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Post by Fawn on Oct 11, 2012 11:11:43 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true] Blackwolf 28 moons, Warrior, NightClan |
[/color] Cat: Here // Table by Phoenix It's just instinct, Blackwolf almost blurted out, but remembrance of the brown warrior's pitiful amount of that had Blackwolf's mind reeling back for a different sort of explanation. "Timing, observation, proper stalking techniques," replied the more experienced tom, his mismatched eyes flickering to their corners to study Ratfur's narrow face, as if debating whether or not a lesson or two was even worth his time. Bet if I showed him, he'd still fail at it. As a cat to whom hunting, fighting, and generally anything that required physical prowess came incredibly easy to him, to see Ratfur, well, suck as much as he did was both painful and mind-boggling. How could any cat be that bad at hunting?
Was it even possible? Your mother must've pissed off StarClan or something, he inwardly scoffed at this, or maybe you really are part rat? Perhaps his prefix hadn't been such a stretch after all. Missing the easy company of Hawkbone and Dogfang, Blackwolf tried to make the most of his unpleasant situation with an even more unpleasant lackey, attempting to put on a slightly less angry tone than before. "At least where we're going it's hard to make a lot of noise, so practice stalking and crouching all you want." Blackwolf even considered interjecting a few times to correct Ratfur's form, but it was more out of probable boredom and the spare time to do so then any actual expectation of Ratfur's improvement.
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Oct 13, 2012 16:16:12 GMT -5
[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: 409 notes: -- credits: [style=font-size: 8px;]Cat from here Be Prepared - Lion King |
[/div][/style][/color][/td][td] Ratfur could feel assessing eyes on him, and he turned to look back at their owner. He kept his expression open, eyes imploring Blackwolf to understand. "I can stalk the prey," He saw fit to say, "That's not the hard part. I can get close. I just can't catch it." The tom struggled for words; he had no other way to explain it. He would do everything correctly, but the other creature would still somehow manage to escape. It was infuriating. "It's like attempting to catch fog, Blackwolf," The tom tried again, flicking his tail. "It just slips through your claws." An unsheathed claw slashed at the ground in frustration before Ratfur reigned in his emotions and continued on his way. For once, his words were completely honest, born of a genuine desire to improve his hunting abilities or lack thereof.
Green eyes fell to his paws, and he sighed, wishing, not for the first time, that his natural talent lay in hunting or fighting rather than tracking and stalking. No clan needed a warrior who could find others on a daily basis, and his skill in this area was painfully under-used; they just needed warriors to feed and defend the clan. As if sensing his mounting dejection, Blackwolf spoke again, his tone less angry than before. Practice would be good, yes, Ratfur knew, but he was loathe to accept it from the other feline in his one-sided rivalry. He did not want the older warrior laughing at his attempts, doomed to fail from the start. The tom did have some pride left, no matter how small it had grown after being beaten down for his whole life. But that was a small part of him, and he was so used to oppressing it that he now did it without a thought in order to maintain his character. The Ratfur he played would accept the advice, and gladly.
"I think I'll do that then," Ratfur meowed, forcing his voice to sound lighter and more grateful than he felt. "If it won't ruin your hunting, that is. I can stay quiet if you want me to, otherwise. It's not that hard." He paused, then added more hesitantly, "Do you have any advice? What can I do to improve?" The words tasted like crowfood in his mouth. [/td][/tr][tr][td][CS=2] and seen for the wonder i am. [/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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Post by Fawn on Oct 14, 2012 11:26:49 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true] Blackwolf 28 moons, Warrior, NightClan |
[/color] Cat: Here // Table by Phoenix Blackwolf was never very good at this advice thing, especially not with a case where someone just kept continuously failing no matter what they did. Blackwolf didn't know why Ratfur couldn't catch very much, so his mind backtracked, trying to mentally scroll through Ratfur's past as though he could find anything that would somehow give Ratfur a reason for his atrocious hunting abilities. Pinepaw? No...that's not quite it... Ratfur's not still grieving... Careful assessment of his friend's behavior and mannerisms told him that he'd gotten over Pinepaw, fortunately. Was it possible he was afraid of suffering the same fate as Pinepaw? That didn't seem likely either...
