Chasing Squirrels (Oakstorm and Bipolarfang)

[Amber]

A moon had passed since her moment of weakness, a moment she would never have again. Weakness was awful, no it was beyond awful. The dark brown tabby she-cat had broke down and admitted she loved a cat. There was something wrong with her. There had to be. Her capable of love? Her heart had always been full of hatred and sharp retorts, not love. Kindness was was than showing weakness. And she had not only admitted love, but had been kind. The tom had broken through her, and somehow her tough exterior had been shattered for that moment. It seemed that everytime they were alone, the harsh front that she kept up toward others would fade a little bit, and she would become....nice.

Shrewfang had her guard up when they weren't alone, but somehow she knew she could depend on Oakstorm. She had always been independent, but finally someone came into her life where she could just relax and let him lead a little. No, the she-cat remained her harsh self when Oakstorm wasn't with her, no one would approach her and escape her wrath. At least with the new little kits in the Clan she wasn't the only half-breed. No, they were worse, they were quarter breeds. Shuddering at the thought she set a brisk pace as she trotted with her mate. It sounded weird, the word mate. But the past moon she had come to accept it, slowly but surely. Oakstorm had said he wasn't going to be a perfect mate, but what did she care, she knew she wasn't going to be anywhere near perfect. And so they had been sent on a hunting patrol. Everyone knew better than to go on patrol with Shrewfang, so she settled for just having Oakstorm with her. Not that she minded.

The tabby had led them to the Chestnut Tree. Shrewfang had not been eager to get her paws all muddy and wet slouching through the rest of the territory and have to clean her fur. She didn't mind being dirty, just cleaning up mud was a hassle. And she was wanting a nice juicy squirrel. Things worked out for the best.

Spotting one nestling nearby, she didn't wait for Oakstorm, she just took off and ended the squirrel's life with a swift blow. Now see that wasn't too hard. Carrying her squirrel back, she buried it and turned to the tom. "Your turn." she stated simply.

[:c a i:]

Oakstorm walked with Shrewfang in companionable silence. That was the way it often went with them. Neither of them liked to talk aimlessly about nothing of importance the way some other cats did, so they were happy to speak only when something was worth speaking of. Their relationship was not often talked of aloud and it was never defined; what they together had was unspoken and private. Oakstorm knew they would never be the kind of cats who whispered sweet nothings or even said "I love you" much, but that was okay too. He wouldn't change a thing.

In fact, nothing really had changed since they'd finally had it out with each other and somehow ended up together. Immediately after there had been that odd period where each of them tried to figure out where they stood with the other, but it hadn't lasted long. Now, they were just as they always had been. They still bickered and squabbled and drove each other round the bend on a daily basis. It was just that they always came back together when the sun set nowadays. The day was ordinary; Shrewfang would spend it biting other cats' heads off and Oakstorm making lighthearted jokes about it. When in company of others, it was never obvious that anything was different. When they were alone, it was easy. Nobody was there to stare or whisper, and nobody would start smiling knowingly. They just did what they pleased, and they were completely comfortable around each other now. No awkwardness to set off their equally fiery tempers.

So here they were, out by the Chestnut Tree chasing squirrels like adolescents in love. Oakstorm smiled wryly, stretching his long muscles in preparation for his hunt when Shrewfang returned. He wasn't about to let his mate beat him, no matter how much he liked her. "Enjoy the view." He quipped, darting off rather elegantly for such a big cat. He fell upon a squirrel as it tried to flee up a tree-trunk, using brute force to propel himself up and latch his jaws around the red fur. The hunt was short and easy, and Oakstorm was grateful. As he trotted back, prize dangling from between his teeth, he smiled indulgently at Shrewfang, laying his catch beside hers. "I believe that makes it your turn." He said pleasantly, flicking his tail down Shrewfang's side with a guilelessly mischievous look on his face.

[/color][/blockquote]