Dickens silently crept into the territory,holding his prized glass shard in his jaws. His scent was masked by the layers of mud coating his pelt - he is on a stealth mission. To set ShadowClan on fire, in the part of Territory most likely to spark arguments. The rogue's muzzle curled into a leering grin. This will be fun!
He listened to the crackling coming somewhere nearby, holding in a manic laugh.
Whiteheart padded in, lame leg dragging. Chickweed and yellow bells. He soon found a few stalks of the yellow bells, yanking them out carefully from the earth. Shadowlight hadn't appeared so he decided to just continue the patrol with Brokentalon alone. That was okay. He straightened, wincing at his shoulder. Emerald hues narrowed into slits. Something was amiss, but just what?
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Another day of aimlessly wandering around the territory with his favorite son, yours truly, Darkfall, Vulturefang had avoided any deep minded conversations. Reasons? Well, first and foremost, it was awkward... Secondly, he knew Dark wouldn't willingly talk to him. But that was his loss, he was the one missing out on talking to him. Hmm, oh well, I guess that was the punishment of being whiny.
While these musings graced his mind once or twice, he didn't really dwell on them. This fact became more apparent when something caught his attention. Scarred jaws parting in confusion, he scented the air. A very, very faint scent lingered.... Halting in his place, the massive deputy waved his partner to a stop. Eyes narrowed suspiciously, he listened for anything out of the ordinary. A few moments passed, and there...there it was. The faint shuffling of paw steps. Stifling a growl, he flashed a look back at the young enforcer before striding forward. It wasn't long before he found the source of activity. There, freely trespassing, stood a mud streaked rogue. You've got to be kidding me... when could he catch a break? Ugh...
Stepping from the sparse foliage, he sized the other tom up before making himself known. " Well, what sorta degenerate did the back water woods wash up today?" pelt bristling along his shoulders, Vulturefang once again flicked his tail over to Darkfall; trying to remind him to be ready for anything. This would most likely be a dull encounter, but it was better safe than sorry. " Explain yourself now, or you'll be greeting the devil in the next five seconds. "
Dickens silently crept into the territory,holding his prized glass shard in his jaws. His scent was masked by the layers of mud coating his pelt - he is on a stealth mission. To set ShadowClan on fire, in the part of Territory most likely to spark arguments. The rogue's muzzle curled into a leering grin. This will be fun!
Whiteheart padded in, lame leg dragging. Chickweed and yellow bells. He soon found a few stalks of the yellow bells, yanking them out carefully from the earth. Shadowlight hadn't appeared so he decided to just continue the patrol with Brokentalon alone. That was okay. He straightened, wincing at his shoulder. Emerald hues narrowed into slits. Something was amiss, but just what?
Brokentalon had scented the strange cat first. Then the realization hit. But, something else seemed off... Was that scent- wait... He knew that scent!
"Whiteheart, there's some intruders nearby." Brokentalon hissed, fur bristling.
Michael had been ready to cause some mischief amongst the clans, missing his father dearly. William had died via rateye forcing him to eat deathberries. His tail slowly Swished as he walked over to Dickens."hey, mind if I join your little mischief making?" There was a similiar-sized glass shard in his mouth.
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Another day of aimlessly wandering around the territory with his favorite son, yours truly, Darkfall, Vulturefang had avoided any deep minded conversations. Reasons? Well, first and foremost, it was awkward... Secondly, he knew Dark wouldn't willingly talk to him. But that was his loss, he was the one missing out on talking to him. Hmm, oh well, I guess that was the punishment of being whiny.
While these musings graced his mind once or twice, he didn't really dwell on them. This fact became more apparent when something caught his attention. Scarred jaws parting in confusion, he scented the air. A very, very faint scent lingered.... Halting in his place, the massive deputy waved his partner to a stop. Eyes narrowed suspiciously, he listened for anything out of the ordinary. A few moments passed, and there...there it was. The faint shuffling of paw steps. Stifling a growl, he flashed a look back at the young enforcer before striding forward. It wasn't long before he found the source of activity. There, freely trespassing, stood a mud streaked rogue. You've got to be kidding me... when could he catch a break? Ugh...
Stepping from the sparse foliage, he sized the other tom up before making himself known. " Well, what sorta degenerate did the back water woods wash up today?" pelt bristling along his shoulders, Vulturefang once again flicked his tail over to Darkfall; trying to remind him to be ready for anything. This would most likely be a dull encounter, but it was better safe than sorry. " Explain yourself now, or you'll be greeting the devil in the next five seconds. "
Brokentalon had scented the strange cat first. Then the realization hit. But, something else seemed off... Was that scent- wait... He knew that scent!
"Whiteheart, there's some intruders nearby." Brokentalon hissed, fur bristling.
