[ interrupting starfish ! ] PRIVATE

[Slug]

Elmfang had picked the time carefully. He made sure that he woke up early. So early in fact that it wasn't even morning yet, but there were traces of pink in the sky. The sun was soon to rise and so he took a swift leave from StreamClan camp. He would probably make it to the ranch before the sun was high and all the stars winked away.

It was easier this way. Nobody would question him, seeing as most warriors got up early to hunt. That and the patrol wasn't even up yet, so he wouldn't have to worry when he crossed over the border. He'd have to take caution when he was coming back, though. The afternoon patrol was still something to worry about, but Elmfang would take the risk.

Stripes was worth the trouble and more, but he would never admit it out loud. He was far too prideful for that and thankfully Stripes wasn't the type to ask for reassurance. They trusted each other enough to know. That and they knew each other like the bottoms of their own paw pads. From all the times they spent with the other, no matter how short it was, they learned and recognized the signs.

It was kind of frightening, to say the least.

Elmfang took off in a trot once the ranch came into sight, nearly tripping over himself when he reached it's looming structure. It was large, but not overly so. Built with white, rotting wood and filled with mice, it wasn't a wonder why so many others lived there. Then again, with Stripes hanging around now, he wouldn't be surprised if they had all left.

"Stripes?" he called as squeezed through a hole in the boards, holding back a wince when the wood scratched at his soft underbelly. He'd hate to see what would happen to a cat if they landed wrong on one of these...

"You better be here, rat..."

[Pyro]

Alright, so. The last visit to the train tracks hadn't gone so well. Escorting a nearly traumatized she-cat back to camp wasn't among the top ten on his 'things I'd like to do' list, but it wasn't as if he could have just left Tallflower there. He was raised better than that. He was not; however, raised better than sneaking off again. It was early enough that he wouldn't be missed, and this time he was careful to make sure he wasn't followed by any...unwanted company. Raccoontail preferred to be alone when in the 'company' of the tracks, for practical reasons, really.

As the ranch neared he began to smell the many mice that lived there, even this late into leafbare. A snack wouldn't hurt, would it? "Just so long as I remember to bring something back for the clan." He wasn't sure that that was what the so-called 'warrior code' said, but he had become far too used to a life of helping himself first and others when he felt like it, especially in leafbare. Raccoontail had a noble streak every once in a while, but he marveled at how the clans kept it up with the scarcity.

His form, which had grown skinnier since his time with StreamClan (fishing didn't exactly help them in leafbare), slipped almost too easily through the decrepit fence. The tom wasn't surprised to smell the scent of another cat. The ranch was probably popular with the loners. He knew that he'd definitely take advantage of shelter and a ready food supply. He was surprised though, to smell that the scent was fresh. That meant the cat was still here, perhaps not just passing through.

Well crap. His fighting skills weren't exactly up to par with how they were when he was with the gang. In all honesty they were rustier than an unused train track. It was his own fault though. When he left the gang with Abigail he left near everything that was a part of it...including, unfortunately, Abigail. Their break with the gang wasn't clean, but damn if fate didn't make sure it became 'clean', at least for him.

He did not. Want to get. In a fight.

At all.

Really because he couldn't win, and he knew he couldn't win. And to make matters worse, the scent was mixed with something else. The cat smelled like it was from one of the clans. He fought the urge to just turn back. He didn't think he was on another's clan's territory...but if he was his goose was cooked. There weren't many lessons StreamClan taught him that stuck, but 'do not trespass on another clan's land' was one of them.

'Well, if I have to be caught, it won't be while I'm sneaking around.' He picked up the pace until the cat was in sight. It, that is to say, he looked like he was searching for something.

"Howdy, sir. You lookin' for anything in particular?"

[[ hardyrex ]]

Stripes didn't understand why Tobias just didn't leave StreamClan.
At all.

From all of the rants he sat there and listened to like a good little cat, he hated it. But he wouldn't just leave. If he would leave, then Stripes wouldn't be up at this ungodly hour (running late at that) hurrying to the ranch he had made his little ol' home; keyword: his. It had the best mice, water wasn't much of a problem, but hey, he liked to go out and....attack stuff. It was a good life. A life that would be better if Tobias was in it permanently, not 'I'll see you in two sunrises here, and then when the moon rises I'll be over there..." But Tobias didn't leave, for some reasons, and Stripes wasn't going to make him. Everything was working right now, and there was no reason to force him to change it.

Finally, the ranch had come into sight. All he would have to go is go in and....show Tobias his new found climbing skill! Without anymore fighting, Stripes had time to do other stuff, like climb trees. It was awesome. He felt like a Snarler compared to all the things below him. There were some holes on the top of the Ranch that he could climb up and jump to Tobias.
Prefect.

It took him a few look-sees, but he found a place to scramble up and get to the top. He slipped a few times, but he finally made it without killing himself. Now, just to sneak over and--

Some cat was slipping through the fence and heading toward the ranch. His Clan scent was sort-of like Tobias', but....not. Must be from another Clan. What was a Clan cat that wasn't Tobias doing out this far? He could feel his fur puff up. Stripes had a hard enough time seeing Tobias, there wasn't any way he was going to let some soft-Clanner ruin his time with his only friend. There was a problem, though. Stripes could risk getting Tobias caught with some loner, questions would be asked. As much as Stripes loved the idea of having Tobias for himself, he couldn't do that to the tom. The tabby crawled over to one of the holes and peaked over the edge, watching the tom and Tobias.

ooc; Snarler = Car in Striplish. And CEILING STRIPES IS WATCHING YOU.