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Post by Deleted on Jun 13, 2014 0:22:03 GMT -5
Soft in color, Mallowleaf's eyes still managed to appear hard as they wandered stiffly over the willow branches that hung in abundance above her. It wasn't difficult to see that she wasn't doing well. Underneath her thinning, dirty fur, she was gaunt. A quiet, wheezing cough remained from the greencough she'd fought through leafbare.
Her mind was blurred and disoriented. StarClan only knew when she'd last eaten, but at the same time she didn't care. She hadn't returned to camp for several sunrises... to be honest, she'd lost track. Her mouth was dry, but she made no move towards the stream that ran beside her. She seemed to sway a bit before trudging forward, sighing shallowly before halting a few foxlengths ahead at the base of a willow. She lay down, eyes fluttering shut. She was so tired.
The she-cat's whole world was in a hazy darkness, in some way or another. She could see perfectly fine. That wasn't what it meant. No. It's like she could see in color, but she felt in black and white. Or something. It didn't matter.
Through leafbare her nerves had been frayed and she'd been tremendously on edge. She'd been among the first to become ill, and it was a twisted sort of fortune. The herbs she'd received early on had helped her heal in a way that her deceased clanmates could not. They'd died around her, and quite frankly she'd thought she would go with them. She wouldn't have minded. Instead, she squeezed through in to newleaf, a ragged mess.
Mallowleaf lay alone beneath the willow, alone in the forest with only the fading remnants of her illness bothering to stay with her. She'd been gone for days.
She wasn't surprised that no one had bothered to notice she was gone.
Character; Mallowleaf
Word count; 302
Notes; bb </3
Insidious |
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Post by Insidious on Jun 13, 2014 23:25:54 GMT -5
Razorfang Perhaps it had been nothing more than chance, but he had noticed her absence. He had been keeping a close eye on all of the greencough-infected felines of his clan; it had hit the clans harder than it had in previous moons, and although he suspected that many of them would die, it didn’t lessen his inability to accept defeat and watch as those around him suffered, so close and yet so out of reach. Mallowleaf was ill, this much he knew with certainty. The deputy was baffled that she had managed to get out of the camp undetected as she had - maybe he underestimated her stealth, and yet he could only think about the possibility that it’d be the last time he’d ever underestimate a living, breathing Mallowleaf. The two of them weren’t necessarily close by normal standards, but Razorfang still concerned himself with her more than he did with just any random cat. They were kind of friends. Sort of. He watched her back with a certain stiffness in his posture, and a coldness in his dead eyes.
It was why he had been searching for her for the past six days.
It was why he got away from camp as frequently as he could manage to see if she’d turn up and be alive.
It was why he always had an animal from the kill pile clutched delicately in his lethal jaw. Just in case she was hungry. Just in case she was on the verge of starvation. Just in case.
He refused to give up on her. Somewhere deep down he knew that she wasn’t dead; it was because Mallowleaf was a fighter. She wouldn’t give in, even if the world was on fire and flaming bits and pieces came crashing down around her. She’d get through it. He would find her, and he would help her get through it.
As if by some form of a miracle, he caught a faint, yet painfully familiar scent. Immediately his black form pursued the supposed direction, all of his senses on high alert as he scanned his surroundings with a thoughtful precision. When he saw her, crouched amongst the foliage, looking as though she may as well be upon her deathbed, he could think nothing but relieved thoughts. She was alive. Perhaps not well, but alive nonetheless. Despite the deputy’s worry and frustration towards her disappearance, his exterior revealed nothing other than an unforgiving detachment from the situation. He approached quietly, not making a single sound until he was able to properly loom over her body - he had a tendency to loom - and drop the feathered bird from his mouth directly in front of her own. He gave her a moment to catch up with reality, nothing but a blank and calculating emotion registered in his facial features as she scowled down upon her bent form. Hopefully she’d be able to understand how inappropriate her actions had been. She couldn’t just get up, strut out of camp, and not return for days on end. He hated to look at her as if she was some pitiful apprentice, but her actions - in his eyes - were inexcusable. “Eat.” It was more of a command than it was a question. “Perhaps you sought to be dead by the time someone found you, but frankly I will allow no such thing. I can only assume that you’re hungry; do not make me force that bird into your mouth.”
