it had been funny to begin with, but now that there were three intruders that she could do nothing about, her situation was a severe inconvenience.

Twisting her body slightly, rocking precariously on her forepaws, Brokensong glanced over her shoulders, squinting to examine the bark near her body. With each shift, she noticed that it would bend and buckle slightly, as though it weren't as strong as it had once been. Narrowing her eyes, the TreeClanner parted her jaws, drawing in the scents around her. After pushing past the scent of the NightClan intruders, she picked up on what she had been hoping to find. There! The wood, it's rotting! She thought to herself excitedly. Sense of purpose renewed, the she-cat pushed forwards, feeling the wood as it warped around her. Her hind paws reached for the inside of the log, claws extended, hooking at the bark, trying to pull it away.

The more she tried, the more bark she was able to strip away. However, her position prohibited her from properly reaching it. When she sagged slightly, panting silently as exhaustion from her exertion overtook her, Brokensong could feel the weakness in the bark. If only she could get a solid hit on it, she could bash it in, to make the hole larger. Then she would simply slip through. Unfortunately for the beautiful she-cat, such an endeavour was better suited to a cat who was not trapped in the very same log she was trying to knock in.

[Fawn]

HAZEPAW

6 Moons || NightClan || Tom || Narcoleptic

After a quick check for Ratfur and the much worse Blackwolf, the tortoiseshell tom returned to Brokensong's side in all haste; perhaps he felt a certain kinship for the one whose coat was similar to his, or maybe he was just so much of a nice guy that he couldn't stand to see her struggle like this for much longer. ”My name is Hazepaw,” he mewed, wanting to introduce himself so she wouldn't hiss or swat at him – and even if she did he was already committed to the task of freeing her – ”I'll get you out, okay?” I'm not very strong yet but I'll try.

Completely forgetting about his condition in the face of this unusual scenario, Hazepaw inspected the log, small body the picture of curiosity – and a caution existed about him as well, the apprentice forever conscious of being stuck on a hunting party with two of the most opinionated and bigoted cats in the Clan. Well, at least Blackwolf was, and Hazepaw wouldn't have minded pretending to fall asleep the next time Roughthroat ordered him out on patrol with the black scarred warrior. His company was truly...unpleasant.

Pausing to once again check for signs of the other cats, Hazepaw immediately started to pick and scratch at the wood around the tortoiseshell's waist, glad that she had thick fur so the bark wasn't pinching her too ferociously. ”Sorry about Blackwolf,” came a soft, sympathetic whisper. ”He's a jerk to everycat, not just you.” Though his efforts were sincere, his progress was a little slow but for the most part effective – however short-lived it would be.

The sudden wavering shout of the skinny brown warrior had Hazepaw's heart thrown into somersaults, his whole body lurching back in surprise. Ratfur knows what I'm up to! Panicking, the kitten crouched down, searching around blearily for something he could use as an explanation – before steeling himself up for the senior warrior's likely aggressive, spiteful retort upon receiving the news that a NightClan apprentice had come to the aid of a TreeClan warrior. Oh no. What if he tells Ravenstar and has my ceremony delayed? What if she won't let me be an apprentice? Working himself up into a frenzy, the little tom, fortunately, passed out before he could reach a full blown panic attack, his distress causing his condition to rear it's groggy head and then drop back off to dream land.

Curled up into a loose ball beside the log, Hazepaw slept.

Not even the thundering pound of frantic paws could disturb him, the black warrior with the mismatched eyes fleeing TreeClan's territory without a backward glance – stampeding right past Brokensong and the sleepy bundle of orange and black fur – the sound of angry bees only a few heartbeats behind him. In an almost comical desire to save his own neck, it appeared to occur to Blackwolf that he couldn't leave the drowsy apprentice in TreeClan territory, especially when the little tom was likely to sing about everything if interrogated fiercely enough. Cursing Hazepaw to the stars above and beyond, Blackwolf wheeled around, grabbed him by the scruff, paused only seconds to meet Brokensong's startled expression, and then raced back in the direction of NightClan territory – intending to jump headfirst into the pond if that's what it took to get rid of the angry flying antagonists.

When he got back to NightClan, he was going to kick Ratfur's behind so hard his ancestors would feel it.