storms make trees take deeper roots
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Post by cosmic on May 1, 2023 22:34:20 GMT -6
#s://64~media~tumblr~com/611c44e3df38762df4ea64d0f8101a42/37a1b358ceb821fc-2c/s2048x3072/6fe3c8b87f4fb674b8041ad28cbfaadcf1f45c74~jpg | bluebell goddamn right, you should be scared of me. |
The dawn broke through the glass window that still stood with the abandoned cabin. Bluebell was curled up on an old burlap sack, before his eyes fluttered open. The wind of the autumn leaves made Bluebell move his ears towards the outside. Before long, it would be his first leaf-bare. He slowly stood, stretching out his lean form. Licking his lips, he knew that food was a priority. Hopefully, he would catch something both him and his mom, Aster, could share. However, Bluebell had not received much training yet. Someone has to teach him, right? Or maybe he can teach himself... He made his way outside of the cabin, seeing the sun just starting to peak over the horizon. The birds called from the trees. Bluebell knew that the winged prey would not stick around much longer, as Momma said that they flew away during leaf-bare. Bluebell wondered why. Was this "leaf-bare" really that much to be feared? From what the others talked about, it sounded interesting. White fluffy stuff all over the ground, trying to find warmth wherever possible. It sounded like survival, something that Bluebell knew all his life. The tom walked around the outside of the cabin, trying to get a glimpse of the life that surrounded his home. Home was a strange word. While this is where Bluebell grew up, he wasn't sure if this was always going to be his home. Sure, he hoped so. The abandoned Twoleg cabin wasn't so bad. The tom had plenty of cats to pick on, a place to lay his head; but with all the talking about ending on the clans, he knew they wouldn't stay here forever... whether they were able to conquer or they ended up failing. Either way, Bluebell was going to do his part and join Foxglove's mission when he was old enough. Bluebell stalked along the grass, as he reached the edge of where the trees began to surround the cabin. He could heard the soft patter of a mouse in the distance. His blue-gray fur brushed along the blades of grass, sneaking closer to the source of the sound. Within a rather spacious distance from where he started, he spotted it. A little, brown mouse on a rock cleaning its fur. He hunkered down, focusing his eyes on the prey. He would get this mouse and prove to the other cats he wasn't some softy that only knew how to pick fights. However, he hesitated, leaping and landing on the rock with no mouse in his grasp. "Dammit!" he yowled, watching the mouse scurry back to his hole. A small growl escaped his teeth. Bluebell wasn't sure what he was expecting. Yes, he hadn't been trained in hunting extensively, but it should be in his predatory blood, right? The tom stood up on the rock, before resting his haunches. The tom had to make sure that he became better. Otherwise, the clan cats were better than him. And lord knows that can't happen. |
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Post by bee on May 6, 2023 21:05:55 GMT -6
#s://i~ibb~co/XSL9CB1/foxglove~jpg As the cold season approached, Foxglove found much of his time was spent helping the other cabin-residents prepare for the coming winter. Scouting prey dens, catching what they could, ensuring there was enough bedding, and gathering herbs. Foxglove by no means had even a quarter of the knowledge of some cats when it came to medicine, but common and easily identifiable herbs, such as goldenrod and poppy, were his usual quarry. The practical part of him wanted to explore his and Lionwing's old den, where he was sure the seeds of their old herb stash would have produced plenty of usable plants, but anytime he thought of heading that way, his paws led him elsewhere. Instead, he had focused on the outskirts of PrairieClan's territory today, the river's edge providing enough nutrients to keep lucky plants thriving despite the chill in the soil. With a mouth full of various herbs after a successful harvest, Foxglove started heading back towards the home he had made for himself and his companions. As he approached, he spotted the familiar shape of Bluebell, hunkered down in an imitation of a hunter's crouch. Foxglove almost continued to leave Bluebell to whatever game he was occupying himself with, but seeing no Aster or Bumble in sight, he paused to watch what the young tom was up to. Ah. A mouse. The scent finally reached his nose through the stench of herbs, and he carefully set the bundle down to observe. Bluebell's crouch wasn't terrible, but he was too heavy on his paws, not paying attention to what was underpaw or where the wind was blowing. When the pounce was finally performed, it was too hesitant, clumsy, heavy, and the mouse knew what was coming before Bluebell was halfway to it. Then the angry outburst, chasing all other possible prey within the immediate area. It was amusing, in a sad sort of way. "You'll be an excellent pebble hunter." Foxglove commented dryly from his spot after Bluebell calmed somewhat. "Your form isn't terrible, but...well." He trailed off, letting Bluebell's lack of success speak for itself. Shaking his head, he closed the distance between them. "Hasn't Aster been teaching you? Or Bumble? I know you know how to fight, but hunting is different." |
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storms make trees take deeper roots
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Post by cosmic on May 7, 2023 20:04:10 GMT -6
#s://64~media~tumblr~com/611c44e3df38762df4ea64d0f8101a42/37a1b358ceb821fc-2c/s2048x3072/6fe3c8b87f4fb674b8041ad28cbfaadcf1f45c74~jpg #s://64~media~tumblr~com/611c44e3df38762df4ea64d0f8101a42/37a1b358ceb821fc-2c/s2048x3072/6fe3c8b87f4fb674b8041ad28cbfaadcf1f45c74~jpg #s://64~media~tumblr~com/611c44e3df38762df4ea64d0f8101a42/37a1b358ceb821fc-2c/s2048x3072/6fe3c8b87f4fb674b8041ad28cbfaadcf1f45c74~jpg | bluebell goddamn right, you should be scared of me. |
The adolescent, somewhat secretly, had admired this tom since he could remember. An idol, of sorts. Foxglove was not a leader; Bluebell would never compare him to the clan cats. But this tom was a teacher to those that needed guidance, a gatherer to those in great need of help, and a commander to a higher idea of getting rid of the clan cats. After Bluebell learned the story of how Ridgeclan hurt his family, he believed in this cat's mission. And the small tom wanted to make sure that Foxglove knew he would fight for his mission.
"Yeah, I really messed that up," he acknowledged, a small hint of embarrassment caught at the end of the sentence. It was mostly embarrassment, however, to have Foxglove see his mistakes. The tom flicked his ear to ease tension, before scrapping his paw across the rock, as he replied to the tom's questions.
"Yeah, Momma has taught me some. I have caught some prey before. But she has been busy recently, sometimes she disappears for a bit from the cabin. Not too long though, but she'll bring me prey before I can even hunt it myself," he spoke, before twitching his tail. The adolescent wasn't sure why his mom had not been present sometimes throughout the moon. He assumed it was to scout or keep an eye on clan cats, but he would be upset if it was to hunt.
"And I mean... Bumble and I aren't that close," he mewed softly under his breath. While Bumble was the one that rescued his mom and himself before taking them to Ridgeclan, he hadn't had much interaction with the cat. They seemed distant at times, the opposite of how they were when he was a kit. "Plus, Bumble seems pretty close to Momma. Sometimes, they seem inseparable. Blugh." Bluebell didn't understand the idea of crushes or love, as he hadn't experienced that yet. However, anyone could tell that it looked like Bumble wanted to be closer to Aster. |
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