Carbon&&Oxygen;; Open

[zellie]

Grousefang sat down under one of the few trees that rooted themselves in the land of the Windclan. Her smokey grey tail curled around her body. She looked quite regal sitting there, her gaze seeming to settle on nothing in particular. Her quick mind raced, for it never seemed to still. She thought about Willowpelt, who she remembered only from Greyclaws many stories of her. Greyclaw. Oh, if she could get her pretty little paws on her lump of a brother. How could he do that to her? Leave her. For his mate, no less. His jealous, ugly mate. Now, now Grousefang. Keep your temper down. She thought, pushing the cruel thoughts she had of his mate from her mind.

She stood up again, her tail twitching in irritation as it seemd to always do. She paced back and forth under the tree. It just so happened that this was the very tree she'd always come to to think. To get away from most of her Clan. Spruceflower had showed it to her when she was a kit. That was way back when she still trusted the she-cat. Now Grousefang wouldn't even speak to her or of her. Heck, it was rare for Grousefang to speak to anyone. The only time anyone heard her speak was if a stranger was found on Windclan territory and that almost never happened.

She hadn't spoken to anyone in the Clan since Greyclaw had left. At least, not unless she'd had to. But she was good at what she did and she figured that was the only real reason they kept her around. But the real question was, why did she stay? Then again, that wasn't a tough question if you knew Grousefang, which no one did. That was her own fault though. Truly. But she stayed because she felt obligated to. Even if she didn't feel like she belonged this was her Clan. And she'd stay until they told her differently. It was at this moment that her thoughts were interupted. Her ears twitched and she spun to see the cause of the soft crunch of grass she'd heard behind her.

[spike]

((Hi'ya. Thought I'd jump in since Owlfeather needs her posts. Hope you don't mind.))

Dawn has passed. Dusk was on its way. One paw gently placed itself on the ground, dried blades of grass crunching slightly with the weight she added behind it. After this, the step was repeated by the other paw. There was a crunch and so the walk continued. There was no actual purpose as to why she was here. The patrols probably needed her, actually. Fawnpaw could use training. But the urge to do such things had died. The she-cat had no strong feelings of patroling or training. No, she wanted to see her sister, Kalahar. It was a shame she could not call her sister by the name she deserved. Mothstripe, she pondered mentally. It was not a truly fitting name to her sister but it'd have to do. Everybody knew Mothpaw had disappeared long enough ago that she was a mere memory.

Walking alone along this path was not the idea she pictured her life. She didn't expect herself to be so utterly abandoned. Unless one counted cousins like Ospreyfang to be close enough to be real family, she was that much alone. Besides, her older cousin had basically gone crazy. There was nothing there between them that was family. Her dusty-brown tabby pelt was rippled lightly by the winds. She lifted her nose to the air, the wind brushing her throat and chest like a lover rather than something born in the blood of all WindClan cats. She allowed her yellow-green eyes to open and the thing in her sight made her perk up. A butterfly! Deciding that moping was behind her, or rather forgetting about it right away, she leapt up to bat at it. The brightly colored bug felt its wing get buffetted by a brush of air so it took to higher air.

She was determined to get it. The she-cat stiffened her thighs and thrust herself into the air, paws reaching high for hte prey. But she could not reach and so she fell to the ground heavily, unprepared for it. Owlfeather landed on her back paws but her front paws landed too far back so her balance made her fall forward. She tumbled down the slightly hill, face getting covered in dust as she went along. Fox dung, she cursed when she finally halted. There were little butterflies fluttering in her vision from such dizziness. No, this just wouldn't do. Her body ached slightly but not enough to hold her down. It was more like a pain to her pride. At least nobody had seen it.

So apparently walking wasn't her strong point. That was pathetic. Owlfeather knew she did not stand well to her name. Owls could fly but she, a cat, couldn't walk? Oh, how embarrassing! The she-cat limped in the direction she thought she fell but the wind burst through again, this time with a scent. Though Owlfeather was not a social cat, she did recognize scents. This was very much a WindClan she-cat warrior. Curiosity was sparking in her again. No, no, Owlfeather. Kalahar would say no to this. Still... what was a WindClan warrior doing out here rather than with a patrol? Randomly walking around? It better not have been Mousepaw. Smallnose was close to permanently keeping her in camp.

