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Post by Fawn on Aug 12, 2016 19:12:24 GMT -5
 22 Moons. Tom.--With no solace to be found during sunhigh, Mudpelt found himself waking up earlier and earlier to compensate for the long quarters of the day where he was unable to provide for his Clan. He knew better than to bemoan his pelt color; it was what it was, and adapting to limitations was just what any warrior should do.
After the siege of the Sunstones, Mudpelt had been rather distant with the cats who had participated (his cousin included), just until he could rationalize Firestar's actions with what he understood of the code. In truth, LightningClan had not attacked anyone during the Gathering, and yet... lying in wait, in an almost underhanded fashion... Mudpelt found it to be in poor taste.
He was secretly relieved he had not been assigned to any of the patrols.
Hunting for rabbits and birds on the moorland, that suited him much better.
Mudpelt crouched in the dry undergrowth, aware of how desperately the valley was needing moisture; it was a challenge to hunt when the vegetation would crackle and rustle under each step. Having found a shady patch of shrubbery, the sun-burned leaves providing just enough cover, Mudpelt hunkered down to wait, watchful somber yellow eyes glowed like shards of sunlight from the underbrush.
As his eyes adjusted to the morning light, a brownish-gray pelt hooked his attention like thorns. It was a young rabbit searching for food in the sedge, nibbling what leaves hadn't been damaged by the heat. Mudpelt rose silently into a hunting crouch, waiting for the rabbit to move just a little closer.
Now.
The dark brown warrior lunged, kicking off with powerful hind legs to chase the rabbit down. His normal technique was to land on its back, claws outstretched, but the heat made him want to shorten the chase as much as possible. Mudpelt instead slammed into the rabbit, knocking it off balance where it quickly tried to scramble away, but his claws snagged its back left leg, and he immediately dispatched it before it could utter its death scream.
Panting, Mudpelt sat down to catch his breath, ears rotating as the sounds of insects and distant birdsong from the direction of TreeClan drifted on the warming Greenleaf breeze. Today was better than yesterday, but not by much.
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Word Count: 385 Words
Tags: @zen
Notes: This world will break your heart
Nobody's falling in love |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 12, 2016 20:20:47 GMT -5
I pick all my skirts to be a little too sexy,
just like all my thoughts, they always get a bit naughty~
Larkfeather had much the same idea as Mudpelt. Although early rising was not her favorite past time, it was far better than going out on patrol in the middle of the day when the heat was at its peak. She had sat up slowly, with a yawn parting her muzzle, and set to work grooming her long, beautiful fur so as to be presentable for the day. She had vaguely registered the mud brown tom leaving the den but, still half asleep, hadn't thought too much of him at the time. At last she had finished her grooming, rising with a luxurious stretch and padding from the warriors' den. A few other cats were rousing, obviously all thinking the same thing. Get the work done now, before the heat got worse, and let those too lazy to wake deal with the heat later.
With another yawn, Larkfeather trotted out of camp. Without realizing it at first, she ended up following a Clanmate's scent trail. She paused as it occurred to her, paying more attention to the scent until she recognized it as Mudpelt. Her whiskers twitched thoughtfully as she continued to follow his trail. After a while, the scent of rabbit mixed with the tom's scent and she began to step more carefully, not wanting to scare off the prey he was surely hunting. As both scents grew stronger, she slowly dropped into a crouch, her steps lighter and more carefully placed. When she saw him at last, he had already caught the rabbit. Well that was fine, the rabbit wasn't her prey anyway.
With a bound and a leap, she was bursting from the grass toward Mudpelt with her paws outstretched to grab onto him. As her paws wrapped around him, her claws carefully sheathed, she took them both over into the grass with her momentum before letting go again. She giggled innocently, “Oops! I'm sorry Mudpelt, I guess I confused you with the rabbit!” She lay on her side and reached her paws over to him, playfully brushing his fur, before a brief look of concern crossed over her face, “I didn't hurt you, did I?”
Mudpelt wasn't really a tom that Larkfeather had ever been interested in. He always seemed so... depressing. And he wasn't really what she would call handsome... not in the traditional sense of the word. He was distinctive, however, with his dark brown fur and bright eyes. There wasn't a single cat in LightningClan that looked anything like him, colorwise. He and his brother Gustclaw shared the same build, both of them stocky and muscular, bespeaking of strength, and that was actually sort of attractive. But his coloring was what was interesting to Larkfeather. She had never imagined she would find mud brown to be interesting, but on a solidly built tom like Mudpelt it somehow was.
