Lost? {open}

[swift]

ooc// Gah. Preambles suck.


Tonight was a good night. Tigerpaw could feel it on the wind. His paws itched to tear across the grass, to lift off from the ground until he was practically flying. Adrenaline was already pumping in his veins, battling against the chill that seeped through the cold night air and into his fur. The wind’s icy whispers threatened to freeze up his breath. He coughed, anxious of the lacing of frost that adorned his lungs, yet excited by the prospect of what he might find out here in the wilderness.

His eyes went wide, not in surprise, but to draw in the light. He had walked into a dark clearing. The trees around him bowed and swayed with the wind, their long, gnarled branches twisting together to form an elaborate canopy overhead. The moon’s silver rays could not finger their way through the blanket of leaves, leaving him in utter black.

“Hello?” he shouted out. “Is anyone there?”

How convenient it would be if fate had wrung out a path for yet another cat to get lost in these dark woods. Perhaps he would not be left to fend off the night by himself.

[/blockquote][/justify]

[thistle.]

Elmpaw was wandering.

Sure, he wasn't allowed to, but Willowpaw hadn't followed the rules and her adventure had ended in being attacked by rats and saved by some loner. She was the center of attention, especially in the apprentices' den. The tabby tom wanted that spotlight. Not the fame itself, though; he wanted the fun and excitement that came before. Some drama would definitely add some spice into his boring life. Apprentice duties didn't seem as enjoyable as he imagined they'd be when he was a kit. Quite the opposite, in fact. That was another reason he was out exploring on this night; he was skipping his regular evening task of checking the elders for ticks. Someone else could do it instead. He had worked hard enough that day!

Anyway, he was having fun. He had managed to catch a little mouse, using his keen eyes to find it. Even as an owl gave a deep hoot from somewhere above, he didn't feel scared. PineClan territory didn't, after all, go on forever, and if he met a dead end (aka the borders) he would just turn around and pad back to camp.

But he didn't feel like heading back.
As said before, he was enjoying himself.

"Jus' wai' 'il Willowpaw 'inds out," he mewed to himself, his accented voice harder to understand due to the furry bundle in his mouth. "'e'll be soo 'ealou'." He was so busy thinking about how the others would react when they saw him coming back, loaded with prey and stories, that the sudden shout made him jump. Dropping his mouse, he called back, "Hello? Are ya a PineClanner? I hope so, 'cause if you're not, I'm gonna have to attack you." His tone was teasing as he looked around, trying to spot the speaker. "Anybody there?" He picked up his fresh-kill and padded toward the source of the noise, which seemed to be coming from a clearing surrounded by thick trees. "Tigerpaw! What're you doin' out here?" Elmpaw stared at his fellow clan mate with a surprised, but still friendly, expression.

[swift]

He watched in complete astonishment as a familiar face emerged from behind a screen of bushes.

“Tigerpaw! What’re you doin’ out here?”

“Elmpaw!” he exclaimed, pleasure fast overtaking his previous surprise. “Boy, am I glad to see you. I thought I was going to keep wandering around in these woods until a bear picked me up, or I starved to death.”

The agitation still showed in his eyes, and it seemed that he really had been thinking of the method to which he would meet his demise. Every sound that emanated from the surrounding woodland sent his spine crawling. The scuffle of feet, the crunching of leaves, the snapping of twigs, was proceeded by a strained silence on Tigerpaw’s part as he whipped his head towards the general direction from which it first came, lifted his nose to the air (and at times when the noise was close, went so far as to open his jaws and inhale deeply), unsheathed his claws to grip the earth as if he was afraid that some malevolent spirit or sinister beast would surge out from between the trees and pluck him off his feet; and eventually he would drop his head to hold Elmpaw’s gaze for a moment before letting his eyes dart back into the darkness beyond.

Tigerpaw did feel that he was on edge, so the motions that he went through with such painstaking tenacity were not just mechanical reflexes; but something about the setting was sending huge, flaming red warning signs to his brain. They set his brain on fire.

And then relief came as quickly as the discomfort had in the form of a cluster of peculiar voices. They chorused out from within the confines of the darkness, trapped by the heat.

“Be careful,” ordered logic.

“You’re being watched,” whispered superstition.

"That's just your imagination," soothed reason.

"What was that?" shrilled curiosity.

