Dusk Syndicate Clearing

[Hexict]

Originally Posted by mirefern

Lusk doesn't actually intend to imply that he'd been the demise of a cat (he hadn't, actually,) -- but then again, who hasn't? He turns his head away from the smaller tom, settling it upon his coworker, of sorts. His good eye blinks slowly, as if he's coming back down to reality.

"Insulting?" It clicks after a moment. He recalls the topic they'd never left. "In the syndicate, yes. I joined sometime after Neomora was given her position." He feels he's oversharing, dropping his guard under Arrow's wide eyes. He snorts, catching himself -- Arrow hadn't asked. There's a little voice that gnaws at him, tells him to shut up and turn away from the both of them.

Strangely, he does not.

"Hamlet." Lusk addresses the younger suddenly, turning to stare blankly down at the cat. He recalls the same conversation, the same time, out under the glaring sun with a kit bold enough to approach him. "...Do you still enjoy the sun?"

Arrow offered a nod of understanding. Many cats in the Syndicate were insulting and rude, even to each other but are worse towards those they believe are under them. He also took note as Lusk spoke of Neomora, the first Commander that Arrow had known. Though the younger Healer hadn't really known her all that well, and wasn't sure how to feel about her. Under her rule the Syndicate was allowed to attack the clans and steal their kits - and as a stolen kit with a formerly warm and comfortable home, Arrow wasn't really approving towards that. But Neomora had let him became a Healer, so he did have to give her that.

The tom was pleased that Renn was keeping the semi-peace between the clans. The Syndicate and the clans weren't friends but they no longer fought like they use to. Arrow was one to frown upon violence. He perked up as Lusk now addressed Hamlet. He furrowed his brows when the larger tom asked the small trainee if he still enjoyed the sun. "Have you two spoken before?" Arrow felt like a mouse-brain as he asked, but he wasn't too sure why.

[monfang]

Katana padded past Lynx and Salem, ignoring their conversation. The she-cat grabbed the freshest piece of food she could find, and began to ate. Dereven saw her, and padded up. "Hey, that was my kill!" they growled. "And... It was in the kill pile... like you will be soon if you don't stop! Growl at me again, and Hannibal will have a feast tonight." she snarled. Dereven's eyes widened. "You wouldn't..." "Oh, no? Well, let's see... try to take my food again, and I promise you, Hannibal will be picking your bones from his teeth!" she said, baring her teeth with a hissy snarl, which drew them back. Lynx and Salem walked over. "Is there a problem Katana?" Salem asked. "Ask that fool." she said, her eyes down on her food and she pawed it. Dereven growled. "We'll see who Hannibal will be feasting upon! Stupid kit!" they snarled, and the flicked around and stomped off. "Hmph... Hannibal will be happy tonight..." she said, and stood up, following Dereven.

[Empress Of Evil]

@fenic!

Sparta tumbled out of the nursery, doing a forward roll accidently before landing on his back. The young kit sat up and looked around, his eyes wide. He saw many cats. Cats who seemed familiar, yet at the same time, complete strangers. This being the first time he had ever been able to escape the warm clutches of the nursery and mother and father, seeing many new cats filled him with wonder. "Wow! Do these cats all really live here?" Sparta exclaimed, to no one in particular. He scrambled to his paws, shaking his thick, dark pelt that was now covered in dust. His big paws carried him a little distance from the nursery, getting him closer to the middle of the clearing. He noticed his sister, Chiaki was talking to a strange cat. The big cat had a pelt that looked like him, but white paws and chest. The thought never came to him that that strange tom cat could be the big scary monster Lilith had told him and his littermates of.

[Empress Of Evil]

@Duskflight

Tundra padded through the camp entrance. Her expression blank but her eyes shifted around uneasily. She walked off to a quiet spot where she was almost certain she would not be disturbed. She wasn't a fan of cats talking to her. She was much too shy. The siberian she cat sat down and started to groom her matted pelt. Through her rhythmic licks, she would occasionally glance up to see if any cat looked like they would want to talk to her. Feeling relieved that no cat seemed to be approaching she continued to smooth down her fluffy pelt for a little longer. Tundra soon started to drift off into another world. Dreaming about a world where everything was peaceful, no crazy cats, no death. A place where she could get out of her nest and not fear the cats she lived with. Everyday for Tundra was just a day where she feared someone would hurt her or her close ones. Of which she didn't have many of. As Tundra was floating around in peace, she hadn't realised she had been continuously licking the same arm for about 5 minutes. If anyone had been watching her for the past 5 minutes they would've noticed.
(Sorry it's not very long. I find it hard to make starters long)