Ratfur was just Ratfur. That's it!
"This is going to sound about as mouse-brained as a singing badger," started Blackwolf with a note of cynicism, a cue that he was going to be serious for a few seconds. "But uh...when you go hunting this time, pretend you're someone else. Ratfur might not be able to catch much, but a TigerClan warrior can." Blackwolf gave an irritated flick of his ears, rolling his broad shoulders to play off the slight silliness he was feeling. "I've seen kits sometimes wander out of camp and catch something - not because they had any, well, skill, but because they thought they could, and that's half the battle."
Approaching the new terrain, the muscular NightClanner slowed to a stop, turning to face his long-bodied, narrow-faced companion. "Make sense?" He mewed, holding onto the warrior's pale gaze with his own mismatched, intent stare. In this part of the territory, both Blackwolf and Ratfur had the advantage of pelt color, they truly belonged to NightClan, that was without a doubt. There should be no reason why they couldn't bring back a ton of fresh kill for their Clan.
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Oct 15, 2012 16:48:36 GMT -5
[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: 384 notes: -- credits: [style=font-size: 8px;]Cat from here Be Prepared - Lion King |
[/div][/style][/color][/td][td] As mousebrained as a singing badger? Ratfur swallowed. This did not sound good. The Blackwolf he knew did not make a habit of sounding as mousebrained as a singing badger, and even if he caught the cyncial tones in the tom's voice that indicated complete seriousness, he still found himself slightly worried. Tail swishing lazily through the air behind him, he braced himself for the worst. It couldn't be that bad, could it? This was Blackwolf he was talking about; the warrior was more of a brute force feline than a cunning one like Hawkbone. Surely he couldn't come up with something too horrid. Somehow that did not comfort him.
He is as mousebrained as a singing badger. Honestly, Ratfur tried to hide his skepticism at the suggestion, but he was not quite sure if it worked. His face felt distinctly frozen in an awkward half-smile as his mind tried to comprehend what Blackwolf had just suggested. "Pretend I'm someone else...?" The sound of his own voice echoing the crazy words snapped the wiry tom out of it, and he forced his features into something more appropriate. A moment later, the irony of the suggestion caught up with him, though it could only be appreciated by him. Every day he pretended to be someone he wasn't. Every day he buried the depth of his thoughts. Every day he appeared as open and hopeful as he had been as a kit. Every day he hid his cunning and ambition, waiting and nursing the little seeds of revenge planted in his head. Oh, Blackwolf, it makes more sense than you'll ever realize.
Eyes flicking to briefly meet Blackwolf's intense stare, Ratfur answered quietly, "It makes sense. I think I could try it; it's as good as any other suggestion, anyway." Pretend he was someone else, a warrior from the legendary TigerClan who had claim to the the of the best hunter. He knew the ideas behind the crouches, and he knew how to kill. He knew when to stay hidden, and he knew when to reveal his presense. He could hunt. He would bring prey back to NightClan. This is mousebrained.
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Post by Fawn on Oct 15, 2012 23:03:58 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true] Blackwolf 28 moons, Warrior, NightClan |
[/color] Cat: Here // Table by Phoenix The longer he thought about it, the quicker the embarrassment set in. Feeling his skin burn beneath his fur, Blackwolf hid his awkwardness with a scoff, spitting on the ground in front of him again. "You know what? Forget I said anything. Just concentrate on hunting." What the heck were you telling him? Pretend he's someone else? How mousebrained can you get? Just shut up and hunt. Ever Blackwolf's on harshest critic, he squared his shoulders and stalked forward, making not a sound as he hungrily searched for any kind of prey, forgetting Ratfur and Ratfur's troubles in the blink of an eye - too utterly absorbed in the hunt.
