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Post by Taxx on Feb 9, 2019 22:42:19 GMT -5
Hunger had driven Tadpole from his den, his stomach complaining about the lack of food. Hunting had been difficult- no real surprise, considering that it was leafbare- and he wasn't about to return to the den until he'd found something to eat. He got lucky enough to find a dead bird, half frozen but still edible, and he ate, too hungry to be picky. It wasn't quite enough, but it would do. Time to return to his den to warm up, until he had to hunt again. He couldn't quite resist a bit of trouble-making along the way, locating a mark on the border of the group called TreeClan and spraying his own over it. Then, head up, he trotted along the border, nose wrinkling as the scents changed- NightClan, he knew. He kept a distance from the markers now, but when he spotted the calico, his demeanor changed. A gleam entered his eyes and his step slowed, reaching each paw out as he brazenly paraded in front of her- there were others with her, but he wasn't as certain whether they were female or not. Maybe they'd be impressed too. Ever so carefully, Tadpole angled his path toward the border, changing his pace to an easy trot as he called out to the calico. “Hey there! See something you like? Ditch your buddies there and come away with me. I'll be much more fun, I promise you that.”@zen Fawn |
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Post by Fawn on Feb 18, 2019 7:33:31 GMT -5
One for the money two for the freakshow Some chump was strutting in front of her like a bluejay in newleaf. Nettleheart's eyes narrowed, her already soured mood further ruined by this random loner's cocky display. "You look about as much fun as a pile of maggots. Keep your paws off our border." Nettleheart scoffed, leaning back as if his loner-scent had personally offended her.
Once upon a time, she would have been in his pawprints - just a loner out looking for food and maybe someone to talk to - but that path had been closed to her for seasons upon seasons. Nostalgia wasn't something Nettleheart cared about; her demeanor had hardened, and she'd quickly taken on her adopted Clan's loners are trouble policy. If he was here looking for sympathy or companionship, he was foxdung out of luck.
She heard pawsteps behind her and knew Snakestep was approaching, but the voice that called to her wasn't her brother's. It was Willowpelt's, the older she-cat sounding exasperated that their hunting party had been interrupted.
"What's the hold up?"
"A whole lot of nothing." Nettleheart sneered, preparing to turn back to rejoin Willowpelt and Snakestep. The sooner they caught something, the sooner they could get out of this wretched cold. Her paws were starting to freeze, and she could feel the cold wind on her teeth and roof of her mouth when she spoke. Wild child got the fever tonight21 Moons | Warrior | NightClan Nettleheart |
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Post by Deleted on Mar 17, 2019 12:28:47 GMT -5
Nettleheart had gotten a bit ahead of him, but Snakestep remained with Willowpelt as the older she-cat headed after his sister. When he heard voices, one of them Nettleheart's, he quickened his steps, however, hurrying after his sister. Willowpelt called ahead and it didn't seem like she was in any trouble a least, but as he got closer he saw her standing across from a stranger. Padding to her side, he kept his red gaze on the gray tom, lifting his tail slightly in greeting to him, “He's not causing any trouble, you weren't being mean to him were you?” His gaze flicked to Nettleheart as he nudged her with his shoulder playfully. “Don't mind her, she's always grumpy,” he grinned at Nettleheart and took a quick step back before she could offer him a retaliatory swat for the tease. He glanced back toward where Willowpelt was still heading for them, looking annoyed by the distraction, and then back at the tom, “Sorry we can't really stay and talk, we're kinda supposed to be hunting.”
Taxx Fawn |
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Post by Taxx on Mar 17, 2019 13:45:12 GMT -5
My shadow's the only one that walks beside me The fiery reply only heightened Tadpole's interest and he held his place, his gaze bright. "Rude," he sniffed, but the purr in his voice made it obvious that he was hardly offended. "Don't worry, Clan cat, I'm not here to challenge you. I'll keep my paws out of NightClan's land." But he wasn't about to leave just yet, despite the way the calico was glaring at him, like she'd sink claws into him if he gave her the slightest reason. So long as he kept a few tail-lengths away, he'd have a good chance of out-running her if she lunged at him.
Two others showed up then, however, and Tadpole glanced past the she-cat to take in the silver tabby and the white tom who followed; his eyes widened at the sight of the red-eyed gaze of the tom. For just a moment his thoughts flashed back to his brother, stunned by the resemblance... but no, this couldn't be him. Snake was dead, had been for seasons.
It was still surprising, running across another one like his brother, and those red eyes were unusual and unnerving. Tadpole could not help staring for a moment, unsure of what to do or say, but finally decided to pretend the white tom simply did not exist. He turned his head, giving no reply to the attempt at friendly conversation, and focused his attention instead back on the calico and the new arrival, the silver tabby.