[The Cannibal]

Originally Posted by Empress Of Evil

@Duskflight

Tundra padded through the camp entrance. Her expression blank but her eyes shifted around uneasily. She walked off to a quiet spot where she was almost certain she would not be disturbed. She wasn't a fan of cats talking to her. She was much too shy. The siberian she cat sat down and started to groom her matted pelt. Through her rhythmic licks, she would occasionally glance up to see if any cat looked like they would want to talk to her. Feeling relieved that no cat seemed to be approaching she continued to smooth down her fluffy pelt for a little longer. Tundra soon started to drift off into another world. Dreaming about a world where everything was peaceful, no crazy cats, no death. A place where she could get out of her nest and not fear the cats she lived with. Everyday for Tundra was just a day where she feared someone would hurt her or her close ones. Of which she didn't have many of. As Tundra was floating around in peace, she hadn't realised she had been continuously licking the same arm for about 5 minutes. If anyone had been watching her for the past 5 minutes they would've noticed.
(Sorry it's not very long. I find it hard to make starters long)

{It's all good, I'm not too good at making exceptionally long starters either xD}

As Tundra padded through the entrance to camp, Hannibal settled down with a raven near the fighters den, his eerie orangish-red gaze focused on the she-cat, not for any particular reason as he began to neatly pluck the feathers from the bird of his choice. Analyzing her as he did most cats, it wasn't hard to decipher that she was fairly uneasy, about what, he didn't know, perhaps it was the place she lived in, it could tend to make many cats uneasy, not him, but many. Or perhaps something had happened out in the territory, maybe she did something that she was supposed to and was hoping that she had covered up enough of the evidence so no one would find out. There were many possibilities and quite frankly, Hannibal didn't care at the moment, his gaze settling back on his meal as he plucked off the last of the black feathers. Unsheathing his claws, the dark grey tom neatly drug one from the top of the birds throat down to it's tail end, a neat trail of blood flowing from either side of the incision and also coating the single claw that he had used to make the cut. With the incision made, the emotionless tom carefully licked the dark red liquid from his claw before edging his muzzle into the incision in the bird, meticulously pulling out the entrails and setting them in a neat pile off to the side before beginning to dig in, his gaze refocusing on Tundra again. She had settled down by now and was licking herself, her gaze distant, clearly thinking about something. And thinking about it deeply too it appears because she continued to lick the same spot, over and over and over. If he could feel amusement, he might have felt it then, but he was incapable of feeling anything so he simply stared as he continued to eat the plucked and disemboweled raven, not saying a word. Many cats found Hannibal much too creepy to want to uphold any sort of conversation with him, his unblinking gaze and emotionless stature, and the pure fact that they knew exactly what he did, and it would be surprising if Tundra would be the same as most of the others.

[Empress Of Evil]

Originally Posted by Duskflight

{It's all good, I'm not too good at making exceptionally long starters either xD}

As Tundra padded through the entrance to camp, Hannibal settled down with a raven near the fighters den, his eerie orangish-red gaze focused on the she-cat, not for any particular reason as he began to neatly pluck the feathers from the bird of his choice. Analyzing her as he did most cats, it wasn't hard to decipher that she was fairly uneasy, about what, he didn't know, perhaps it was the place she lived in, it could tend to make many cats uneasy, not him, but many. Or perhaps something had happened out in the territory, maybe she did something that she was supposed to and was hoping that she had covered up enough of the evidence so no one would find out. There were many possibilities and quite frankly, Hannibal didn't care at the moment, his gaze settling back on his meal as he plucked off the last of the black feathers. Unsheathing his claws, the dark grey tom neatly drug one from the top of the birds throat down to it's tail end, a neat trail of blood flowing from either side of the incision and also coating the single claw that he had used to make the cut. With the incision made, the emotionless tom carefully licked the dark red liquid from his claw before edging his muzzle into the incision in the bird, meticulously pulling out the entrails and setting them in a neat pile off to the side before beginning to dig in, his gaze refocusing on Tundra again. She had settled down by now and was licking herself, her gaze distant, clearly thinking about something. And thinking about it deeply too it appears because she continued to lick the same spot, over and over and over. If he could feel amusement, he might have felt it then, but he was incapable of feeling anything so he simply stared as he continued to eat the plucked and disemboweled raven, not saying a word. Many cats found Hannibal much too creepy to want to uphold any sort of conversation with him, his unblinking gaze and emotionless stature, and the pure fact that they knew exactly what he did, and it would be surprising if Tundra would be the same as most of the others.