The tabby turned towards the scent and stalked it with caution. If she was intruding, she'd need to make a getaway as fast as she could which seemed more like a crime rather than natural born inquisitiveness. She was watching her paws, mostly. When her left rear foot landed, a sharp, dry crunch of grass erupted and stalled her movements. She saw a flash of what looked to be fur whirl around to face her. She was spotted. Nowhere to turn, nowhere to go, she breathed in deeply and stepped into the view of the WindClan warrior. Oh, it was Grousefang. Owlfeather never knew her that well but from what she had known, it was not pretty. She was temperamental, so some had said. The she-cat was younger than Owlfeather but probably much more mature already. Grousefang was a cat to admire. Very dedicated to the Clan and a worthy opponent in battle, no doubt. Owlfeather stepped up and smiled slightly even though it faltered on her face.

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered nervously. "I didn't... uh, wanna interrupt." Oh no! She was drawing a blank! Bad timing! The tabby lowered her heard and her ears flared red from embarrassment. "Sorry, sorry," she said honestly.

Please let these rumors of Grousefang be wrong.

[zellie]

[[Oh, I don't mind at all. ^_^ Actually you made my day.]]

Grousefangs lightgreen eyes narrowed as she looked at the clumsy looking she-cat before her. Her nostrils flared as she took in her scent. It was a clanmate. What was her name? Grousefang never seemed to pay much attention to names. She hadn't since Greyclaw left. Everything had changed that night. Everything. Except one thing, her devotion to her Clan. That had never changed.

But now, she had to focus. Her gaze narrowed a bit more and she took a small, cautious step toward the she-cat. What was her name? Owl....Owlsomething-or-other. She really should pay more attention to who her Clan consisted of. At least, she knew the scent. That was better than nothing. Grousefangs tail flicked in annoyance as she thought of how this blabbering she-cat fool had broken her perfect silence. A quiet growl formed in her throat, messaging it gently. She was known for her growl. Many of the Clan stayed away from her because she growled at them.

Her muscles rippled as she allowed her paws to slowly carry her in a circle around the she-cat before her. Her gaz took her in, as if measuring her up. Grousefang never went out looking for a fight. She just happened to be cautious in her trust. This offended many cats and often led to her being forced to fight them. It really wasn't her fault at all. If the prson you'd cared about the most had left you in the middle of the night for another she-cat, you'd have a hard time trusting cats too.

She stopped once more in front of the she-cat. She flexed her front paws, relishing in the feeling of her claws scarring the earth. After a moment of looking at the she-cat, as if waiting for something, Grousefang sat down, her tail jumping with her nervousness. "What's your name, she-cat?" Her voice purred, being just as beautiful as her appearance. She used to sing to her brother everynight when he put her to bed. He'd teach her one of Willowpelts old lullabyes and she'd sing it back to him. He said he enjoyed listening to her sing. She hadn't sang a note since the morning she'd realized he was gone.

[Mousy]

[OoC:// *I need to post or Spore will eat me.*]

Well, it wasn't the Outlook Rock, but it would have to do. Miststorm looked around, wondering whether the kits would have left by now; where they were. It didn't bother him as such. Being himself, he had seen MUCH worse. Battles, that devastated territories. Droughts, that killed cats with no mercy. You get the general idea.

He padded along, one paw in front of the other, tail in the air purring contentedly. He was very happy to be walking along the territory: he really wanted to escape the annoying cats who yowled at the tops of their voices and got annoyed for no real reason, even though he could be one of those cats. Oh, indeed, life was amazingly annoying.

As he walked, he saw two she-cats standing together: Owlfeather and... Dooohhh... What was her name...? Pigeonsomething? Oh, it was something bird-y. He didn't really care. She was barely even a Warrior, anyway. She hadn't seen half of the distressing things he had. Her life, by comparison to what he had seen, was just plain boring!

He turned tail, and set off towards the twolegs' barn, where he sometimes went, when he got too fed up with Clan life, and wanted just to think that he was a loner for a minute.

A minute, he mused, was too short.

[OoC:// Well, that was a terrible post.]

