[AbsurdJinx]

Originally Posted by Lonestar23

Obsidian's ears tilted backwards and pinned themselves against his head. He leapt to his paws, hues now wide open, facing the she cat before him. She looked harmless enough. Hm. Small build, soft voice, definitely not a fighter...nicely groomed though, interesting. Doesn't have the scent of a kittypet. He thought, examining her for a moment with a nervous expression. "No, I'm not lost. What do you want?" He asked, his voice a dangerous growl. He backed away from her a little, careful not to break eye contact. He had learned not all cats could be trusted, and if he broke eye contact with this one...there was no telling what she might do. She could be a dangerous maniac. Or she could be a perfectly nice cat, he thought, though he tried to push the thought out of his head. Of course she wasn't a perfectly nice cat. She could be dangerous! What did she want from him? What was she looking for? Was she trying to distract him? He looked her over again, his hues wide with alarm as he did so.

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, and he never did...this she cat frightened him. She was too calm. Too quiet. Too...friendly. She must want something from him. Whatever it is, I won't give it to her! He thought with another snarl, his ivory fangs flashing in the sunlight. Slowly he unsheathed his claws, flexing them, allowing the sun to light them up, just silently trying to let her know that he had the power to hurt her if he wished to do so. The problem was, Obsidian wasn't a killer. He was a great fighter, but he was a defensive fighter. He hated attacking for no reason, and he hated cats who would do so. He was going to fight her verbally first, but not too much to allow his strength to give out.

Stupid, stupid cat. You let your guard down! How idiotic can you be! He thought, a snarl building up in his throat, although he swallowed it quickly. Not until he found out the intentions of this strange cat would he allow himself to be hostile towards her. The black furred tom could feel himself growing more and more frustrated with himself. Why was she standing so far away? Was she trying to freak him out? And why was she looking at him? What did she want? He couldn't figure out the answer to any of these questions by looking at her. She looked so innocent...and yet Obsidian had learned the hard way that the most innocent cats were the ones who seemed to be the most dangerous. That was just the way of the world, whether he understood it or not. At least, that was how it worked in his mind. Then again he had been through so much that it was only natural he would think that way. He glared at her, his hues narrowed as he tried to figure out what she was doing.

"Don't come any closer. I don't want to hurt you, but I will," He hissed. Although the she cat didn't look like she was going anywhere close to him, he definitely didn't want to take a chance. Better safe then sorry. Better cautious then not. In his opinion. He never, ever wanted to let his guard down again. Look what happened! I let my guard down, she could have hurt me, stupid, stupid Obsidian! He berated himself again, all the time keeping his hues fixed on the she cat with an almost defiant gleam in them. It was as though he were saying 'what are you going to do?' He didn't want to get into a fight. Especially not with a she cat. She didn't look defensive, or aggressive...but neither had the show cats. Those show cats had been vicious, unforgivable, cold cats. Cats that Obsidian wanted nothing to do with. Still, she didn't look much like a show cat. She didn't have the right coloring for a champion, nor the right stance, and she didn't have a snooty, stuck up voice...maybe she wasn't going to try and hurt him. Relaxing just the slightest bit, Obsidian resheathed his claws, his own words playing back in his head. I don't want to hurt you.

But if you hurt me, either physically or emotionally...you give me no choice. I 'm not going to be hurt again. He thought, keeping his hues fixed on her as though he was trying to convey his silent message through just staring.

Calia was surprised with his harsh tone, and her eyes gleamed brightly in the sunlight with her current emotion. She knew the poor tomcat was frightened - he gave away his anxiety in both his expression and actions. She was aware that he had been through a lot, possible more than any cat is capable of. Although she didn't exactly know what brought him to act the way he was, she knew it must not of been pretty. At the moment, she was convinced he would not harm her. He seemed harmless - only scared he was. She has experience with scared cats, some so scared they resorted to uncoordinated fighting before running off.

With a yelp of fright, the ginger she-cat jumped backwards. Her fur rose, and her tail fluffed out. Her ears were folded back and her eyes widened, displayed fright. Calia stared at the defensive tom, taken aback. He'd unsheathed his claws on her! How rude! was what crossed her mind. It looked as if he were to talk again, and when he did, she was in shock of his words. Quickly, her gaze hardened and her fur flattened. She lashed her tail, and opened her mouth to speak. ``Hey, no! I will not allow you to be so disrespectful! This is my home you are in, okay? Hasn't your mother taught you manners?`` Her tone was stern, most definitely not anything threatening. Instead, it resembled that of a mother scolding her kit.

Softening, Calia stepped back and gathered herself. She shook out her pelt, and kindness once again flooded her blue eyes. ``Now, would you like something to eat? I managed to store a few scrawny mice by the hou- er, twoleg nest. The weather's going easy on us this leaf-bare. The snow isn't bad, and the prey isn't as scarce as I had feared.`` Calia used one of her many techniques on the tomcat - distraction. She had swiftly recovered from his powerful looks, and she learned to ignore his rude nature. She wasn't interested in hurting him whether it be physically or emotionally. However, getting hurt can happen on accident - something she learned at a young age. Her intentions were not to harm him, and if she did, it would be accidental.

She refrained from asking his name, knowledgeable that having a complete stranger knowing of your name can be stressful. She herself was completely comfortable with freely giving out her signature - she had nothing to hide, but it seemed as if the tom before her did. Calia flicked her tail to the left, hinting that she would now pass by him to reach the place beside the house where she could dig up the prey. With hesitant steps, the long-haired molly began her trail by him. She was in a submissive posture, her belly fur brushing against the ground and her tail motionless at her side. She avoided his gaze, knowing that eye-contact can be nerve-racking for most.