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Post by Crowzerplorodon on Aug 3, 2009 22:19:30 GMT -5
Nearly everything just wasn't enough for Jaggedclaw, though. His bony tail twitched in agitation as he glared down at his paws, willing the ache that plague him daily to fade into nothing. What he wouldn't give to have his claws once again be normal. He was still young! He could still hunt and train an apprentice! Fighting maybe not so much, his claws just didn't work like that anymore.
He'd never admit it though.
Long, white whiskers shook as his lip raised in a snarl, almost daring a cat to try and speak with him. He was in another one of his moods. Jaggedclaw hated to admit it, but he did get moody about his current position. And when he did it was not pleasant.
Suddenly his gray and white fur laid flat and his eyes softened. Across camp he could see Bluestream and Littlepaw leaving. While he hated being tended to by Medicine Cats, the cats themselves had earned a soft spot in his heart. He doubted he could ever get mad at them.
Sighing, he rolled onto his side, watching the outside 'wall' of the elder's den with blank eyes as he tried to think of something-- anything-- to do. |
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Post by Cloud of Diamonds on Aug 31, 2009 9:38:01 GMT -5
Ashstorm was just about to go hunting by herself when she noticed Jaggedclaw outside(?) the elders' den. He was rather grouchy, but then, most elders were grouchy. The gray-and-white tom looked somewhat angry, but also bored. Ashstorm didn't blame him. Who wanted to be in the elders' den instead of hunitng or protecting your Clan? Her sense of compassion overcame her desire to go hunting and she smoothly padded over to him. She dipped her sliver-gray head respectfully to the elder. "Greetings, Jaggedclaw. You seem to be in fine condition today."
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Post by Crowzerplorodon on Aug 31, 2009 13:40:09 GMT -5
He glanced up at the warrior, ears twitching in annoyance that the gray she-cat had even bothered to approach him. Maybe next time he should just get a sign or something that clearly said do not approach. Perhaps warriors would get the picture then and he could have some time to himself to rest and try to cancel out his bad mood. And what type of cat was this she-cat (Jaggedclaw would admit he didn’t know Ashstorm well) to suggest he was in good condition when he was so very clearly not?
”Ashstorm.” He gave the she-cat a grunt, his customary response when the cat wasn’t a fellow elder or a medicine cat. ”Don’t make me laugh,” he continued with a growl. ”Fine condition my tail bone.” His bony tail swished in the dirt angrily as he spoke, a bit of a warning sign. But it was a half-given one; Jaggedclaw wasn’t actually going to turn down company. Especially when the company came to him first. ”And don’t you have something warrior-ish to be doing, young cat?” [/blockquote] |
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Post by Cloud of Diamonds on Aug 31, 2009 14:39:10 GMT -5
Ashstorm was annoyed by the elder's grumpiness, even though she'd expected it. Still, he was right. He wasn't exactly jumping around in the sunshine. The fur on her spine lifted slightly then relaxed. Losing her temper over an elder's surliness wasn't worth it. He did seem lonely, so perhaps she should talk to him. "Perhaps you are right, Jaggedclaw. I was going to go hunting, but an oppertunity to talk to a distinguished elder such as yourself is always a good oppertunity for a young cat like myself." Ashstorm's eyes sparkled slightly. While she usually wasn't one for flattery, her sense of humour was kicking in. Maybe the old tom would lighten up a bit if she was lucky. She didn't mind being called "young cat" because she was: Twenty moons was hardly any age at all. She wrapped her thick-striped tail around her paws as she sat down next to the angsty tom.
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Post by baskerville on Aug 31, 2009 23:04:29 GMT -5
Spottedfoot was sunning himself.
He was tired after a sleepless night and a morning of hunting. He was resting his muscles in the sunshine. He opened a lazy, green eye to only freeze. Jaggedclaw seemed to be in a mood this morning, perhaps he'd claw that she-cat's ears off...
That'd be some early-morning entertainment, he mused to himself.
