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Post by blossom on May 13, 2016 9:30:45 GMT 8
At the center of the clearing, near the roots of the trees other cats referred to as the Moontrees, a pretty torbie sat, a look of satisfaction and pride written across her face as she stared down at her catch. A rabbit, fattening with the abundant foliage of new-leaf. She purred to herself, she was getting better at this. Now that the frost and snow had passed she no longer struggled for each meal, and found that other cats were less prone to attempt to steal it. That having been said, she didn't fear fights like she might have once. She adored watching others bleed and felt exhilarated by the feeling of rending flesh with her claws. While she was not the type to pick fights she couldn't win, she would defend her catch, especially so close to the abandoned foxhole where she had made her home as of late. She had watched Clan cats who smelled of bitter herbs that had grown in her twoleg's garden. They had climbed into the branches and slept, though she hadn't yet figured out why. She considered starting her revenge here, by removing the strange herb-cats, but they were larger than her and outnumbered her. Perhaps eventually, but for now, she would eat her meal and climb into the branches herself to see what was so special about the strange place.
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End up dreaming instead of sleeping.
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Post by Leopard on May 18, 2016 10:53:10 GMT 8
A she-cats voice, soft and whispery cut cleanly through the night. “Hello kitten.”
Myth slowly but surely moved out into the clearing. Her once sleek pelt hung loose and ragged where winter had taken its due in flesh and muscle tone. Old faded scars cut through the silvery pelt which was now dulled by sickness and age. There was something odd about the way she moved graceful yes but oddly jarring; as if she was putting on a show which she was. Even Cade and Eira, off hunting a little way away sensed it. Cade had doubled his loyalty bringing her more prey than she could eat as if a few extra mice might undo moons of sickness wasting her away. And Eira… for the second time in her life Myth was scared of one of her children, it wasn’t a good feeling.
Before her the torbie stood hunched over the rabbit. It was a fine kill, fresh and juicy looking but she wasn’t there for the rabbit. In fact she wasn’t quite sure why she was there. Showing herself like this was dangerous, the cat before her was young, scrawny and likely inexperience but she wasn’t eighty moons old and wasted away. This kind of game was once her lifeblood in the first moons arriving in this place; now it was only nostalgia, a desire to test her old tricks that had her moving. There would be no eking out a name here.
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Post by blossom on May 18, 2016 12:17:36 GMT 8
Morigan was snapped out of her meal and plotting by a soft voice from the darkness, 'hello kitten.' The scrawny torbie hissed defensively as an elderly cat stepped into the clearing. The raggedness of her pelt made it clear that this cat had been wild for some time. To survive to such an age suggested one of a few options: She was strong and clever, she was not alone, or perhaps most dangerously, both. Arching her spine Morigan placed a paw in front of her prey, hoping that if she stood her ground the cat would simply back down. "What do you want?" She hissed in the most threatening form she could muster, though her tiny frame likely did little to bolster her words. The young cat had faced enough in her few moons alone to know that other cats were dangerous. They lied and manipulated. They would hurt you if you got in their way. Better to threaten the fight herself, at least until she knew where her opponents true weaknesses lie.
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