The hunt was almost the best part. In his none-too-humble opinion, going in for the kill, that deep sense of power it gave him knowing that he was the top predator in the forest gave him an unimaginable thrill. Perhaps all that tormenting from Hawkscreech had hardened his heart so solidly that things like killing creatures that were weaker than he seemed like good fun to Blackwolf nowadays. He was the product of a vicious cycle, really. Hawkscreech's father had been a bully, thus Hawkscreech had come to follow in his father's footsteps. When Blackwolf had come into being - with no credit going to Hawkscreech, actually - the hard hammer of 'tough love' always left a lasting impression, and that impression had turned into a major chunk of Blackwolf's personality. Maybe a few years later, he'd get over Hawkscreech and Hawkscreech's attitude, but until then, the solid black tom wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.
Unconsciously shaking off the embarrassment by relying on brute strength and skill, Blackwolf glanced around for Ratfur, a pathetically small robin clutched between his jaws. Not even worth a snack. Growling to himself, he left the brown warrior to work on...not pretending to be himself, or whatever it was that Ratfur did when he tried hunting. There was a certain amount of loneliness that came with being out in the Pine Forest without his two other friends. Ratfur was company, sure, but he wasn't the kind of company Blackwolf truly savored. Having the sharp-tongued Hawkbone, and the loyal Dogfang at his side was his usual desired company for hunting for the Clan, but the both of them had been busy, leaving Blackwolf with nothing but the table scraps rather than the whole meal.
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Oct 21, 2012 12:04:29 GMT -5
[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: lazy notes: -- credits: [style=font-size: 8px;]Cat from here Be Prepared - Lion King |
[/div][/style][/color][/td][td] Blackwolf seemed to regret his suggestion, and Ratfur masterfully hid his amusement at the larger tom's obvious embarrassment. He could practically feel it flowing off of his companion in waves and was instantly glad that he had deigned to ask the question. Despite the lack of a decent answer he had received, the smugness he felt at Blackwolf's mortification made it completely worth it. The great, powerful warrior did not know everything after all. Just more proof that brawn did not equate to brains. Which made Hawkbone all the more challenging of an opponent.
When the ebony warrior moved off to hunt, Ratfur decided that he would not even try. He had embarrassed himself once earlier that day, with the mousebrained frog and mud pit; he was not keen to do so again, especially in front of the other tom. Instead, he sat in silence, very conscious of the twigs around him, and began to groom the remaining mud from his fur. The fact that he was once again out in the muddy territory was counterproductive, but at least it was not flaking off into his nest where he would have to spend the night. Grimacing at the foul taste in his mouth, Ratfur looked up at the sound of pawsteps, expecting to see Blackwolf returning with some large bird to gloat over. For a moment, he delayed looking up as he forced his features away from the disgusted look that had formed from his thoughts and the taste of mud, but when he did, Blackwolf was no where in sight. The wiry tom narrowed his eyes, peering around for the source of the sound, shoving aside his irritation at being abandoned. If that wasn't his companion he had heard, then what was it...?
A second look around the area gave him the answer. Another frog, hopping across a rotten log. Blackwolf was no where in sight, and probably out of earshot too. The ground looked fairly dry around the log. Ratfur shrugged as he rose to his paws. It was worth a shot. Crouching down, the tom instinctively moved out of the open space and into the shadows, unsheathing deadly claws while he drew closer to the frog. Just as he got within pouncing range, the frog turned and pinned him with a look. Its smug expression combined with its lazy croak made the warrior pull back his lips in a snarl. How dare that frog mock him! A paw lashed out and claws caught the frog, shoving it off the log. Ratfur followed shortly after, reveling in the power he felt as he dug his claws into his prey. Not so cocky now, are you. He spat at the carcass before straightening up, satisfaction running through him. He had caught something, and not only that, but he had also proved a piece of prey wrong. ... proved a piece of prey wrong. Way to go, Ratfur. Arguing with a frog. How much farther can you fall?