(Sorry for late reply!)
Tundra suddenly fell out of dreamland and landed in reality as she felt a certain pair of reddish coloured eyes staring at her. She looked down, deciding to ignore whatever she though had been watching her, for the fear an angry cat might be staring at her and might get mad if she looked up. She worried about silly things, but that's the way this she cat worked. Tundra studied her arm which was quite wet from all the grooming. Much more damp then when she normally groomed herself. Tundra blew gently on her arm in attempt to dry up her fur, not liking the dampness. Obviously it didn't really work out. Tundra forgot about the strange feeling that someone had been watching her earlier and she looked up, scanning the clearing. Nothing really caught the attention of her amberish, greenish hues. Except for a pair of bold coloured eyes. Redish eyes. In other words Hannibal's eyes. Tundra kept herself from shuddering. She hadn't talked to Hannibal before. She had seen him talking to others but never her. In her opinion Hannibal had always seemed like a scary cat, that seemed violent but calm at the same time. But despite the fact she couldn't really prove her predictions, one thing she was sure of was that those rare coloured eyes would always send a chill down her spine every time her gaze past them. Tundra looked down near Hannibal's paws, hoping he hadn't noticed her studying him. Lying, scattered around his paws she caught a glimpse of a few feathers. Maybe he was eating a bird earlier?, She thought. Tundra squinted her eyes as she swear she had snatched a look of something red and dark. Something that wasn't his eyes. Was that....blood on his claws? With that, Tundra shuddered. It was too hard for her to hide it. Tundra knew she was being stupid. I mean, what kind of a cat is scared of blood when they see it every time they eat and fight? Still, blood gave Tundra the shivers. Tundra moved her gaze towards a spot next to Hannibal, wanting to stop looking at the blood splattered claws. Only to be horrified once again with a sight of bird entrails. She wanted to throw up. Sure. She saw entrails every time she ate a piece of prey but she would throw it into a pile of dirt and cover it up or some other option like that. She would never pack it into a neat pile. Tundra took her gaze away from there as well her face now looking even more uneasy and returned her sight back on the ground in front of her.

[The Cannibal]

Originally Posted by Empress Of Evil

(Sorry for late reply!)
Tundra suddenly fell out of dreamland and landed in reality as she felt a certain pair of reddish coloured eyes staring at her. She looked down, deciding to ignore whatever she though had been watching her, for the fear an angry cat might be staring at her and might get mad if she looked up. She worried about silly things, but that's the way this she cat worked. Tundra studied her arm which was quite wet from all the grooming. Much more damp then when she normally groomed herself. Tundra blew gently on her arm in attempt to dry up her fur, not liking the dampness. Obviously it didn't really work out. Tundra forgot about the strange feeling that someone had been watching her earlier and she looked up, scanning the clearing. Nothing really caught the attention of her amberish, greenish hues. Except for a pair of bold coloured eyes. Redish eyes. In other words Hannibal's eyes. Tundra kept herself from shuddering. She hadn't talked to Hannibal before. She had seen him talking to others but never her. In her opinion Hannibal had always seemed like a scary cat, that seemed violent but calm at the same time. But despite the fact she couldn't really prove her predictions, one thing she was sure of was that those rare coloured eyes would always send a chill down her spine every time her gaze past them. Tundra looked down near Hannibal's paws, hoping he hadn't noticed her studying him. Lying, scattered around his paws she caught a glimpse of a few feathers. Maybe he was eating a bird earlier?, She thought. Tundra squinted her eyes as she swear she had snatched a look of something red and dark. Something that wasn't his eyes. Was that....blood on his claws? With that, Tundra shuddered. It was too hard for her to hide it. Tundra knew she was being stupid. I mean, what kind of a cat is scared of blood when they see it every time they eat and fight? Still, blood gave Tundra the shivers. Tundra moved her gaze towards a spot next to Hannibal, wanting to stop looking at the blood splattered claws. Only to be horrified once again with a sight of bird entrails. She wanted to throw up. Sure. She saw entrails every time she ate a piece of prey but she would throw it into a pile of dirt and cover it up or some other option like that. She would never pack it into a neat pile. Tundra took her gaze away from there as well her face now looking even more uneasy and returned her sight back on the ground in front of her.

