[Open] A Little Help, Perhaps? Jun 12, 2013 22:03:41 GMT -5
Post by Bloodrose on Jun 12, 2013 22:03:41 GMT -5
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?