"Stay still," piped intuition.

“Run!” screamed his senses.

“Not yet,” said common sense.

“Shut up,” grumbled Tigerpaw.

And then all went quiet again as superstition was smashed flat. Acceding to the paranoia that his own head was no longer occupied by just himself, he reached out with his mind (since there was no physical form to touch). He felt the voices as entities separate from his own, yet fettered to him, each like a burning torch in the darkness clasped by a hand. It was a disturbing realization. Was he perhaps insane? Was he so shaken as to believe that the voices that now took residence in his head--voices that had swept in without so much as a hearsay or an introduction? He withdrew from the flares of consciousness, their light dancing off his eyes, illuminating his face (or was that just the moon?). The sharp clarity of his senses dulled as calm washed over him.

This was not the time to panic. He wasn’t alone anymore. Elmpaw had come. He could see. The moon, having reached the zenith of its nightly journey, was peeking through the branches, shedding shafts of brilliant silver light between the lace of leaves. Everything was good. Had he not thought only a few heartbeats ago how it was a very fine night? Voices aside, he was a healthy, happy tom, and he was sure that he would stay that way... as long as the voices remained silent.

[/blockquote][/justify]

[thistle.]

Tigerpaw was obviously an apprentice just like Elmpaw, but since he was about a moon older than him, he should have more sense than that. "There're no bears 'round here, an' it'd be imposs'ble to starve 'cause there's prey everywhere, isn' there?"

The tabby laughed, than remembered the mouse lying by his feet. "By the way, I caught this mouse all by myself! Isn' that great? We can camp out here an' have some fun!" He paused, adding another sentence to his speech as he saw his fellow cat's scared expression. "An' don' worry 'bout nothin', 'cause I can protect ya if there's some bad cats 'round." Grinning, he carried his prey over to Tigerpaw and set it down in front of them. He was rather hungry, and maybe his friend was too. They could share his fresh-kill and take a well-deserved rest before heading back home. Oh, he could just imagine the looks of envy on his siblings' faces! Crowpaw probably would not care too much, but Willowpaw definitely would. Here was excitement without mortal danger!

He settled down onto the cool earth and gave a loud yawn, seeming perfectly at ease. "Well? Are ya hungry? Let's eat." The warrior code didn't even occur to him, probably because he had not been paying attention at that certain point. Loonstep could be boring at times; it wasn't really his fault. Gulping down a small mouthful of mouse, (the rodent was rather shrimpy) he looked expectantly up at Tigerpaw.

[swift]

“There're no bears 'round here-,” Tigerpaw let out an audible sigh, “-an' it'd be imposs'ble to starve 'cause there's prey everywhere, isn' there?”

“Right,” he said stiffly.

Elmpaw’s laugh was unnerving, especially as the woods had gone quiet, but not an unpleasant sound. Tigerpaw permitted himself to admire his newfound companion’s apparent fearlessness. There was a certain mischievous twinkle in his eyes that attracted his attention, and he couldn’t help asking himself: didn’t he see the danger?

"By the way, I caught this mouse all by myself! Isn' that great? We can camp out here an' have some fun!"

“Wonderful.”

It seemed that Elmpaw was getting rather excited, and the more excited he grew, the thicker his accent became. It was hard enough not to wince as his voice boomed across the clearing, but when it was thrown back as a wavering whisper by the trees, it felt like a centipede was crawling around under his skin.

"An' don' worry 'bout nothin', 'cause I can protect ya if there's some bad cats 'round."

Yeah, he thought with more than a drop of sarcasm, because you’re so much more intimidating than me. Every minute they wasted here was a minute that brought them closer to their deaths. Impending doom. The once refreshingly cool spring air was getting bone-chilling as the temperature dropped even further, and night descended upon them like a thin blanket.

"Well? Are ya hungry? Let's eat."

Tigerpaw took one look at the small brown morsel—curled in on itself with its tiny pink nose resting against the tip of its worm-like tail, as if it was simply caught in deep slumber and not dead. He coughed. It was caught from the forest, no doubt about it, and who was to say that its spirit wouldn’t haunt him forever once he dared to take a piece? Yet, he found his eyes sneaking back to the mouse. After a moment of silent debating, his groveling stomach eventually won out and he bit off a small chunk. But he mouthed it.

[/blockquote][/justify]