When I'm out with my girls I always play a bit bitchy.
Can't change the way I am: sexy, naughty, bitchy me~
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Post by Fawn on Aug 12, 2016 23:37:41 GMT -5
22 Moons. Tom.-- whumph!
Mudpelt tumbled tail over ears, grunting with surprise as somecat abruptly bowled him over like he'd almost done to that rabbit. The scent of wildflowers hit his nose the same time his shoulder struck the grass, and he recognized her even before his brain realized it. Sitting up, Mudpelt found himself staring into the pretty pale green eyes of Larkfeather, her paw smoothing down the fur that had inevitably been pushed out of place by her pounce.
"Oh—Larkfeather—no I'm fine. Did you hurt I?"
Must've hit my head on the way down. Embarrassed, Mudpelt quickly licked the dried pieces of grass out of his chest fur, correcting his ridiculous miswording. "Sorry, I meant, did I hurt YOU?" He most certainly didn't want to do that. Not only would her crowd of male admirers claw the whiskers off his face, but he was a kind soul, despite living in an unkind world. He'd never want to hurt a Clanmate, especially not by accident.
She was giggling at him though, and Mudpelt found that he wasn't too mad about her mistaking him for a rabbit. The logical part of his brain wondered if the heat was getting to her (there were no mud brown hares, after all), but the illogical part of his brain was just happy she wasn't making fun of his nervous speech habit.
It reminded him of a similarly ridiculous situation, where he'd been at the Gathering for the first time and he'd bumped into a beautiful white she-cat with the prettiest pink eyes he'd ever seen...
Mudpelt's chest tightened, feeling a raw ache in his throat. He'd introduced himself as Pawmud, then. It almost made him smile ruefully, but he was concentrating on steadying his breathing, on reminding his lungs that seizing up right now wasn't productive to anything. It definitely wasn't going to bring Pinkcloud back.
"Do you, er, need help with anything?" What a silly question to ask someone! She was a perfectly capable warrior in her own right, but Mudpelt couldn't help it; he was as susceptible to her as the other young warriors were. He wanted to help her. Larkfeather had the sweetest giggle; his days didn't seem so dark, when he heard such a pretty sound.
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Word Count: 374 Words
Tags: @zen
Notes: This world will break your heart
Nobody's falling in love |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 14, 2016 9:51:51 GMT -5
I pick all my skirts to be a little too sexy,
just like all my thoughts, they always get a bit naughty~
Rolling to her belly, Larkfeather raised her head to observe him a bit better as he assured her he was fine. Of course he was. She hadn't asked because she didn't know, only so she could show her concern, like any kind, decent Clanmate would. Really, if a warrior couldn't take a simple tumble without getting hurt they probably shouldn't be a warrior at all. She blinked in brief confusion as he attempted to ask her if she was hurt, but it came out a bit jumbled. Then she giggled again as he corrected himself. So he was the type that got tongue tied around her? They were always nice for a good laugh, so long as she disguised it as an innocent giggle anyway.
For the briefest moment, she wondered whether to feign some sort of minor injury from their tumble together, but she had always heard how Mudpelt was a stickler for rules, and she was certain she couldn't get him to hunt for her and then pretend like she had done it herself when they went back to camp later and she was miraculously better. Besides, if she feigned being hurt, he was probably one of those that would insist on taking her to the medicine cat and she had no desire to spend any time there today, or any other day for that matter.
Rookfrost intrigued her too much. She had made a rule to stay away from toms that intrigued her lest she be drawn into some sort of relationship with them. Not that she even thought Rookfrost was interested in such things, and for more reason than because he was a medicine cat. It was probably part of what intrigued her so much. There was an air of something hidden about him, something dangerous. She liked to chalk it up to those bright silvery eyes that stood out like twin moons against his night dark pelt. It was just his appearance, she was sure. After all, he was a medicine cat. They weren't exactly known for being exceptionally dangerous.
Her ears flicked as she realized she had let a slightly socially unacceptable silence draw out between his question and her answer and shook her head, “Oh! Sorry, no... no I'm perfectly fine.” Better to see if she could get his help in catching something. After all, teaming up and having one cat flush out a rabbit toward another waiting warrior was a technique used all the time, and cut the effort of hunting of them down to nearly nothing, and the less energy and effort Larkfeather had to expend, the better. She pushed to her paws as he asked just that, if there was anything he could help her with. She purred and brushed past him, her tail trailing briefly over his pelt, carelessly.