Michael had been ready to cause some mischief amongst the clans, missing his father dearly. William had died via rateye forcing him to eat deathberries. His tail slowly Swished as he walked over to Dickens."hey, mind if I join your little mischief making?" There was a similiar-sized glass shard in his mouth.
Dickens smiled cheerily at Vulturefang. What a welcome he was receiving! "One sec, I'll be with ya inna momento," he said, then turning to Michael happily. "I think us'n'us is done here! Let's go!" The rogue grinned eerily at the hulking figure of Shadow Clan's deputy. The damage was done already. He just positioned himself so, to not let it be found out. Fire merrily crackled on the part of Sunkissed furthest from the body of water. Dickens cackled joyfully. The flames were just nice, difficult to put out given the amount of cats around. As in, they didn't have those 'bucket' things around, did they? "Oh, farewell, my dear brethren! Let's give ya a push in the right direction: Thunder," the tom continued, carefully choosing his words. He flicked his raggedy tail, motioning for Michael to follow, and in the same movement, leapt into the water nearby, paddling lopsidedly away, still laughing.
Whiteheart's head flicked towards the deputy and the enforcer, tail rising in greeting, though his brow still furrowed anxiously. Intruders, did Brokentalon say? Oh, Vulturefang had unearthed them. Never mind, they were gone. Now he could smell something... Weird. Just a really really weird scent. Like something was burning... Nah. Probably his imagination, he was forever overthinking, wasn't he? He peered carefully into the smoky-scented underbrush, poking cautiously at the plants. Whiteheart narrowed his eyes, trying to decide if the plant he was staring at was chickweed. And then the flames burst out at the warrior, choking him with smoke. He staggered back, watching the fire eat everything in its path. He dropped the yellow bells he was carrying. The creek the creek the creek HOW WAS HE GOING TO DROP THE CREEK ON THE FIRE AAAAA The tom snatched up the biggest leaf he could find, dipping it into the water body and watching the few droplets left as he limped back fizzle in the flaming heat. Sparks caught on his pelt and he shied away, running to repeat the process, flicking water with his white-tipped tail as well, though he made little difference. Panic submerged the warrior and he fought to breathe. The air was choking him already and the fire hadn't even grown out of that piece of territory.
Dickens smiled cheerily at Vulturefang. What a welcome he was receiving! "One sec, I'll be with ya inna momento," he said, then turning to Michael happily. "I think us'n'us is done here! Let's go!" The rogue grinned eerily at the hulking figure of Shadow Clan's deputy. The damage was done already. He just positioned himself so, to not let it be found out. Fire merrily crackled on the part of Sunkissed furthest from the body of water. Dickens cackled joyfully. The flames were just nice, difficult to put out given the amount of cats around. As in, they didn't have those 'bucket' things around, did they? "Oh, farewell, my dear brethren! Let's give ya a push in the right direction: Thunder," the tom continued, carefully choosing his words. He flicked his raggedy tail, motioning for Michael to follow, and in the same movement, leapt into the water nearby, paddling lopsidedly away, still laughing.
Whiteheart's head flicked towards the deputy and the enforcer, tail rising in greeting, though his brow still furrowed anxiously. Intruders, did Brokentalon say? Oh, Vulturefang had unearthed them. Never mind, they were gone. Now he could smell something... Weird. Just a really really weird scent. Like something was burning... Nah. Probably his imagination, he was forever overthinking, wasn't he? He peered carefully into the smoky-scented underbrush, poking cautiously at the plants. Whiteheart narrowed his eyes, trying to decide if the plant he was staring at was chickweed. And then the flames burst out at the warrior, choking him with smoke. He staggered back, watching the fire eat everything in its path. He dropped the yellow bells he was carrying. The creek the creek the creek HOW WAS HE GOING TO DROP THE CREEK ON THE FIRE AAAAA The tom snatched up the biggest leaf he could find, dipping it into the water body and watching the few droplets left as he limped back fizzle in the flaming heat. Sparks caught on his pelt and he shied away, running to repeat the process, flicking water with his white-tipped tail as well, though he made little difference. Panic submerged the warrior and he fought to breathe. The air was choking him already and the fire hadn't even grown out of that piece of territory.
Michael nodded and went onto the other side before using his shard of glass to spread the flames further.
Brokentalon's eyes widened at the sight and he grabbed a nearby tub made by humans before filling the tub and using it to put out the flames. "WHAT IN STARCLAN'S NAME IS WRONG WITH HIM?!" he growled at Michael and Dickens.
Michael nodded and went onto the other side before using his shard of glass to spread the flames further.
Brokentalon's eyes widened at the sight and he grabbed a nearby tub made by humans before filling the tub and using it to put out the flames. "WHAT IN STARCLAN'S NAME IS WRONG WITH HIM?!" he growled at Michael and Dickens.
