there i go, turn the page
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Post by bones on Nov 20, 2023 17:57:16 GMT -6
#s://i~postimg~cc/9X4KhTW6/yennifer-POSTINGimg~png #s://i~postimg~cc/9X4KhTW6/yennifer-POSTINGimg~png | yennifer, And I won't pretend My season won't end But I pray, when its over, when its through I'll have something left for you
[taken!] |
The night is, surprisingly, a bit warmer than the day that proceeded it; it's even more apparent, with the climbing mists wafting off the trees and the open grasses. The moon is a little under half-full, but instead of piercing the thickening mists, it bounces off, reflecting brightly and making it harder than normal to peer into the fog. So cats like Yennifer can hide even better than usual. They follow some rustling grass, bold white pelt blending in expertly with the fog and shadows as the tall loner moves on the edge of the treeline, mindful of the open plains just a tail-length away. Their mismatched eyes dart one way, then the other, as the grass starts to shift into two diverging paths. One heads for the forest foliage, the other scurries out into the brown field grass. They pause and scent the air... Shrews. The white cat drops down low, feinting to cut the forest-bound prey off - it squeaks, then darts off after the other; their paw comes down on top of it, crushing it in one swift movement. Their stomach rumbles lowly and softly as their jaws close around the small, furry creature- And then they hear pawsteps. In the dense, cold mist, it's hard to tell where the other cat is coming from. Their eyes dance as they slide lower and lower to the ground, until their belly is rubbing into the dirt and its impossible to go lower and still move, shifting back into the dead grasses to hide better - while they're hidden at the moment, if someone were to get too close, their bright pelt will stand out like a sore thumb. To far from the trees, the grass is too short to retreat properly.Perhaps they can wait whoever out? They smell more like herbs and the pines than an actual cat - a trick to avoid being tracked - so there is a chance... The grass crackles underfoot, closer and closer.
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storms make trees take deeper roots
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Post by cosmic on Dec 3, 2023 20:56:29 GMT -6
#s://i~imgur~com/hyijZjH~jpg The tom plopped onto the camp floor with a chirp, before looking back up at the branches that housed the warriors and weavers of the clan. Unfortunately, but fortunately, Mudbranch had been kicked out of the den once again for the numerous night in a row. He believed this was the fifth night, but he didn't try to keep count.
His insomnia had really been strong recently, which wasn't unusual for him. It would be a night of constant moving, yawning, and chirps if it wasn't for a warrior asking him to leave. Most cats, if asked that question, would have been offended. However, Mudbranch wasn't and knew that they didn't mean it in a mean way. He knew his sleeping habits could be a nuisance to his fellow clanmates, so getting up and being awake somewhere else made them happy. As long as they could make sure their clanmates were getting the sleep they needed.
Besides, the territory looked much cooler at night.
--
Mudbranch had made it to the territory border with PrairieClan, which was arguably his favorite place to be during his sleepless nights. There was a large stone that set near the PrairieClan terrtiory, in the plains that still resided on MistClan's side of the territory. At night, he loved to pounce onto of the rock and stargazing on his back. Unlike most clan cats, who looked to the stars to try to guess which star was which ancestor, he liked to make shapes out of them all. Maybe a rabbit, or a flower. He hoped that the ancestors liked his sense of humor.
As he began to walk along the grasses, however, a sharp screech filled the air. The tom jumped slightly, looking in the direction of the sound. When becoming a warrior before a weaver, he recognized the sound as a shrew... a shrew in distress. Suddenly, the sharp smell of blood washed over his senses, as he realized that it must have been attacked. Carefully, he looked toward the treeline as he started to trot over. Mudbranch couldn't help but wonder if it was a PrairieClan cat that maybe didn't realize they crossed the border. Or perhaps a loner that lost their way? Rogues were not as likely, as he hadn't heard of many coming this close into the MistClan territory.
The tom walked to the source of the sound, but he didn't see any remnants of what was left behind. Not even the scent of a cat was able to be found. It was likely that the cat had ran as soon as the shrew was caught, in order to make sure not to run into any others. However, it wouldn't stop Mudbranch from trying to find them. "Hey! Hello!?" He began to call. "I'm not gonna hurt you!"
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there i go, turn the page
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Post by bones on Jan 12, 2024 16:27:19 GMT -6
#s://i~postimg~cc/9X4KhTW6/yennifer-POSTINGimg~png yennifer, | | genderfluid (he/she/they)
clanless - loner |
The cat - a tom? - sounded close, almost on top of them. They flared their nostrils, picking up the scent of Mistclan past the smell of blood and shrew fur; their fur prickled and their claws flexed briefly - while many thought that mountain clan were the most hostile towards outsiders, the white loner knew that the cats in the forest were growing towards a similar state. Don't start anything, she forced herself to relax, you know nothing of how this may end; keep an open-mind...Moving with great care, the dead grass eager to break under the slightest inclination, they moved towards the voice. Gently laying their catch down - she'd rather it not be taken as retribution for hunting on clan lands - she licked her lips and slowly rose to her paws. She could come back for it later, hopefully - or snatch it up while fleeing. The clan cat, surprisingly, had his back to her; it gave her a moment to give him a quick once over. A colorpoint, dark and... familiar... But Cloudtongue is dead, her heart jumps into her throat as she jerks back, isn't he-- A frail twig crunched under their paw, announcing them. They cringed, torn between flight and fight for a brief moment, whether to run from what could possibly be him or to see if their mind's eye was playing tricks on them.
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storms make trees take deeper roots
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Post by cosmic on Feb 15, 2024 10:01:39 GMT -6
#s://i~imgur~com/hyijZjH~jpg To say that he was a little sad that there was no response would be an understatement. Did clans have such a bad reputation with the clanless that they dare not to speak? Or were PrairieClan cats too scared to admit they crossed the border from the recent Greenleaf? His teal eyes looked around with no avail to see if there was a cat darting away.
Perhaps he was too late, and the cat had already moved on.
For a moment, before stepping sideways to head back the way he came, he had a moment to think about what the rest of the night would entail. The night, overall, was pretty boring to be the only cat awake. Mudbranch hated how he couldn't sleep normally like other cats, and how his thoughts and twitches kept him aware. However, it gave him plenty of time to do things outside of his duties. He could bask under the stars, allowing the moonlight to shine on his cream fur. Sometimes, even, prey would be more active and allow for easier catches. Obviously, that shrew crying was an example of that.
But before he could turn all the way, he heard a snap from, now, beside him in the tall brown grass. Not quiet enough to be a prey animal, more similar to a... a cat.
For a second, he was probably more nervous than the other creature beyond the grass. But, as his mentor taught, it's important to have confidence in the territory lines, especially if facing an adversary. Until he was attacked, though, he felt he could be confident and nice.
Mudbranch slowly turned to face the noise and walked toward the noise very carefully. His feet moved in slow motion as to not startle whom ever was still here. "Hello? Is someone there?" he muttered, before looking through the grass blades. It was hard to see, but he did get an outline. Definitely another cat and was a lighter color. A small window through the vegetation revealed white fur. "You have pretty fur..." he broke the silence. "I'm Mudbranch. I'm not going to attack unless you do, I promise." The tom then lifted a paw slowly to reveal that his claws were not drawn.
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