A whole lot of nothing. Well, he'd had worse insults, and at least it wasn't a face full of claws that'd been her answer- not that she'd think twice about such a reaction, he was sure. "That's not nice," he purred at her; if she'd expected him to get angry, or was trying to rile him up, she'd be disappointed. "Don't get all worked up, kitten, I'm leaving. You ever change your mind, just ask around for Tadpole. They know where my den is."
@zen Fawn Tadpole Loner |
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Post by Fawn on Mar 18, 2019 15:28:52 GMT -5
One for the money two for the freakshow Tadpole!
Any intention she had of walking off without another word shattered into a thousand pieces. Nettleheart's dull yellow eyes widened, first with revulsion at the tom's disgusting flirtations, and then with fury. All three of Scratch's kits were standing here, unable to recognize each other - and who's fault was that? Nettleheart felt her body quiver as a growl rippled through from the tips of her toes to the tops of her ears, teeth showing along the way.
"Tadpole?" Nettleheart marched across the border, ignoring Snakestep's playful words and the inevitable confusion he'd feel about her next words. "Pass along a message to Scratch for me. Tell that pathetic excuse for a mother to go die in a ditch!" The insults seared across her tongue, coming out fast and without remorse - as if something inside her had finally bubbled up. Nettleheart locked gazes with the cocky tom, refusing to acknowledge him as any real sibling of hers - but unable to let him walk away without knowing the truth. "Tell her Scrap and Snake are doing great without her."
Nettleheart turned her searing sights onto the rest of the treeline, feeling a murderous pulse under her skin at the chance of their mother showing up. What would she say to her? What would she do to her? Somehow without her conscious effort, Nettleheart's claws had unsheathed, the young calico looking fully prepared to shred the nearest living creature that came too close.
Realizing she was trembling, Nettleheart took a deep breath and stepped back - away from Tadpole, back towards Snakestep - forcing her claws back in. Wherever she is, she's not worth it. Wild child got the fever tonight21 Moons | Warrior | NightClan Nettleheart |
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Post by Taxx on Apr 2, 2019 19:34:34 GMT -5
My shadow's the only one that walks beside me The calico's growl was a brief warning before she was stalking toward him, his name spoken with a hint of a snarl, and he was retreating. Not running, but definitely backing away, because there was no way she was approaching for any reason he'd want to stick around for. One paw lifted as he halted, claws curving from their sheaths as he pinned his ears back. He wouldn't make the first strike, but if she tried, she'd find he knew how to defend himself just fine. So long as the other two didn't decide to jump in on their Clanmate's behalf.
It was the calico's words, however, that cooled his wariness into confusion. Scratch? It'd been a full turn of seasons since he'd seen her last. He thought about her now and then, when he made a catch or defended himself- or when he caught a whiff of the stench of Demon, the lynx who'd claimed her life. But how... His eyes widened, gaze flicking behind her to where the white tom stood. Scrap and Snake? Green eyes returned to the calico, a chill creeping down his spine as he gaped, paw dropping back to the ground. "Scrap?"
His sister, his brother. No- that couldn't be. They were dead! For a moment the explanation about Scratch's own death burned, nearly spilled, but the heat of anger from Scrap made him hesitate, and the insults sank in. Uncertainty was swept by his own irritation and he straightened. "Pathetic? Her? Please. Says the one who couldn't stop mewling for two seconds about your dead brother." His eyes flashed past Scrap again, meeting briefly with the white tom's- not dead? whispered one half of his mind, while the other repeated what Scratch had said to him over and over. That couldn't be Snake, just couldn't be. Why would Scratch lie about that?
"I thought you were dead too, after you ran off. Couldn't make it on your own? I guess NightClan suits you, Scrap. Did you find him here, or on the way?" Flicking his tail at the albino tom- not Snake- Tadpole kept his eyes averted. It was too confusing, and he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he was missing. This- he didn't like it. How could this be Scrap, and that be Snake?
It was just easier to fall back on what he knew, and to cling to it, and so he did, eyes narrowing to slits as he glared down at the calico who had to be his sister- there was no other way she'd know the name of his mother. But that was as far as he'd give.
@zen Fawn Tadpole Loner |
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Post by Fawn on Apr 10, 2019 21:08:31 GMT -5
One for the money two for the freakshow "Snake's obviously not dead, you stupid heap of foxdung!" Tadpole's defense of Scratch was infuriating all on it's own - but the way he chose to deny Snakestep's existence when their brother was standing right there was too much for her to handle. Nettleheart had grown more feral at mention of her loner name, and it showed in the arch of her spine, fur bristled, and the hateful narrow-eyed stare - as if she could skewer Tadpole on her claws and fling him away like a piece of soiled moss.