Telling his thoughts to shut up, the warrior picked up the frog by a leg, his mood considerably less celebratory. Green eyes scanned the area for the tom again, thinking that perhaps he had wandered back while Ratfur had been caught up with the frog. A sigh escaped him when he did not see the familiar shape. Paws carried him back to his starting point as he debated following after Blackwolf. Honestly, he didn't really want to, but when had his wants ever mattered? The older tom probably expected him to follow a pawstep behind, like a shadow. So that's what Ratfur needed to do. Scenting the air, he caught Blackwolf's distinctive scent, obvious to him since he had spent so much time around the older tom, and the wiry warrior began to follow it, his reluctance buried deep.
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Post by Fawn on Oct 24, 2012 13:57:36 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable] | [atrb=style, background-color: #1A1A1A; border-radius: 35px;][STYLE=height: 250px; width: 460px; margin-top: 6px; opacity: 0.7; border-radius: 30px; background-image: url(http://i90.photobucket.com/albums/k258/nuttybuddy5/Warriors/Frogpaw-Header.jpg);][/style][STYLE=font-family: times new roman; font-style: italic; font-size: 45px; color: #E7E1CD; text-transform: lowercase; margin-top: -30px; letter-spacing: -3px; opacity: 0.99; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px #000000;] YOU ONLY GOT ONE LIFE TO LEAD[/style][STYLE=font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; margin-top: -10px; color: #CEC6AA; letter-spacing: 2px; text-transform: uppercase;]SO DON'T TAKE FOR GRANTED THE LITTLE THINGS[/style] [STYLE=font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; margin-right: 13px; margin-left: 13px; text-align: justify; background-color: #99FF99; padding: 13px; color: #000000; margin-top: 6px; opacity: 0.95; margin-bottom: 1px; border-bottom-right-radius: 30px; border-bottom-left-radius: 30px;] SWAMP LAWS - Law Number #37: It's usually never a good idea to go running through the swamp shortly after it's rained, for obvious reasons. This was a bad idea! Frogpaw yelped as she lost traction, tripping over the wing of an ugly little swamp bird she'd caught just a few moments before, the action sending her hurtling through the mud to smack into something warm, brown and furry. Oh great Raggedstar I've crashed into a bear! In her excitement to get back to Boneshadow with the funny little bird she'd snagged, Frogpaw had ignored her sense of caution and common sense to go pelting through the marshlands like a mousebrain, and the consequences were both embarrassing and painful. Landing awkwardly with her muzzle stuck in mud and her rump in the air, Frogpaw sat up, spitting out marsh mud with obvious revulsion. "UGH! Who needs death berries? That stuff'll kill ya for sure!" Voicing aloud her disgust, Frogpaw climbed to all fours again, shaking the excess muddy water from her pelt and glancing to the furry brown creature she'd crashed into. Giant rat-- oh wait. A NightClan warrior. Frogpaw chuckled, "Hey sorry, I didn't see you! - is that a frog?" Pointing to his piece of fresh kill with her nose, Frogpaw chuckled again, this time her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Wouldn't it have been funnier if I'd crashed into you with a rat while you'd crashed into me with a frog? There's a word for that... Irony? I think that's it. Maybe. Or not." Losing interest, Frogpaw shrugged her narrow, brown-marbled shoulders. Whiskers twitching, she blurted out her curiosities: "So how come you're out here, Ratfur? Stalking after Blackwolf and Dogfang again?" Even an apprentice her age was aware of the hierarchy within the 'pack', that group of four warriors who strutted around NightClan like they owned the place. OOC: ;) Taking a slight break from Blackwolf! Giving Frogpaw a chance to interact with cats besides Boneshadow! [/style][STYLE=width: 400px; text-align: center; font-size: 9px; color: #565656; text-transform: uppercase; margin-top: 0px; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 3px; opacity: 0.9;]made by kiwii at btn & ote![/style] |
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Oct 25, 2012 19:04:16 GMT -5
[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: 801 notes: -- credits: [style=font-size: 8px;]Cat from here Be Prepared - Lion King |
[/div][/style][/color][/td][td] And then, just as he took another step, something whammed into him from the side, easily causing him to stumble to the side with the force behind it. Cursing, he tried to regain his balance, and the frog flew from his jaws. Vaguely, he acknowledged the splat that it made a short distance away, but he was too distracted by other, more important matters. Like not falling in the mud puddle that was directly under his paws. A wiry tail swung itself around, and he managed to right himself with minimal embarassment and problems. Smoothing down his ruffled chest fur with a few quick licks, Ratfur cast a glare in the direction of the furry object that had rammed into his side, which, now that he thought about it, was more than a little sore. It did not take him very long to recognize the dark pattern of the other cat's pelt, identifying the apprentice as Frogpaw.
