Quote:
Originally Posted by Owl
The feline watched as the tom stopped, narrowing her eyes. She knew he'd catch on and leaving would only cause him to pounce on her. However, he went back to business and she almost sighed in relief, catching herself not wanting to draw more attention to her hidden form. But life wasn't on her side, not today, her stomach had most definitely given her away. The ginger tom had stopped once more, ears perked, and a confused look plastered on his handsome face. The next thing she knew he was bursting through the tall reeds at her and it took a lot of effort for the lanky she-cat to leap back. Standing up, a lot taller than one would assume from her very skinny frame, the molly was just as big as his was. Flicking her tail, the she-cat remained calm despite getting caught. A look of disdain laced her beautiful ocean optics. The tom seemed to be acting all tough and she could almost laugh in his face.
"Great, I've been caught." She said in a mocking tone, sitting down to lick her paw, bringing it over her face to clean it. She watched the tom, giving him a smirk. "Unlike that fish you tried so hard to catch." She let out a mrrow of laughter, it was light, soft but also rugged and raspy sounding all together. She was a bit dehydrated as well as malnourished. "Me? You're asking me, who I am?" She lifted an eye brow. "And who are you?" She wasn't one to give herself away instantly. She was an ex-DS member, what clan cat would possibly want to know that. He'd probably kill her on the spot. Finally she decided to answer his question, better to answer it, get chased off and not die any sooner than she was meant to."Just some molly trying to find some food...because as you can see." She stood up and walked around the muscular tom, her tail brushed his side ever so slightly. "I'm practically skin and bone." She frowned at him. "However, I have not hunted on this territory, I merely wanted to grab a drink. I am too...well weak to hunt. Soon I'll probably die." She shrugged knowing very well her fate was sealed. If Cleo was a normal feline, she might just maybe be afraid of the tom and be worried that she'd be attacked. However, Cleo debated if she should antagonize this tom, make him end her suffering. She was barely managing to keep herself standing. Cleo had always been prideful, not willing to accept help. This time it might just cost her life, though Cleo wasn't even sure she wanted to live.
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Chestnutsplash’s eyes continued to stay narrowed, suspiciously eyeing the she cat to figure her out. When the Molly stood, Chestnutsplash made no efforts to move. She appeared like a sick frame, so that meant she was easy to blow over. But, as she kept a cool demeanor, voicing her humorous observations of the show he put on earlier, Chestnutsplash felt the tip of his ears grow hot to the tip of his tail.
“Ha...ha...you saw that, huh?” His ears flicked back, completely sheepish and he hard stare dropped to the ground. Time to rummage through his brain for a comeback to let this she catcknow that she haven’t won this battle with words! He wasn’t going to allow this unhealthy-appealing feline to run him over. So, like the brilliantly fearless tom he was, he puffed out his chest.
“That fish had a lot more life in it than you seem to have, anyway.” He boasted, a little nerved and embarrassed that she saw what happened between him and a slippery fish.
“Plus, its a leaping salmon! Do you know how hard those things are to catch?” He let out an exasperated sigh. Obviously, she wouldn’t know because she wasn’t a true Riverclan cat. Following after, Chestnutsplash awaited for the spotted Molly to introduce herself. He didn’t expect her to reverse the question back on him. He was little offended about that.
“Don’t think you could just crawl into my territory and expect everything to be a-okay, chica. It doesn’t work like that!” He straightforwardly ignored her question regarding who he was because he knew he didn’t have to answer to her.
Chestnutsplash hardened his glare. His claws slipped out, lining the ground below him in an agitated manner. As if this day couldn’t get any worse...his patience, which he never had much of, was becoming thinner and thinner with this Molly. She started to speak again, alerting Chestnutsplash’s ears to stay lock on her voice. She got up, circling him. He didn’t move a muscle, simply following her with his eyes. As if Starclan had spoken to him, his gaze softened - only slightly as he heard that she wanted to quench her thirst and satiate her hunger. At first, Chestnutsplash was pretty tender. He thought he would had to fight off this Molly, and quite frankly the tom didn’t enjoy fighting she cats.
“Oh...that’s it?” He asked, his voice a low whisper. Out of hospitality, he could give his fish to the she cat. She’ll need it more than he did. Besides, there were plenty of fish in the river!
“You don’t seem like you would cause harm, anyway.” He replied, a little gruffly as his agitation wore off.
“Espera Aquí.” He told her hastily, a term to
“Wait here” while he quickly turned back around to fetch his catch. Chestnutsplash, though fiercely loyal to his clan, knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he allowed her to die. Her blue optics almost looked haunted...he swiftly locked the salmon in his jaws and trotted back through the reeds until he reached the Molly once more. He laid the fish at her paws.
“Eat this. It’ll give you, well, some of your strength back.” He told her. Fish was filled with protein and healthy omega-threes, and most cats of the forest didn’t appreciate the fish like Riverclanners did.