{Jeez, I'm sorry about this late reply!}
It was a reaction most cats had when they felt that hollow, searing pair of orangeish-red eyes focused on them from a distance, a feeling of dread creeping over them as they peered over their shoulder to find the dark tom seated a good bit away, calmly washing a paw, or eating, or simply sitting there or laying there, staring at them, observing them. Just as he was doing to Tundra now. His gaze never left her, even when she perked her attention up enough to look around the clearing to see who was watching her until meeting his eyes, he didn't blink, he didn't move his gaze, he simply stared as she continued to eat. It almost gave a sense of foreboding, as if a silent threat that the she-cat could end up just like the bird he was carefully eating now, or perhaps that could all be in your imagination. There was no telling with Hannibal. No one understands him and likely, no one will. Perhaps it's because he didn't want to be understood, or perhaps no cat was able to get close enough to understand him, or perhaps he lets cats understand him from time to time only to lead them to crippling insanity or lead them to an unspeakable demise. Again, no one knows. Only one thing was known about Hannibal, and that was that he was very dangerous. Many cats outright avoided him, some had the nerve to speak to him, and a very daring few had gone out alone with him in the forest, some to never return. It was rumored that he was a cannibal, that he ate some of his victims and hid the bones, some even saying that he's eaten kits before, and when you looked into his eyes, you could see the souls of the cats that had fallen at his claws and fangs. But this was all rumor.. Right? Nonetheless, one thing was for certain, this cat was extremely creepy and sent shivers down many other cats' spines.
Hannibal didn't miss a thing as he observed her from his position, he saw her studying him and he saw her look down as if to cover up that she had been looking at him, perhaps silently hoping that he wouldn't get up and speak to her about it. She was looking over his meal. His way of eating was strange and very particular, many cats were disgusted or creeped out by the way he ate, removing all of the feathers in a neat pile, disemboweling it and sometimes even beheading it before digging in. And it was clear Tundra wasn't too fond of it either, though he showed no sign at all of anything going through his mind as he watched her shudder, his face was as blank and emotionless as always. It seemed she had had enough of watching him eat and he simply flicked his tail, eyes still focused on her as he chomped through bones and flesh, occasionally using a paw to hold the carcass still as he tore neatly at the piece of prey.

[Empress Of Evil]

Originally Posted by Duskflight

{Jeez, I'm sorry about this late reply!}
It was a reaction most cats had when they felt that hollow, searing pair of orangeish-red eyes focused on them from a distance, a feeling of dread creeping over them as they peered over their shoulder to find the dark tom seated a good bit away, calmly washing a paw, or eating, or simply sitting there or laying there, staring at them, observing them. Just as he was doing to Tundra now. His gaze never left her, even when she perked her attention up enough to look around the clearing to see who was watching her until meeting his eyes, he didn't blink, he didn't move his gaze, he simply stared as she continued to eat. It almost gave a sense of foreboding, as if a silent threat that the she-cat could end up just like the bird he was carefully eating now, or perhaps that could all be in your imagination. There was no telling with Hannibal. No one understands him and likely, no one will. Perhaps it's because he didn't want to be understood, or perhaps no cat was able to get close enough to understand him, or perhaps he lets cats understand him from time to time only to lead them to crippling insanity or lead them to an unspeakable demise. Again, no one knows. Only one thing was known about Hannibal, and that was that he was very dangerous. Many cats outright avoided him, some had the nerve to speak to him, and a very daring few had gone out alone with him in the forest, some to never return. It was rumored that he was a cannibal, that he ate some of his victims and hid the bones, some even saying that he's eaten kits before, and when you looked into his eyes, you could see the souls of the cats that had fallen at his claws and fangs. But this was all rumor.. Right? Nonetheless, one thing was for certain, this cat was extremely creepy and sent shivers down many other cats' spines.
Hannibal didn't miss a thing as he observed her from his position, he saw her studying him and he saw her look down as if to cover up that she had been looking at him, perhaps silently hoping that he wouldn't get up and speak to her about it. She was looking over his meal. His way of eating was strange and very particular, many cats were disgusted or creeped out by the way he ate, removing all of the feathers in a neat pile, disemboweling it and sometimes even beheading it before digging in. And it was clear Tundra wasn't too fond of it either, though he showed no sign at all of anything going through his mind as he watched her shudder, his face was as blank and emotionless as always. It seemed she had had enough of watching him eat and he simply flicked his tail, eyes still focused on her as he chomped through bones and flesh, occasionally using a paw to hold the carcass still as he tore neatly at the piece of prey.