"You're defending her? The worst mother in the entire valley? Makes sense. You're the only one she didn't leave behind for foxes to find." Nettleheart spit onto the grass between them. It might as well have been a river, for she had no intention of crossing. "We're NightClan now. Nettleheart and Snakestep," hissed the calico, haughty. She would never let him know of her struggles to be accepted, of her clashes and petty arguments while she adjusted to Clan life.
Memories of the three of them playing welled up like a bad cough, tightening her throat and solidifying her anger. "Get out of here, Tadpole. Go back where you came from. Now you know that our mother was a lying foxheart." Nettleheart turned and marched back to Snakestep's side, touching his flank protectively with a skinny color-splotched tail. "We don't need you. We're doing fine by ourselves."
And that, she was proud to say, was the truth.
Wild child got the fever tonight21 Moons | Warrior | NightClan Nettleheart |
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Post by Deleted on May 14, 2019 13:23:11 GMT -5
“Erm…,” Snakestep hesitated uncertainly as as the loner blatantly ignored him in favor of Nettleheart. And then-
"Don't get all worked up, kitten, I'm leaving. You ever change your mind, just ask around for Tadpole. They know where my den is."
“Tadpole?” Recognition dawned on the albino tom’s face as he really looked at his brother. Sure, there could be other toms named Tadpole, but vague memories played back to him in his mind’s eye, playing with a gray tom that looked so very similar, if a good deal smaller. But before Snakestep could say anything else Nettleheart was marching up to their brother, spitting furious words. Snakestep’s ears flicked back and he took a hesitant step after her, afraid she was about to attack the other tom. They were littermates, they shouldn’t fight, they should….
Tadpole wasn’t anymore friendly in his response and Snakestep’s ears flattened. Dead brother…? Him. Scratch had told them he was dead. He took a half step back, away from both his siblings, his gaze dropping to his paws. He felt so out of place with them arguing over their mother. And Tadpole… he was acting like he wasn’t even here. How could his brother not recognize him?
He jumped at the sudden touch from his sister, looking up to find her beside him once more, and he couldn’t help but press close, gazing across the border at Tadpole. They were littermates… they should all be so happy to finally find each other again, and instead…. He swallowed a hard lump of emotion and took back the step he had retreated, his red gaze sad as he looked across at Tadpole, “I’m glad you’re still alive.” Despite Nettleheart’s hostility, despite Tadpole’s own toward her, he really was glad to know his brother lived.
But if his mother was near, he had nothing to say to her. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he was ever faced with the she-cat that had abandoned him. So he focused on Tadpole instead, “I hope… I hope you’re happy, too.” He glanced at his sister, “We are.” For a heartbeat, he wanted to ask his brother to join them. To come to NightClan with them so they could be a family again. But after the way he and Nettleheart had reacted to each other, he wasn’t so sure that was a good idea, so he held his tongue. Besides, it wasn’t his place to invite anyone into the Clan. Even he and Nettleheart still faced some prejudice from their Clanmates for not being born into NightClan, though they had spent nearly their whole lives there thus far. He couldn’t imagine they would react any better to Tadpole. And if Tadpole was still with Scratch then....
Fawn Taxx |
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Post by Taxx on Jun 16, 2019 16:12:01 GMT -5
My shadow's the only one that walks beside me Right there. Tadpole's eyes could not help flicking toward the red-eyed tom again, but he looked away and snorted his denial of Scrap's statement. "No," he growled, tail lashing in fury at the accusation. "She wouldn't do that." Why would she? Scratch had never once given him any reason to doubt her love, had always looked out for him- until her death. And even then she had ensured he knew enough to live on his own.
He straightened, gaze flashing between the two- barely taking notice of the third cat, who was watching with confusion all over her face. "I don't care. You go on, do what you want, and I'll do what I want. You're both dead as far as I'm concerned." He didn't bother reacting to Snake, despite the brief twitch of an ear at the sound of his voice, refused to even look in the white tom's direction. "Scratch and I are doing just fine by ourselves too."
His heart squeezed just a bit at that lie, but he wasn't going to give Scrap the joy of knowing Scratch had died seasons ago. She didn't deserve that knowledge- especially not considering manner of which their mother had died. Scrap would just gloat and Tadpole wouldn't give her the satisfaction. He only shot her another glare and then turned his back on the border and headed away, toward his den. His belly churned, his mind racing- and for the first time in a long time he wished Scratch still was alive, if only so he could ask her if what she'd told him was true.
No. He crushed that thought, held himself taller, and trotted off. Scrap might have run off and found NightClan, but he refused to believe that his mother had outright lied about Snake's death. No matter what Scrap said, that tom wasn't him. He couldn't be.
@zen Fawn Tadpole Loner |
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