[Yoko]

ooc: Haha, welcome to the land of the living kitties, Mousy. Sorry, Kayla, am I interrupting?

bic: Hawkflight raced across the open moor. The dusk sky was filled with warm colored clouds, but this escaped the WindClan tom's harsh gaze. He was intently focused on catching the rabbit ahead. The small, frightened, creature was bolting ahead at full speed. It was making a wide arch, probably just about to dive into the nearest safe hold. Sharply, Hawkflight veered his direction to cut the rabbit off, and just in time too. The brown spotted bunny had been mid-dive and scooped him up by the neck.

Incredibly, the small scared-nearly-to-death rabbit survived and hung limply from its captor's jaws. Hawkflight had taken notice at last to some of his other Clanmates. Two she-cats and a tom. He did not care much for his Clanmates, but he did know the names of these particular ones. Owlfeather, the three-legged one. Grousefang, the distant silent one, and Miststorm, the tom with an uncharacteristically she-cat like name. The she-cats were speaking softly to each other, as she-cats tended to do, so Hawkflight focused in on the tom. Dropping the rabbit, and then smashing its back with his claws to keep the desperate creature from scurrying, he mewed rather coldly, "Shouldn't you be on patrol, Miststorm?"

[Mousy]

[OoC:// Miststorm's silver looks yellow against blue. If you followed that, you get a cookie.

She-cat like name, Yoko? *Shocked.* He isn't she-cat-like in personality.]



Miststorm frowned. Hawkflight, as far as he was concerned, was something of a problem: he didn't take so kindly to being ordered around. But still. He took a deep breath to clear his mind, and, through clenched teeth, he hissed,

"No, Hawkflight. I should not be on a patrol." However calm he attempted to remain, there was still contempt in his voice, and his tail twitched slightly from side to side.

Not a happy bunny, in more ways than one.

Not at all.

"However," he snarled. "If you think I should be on patrol, Hawkflight, I shall not hesitate to join one..." he snarled.

[OoC:// My GOD! Miststorm is so much like me!]

[Yoko]

Hawkflight glanced casually down at the squealing rabbit. Rabbits shouldn't squeal. They should be silent. Hawflight pressed his paw against the back of its neck. Snap! There, now he could think.

"I think its best for everyone if you join a patrol," he mewed, "But I suppose, since the Hunting Patrol is pretty scattered, no cat will mind your not being on one so long as you bring prey back to camp. Just because we have six less mouths to feed, doesn't mean the Clan should slack off on hunting."

He eyed Miststorm carefully, then gave a brief nod in the direction of the chatting she-cats to emphasize his point. And despite how rarely he cares for Clan matters, the wiry tom was compelled to ask, "Did you happen to see Willowstar as she entered camp?"

[Mousy]

Miststorm padded off, his tail twitching grumpily from side to side. He was the oldest warrior in the Clan- possibly in the forest- at 84 moons. He'd seen battles, wars, even. He'd seen cold leaf-bares, hot... Oh, that wasn't the point. Hawkflight was NO-ONE to tell him what to do. He only answered to his leader, his deputy and StarClan. Who was Hawkflight, Hawkflight who didn't even want his own KITS, for StarClan's sake, to order HIM around?!

He decided to do some hunting. Just because he was annoyed with another warrior didn't mean he was going to break the Warrior Code, after all. He went to find a rabbit, or similar.

Eventually, he came across several of the creatures. He kept his back the wind, and dropped in to a hunter's crouch. He snuck forward as quickly as he dared, watching the rabbits, making sure none of them saw him. If one did- or if he made a noise- it would all be over for him. He kept sneaking forwards, until there wasn't enough long grass left to cover him.

Then, he burst out of his cover and ran towards the rabbits, scattering them. One looked as though it was pregnant. The pregnant rabbits didn't very often leave their burrows, but they were easy targets. He would just pretend not to know.

He pounced on the rabbit, which quirmed around in his grip. He let it squirm pityfully for a minute, then bit down heavily on its neck. He padded off, the rabbit dangling from his jaws, and dropped the creature on the ground, then buried it.

Once again, he came across some rabbits. There were three young ones which had wandered off from the main group. A fatal mistake.

He ran forwards in to the annoying rodents, and grabbed two by their ears. He shook them until they squirmed less, then dropped both, and bit their necks. Once again, he carried them by their ears, and went to where he'd buried the first rabbit. He dug it up again, and started carrying his kill back to camp, hoping that some other cats had caught some prey, as well.

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