Sure, he was being a bit of a jerk. Wasn’t he always? Simply put, he had watched enough of the cats in his life slip away into a darkness from which they could never awaken. He refused to be a bystander any longer. If she had been dead, he would have failed to remain so utterly composed.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 14, 2014 0:05:25 GMT -5
She'd entered a slightly fever-dream-like state of partial consciousness fraught with frantic, unclear thoughts and a deep tiredness that ebbed at her mind, doing its pitiful best to pull her in to sleep. She didn't notice the rapidly approaching pawsteps at first, at least not entirely. Confused, and immediately on guard, she rose to her paws, albeit slower than she realized, and worked to focus her eyes on the dark shape before her. Mallowleaf recognized the tom before she could truly make him out, and swallowed coarsely.
Razorfang stood before her, as impassive as ever. He glowered down at her. I don't care what you think, she thought obstinately, but to be honest, she wasn't sure what she cared about. She knew that it didn't make any sense, but it didn't have to. Some piece of feathered prey that she didn't bother to identify fell before her, though she made no move to take it in to her jaws. "Eat," the deputy commanded. No, she retorted weakly, silently. As he continued, though, she felt a pang of something in the pit of her belly and clenched her jaw indelicately. "Don't make me force that bird in to your mouth."
She opened her maw to speak, but had to focus on the words before she could make them come out. It made for an unintentional silence she didn't care for. "Why do you care?" she croak-hissed, not sure why she sounded so angry.
Honestly, she was more relieved than anything to be in his company once more, though she was doing a poor job of showing it. Of all cats, there was no one who she'd rather have looming over her right now. She wasn't angry. Just... she didn't know what. Her face had gone slack, accidentally relaxing in to a somewhat desolate, hollow expression. Upon realizing this, she grew rigid once more, setting her jaw and doing her best to glower halfheartedly up at her fri-- at the deputy.
Character; Mallowleaf
Word count; 329
Notes; He gon' have to shove that bird in her face if he wants her to eat it. |
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Post by Insidious on Jun 14, 2014 10:30:17 GMT -5
Razorfang “Why do I care?” A heartbeat of silence. “Why do I care?”
His intimidatingly sharp teeth were gritting against each other, attempting to maintain his calmness in order to keep himself from unleashing a rather menacing fury upon this she-cat. He wasn’t oblivious to how hard it was for her to keep going with this charade of hostility; she was far too weak for it to be convincing. He would have dealt with it, had their situation been under any other circumstance, but frankly she was in no shape to be fooling around and asking useless questions as she was. Mallowleaf was in far worse condition than he originally thought if she had forgotten how incapable her deputy was of tolerance. “Shall I make a list for you: perhaps I care because it has been six days. Six whole damned days! Maybe because as a fellow RainClan cat, as your deputy, I care about you and each and every other cat in this clan. I have been searching endlessly, tirelessly, for you in the hopes that you hadn’t wound up someplace dead. You cannot just leave our camp without warning like that anymore.” Razorfang exhaled a long breath, shaken with the relief of getting all of those words out of his system. Nothing made him feel better than a good, powerful lecture. However, he was mildly aware of the possibility that his lecture could have . . . waited until a more suitable time. “Don’t make me have to forbid you from leaving the camp without an escort.” There it was! Some humour would surely counter his other comments. Surely.
He hadn’t forgotten that the she-cat hadn’t eaten yet. The deputy had already babied her beyond belief, beyond his own liking, but there was just one more time that he’d have to do it. “One . . .” He fixed with her a blank look, “two . . .” His gaze shifted between Mallowleaf and her meal, directing her attention to it with that silent gesture. “If I make it to three, and you know three is around the corner, than I am shoving that bird into your mouth as promised and it will not be pretty.”
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Post by Deleted on Jun 14, 2014 12:31:06 GMT -5
Why did he care? Mallowleaf watched the cat grit his teeth as he repeated her question disbelievingly. Six days? She hadn't realized. Oops. It caught her slightly off guard that he had been searching for her, and she shifted uncomfortably, face twitching out of its glower for a heartbeat. Oops.