As his mind instantly travelled back to everything he knew of the apprentice, Ratfur allowed a look of disgust to cross over his features as she shook out her fur. All that mud went from one pelt to the other, and now he imagined that he resembled the the dirty ground more than a feline, since he had so much mud hanging to his fur. The apprentice spoke, her words energetic and fast, reminding the warrior very vividly of the amount of energy that this she-cat held in her small body. As she yapped at him, he went to collect his catch, which looked even more pathetic now that it was coated with a layer of mud. But it was a catch. His tail flicked at her words, and he wondered idly if she expected him to answer. If so, did she not realize that she would have to give him a chance to speak? However, he remembered that about the apprentice; Frogpaw was rather talkative and outgoing. She would probably talk to a tree, Ratfur mused, a bolt of distaste shooting through him as he noticed the bird she held. At least she also has a rather unfortunate name.
But how to deal with her? He did not have much experience interacting with the lively she-cat, and so he did not have a particular way he dealt with her. Not like he did when in Blackwolf's company, for example. Of course, he should not deviate too much from his basic act, but the best way to lose suspicion was to gain trust. Even better, by working on worming himself into the hearts of the youth, Ratfur was making life in the future easeir for himself. The kits and apprentices were generally innocent enough to look past faults, basing their opinions more on character than a lack of ability and skill; they would accept him more readily than the older felines. If he managed to convince the new generations that he was someone who deserved recognition and was worth following... Half his work would be done for him. By working on Frogpaw now, he would be killing to frogs with one swipe, so to speak.
Naturally, the she-cat had cunning and sharp tongue that usually reared its face throughout the clan. A dry, witty sense of humor. The ambition and desire to prove herself, which ran rampant in every apprentice, would have to be addressed as well. A little bit of ambition and a dash of praise. But she also had the energy of an apprentice, something his usual companions lacked. He would have to compensate for that as well. Patience, Ratur, patience. That was a good base to start with, and he could deviate and change a little as their conversation wore on. His instincts with improvisation had always been reliable. When the apprentice finally stopped talking, the warrior took it as his cue to begin.
"Quite honestly," Ratfur began smoothly, dryly, "I think it would be best if we did not collide at all. Are you ok? You're not hurt?" He had to sound a little like he cared; felines did not warm up to indifferent clan mates, after all. "But I think the word you're searching for is, in fact, irony. And yes, I'm out here with Blackwolf, if that's what you're asking. I went off to catch this frog--" His wiry tail flicked to the frog lying at his paws "--and he was gone. But nevermind that; I'm sure he can fend for himself." And then some, Ratfur added, not bothing to hide the twinge of jealousy he felt. "Why are you in such a rush, Frogpaw?"