“I suppose we could help each other,” she mewed as she turned to look at him with bright eyes, “It's always easier catching rabbits in pairs, after all. That way we can catch more and get back to camp faster before it gets too hot out.” She stood beside the rabbit he had already caught and tilted her head, “You wouldn't mind hunting with me, would you? I'm sure I won't mistake you for a rabbit again.” She giggled softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
When I'm out with my girls I always play a bit bitchy.
Can't change the way I am: sexy, naughty, bitchy me~
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Post by Fawn on Aug 16, 2016 11:09:32 GMT -5
22 Moons. Tom.-- Larkfeather spoke well. Much better than he did, at any rate. Her words flowed together like the rain on a hot day, and Mudpelt found himself nodding even before he'd fully comprehended what she was asking. After the delay in understanding had resolved, Mudpelt quickly rose to all four paws, risking something that could've been considered a very serious sort of smile. "That's a great idea, Larkfeather. I'll... try not to look like a rabbit again."
Though would it be terrible if she caught him again? Yes. That's not helpful to feeding your Clanmates. The stern voice of reason brought him back to center, and the stocky chocolate tom quickly shed any lingering enchantment the she-cat had cast over him. They were warriors. SHE was a warrior, and what did warriors do? They hunted.
Not about to let himself get distracted again, Mudpelt signaled with a flick of his tail for her to lie in wait near the heather. He would flush a rabbit or two towards her. Given his heavier frame, Mudpelt hardly looked like a tom well suited to rabbit-chasing, but enough moons at this and even he had managed to overcome his physical blocks, even if the end result was a rather graceless (but efficient) sprint.
He could not run fast, but he could run a while, which would help in the end.
Mudpelt traveled far, still within her sights, in search of any rabbits or hare that had not heard their earlier conversation. He doubted they understood cat-speech, but they could smell danger when it was having a discussion a few fox-lengths away. The dark tom slowed, bright eyes narrowing; there was a rabbit, a young one nearby.
He flicked back one ear to let Larkfeather know he had found one, and then, edging his way around to the front, Mudpelt burst through the sedge, flushing the startled prey right towards her. It was a noisy maneuver, but the dryness of their territory was something that couldn't be helped.
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Word Count: 333 Words
Tags: @zen
Notes: This world will break your heart
Nobody's falling in love |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 29, 2016 10:38:59 GMT -5
I pick all my skirts to be a little too sexy,
just like all my thoughts, they always get a bit naughty~
She giggled again at Mudpelt's words, a pretty sound that bubbled from her muzzle like a stream bubbled over stone. She was surprised Mudpelt actually had the ability to be amusing, from what she had seen of him so far. She had heard about his family, about the tragic amount of loss he and Gustclaw had endured. She had not yet been born when he lost his parents and sister, but she certainly remembered Blazefang. She supposed it might make sense that the two always seemed so somber, though she didn't quite personally understand it. She wouldn't care at all if her parents died, or her brothers. She might mourn them as a loss to LightningClan because she could not deny their usefulness as Clanmates, but they would be no loss to her on a personal level. She did not wish them dead, she was not that cruel, she just didn't care either way if they lived or died.
Her tail flicked behind her as she found a nearby rabbit hole to lie in wait beside as Mudpelt turned to seek out a rabbit for them to catch. He was easy to follow by sight, with his dark pelt in the yellowed grasses. She watched him lazily, struck by the uniqueness of his coloring again. His eyes really did it for him. She didn't understand how a cat so plain looking could interest her so. Plain but unique. He was the epitome of an oxymoron. And she couldn't deny that the way his muscles rippled beneath that dark pelt as she watched him stalk across the meadow was intensely appealing. Her ears twitched as she snapped herself out of it. He was supposed to be thinking things like that about HER, not the other way around. Would she have to start being careful around Mudpelt of all cats? She nearly snorted at the ridiculousness of it.