Tundra's amberish and greenish coloured hues concentrated hard on the dusty ground in front of her. Feeling a gaze, once again, upon her. Frozen and not daring to look up, terrified of the fact she might catch Hannibal observing her. She had always thought that when Hannibal observed cats it looked as if they would be a worthy piece of prey for him to kill. She gulped at the thought and kept her gaze on the ground. It was liked she was trying to dig a hole into the ground with her eyes. Tundra's concentration was snapped as she heard a low rumble from her belly. Her ears flattened and she felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. She lifted her eyes slightly, just enough so that she could at least look around, and not at the ground. Her eyes scanned the clearing. No one was near her, hopefully no one had heard her belly make that embarrassing noise. She hated being embarrassed. The attention would all be on her and cats laughed at her, not with her. Tundra thought for a moment. She realised she was fussing about being embarrassed over a rumble in her belly. It's not anyone would care. Would they? Everyone's belly would rumble at some point in their life. Tundra sighed and shook her head slightly and slowly. Remembering her rumbling belly she gulped. She didn't exactly want to walk up to the fresh kill pile. Afterall, what if a cat talked to her? She would probably stuff up and say something awkward....just like she always did. Oh come on Tundra! It's just walking to the prey pile and picking up a piece of prey! How hard can that be?, Tundra thought, scolding herself for her fears. But then what if Hannibal is observing me while I walk up and get a piece of prey? Then I'd probably slip and fall over. How embarrassing! Then he'd laugh at me and get others to join in. Wait, does Hannibal even laugh?, Tundra thought, many thoughts of how simply walking up to the prey pile could lead to public humiliation. Feeling annoyed with herself she finally got the guts to rise to her paws and started to pad reluctantly towards that pile of prey that lay in the middle of the clearing.
Tundra's eyes raked through the pile quickly while she used her paws to dig in deeper. Her gaze landed on a plump squirrel that lay on the very bottom. She bent down to pick it up, her head accidentally knocking the rest of the prey over and tumbling down. She grasped the squirrel in her mouth and straightened up. She looked down and say the toppled pile laying in front of her. Had anyone seen that? Her eyes nervously looking from one side of the clearing to the other. There was this small thing nagging at her, a thing that made her want to wail. She couldn't even get a piece of prey without knocking anything over! Why did Tundra have to be....well, Tundra? An awkward cat who was clumsy and couldn't even take a single piece of prey from the pile without humiliating herself. She really hated herself sometimes. She blinked away small droplets that started to form in her eyes and trotted off quickly to the spot she was previously in before, tail drooping and head down.

[doghouse]

Chaos sighed. He was bored. There wasn't much to do when you couldn't fight anyone. He wished that he could walk up the the nearest cat and claw them to pieces, but alas, that wouldn't be a very good idea. The huge muscular tom padded over to the fresh-kill pile and picked out a mouse. For such a huge tom, he didn't eat much. His massive shoulders jutted out of his thick gray and black pelt, and anger gleamed in the yellow depths of his orbs. He hissed in frustration and sat to eat his mouse. Maybe I was stupid for choosing to be a fighter....? Naw. He shrugged and devoured the mouse in a few hungry gulps, then he stood and padded away into the territory. Maybe there's someone there I can fight....

[The Cannibal]

