[Taxx]

Careful, careful. Step by slow step, her gaze fixed on the twitching tail, blue eyes darting frequently to make sure the cat wasn’t looking at her; that would spoil it. Surely he couldn’t know she was creeping up on him; she’d been ever so quiet as she’d left the nursery, her eyes flitting across the camp before settling on him and lighting up with instant mischief. She ignored the fact that Blackwolf probably wouldn’t enjoy getting pounced on. She wasn’t even sure if she’d be successful. He seemed unaware, but the old black tom was definitely not slow.

Crowkit wasn’t going to give up that easily. If he didn’t know, then she’d deal with his anger afterward; if he did, then either he’d stop her now or wait until she was just about to leap before turning his head and pinning her with a sharp look from different colored eyes.

Another step. And one more. Breathing as lightly as possible, no huffing that would give her away. Tail up to keep it from dragging across the ground. Eyes now locked firmly on the inviting tip of the tom’s tail. Tense. Brace. And leap!
Fawn

[Fawn]

BLACKWOLF

First, No Sequel do The Math, No Equal

Most kits knew better than to provoke the irritable ex-elder. Most kits, however, weren't his kin. Blackwolf's right ear swiveled, catching the quiet, sloppy footfalls of a young cat sneaking up on him. Familiarity with his grandkits' scent confirmed it was one of Bonetail's three, and a second of indifferent consideration narrowed it down further.

The footfalls stopped.

Blackwolf moved his tail two mouselengths to the left, shifting his weight so that he could fix the kit with a bicolored glower. "Nice try. For a mouse." The senior tom wet a paw and wiped it over his muzzle and whiskers in a quick cleaning, before beckoning the she-kitten over. When Crowkit was within scuffing distance, Blackwolf began to prod the kit into a proper hunter's crouch. "That's how it's supposed to be. What's that fluffheaded father of yours teaching you?" Nothing, if he knew Bonetail. The art of being barely worth more to the Clan than a half-eaten squirrel. Blackwolf almost rolled his eyes.

It still surprised him that of all his kits, Bonetail had been the one to have the most success with romance. Obviously Bonetail's looks had gotten him far. And Dimstar's breeding regulations had been removed. Otherwise, the three furballs Lilyfrost had birthed might not have existed at all. Keeping his gaze locked on his granddaughter, Blackwolf flicked an ear. "Walk a few froglengths. Get used to how that feels."

79 Moons NightClan Senior Warrior

221 Words || Taxx || Notes: Sorry for the wait!

[Taxx]

CROWKIT

Somehow Crowkit wasn't surprised that Blackwolf had heard. Sure, she'd been quiet, but it was incredibly hard to pull the moss over his eyes, and he just wouldn't be Blackwolf if he were... well, like Bonetail. She landed at the spot his tail had been, patting at the ground in a moment of frustration, and then glanced up to meet the tom's odd-eyed gaze.

"A mouse wouldn't be trying to pounce on you," she sniffed, reaching out a daring paw for his tail again, only to pause when he waved her closer; she obeyed, accepting willingly the prodding as he guided her into the correct stance for the hunting crouch, snorting in amusement. "Bonetail? Teach?" He could barely rouse himself to do patrols or hunt. “The only thing he knows how to do is whine about how dirty everything is.” She could say things like that about him- he was her father, after all.

Her face scrunched in concentration, wobbling a bit as she lifted a paw and fighting the urge to rise back to her full height. It didn’t feel right, but she knew well enough that this was how cats caught prey; many times she had watched a warrior demonstrate a catch, adding action to words by stalking for his listeners. Sliding forward, lifting a hind foot and lashing her tail to keep from falling over. She wasn’t about to give up, though; she could do this.

Despite several more wobbles, having to stumble at least once to catch herself, Crowkit made it the froglengths Blackwolf had instructed, and then she spun about and returned to her grandfather, pausing a mouselength away and waggling her haunches, the gleam of mischief in her eyes now, and pounced, landing in front of the old tom and sitting up, nose-to-nose with him and purring. “Should I go again?”

watch me, i'll make a name for myself

Fawn

[Fawn]

BLACKWOLF

First, No Sequel do The Math, No Equal

Crowkit white coat stood out starkly against his dark one. She reminded Blackwolf of his mate's brother, Spiriteye; yet another cat that had been lost to sickness or the cruelness of fate. It didn't fill him with sadness, to draw these similarities. That was life. A warrior's life. Cats lived. Cats fought. Cats died. No one said life was easy; Ghostlight's death had robbed him of much of his joy, but he was still here. Still living, still fighting.

The senior tom observed the kit stumbling around in front of him, and he corrected her stance more than once - nudging her back into proper position. "Again. When you've figured it out, go pounce on that featherbrained father of yours." Blackwolf ordered, his gruff mew containing a low, unfriendly chuckle. If his chronically lazy son wanted to pass off the role of parenthood to someone else, then he was going to have to pay for it.

It was natural, if not expected for a kit to surpass their parent. Crowkit, Graykit and Ghostkit had a duty. To carry on a legacy that Bonetail paid little attention to; until Hollystorm had her own litter, Blackwolf's lineage would live and breathe through Crowkit and her siblings.

And he would not sit back and watch them grow as fat and lazy as their father.

79 Moons NightClan Senior Warrior

220 Words || Taxx || Notes