[/td][/tr][tr][td][CS=2] and seen for the wonder i am. [/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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Post by Fawn on Oct 25, 2012 22:56:36 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable] | [atrb=style, background-color: #1A1A1A; border-radius: 35px;][STYLE=height: 250px; width: 460px; margin-top: 6px; opacity: 0.7; border-radius: 30px; background-image: url(http://i90.photobucket.com/albums/k258/nuttybuddy5/Warriors/Frogpaw-Header.jpg);][/style][STYLE=font-family: times new roman; font-style: italic; font-size: 45px; color: #E7E1CD; text-transform: lowercase; margin-top: -30px; letter-spacing: -3px; opacity: 0.99; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px #000000;] YOU ONLY GOT ONE LIFE TO LEAD[/style][STYLE=font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; margin-top: -10px; color: #CEC6AA; letter-spacing: 2px; text-transform: uppercase;]SO DON'T TAKE FOR GRANTED THE LITTLE THINGS[/style] [STYLE=font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; margin-right: 13px; margin-left: 13px; text-align: justify; background-color: #99FF99; padding: 13px; color: #000000; margin-top: 6px; opacity: 0.95; margin-bottom: 1px; border-bottom-right-radius: 30px; border-bottom-left-radius: 30px;] Why the rush, he asked? "Do you like hunting here?" responded the pretty tabby she-cat pointedly, eyes aglitter with dry humor. "Sorry about crashing into you though, I just wanted to get back to camp already - Boneshadow had me trying more difficult hunting grounds than near the pine trees." Her apology was less rushed than before, but there was something offhanded about it, as though it had occurred to her at the last moment and she hadn't enough time to properly wrap it up in the necessary amounts of remorse. Doesn't it suck following Blackwolf around all day? He looks so bossy. Clawpaw really likes him, but... Frogpaw's skin burned beneath her pelt for reasons she couldn't explain, letting her thoughts trail off and then pick themselves up again into a much more interesting topic. "Why don't you just ditch bossy bones and go hunt somewhere else? You scared?" Frogpaw couldn't have made her teasing, mocking tone any more obvious than if she'd yelled it into his ears. It was true that Frogpaw probably should've been showing him a bit more respect, but she had always viewed Ratfur and the rest of Blackwolf's crew as older youngsters, despite the 20 moon age-gap, she didn't feel it necessary to bow her head and show deferrence to them like she would a warrior who was say, 30-something instead. He probably won't leave though. He's too afraid of Blackwolf to just ditch him, I'll bet. The she-cat's tail thumped with impatience. Well? "C'mon Ratfur, it's not like he'll even care." With heavy emphasis on the word care, Frogpaw tried once more to coax the chocolate brown warrior to shatter his shackles just for a few minutes and run away before the warden with the mismatched eyes eventually caught up with them. Though paling around with Ratfur wasn't at the top of her to-do list, seeing the tom do something different or out of character for once would certainly brighten up this otherwise gloomy little happenstance meeting between two cats who didn't know each other very well. [/style][STYLE=width: 400px; text-align: center; font-size: 9px; color: #565656; text-transform: uppercase; margin-top: 0px; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 3px; opacity: 0.9;]made by kiwii at btn & ote![/style] |
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Oct 26, 2012 5:52:29 GMT -5
[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: -- notes: -- credits: [style=font-size: 8px;]Cat from here Be Prepared - Lion King |
[/div][/style][/color][/td][td] An angular face dipped slightly in response to her question, quietly acknowledging her point. No, he did not particularly enjoy hunting out here; he did not particularly enjoy hunting at all, though he thought he could understand why others seemed so taken by the duty. There was almost nothing sweeter than the taste of power that belonged to him whenever he caught something. It was up to him to decide the fate of the prey, as it had been up to him to decide the fate of the frog that now lay at his paws. He could decide whether or not his catches would survive to fight another day, and he loved that power. The fear that widened the eyes and caused the small bodies to tremble was delicious. Finally, he was recognized as superior.
But Frogpaw had continued, and Ratfur noted with some disdain that she did not sound particularly apologetic about the collision. If she was not truly sorry, why waste her breath with a pathetic lie that was so easy to read? It was as if the words had come out of her mouth due to obligation rather than a genuine feeling of remose. He had not expected any, but was he not even worth the effort of trying to sound sorry? If he had crashed into Blackwolf, he'd practically be grovelling at his paws. It was disgusting, but the older tom fell for it. No doubt Frogpaw would have given the large warrior a more genuine apology, as he was considerably more intimidating with his bulk than Ratfur was with his thin, wiry frame. Or perhaps she simply did not understand the shifts of power that occured between cats, the natural hierarchy that persisted through whatever ranks the clans tried to place them in.