Originally Posted by Empress Of Evil

Tundra's amberish and greenish coloured hues concentrated hard on the dusty ground in front of her. Feeling a gaze, once again, upon her. Frozen and not daring to look up, terrified of the fact she might catch Hannibal observing her. She had always thought that when Hannibal observed cats it looked as if they would be a worthy piece of prey for him to kill. She gulped at the thought and kept her gaze on the ground. It was liked she was trying to dig a hole into the ground with her eyes. Tundra's concentration was snapped as she heard a low rumble from her belly. Her ears flattened and she felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. She lifted her eyes slightly, just enough so that she could at least look around, and not at the ground. Her eyes scanned the clearing. No one was near her, hopefully no one had heard her belly make that embarrassing noise. She hated being embarrassed. The attention would all be on her and cats laughed at her, not with her. Tundra thought for a moment. She realised she was fussing about being embarrassed over a rumble in her belly. It's not anyone would care. Would they? Everyone's belly would rumble at some point in their life. Tundra sighed and shook her head slightly and slowly. Remembering her rumbling belly she gulped. She didn't exactly want to walk up to the fresh kill pile. Afterall, what if a cat talked to her? She would probably stuff up and say something awkward....just like she always did. Oh come on Tundra! It's just walking to the prey pile and picking up a piece of prey! How hard can that be?, Tundra thought, scolding herself for her fears. But then what if Hannibal is observing me while I walk up and get a piece of prey? Then I'd probably slip and fall over. How embarrassing! Then he'd laugh at me and get others to join in. Wait, does Hannibal even laugh?, Tundra thought, many thoughts of how simply walking up to the prey pile could lead to public humiliation. Feeling annoyed with herself she finally got the guts to rise to her paws and started to pad reluctantly towards that pile of prey that lay in the middle of the clearing.
Tundra's eyes raked through the pile quickly while she used her paws to dig in deeper. Her gaze landed on a plump squirrel that lay on the very bottom. She bent down to pick it up, her head accidentally knocking the rest of the prey over and tumbling down. She grasped the squirrel in her mouth and straightened up. She looked down and say the toppled pile laying in front of her. Had anyone seen that? Her eyes nervously looking from one side of the clearing to the other. There was this small thing nagging at her, a thing that made her want to wail. She couldn't even get a piece of prey without knocking anything over! Why did Tundra have to be....well, Tundra? An awkward cat who was clumsy and couldn't even take a single piece of prey from the pile without humiliating herself. She really hated herself sometimes. She blinked away small droplets that started to form in her eyes and trotted off quickly to the spot she was previously in before, tail drooping and head down.

Just as her eyes bore into the ground, his eyes bore into her as he finished up eating the bird in front of him, the soft crunching and snapping of bones, the quiet ripping of flesh as he devoured the raven could be heard from where she sat, almost painstakingly certain that it was some sort of warning from the tom for his plans for her. But of course she wouldn't know that he doesn't kill random cats, no he kills very particular cats because he has only one rule and that one rule, whether you break it or not, can determine whether he'll end your life or not. There has only been one cat to escape his clutches and they were only able to because another cat just barely intervened. Perhaps he was planning his second and final ploy to kill that cat, perhaps not, perhaps he had settled for something that would end with a much more interesting result and that was causing her to slip into insanity. Or perhaps he would simply let her go. Hannibal was a very complicated cat as many cats would come to know. You could never tell what his next move would be, unless you knew that you had broken his rule.. But some cats had no clue about his rule, and that's a very bad mistake if you ever wish to speak to this tom. One slip up and you'll end up squirming in your own blood as he tears into you. Or perhaps he simply slits your throat and stands back to watch you bleed out. No one has lived to tell the tail of how Hannibal kills, except for that one cat, Illusion, his former trainee, but it would be doubtful she would tell you anyways. She was deceptive and you wouldn't be able to tell if she was telling the truth or not so really, she would be no use.
All of the bird except for the beak and part of the skull was now gone and the dark grey tom simply pushed that aside with a paw before turning to the innards, silently devouring them, taking his time, enjoying the flavor as they seeped into his maw, gaze still boring into Tundra as she got up and seemed to be padding towards the fresh kill pile and when she made it back to her original resting place (after causing the rest of the prey to go tumbling down, causing the pile to be scattered now, quite embarrassing for her), he had finished the rest of the bird that he had set aside and was washing his paws, his orange gaze not even seeming to blink, he had focused on her the entire time. What was going through his head? No cat would know.
After washing his paws and making sure his pelt was in check, he slowly rose to his paws and began to pad towards the white she-cat, his expression as blank and as emotionless as usual. "Greetings Tundra, mind if I join you for a little.. Chit-chat?" Inquired the tom, standing a foot or two away from her, the tip of his tail flicking back and forth slowly as he waited for her to answer. In all truth, he had nothing better to do and so he had decided why not.. Poke at her a bit? Probe her? See what her mind was made of. She looked weak, weak of mind and weak of spirit and could be an easy target should he ever want to.. Pick and push at that brain.. Send it tottering over. But he wouldn't do that now. No, he would simply observe her through conversation, as he did with some cats when he didn't quite feel like going for a stroll.