She completely missed his more subtle signal to alert her he had found prey, noticing only when he burst from the underbrush and the distinctive sound of a rabbit pounding desperately over the earth reached her ears. She tensed, peering carefully over the grass, a few heartbeats before the rabbit was upon her, and leaped straight for it. The creature skidded, eyes wide with fear, but it was too close to stop or turn, flopping heavily onto its side in its attempt at a hairpin turn to escape. She ended its life quickly, before it could emit that awful death noise rabbits were so known for. How she hated that noise. She licked the blood from her mouth, sitting right there and then to lap at her paw and draw it over her face a few times. She would not allow blood to stain her coat, not for long anyway. It was a shame it was so unavoidable, but her pelt was mostly white, and any blemish immediately stood out.
Looking down at the rabbit, she purred. How easy that had been. She'd barely had to move at all. Why her Clanmates didn't always hunt like this, she did not understand. Some cats even liked chasing down their prey on their own. What a waste of time and energy. Her tail flicked dismissively at the harebrained desires of lesser minds and looked around for Mudpelt, purring when she saw him and rising to meet him, brushing against his side affectionately. Larkfeather was not known for her respect of personal space, completely disregarding it in order to surround and overwhelm, her voice lilting like a song, “That was splendid Mudpelt!” She glanced up at the sun, still rising in the sky. All the racket they'd made surely had any prey safely hidden away in this area, but she felt adding one more rabbit to their catch for the day would be far more impressive, and wouldn't take that much more effort. They just had to find a new place to hunt. She passed him, flicking his nose with her tail, “Come on, let's find another before we head home!”
She stashed the rabbit she- they had caught in the hole she had hidden beside and took the lead, jaws parted to scent the air as she traveled at a leisurely pace. Stale scents traveled over her tongue as she weaved through the grass, her tail waving behind her as a constant beckoning to her companion. She caught a faint scent on the breeze and turned suddenly toward it, ears angled forward with interest. She lost the scent briefly, but continued into the wind and caught a hint of it once more, turning back they way they had come slightly before the scent finally became more constant and she paused to look back at Mudpelt, her eyes bright, lowering her voice, “Shall we try the same way as before?” She did not wait for an answer, however, for she had no intention of flushing it out when the easier part to play was lying in wait. She weaved through the grass once more, seeking out a nearby warren that the rabbit would more than likely head toward, thinking safety waited ahead rather than a predator's claws.
When I'm out with my girls I always play a bit bitchy.
Can't change the way I am: sexy, naughty, bitchy me~
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Post by Fawn on Aug 30, 2016 21:17:05 GMT -5
22 Moons. Tom.--
Mudpelt couldn't help but take note of her cleverness, the beautiful she-cat smart enough to wait near the rabbit's likely warren, and the creature ran right into her claws. She sat down immediately to start cleaning herself—his brow furrowed a little at this behavior (was that necessary? Couldn't she just tidy up when they got back to camp?) —so he busied himself with backtracking to make sure his own rabbit from earlier had been buried properly.
When he returned, Larkfeather greeted him in a way that made his limbs lock and his heart race, his tongue tying itself into knots as she brushed against him, the soft downy fur tangling with his for the briefest of moments. There was a compliment in there somewhere, and he heard his name being spoken, but all he could manage was a dumb nod.
Find another... Mudpelt nodded again. "Okay." She was fun to watch, and not just for obvious reasons. There was so much life to her movements; when she was still, she was beautiful, but when she was moving, and smiling, and showing off excellent tracking skills while he stood there like a stupid clump of cat-shaped mud, Larkfeather looked...
He didn't have a good word. He just had a feeling, like looking at the stars too long and getting spots in his eyes because of it. Mudpelt rubbed his face with one stocky brown paw, snapping back to his senses as best he could manage when he had company like this. When do I ever have company like her? Never. She was younger than him, so they didn't spend too much time together; he saw her once or twice in the warriors' den, but they were usually going in opposite directions.
This was probably the first time he'd ever spent more than a moment with her. She was... nice.
Getting back to task was challenging up until the scent of rabbit touched his tongue, and while Larkfeather disappeared into the tall grasses, Mudpelt lowered into a hunter's crouch, stalking forward until he too disappeared with a dry rustle of dehydrated gorse.
With a heavy frown, Mudpelt realized he was on the wrong side of the rabbit. Larkfeather's plan wasn't going to help if he was blocking its path to its den; he moved in a wide circle, then, watching with tension in his shoulders as the rabbit paused, ears quivering. Not yet, not yet, not ye—
The rabbit shot off like an angry hornet, and Mudpelt threw himself into the chase, his face set in a hard look of concentration as his dark paws hammered over the moorland. He was not a fast cat, not normally, but he put on as much speed as he could, feeling the sun scorch his pelt and his lungs start to burn with the effort.