Her next words supported this latter theory, spoken as they were in such a rude tone. For better or for worse, she obviously did not recognized the fact that he was thought useless; it was only his place in Blackwolf's group that kept him from being a complete social outcast, just short of being abandoned and left to die in the forest. Even the large ebony tom himself only seemed to tolerate him; none of his more skilled companions gave the impression that they actually enjoyed his company. Blackwolf held all the power, whether or not he realized it, and Ratfur made it his job to stay close to the older warrior and keep his position by playing the loyal, obediant, mindless follower. Slight disdain laced his words as he spoke, lip curling, "Intimidated is more accurate. I know my place, especially in relation to his." However, he was not totally averse to leaving the muddy terrain, in fact wanting nothing more than return to the warm, dry warrior's den, and had he less self-control over himself, he would have agreed in an instant with the apprentice. But he had to stop and consider... What would Ratfur do? And how would he explain his actions later on, should Blackwolf come back to hunt him down?
In that mindset, his first impulse was to play the follower, to turn down the apprentice and continue trying to track down his wayward companion. Ratfur rarely did things on his own, after all; he rarely took the initiative. But rarely did not equate to never. He could very easily weave a little story about deciding to go hunting with Frogpaw with the hope that it would better the other warrior's success, especially if he said the rights words now. He could remind the older tom that he, too, had a mind that occasionally thought on its own. In any case, it had been a long while since the warrior had indulged himself a little, allowing himself to act on one of his own wishes instead of obeying Blackwolf's. "I think, perhaps, that you may have a point," He started slowly, sounding thoughtful. Add a little disappointment. "Blackwolf will probably be more successful if I don't interrupt him while he's trying to hunt..." Eyes lit up. "What if I brought back something impressive, like a bird... maybe an owl? You could help, too. You're a good hunter, aren't you?" Yeah, right.
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Post by Fawn on Oct 26, 2012 21:15:00 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable] | [atrb=style, background-color: #1A1A1A; border-radius: 35px;][STYLE=height: 250px; width: 460px; margin-top: 6px; opacity: 0.7; border-radius: 30px; background-image: url(http://i90.photobucket.com/albums/k258/nuttybuddy5/Warriors/Frogpaw-Header.jpg);][/style][STYLE=font-family: times new roman; font-style: italic; font-size: 45px; color: #E7E1CD; text-transform: lowercase; margin-top: -30px; letter-spacing: -3px; opacity: 0.99; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px #000000;] YOU ONLY GOT ONE LIFE TO LEAD[/style][STYLE=font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; margin-top: -10px; color: #CEC6AA; letter-spacing: 2px; text-transform: uppercase;]SO DON'T TAKE FOR GRANTED THE LITTLE THINGS[/style] [STYLE=font-size: 11px; font-family: arial; margin-right: 13px; margin-left: 13px; text-align: justify; background-color: #99FF99; padding: 13px; color: #000000; margin-top: 6px; opacity: 0.95; margin-bottom: 1px; border-bottom-right-radius: 30px; border-bottom-left-radius: 30px;] He thinks he can catch himself an owl? With my help? Why didn't isn't his warrior name him mousebrain instead of Ratfur? Despite her disbelief at his statement, Frogpaw kept her expression even, a strange mischevious light entering the she-cat's eyes as though a fire had been lit. Catching owls is very hard, I've only ever seen Blackwolf catch one - but if we really DID pull it off... Boneshadow would recognize my talent, and Ratfur would...well, he wouldn't be AS good as Blackwolf, but it would level the playing field between them."Good idea!"Purred the apprentice, flashing a grin that showed her pearly white teeth. "If we catch an owl, they'll compose songs about us - what do you say we set off before Blackheart decides he likes our company?" Throwing a roguish wink and an eye-roll in the direction Blackwolf most likely was, the she-cat turned on her heels, scooping up her bird and trotting in the direction of the Black Woods. Where there were trees, Frogpaw assured herself confidently, there were owls. "You'll never guess what that nettlebrain Gorsepaw said in the apprentices' den the other day," mewed Frogpaw with an air of cynicism, as if she found the apprentice of whom she was talking about to be very low on the totem pole of intelligence. "You