"You had better not," she mumbled, her voice a barely audible growl, tail flicking back and forth, though she knew he wasn't serious. Razorfang wasn't the type to require an escort, for her or for anyone else. She might have snickered quietly under any other circumstances. But now she just did her best to meet his eyes with her own stubborn gaze. Her eyes kept falling out of focus, though, and she only caught little of his next words. However, she got the message. Lifting herself up, bony shoulders showing through matted fur, she bared her teeth halfheartedly and growled, "I dare you to try."
Character; Mallowleaf
Word count; 156
Notes; lululul |
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Post by Insidious on Jun 15, 2014 11:37:35 GMT -5
Razorfang Maybe he would’ve taken pity on this poor, sickly she-cat. Although she didn’t appear as though having the desire to eat, he could tell quite easily that she was hungry. Then again, who was he to enforce it upon her? Razorfang didn’t have a past of leniency, but his eyes grew softer until she dared him to try it. Dared. Dared him. Only a complete stranger wouldn’t know that he didn’t respond well to challenge. If it had been anyone else in front of him (save for the select few others that he didn’t completely mind) he surely would have sunk his sharp fangs into the scruff of their neck and pinned them to the ground until they begged for mercy. This course of action was expressed in the deputy’s face, through the ways his gray-green eyes hardened as they slithered up the length of her body, knowing how easy it’d be to overpower her and successfully accomplish this “dare”. Now, she had made it personal. Now, he couldn’t let it go.
Razorfang made a move for the bird, clutching it within the grasp of his powerful jaw and then lunging forward all in what seemed the same few seconds. The situation, itself, was quite laughable. The black, hazelnut-faced tom didn’t tolerate disobedience in matters of health. She needed to eat, and the sooner she realized that he was only trying to do what was best for her, the sooner this embarrassing display could be done with. From a bystander’s perspective, all they’d see would be the body of a large, intimidating tom-cat as he leaped with outstretched legs and attempted to encircle her body in the grasp of his weighty paws. She could hardly hold stubborn eye-contact without losing focus, so he was under the impression that she’d hardly be able to move fast enough to avoid him. If he trapped her beneath him, as he very well planned to do, then he’d proceed to shove the bird down her throat and make certain that she never dared him to do anything again.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 16, 2014 13:25:43 GMT -5
Mallowleaf couldn't quite think clearly, but she instantly regretted her dare as Razorfang seemed to grow in size, his eyes hardening. She knew better. She knew better. In what seemed like a heartbeat, he'd picked up the bird and leaping on top of her. Mouse dung! There was no way she could get out of his way, and only made a slight, lagged twitch as she found herself pinned under him. The tortoiseshell was a blur of righteous, somewhat-benevolent fury at her insolence as her maw was filled with prey. A gurgled cry of protest was muffled by the bird the deputy was stuffing in her face. She flailed slightly, paws sticking out from beneath the larger tom. She had no option now but to succumb to his efforts, but she still resisted further. The cream she-cat was behaving like a kit, and she knew it.
Finally, she gave in. StarClan, she was hungry. Pathetically gnawing at the prey in her mouth, she glowered up, albeit with a softness reserved for only her closest of, er, friends, at the black-and-brown warrior leering over her. "Fine," she mumbled around the feathers.
Character; Mallowleaf
Word count; 190
Notes; LUL |
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Post by Insidious on Jun 17, 2014 17:18:05 GMT -5
Razorfang As soon as he noticed that her legs were no longer flailing, and her jaw was no longer resisting the flesh of the bird, he allowed his bunched muscles to relax. He stood his ground for a moment longer than necessary, not actually removing his weight from on top of her until his ears detected the muffled sound of her voice between feathers. Satisfied, the deputy chuckled at the sickly she-cat’s expense before taking a seat nearby, watching her closely for any sudden or, rather, wobbly movements. He didn’t say much until he was certain that she’d eaten enough to be considered full, wanting to ensure that nothing distracted her from getting some much needed food into her system. “Why did you leave the camp for so long, anyway?” He grumbled the words through a tense jaw, suddenly unsure if he even wanted to stab at sharing their feelings.
Feelings were pathetic.