Spottedfoot propped himself up on his dark flanks. "Flattery is from the teeth out. Sincere appreciation is from the heart out," Spottedfoot said to Ashstorm quietly. He made his tone nonchalant, all the while licking a patch of fur on his chest. He did not look at her, he kept his licking rhythmic, and his ears pricked towards Jaggedclaw. If the elder didn't see through her wool-tongue then perhaps he couldn't see well at all.
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Post by Cloud of Diamonds on Sept 1, 2009 0:31:50 GMT -5
Ashstorm was severely tempted to give the arrogant, mouse-brained tom a good slash across the face.
Severely, but not quite.
Holding her breath and breathing out steadily, her mind was racing furiously. This stupid tom was trying to make her look bad, or so it seemed. The idiot, what did he know. Honestly, try to be compassionate and some moron will almost surely attempt to make it seem like you're some sort of suck-up or something. Her fur was standing almost on end before she made it lie flat. She didn't care if he thought she was rash; maybe it would make him go away. She hissed quietly, "Do you have nothing better to do with your time then lecture me with your words? They're almost as meaningless as you, so go do some menial task that better suits your talents, if you have any." She felt a savage pleasure as she berated Spottedfoot. She'd wound him with her tongue instead of her claws. This was most interesting, indeed.
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Post by baskerville on Sept 1, 2009 1:06:29 GMT -5
Spottedfoot took no injury from insult. He learned from writhing in angry ways, and he had the scars to prove them. He kept his claws sheathed.
"Now, now. No need to get touchy." He meowed, never stopping his licking. "My tone is not angry or accusing. So keep your claws in." Spottedfoot raised his gaze. "Getting angry over nothing is weakness."
With a flick of his whiskers he added "As for menial tasks, you should see that the fresh-kill pile bears my prey, not yours." He twitched his tail, amused.
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Post by Cloud of Diamonds on Sept 1, 2009 1:16:38 GMT -5
Ashstorm snorted. This tom really was the bottom of the food chain. Had he no brain at all? Perhaps not; his many scars showed he'd been punished many times, probably by his own doing. "Oh yes?" She drawled in dry tones. "How impressive that you've managed to gather more for the fresh-kill pile in an entire morning than I have when I haven't even gone out." The gray she-cat's whiskers twitched in satisfaction. She'd love to hear his answer to that. And whatever he said, she'd have a reply.
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Post by Crowzerplorodon on Sept 1, 2009 1:22:34 GMT -5
His pale eyes sparkled in morose humor as his mind contradicted himself over and over. Long lost ego reached vainly at the compliment Ashstorm had given him, trying so hard to let it reach the center of anything big-headed thoughts Jaggedclaw retained. However, his sensible side merely scoffed and frowned, quickly overpowering the egotistical side that had briefly emerged. ”You want distinguished? Go find No-ears.”
Glancing between the two warriors, Jaggedclaw decided that one of the few perks of being an elder meant he would not have to be lumped together with warriors. Such fool hardy, headstrong, bumbling idiots they were. Wasting time mocking fellow clan mates when they could be working together to aid the clan. Perhaps in age they would lose their big-headedness and realize that mocking each other and making snappy come backs was just a poor defense mechanism.
It amused the elder how something that kits and apprentices regarded as affection (the young cats were always going on about how if someone ‘tormented’ you they really liked you) would become something that sparked wars in ‘adult’ cats. How they could be considered adults even after the stupid things they do was beyond him. He hadn’t experienced it himself in a while now. ”Stop your bickerin’ and make nice, the both of you.”
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Post by baskerville on Sept 1, 2009 1:30:30 GMT -5
Spottedfoot shook his head at Ashstorm's words. 'So like a she-cat' he thought dryly.
Before he could open his mouth to speak, he heard Jaggedclaw. He retracted his silver-tongue.
”Stop your bickerin’ and make nice, the both of you.” The elder was right, what was the point in arguing? His words were just going to get twisted in the she-cats rage anyway. Resisting the urge to mutter darkly, Spottedfoot sat up straighter. "Sorry." He did not meet her gaze, he did not mean it. He had done nothing but point what he thought was obvious.
But if it would make the other two happy then, well where was the harm?
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We have a cbox again and we're opening the place up as a closed, members only rp