there i go, turn the page
|
Post by bones on Sept 17, 2023 10:07:00 GMT -6
#s://i~postimg~cc/LsfXFB3W/ant-POSTINGIMG~png | ant, No, I'd rather pretend I'm something other than these broken parts,
Pretend I'm something other than this mess than I am...
'Cuz then I don't have to look at it,
And no one gets to look at it...
[open to clanless or PC cats] |
they tell themselves, skulking low to the ground, and moonhigh; no one will bother coming out here right now.Their self-reassurance does very little to soothe the tense trembling through each muscle, paranoia making their ears quiver at each shift in the reeds. The clouds in the sky block out the stars and the moon, dousing everything in a blanket of darkness that should make her feel comfortable, but the nightly breeze rustles the foliage and the whispering namesake of the pond has her exceedingly on edge. Something darts across their path in the dark and their startle loudly, spooking some slumbering prey nearby; as the birds take flight, the runty red tabby realizes they’d missed two chances to catch something to eat as the field mouse vanishes without a trace. They curse under their breath, hammering heart dropping into their gut. So much for catching something to eat if they couldn’t sleep… The edge of the pond is iced over when they reach it and mist is already started to waft and curl into the air from it. Her tongue feels so very, very dry, but she’ll likely have to quench her thirst when she gets back to the barn, where the two-legs leave out barrels filled with rainwater – nonetheless, she reaches out a paw and presses down on the ice, shifting her weight onto the paw. It doesn’t give. Perhaps a heavier, stronger cat could get through, but Ant is neither of those things. Her stomach gurgles loudly and she licks her lips, considering cutting across the ice to the other side. Maybe she could catch something by surprise if she did so? Or you could plunge right thro—The reeds on the opposite side shift and twist, dancing in greater agigation than the simple breeze had them doing earlier. Her heart slams to a stop, shooting up into her throat. Oh shit, oh fuck, someone is here —She tries to scramble backwards into the cover of the reeds and dark, but forgets about her paw on the ice; it slips out from under her and she audibly cracks her jaw on the ground. Fueled by her panic though, she manages to roll out of sight in spite of the pain – once out of sight, the small cat goes utterly still, eyes smarting as she holds her breathe… And waits. |
|
|
|
Post by spotted on Sept 19, 2023 17:35:56 GMT -6
#s://i~ibb~co/0j53YZS/conniecatava2~png | Constantine, Vilified for deeds done in the light. Hiding away within plain sight. This cloak is keeping safe the face terrified of making one mistake. Just a husk seeking the world's false graces. |
In all rationality, it was dangerous for him to be this far away from the settled area of the barn - from the mostly friendly faces that lived there - the cats that called him a boon and treated him with value, despite his oddities. His vision was already limited, and now this evening, nature had conspired to disable him even further, but Constantine was unphased. Life was struggle, and this was no more than that. It helped that he had arrived here in daylight, searching for herbs to replenish his rationed stock. Namely horsetail. It wasn't quite an essential staple, but having some on hand and further establishing this as a place to find it was equally beneficial. As the moon rose and the mist blacked out the sky, he decided it was better to stay the night here than travel back to the barn in the near pitch black. He had used the dying light to find a hollow log in which he had built a small bed. It wasn't the warmest of shelters, but it kept the wind and weather at bay. All he was missing was a meal, increasingly hard to find as his field of vision narrowed, but again, he had managed. Through grit and determination, he had procured himself a bird. Fortunate, as a disturbance sent the rest of them to scatter. He was not the most agile and graceful hunter, but he was fairly confident that it was not solely him that had frightened the flock. Leaving his prey at his paws, he tasted the air. He was no longer the only cat here. The scent was vaguely familiar, they held the same primary scent as those who resided at the barn, but he did not know their name. 'Had someone gone looking for him? All this way? Surely not. Unless it was an emergency.'Deciding to investigate, he moved further through the reeds until he could peer through to the other side of the pond. The closer he got, the more of a ruckus he heard from beyond, a sickening crack making his ears pin against his skull in empathy. Bone.He hurried through the reeds, expecting to find an injured cat within view, but there was nothing. Trying, futilely, to find the surely injured party, with his one good eye, he tasted the air again, the fear-scent still present. It seemed they hadn't fled, but they were hiding. Did they see him as a threat?"I mean you no harm." He called out into the darkness. "...Are you hurt?...I am a healer." |
|
there i go, turn the page
|
Post by bones on Sept 24, 2023 16:33:48 GMT -6
#s://i~postimg~cc/LsfXFB3W/ant-POSTINGIMG~png tw: slight flashbacks & minor panic attack | ant, No, I'd rather pretend I'm something other than these broken parts,
Pretend I'm something other than this mess than I am...
'Cuz then I don't have to look at it,
And no one gets to look at it...
|
Her tongue burns and there is blood in her mouth. Her vision is dancing and she isn’t sure if that’s because she’s been holding her breathe too long or if she’s knocked herself silly. Her chin and teeth ache and the reeds are wavering— And Ant is trying desperately not to remember the last time she had blood in her mouth. Rolling over – the foliage rustles, but its hard to hear over her pounding pulse, drumming a crescendo in her ears – and she presses her paws to her face. Someone’s moving closer, closing in – have they found her? She murdered their kin and now some Mistclan cat has hunted her down and found her; the sun feels hot on her pelt— But she knows it’s not real, that it’s the middle of a moonless, wintry night and yet she has blood in her mouth when she swore never to hurt anyone else and, and— Her tail curls in close and she bites back tears. It’s cold, the ground is frozen and hard with water, the reeds are brushing against her fur and her paws are pushing into her face; the slight breeze is rustling things, her breathing is harsh and shallow and the stranger— The stranger sounds wrong. Blinking, she pries her front paws away and peers into the dark. Whoever is speaking sounds… worried? Something about a healer too... She sniffles, unable to scent much of anything now, and… The blood in her mouth is because she bit her own tongue; it’s hers. “He’e…” Her tongue throbs at the word and the runty red tabby slowly unfurls herself; she straightens a bit, breathing still haggard as she works to herself to her paws. Her jawline pulses with pain as she shuffles closer to the speaker - but its grounding, in a way - and, with obvious hesitation, peaks out of the reeds at the smoke tom. “...hi.” |
|