But, surely, something had Mallowleaf’s mood down. It was too unlikely that she just happened to watch time pass, mistaking days for minutes or hours. Although he was the last tomcat, likely in the whole universe, that was an expert on all things emotional and sentimental, he was sure that there was something he’d be able to offer her if she needed it. The deputy’s large paws shuffled in the damp, RainClan soil, ears perked in preparation to listen if she bothered herself with attempting a response. He had no way of knowing whether or not she was in the mood to talk about . . . things. Frankly, he had no idea what kinds of things could even be on her mind. For all he knew, he just walked himself into an hour’s worth of conversation about some tomcat back in camp that she was lovesick over. That was the last thing he wanted to do, but could he suffer through it for her? Looking up at the she-cat in question, he considered it. Probably not. Most definitely not!
Maybe.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 17, 2014 20:33:58 GMT -5
The tortoiseshell lorded over the cream she-cat for a few moments longer than he needed to. Rolling her eyes, she rolled on to her belly and crouched, dropping the prey so that she could better consume it. She ate in silence for a little while, feeling an alien relief at... she didn't know what, just now. Still a bit stiff, but feeling a little better, she was almost finished with the fresh-kill he'd delivered to her when he finally broke the silence.
Mallowleaf tensed. She knew Razorfang. It wasn't like him to inquire about this sort of thing. And it wasn't like her to share. She didn't answer at first, instead finishing off the bird carefully. Then she sat up, avoiding his steely gaze, focusing on her dirty paws. I don't know, she wanted to hiss. She didn't owe him anything! Except... she did.
"I wanted..." she began, mumbling. Trailing off, she sighed heavily, the matted fur on her shoulders rising and falling with her breath. "I didn't..." She stopped again. This was stupid.
"It doesn't matter," she mewed, frustration making her voice hoarse. The warrior rose to her paws, tensely scrabbling at the earth so that she could bury the remains of her meal.
Character; Mallowleaf
Word count; 206
Notes; ~ |
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Post by Insidious on Jun 21, 2014 13:13:28 GMT -5
Razorfang He couldn’t make Mallowleaf talk to him, but at the same time, he couldn’t stand the version of himself that would sooner stand by and watch her drown in her own suffering mind. He considered her thoughtfully, even while she refused to meet his eyes. She had been so close to telling him what was on her mind, to opening up, and he had been prepared to listen - but then she cut herself off. The deputy took a deep breath, puzzled as to why she found it so difficult to talk with him about what was on her mind. Perhaps he hadn’t been the nicest cat throughout all of his moons in RainClan. There had been a time where he probably would have scoffed at the tom currently standing in front of Mallowleaf; that tom had been among some of the most heartless he’d ever had the pleasure to know. To understand. It was always easier not caring. If you had nobody to watch out for, then you never had to worry about facing positions similar to the one he was in now. No, he couldn’t make her talk (he probably could, but that was besides the point). But he could be there, to listen, when she decided she needed him.
Razorfang pushed himself back up onto his paws, walking passed the she-cat and gesturing for her to follow him back to the camp. She had been away for far too long, and it was about time that he got back as well. “I won’t make you talk to me.” He was attempting to establish that he knew something was wrong with her. A small part of him, an unnoticeable part, was bothered that she didn’t want to tell him. It had been expressed on more occasions than he’d like how particularly unfeeling he could be. Although he’d perhaps never fully warm up to the idea of being able to settle down and properly communicate, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t capable of being there for those who needed him most. “But when and if you decide that talking to me is something that you want to do, you know where you can find me.” And with that, he continued upon his way, expectant that she’d be tagging along.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 22, 2014 0:00:33 GMT -5
Still not completely oriented, Mallowleaf didn't notice right away that Razorfang was speaking. The words registered slowly to her mind. She felt confused. Caught off guard. She slowly raised her eyes to his tortoiseshell form, her usually hardened exterior melted for those heartbeats. Almost sheepishly, her eyes fell back to the earth, littered with willow leaves. The she-cat let her eyes fall in and out of focus as he continued to speak. He cared about her. For the first time, she acknowledged to herself that she cared about him, too. She cared about him and she cared about what he thought and she cared if he cared. The cream cat wasn't able to process this, just yet, and didn't say anything. She sat still, her heartbeat in her ears, eyes on a small beetle near her deputy's paws. Great StarClan.
Mallowleaf rose as he turned and followed him, slightly dizzy.
Character; Mallowleaf
Word count; 150
Notes; I AM POSTING THIS FROM GUATEMALA |
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