know how you can find an owl by finding the pellets on the ground? Gorsepaw thinks the owl picks out all the meat off a mouse or something, and then scrunches it up into a pellet." The pretty marbled she-cat slowed her pace so that she was step-for-step with the older warrior, thoughts of Blackwolf having long since faded from her mind. Frogpaw's eyes glittered with humor. "What a mousebrain, we all know pellets are the same as owl-droppings." That was completely incorrect, considering owls regurgitated what they couldn't couldn't digest, thus the pellets, but Frogpaw wanted to test if her traveling companion was really listening or not. If he would catch the obvious fake sureness in her voice. Surely Ratfur was smart enough to grasp even something as simple as that. OOC: Owl-Catching 101 with Frogpaw! [/style][STYLE=width: 400px; text-align: center; font-size: 9px; color: #565656; text-transform: uppercase; margin-top: 0px; font-family: arial; letter-spacing: 3px; opacity: 0.9;]made by kiwii at btn & ote![/style] |
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Oct 29, 2012 12:17:42 GMT -5
[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: 613 notes: -- credits: [style=font-size: 8px;]Cat from here Be Prepared - Lion King |
[/div][/style][/color][/td][td] She ate it up with the eagerness of a kit finishing off his first taste of mouse, and grinned as though she had just bitten into the tender little body as well. Surely she did not really believe that they could catch an owl, and Ratfur found himself watching her body language for signs of disbelief as he began to follow her toward the Black Woods. In the end, he was the one who found himself incredulous, unable to believe how gullible the young she-cat was. Were they all this easy to trick? And did she even stop to consider how unrealistic catching an owl would be? They were more common in TreeClan's territory, where mice were the delicacy, and even if they were lucky enough to find one, catching it would be a whole different matter. Ratfur wanted to get the mud scraped off of his pelt, but not by owl talons aiming for his face.
Careful to hide his skepticism from the apprentice, he merely padded along silently beside her, half listening to her ramblings about her denmate. From a young age, he had learned how to divide his attention between a conversation or a companion and his other thoughts, always trying to remain a step ahead of the game. As he grew older, this had become easier, and now he had mastered it. Nodding at the right times to Frogpaw's babbling, he wondered what this Gorsepaw had done to deserve his denmate's distate. He could barely picture said apprentice, and could not bring himself to feel too bad for him. If Frogpaw stayed away from cats whom she did not like, then perhaps it was worth it. The young she-cat talked as though she would die the next day and had to get out everything she wanted to say before that. Dryly, he found himself wondering if she remembered to breathe before sentences. Or if she would every say anything of any importance.
A mousebrain indeed, He thought, his disgust slowly fading as he cast the apprentice beside him a look. Something told him that he and Frogpaw were thinking about different cats. If the false confidence she had projected into her voice was not as obvious, he would have been truly worried. Being a master liar himself, he knew the tricks of the trade, and could identify them just as well as he could pull them off. More often than not, he had to act oblivious to such an obvious lie, but this time, he would be able to call Frogpaw out on the incorrect fact. Of course, he could not let her know that he knew that it was intentional. Still, he had to give Ratfur some credit. Even if the he could not hunt, that did not mean that he was completely incapable of anything, particularly thinking. He had become a warrior, after all, and knew the general info on every piece of prey. "As it turns out," Ratfur started silkily, tail curling behind him in the air as he walked, "You are the misinformed one in this situation. Owls regurgitate what they cannot eat, and they form their pellets with those parts, which are usually bones and fur." He would know that too; the tom had spent an extra moon as an apprentice, attempting to better his skills before they finally acknowledged that he was a hopeless case.
As he waited for a reaction, Ratfur found himself wondering how she would respond. He learned that the way a cat reacted to criticism could say a lot about their character. [/td][/tr][tr][td][CS=2] and seen for the wonder i am. [/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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