The rabbit veered towards Larkfeather, and Mudpelt tried to stop his momentum, gasping, his sides aching from his unexpected sprint. He felt a little... dizzy... nauseous... Maybe a nap would help? He felt like napping. The sun almost didn't seem so hot anymore.
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Word Count: 513 Words
Tags: @zen
Notes: This is what happens when you try not to disappoint a pretty she-cat.
This world will break your heart
Nobody's falling in love |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 3, 2016 16:33:28 GMT -5
I pick all my skirts to be a little too sexy,
just like all my thoughts, they always get a bit naughty~
Waiting in the grass beside the hole she hoped the rabbit would head toward, she once again watched Mudpelt stalk around it. He was in the middle of repositioning himself so the rabbit would run in the right direction when it took off a bit ahead of schedule, apparently sensing the danger. She was a bit surprised at the amount of speed he was able to put on. Stocky cats like him weren't exactly known for being fast. He managed to get the rabbit on the right track and heading toward her, so she forced herself to pay more attention to the prey bounding at her rather than the tom behind it.
She burst from the grass and tackled the creature, her claws hooking into its flesh as she lost her footing, causing it to emit that horrible screaming noise she so hated. She nearly let it go, but forced herself to dig in her claws instead, so she wouldn't lose it and have to have heard that awful noise for nothing. She gave it the killing bite a moment later and stood over it with her ears pressed flat against her head for a long moment, glaring down at it. Well, even if they had wanted to catch more prey here, they couldn't now, not with that death call warning all creatures from here to StarClan's Claws of the predators stalking the meadow.
Her tail lashed once behind her as she turned to Mudpelt, who was standing some tail-lengths away, gasping for air. Her ears angled forward with concern and padded over to him, “Mudpelt?” She waited a moment, but he didn't respond, so she tried again, pressing her nose to his cheek to try to break him out of this strange daze he was in, “Mudpelt, are you all right?”
When I'm out with my girls I always play a bit bitchy.
Can't change the way I am: sexy, naughty, bitchy me~ Fawn
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Post by Fawn on Sept 3, 2016 22:57:50 GMT -5
22 Moons. Tom.-- To Mudpelt's credit, he was faintly aware that something was off, his senses dulled, clarity buzzing in the back of his brain like a persistent fly. Larkfeather called his name, and he slowly glanced at her, unable to focus on the pretty she-cat's pretty features until she pressed her nose to his cheek.
Like a small jolt of lightning, that meaningless gesture woke up the brown tom enough to start mumbling about rabbits. "Oh, good. You caught it." We should bring... bring what? Bring fresh kill back to camp...
He should go uncover the rabbit he killed earlier but... where was it? Bewildered and still panting, the stocky tom gazed confusedly at the moorlands behind them as if he had forgotten what they were doing there in the first place.
Suddenly, Larkfeather began pushing him towards the crystal creek; he mumbled all kinds of things along the way (and had probably said "you smell like my mother" more than once), but as Larkfeather pushed him into the cool, low waters, he slowly began to rebuild mental function. The water lapped against his fur and soothed him enough to speak properly.
"Thanks, I guess I overheated." His skin burned beneath his pelt, but this time it had very little to do the sun and more to do with his own embarrassment. Larkfeather giggled at him, and then pretended to lose him in the creek.
"Where are you? I can't see you with all this mud everywhere."
Mudpelt smiled sheepishly, about to reply when a hunting party caught up to them. They explained what had happened, and after helping Mudpelt collect his prey, he and Larkfeather were instructed to go back to camp. A visit to Rookfrost wasn't really how Mudpelt wanted to end his hunting trip for the morning (especially since the black healer did not seem to have anything that cured chronic self-induced mortification), but... he didn't regret his actions. He'd still helped Larkfeather catch the rabbit. Er... Hopefully next time the weather would be a little kinder to the stocky brown warrior. And, he reminded himself as he cooled down in the seclusion of the warrior's den, he wouldn't overdo it on the running next time.
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Word Count: 355 Words
Tags: @zen
Notes: Thread end! (Terrible, sorry xD) This world will break your heart
Nobody's falling in love |
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