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Post by tiddler on Mar 17, 2009 17:12:36 GMT -5
Nixa trailed her paws along the ground, head hung, eyes closed. She'd been wondering around for moons without ever meeting one cat she could call friend, or even half-way decent. Only the odd rogue looking to pick a fight, or kitty-pet too soft to even talk to. She was sick and tired of her own existance. NightClan was put behind her, but she could never forget the face of the silver tabby Bluefen. Not in a million moons. It was the one ghost that continued to haunt her, and it burrowed deep into her mind, screaming thoughts of regret and pain. The bond had been broken, and Nixa had no more bridges left to burn from her old life. Nothing. She sat down quietly, turning only to lick a few leaves off of her dusty brown pelt. She finally opened her pale green eyes, staring off into the distace, letting the cold sun bear down on her. A chill wind ruffled her fur, and bit deep into her very bones. She looked down at her ragged, skinny appearance, and as her stomach grumbled resigned herself to the idea of a hunt. Her ribcage was so gaunt she could count each rib. She needed to feed. Even if part of her resented it.
Sniffing the air, she caught the scent of vole, and dropped quickly into a hunters crouch, whiskers atwitch, tail lashing gently. There was no excitment in her eyes, nor in her movement, but a weird kind of determination flittered briefly across her expression. She could see the small rodent now, plump and simply sitting there, cleaning it's face. She suddenly felt a pang of sorrow for the poor beast, which had no idea that it's life was about to end. As if sensing her hestitation, it twitched into movement. But it wasn't fast enough. One bite, and it was all over. Nixa had caught her prey, but as if guilty, quickly wiped off the blood from her claws.
She crouched down to eat her prize, leaving nothing but bone and a few unedible entrails, which she quickly burried and payed respects to. Perhaps she was slightly odd for giving a prey creature so much respect, but she was a cat who believed life should only be taken to preserve that of others. Belly full, all she could do was sit, and think. She remained there, crouched on the ground, tail curled around her paws, for sometime, the only movement made the rise and fall of her breathing, and the twitch of her ear to show that she was awake, and alert. She barely blinked.
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Post by Slug on Mar 17, 2009 17:41:07 GMT -5
A shadow darted from between the tree's, watching the she-cat as she fed; then it became slightly startled when the brown she-cat buried the eaten vole's remains-- twisting to a hault behind a tree, peering out from behind the oak to study this she-cat-- honorable-- more.
"A she-cat-- and at the fallen tree's at the this time of day?" Smokestripe whispered, his silver and black pelt ruffling slightly in the soft breeze. "I wonder what she's doing here..." He murmured softly. "It must be because the Circle allowed it to be!" Came the ferious mutter; almost monotone.
"You there-- she-cat! What are you doing here?" He called, hiding behind the oak tree; pressing himself against it as he waited for a responce.
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Post by tiddler on Mar 17, 2009 17:49:21 GMT -5
Ears pricked as she thought she could hear something approach, the she-cat lifted herself off the ground and sniffed the air. She could detect a tom, but her shoulders sagged, as if the prospect of meeting another cat simply tired her more. He would just be like any other loner she met. Even without meaning to her, his existance meant more, and that burned inside her, a truth within itself to her, and likely to him, if not others themselves. Perspective alters reality in that sense. When she could clearly hear his approach, she turned to face him, raising herself off the ground further. Her ears flattened at his voice, and she spoke in equal tones, a raspy but gentle voice,
"What's it to you?"
[blaah, even worse D:]
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Post by Slug on Mar 17, 2009 17:53:34 GMT -5
"Just curious, little she-cat." Smokestripe stepped out from behind the oak tree and he gave her a charming purr. "Smokestripe-- Warrior of Pineclan." He gave another, comforting purr; steping closer to Nixa. "I was just curious as to why you are out here all alone, so I thought I could gain an answer from you-- but I was wrong. And rude. I apologise."
Sitting on his haunches, Smokestripe ran a paw over his ear; giving himself a quick, short bath. "And you are, m'lady?"
[Mine was worse. XD]
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Post by tiddler on Mar 17, 2009 17:59:29 GMT -5
"Little?" Came the snort of disbelief, for she was an impressively-sized queen, bulky and thick-muscled, as well as being older then him by a good twenty moons or so. But she did not take it as an insult, simply shook her head with amusement at his choice of words. At least he had humour. She relaxed a little as she realized he was the softer kind of loner, for she had been at first preparing to fight of a rogue with visions of this place being his territory. "I am a loner- I could ask much the same of you. What is PineClan?" And at his last words her fur suddenly bristled violently; Clan, to her, meant death and broken friendships. It was synonymous with destruction. But he seemed cordial enough, so she allowed her fur to flatten as she replied now suspiciously,
"Nixa... Well met, I would suppose."
She twisted her neck to lick her chest a few times in thought, wondering what was going on. She couldn't help feeling paranoid, and half-closed her pale green eyes to prevent her truth thoughts from leeking out. She was good at looking expressionless, and that was what she now preserved.
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Post by Slug on Mar 17, 2009 18:08:16 GMT -5
"Pineclan is a clan with no beliefs for Starclan; Starclan is a clan to us clanners that is our warrior ancestors. Or so the other clans say. We live in the pine forest-- just a bit farther from here, Nixa." He tilted his head in a innocent manner; towards the derection of Pineclan. "I am not a loner, though. I am mearly out... pondering on some things."
Smokestripe then shifted awkwardly from paw to paw, whiskers quivering with embarassment. "My camp is none to happy with me, though-- some of them, anyways. But that is a story to discuss later for another time, yes?" He bared his teeth in a silly grin; though the humor didn't quite seem to be all there. "I thought I would come to fallen trees for some peace and quiet-- though a nice, civil chat with a loner is not so bad, either; it's quite enjoyable, actually."
Smokestripe lifted his hind-leg and scratched feverishly at his ear; which twitched violently before finally ceasing. "May I ask to what you are doing here, Nixa; if you don't mind, of course."
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Post by snowstorm on Mar 17, 2009 18:19:59 GMT -5
A small she-cat about the age of six moons paced out of the bushes. Her cream and orange fur fluffed out as if she had just been in a fight. Her blue green eyes caught in a glare, a hatred for forest cats sparked inside.
"Well well, what do we have here?"
she mewed smiling. She looked ahead at the cats in front of her.
"A couple of clan cats I see"
The kittypet, Cloe, was usually afraid of clan cats, but since her recent encounter with them, she believed all were evil and hated each one of them to they're claw tips.
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Post by tiddler on Mar 17, 2009 18:22:01 GMT -5
[Snow, Nixa is a two-leg place loner, not a forest cat.]
"StarClan? What? I have no idea what you are on about, child." She honestly had never heard of StarClan before, but her eyes flittered towards the pine forests. So, cats did live here. And in clans too. "Well, we all need to dwell on things sometimes. It is a valid explanation for wondering out alone." She nodded to show she accepted his reason, and looked to the sky instead. It was cloudless, and blue, yet gave a sense of cold. The sun was pale and almost baleful, like it feared the seasons to come. She shuddered suddenly, as if the weather was a reflection of herself.
She purred in amusement at his shifty behavior, "Back in the day, a cat would have no whiskers to quiver if he irked the Clan. PineClan cannot be so bad then. Perhaps it is not what I know as Clan." Even though she could see his discomfort, she shook her head. Hah. Youngsters. Always thinking the world revolved around them. Then stopped when she realized how old she sounded, and scolded herself. "Hmph, and I thought I'd have peace and quiet out here. I was wrong, I suppose." But she didn't seem overly annoyed. He was plesant enough company.
"Hunting." She replied simply.
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Post by Slug on Mar 17, 2009 18:30:42 GMT -5
"True-- everyone needs to think sometimes. I cannot agree with you more, Nixa." Smokestripe nodded, then slowly he moved to her side; sitting down next to her and looking skyward; he tilted his head again in that oh-so-innocent manner, a care-free look sprouting across his face. "The sky is so blue today-- not a cloud in sight." He smiled, then; an odd expression on his face-- an expression he didn't use often.
"Hunting."
Smokestripe turned his head back right up and looked at Nixa, an odd, unreadable look on his muzzle. "I noted, Nixa," He nodded to the vole's grave. "You are very....honorable to do that, as idiotic as it sounds. Respect for your pray-- respect for you. Very admirable in my opinion, m'lady." He claimed, Smokestripe's accent peering back in for a moment.
"Yes. Very m'lady of you!" Smokestripe couldn't help but purr his humor; not a hint of sarcasm in his voice: just pure enjoyment.
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Post by tiddler on Mar 17, 2009 18:32:39 GMT -5
[should I wait for Snow?]
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We have a cbox again and we're opening the place up as a closed, members only rp