Dickens returned by land, dragging an Upright's pail along almost cheerfully. He hid it in the undergrowth not far off, then scrounged up some dry twigs and leaves, padding ditzily with them." Yo Scarry (Vulturefang)! Watch this," and he threw them not far from the flickering flames, watching them alight and sputter to life, crackling merrily. His seemingly drunken grin flashed as he watched the patrolling cats scurry to put the flames out. "The Thunder has struck! The Thunder has struck!" The rogue cackled, observing Michael from his peripheral vision. Thick smoke emerged from the multiple small fires, and Dickens retreated slightly, to a more preferable position, where he was safe from the danger he had brought with his arrival. He called Michael over as well, so they would both be able to safely watch the proceedings.
"Brokentalin! Take these herbs, please l. Give them to Elmshad-" Whiteheart broke off, choking on the heavy smoke, stumbling. Yellow bells hung limply in his Jaws, the precious herbs he had sought for. Visibility had grown worse, and the sheen of the creek was slowly disappearing. His lungs fought for breath, causing the tom to go hacking away like mad. He blinked slowly.The addition to the fire, courtesy of the two rogues, had just made it even more irritating. Individual tiny fires were sprouting like rabbits. Sparks crackled and spat at the warrior and caught on his lame leg, unable to shift it in time. He totally did not see the small fire he had dragged himself into. And the flames grew, eating up flesh. Whiteheart could barely feel it, his nerves in said leg non-functional. Panic bloomed as the tiny fire blossomed, leg disappearing in smoke. Whattodowhattodowhattodo... He rolled, hoping that would extinguish the hungry flames, though it was minimal. It worked and yet... The damage was done. The warrior's lame leg hung in a stub, unbalancing him. The creek was all he could think of as he staggered blindly, coughing.
Dickens returned by land, dragging an Upright's pail along almost cheerfully. He hid it in the undergrowth not far off, then scrounged up some dry twigs and leaves, padding ditzily with them." Yo Scarry (Vulturefang)! Watch this," and he threw them not far from the flickering flames, watching them alight and sputter to life, crackling merrily. His seemingly drunken grin flashed as he watched the patrolling cats scurry to put the flames out. "The Thunder has struck! The Thunder has struck!" The rogue cackled, observing Michael from his peripheral vision. Thick smoke emerged from the mini inferno, and Dickens retreated slightly, to a more preferable position, where he was safe from the danger he had brought with his arrival. He called Michael over as well, so they would both be able to safely watch the proceedings.
"Brokentalin! Take these herbs, please l. Give them to Elmshad-" Whiteheart broke off, choking on the heavy smoke, stumbling. Yellow bells hung limply in his Jaws, the precious herbs he had sought for. Visibility had grown worse, and the sheen of the creek was slowly disappearing. His lungs fought for breath, causing the tom to go hacking away like mad. He blinked slowly.The addition to the fire, courtesy of the two rogues, had just made it worse. Sparks crackled and spat at the warrior and caught on his lame leg, unable to shift it in time. And the flames grew, eating up flesh. Whiteheart could barely feel it, his nerves in said leg non-functional. Panic bloomed as the tiny fire blossomed, leg disappearing in smoke. Whattodowhattodowhattodo... He rolled, hoping that would extinguish the hungry flames, though it was minimal. It worked and yet... The damage was done. The warrior's lame leg hung in a stub, unbalancing him. The creek was all he could think of as he staggered blindly, coughing.
Michael nodded excitedly and ran over to Dickens.
"I'm not leaving you here to die! A clanmate's life is more important than some dumb herbs!" Brokentalon's valiant meow suddenly cut through the air as he rushed to whiteheart's side.
Brokentalon wasn't Leaving a clanmate to die. Not in a trillion moons. He grabbed the whiteheart by his scruff and managed to put out the fire on whiteheart's leg- with some effort. Afterwards, he assisted whiteheart in standing up and quickly helped the cat back to camp.
Snakestorm led Vulturefang around, stopping to sniff the air for prey and then resuming to canter. He stopped in a place where the water had many minnows. ''I'll try to fish, you hunt whatever'' He said almost lazyly, he just wanted to be done with this.
Snakestorm led Vulturefang around, stopping to sniff the air for prey and then resuming to canter. He stopped in a place where the water had many minnows. ''I'll try to fish, you hunt whatever'' He said almost lazyly, he just wanted to be done with this.
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Without any other words, he let Snakestorm lead them out into the territory. This guy wasn't much of a chatter it seemed, which was particularly relieving as he was in the mood for silence. After walking for a bit, he halted beside the tom. Huh? He wanted to fish? "Well I'll be damned." he said while shaking his head in mild surprise. " You do you then, I'll meet ya back here." dismissing himself, he wandered further into the undergrowth.
After taking an appropriate distance, the massive deputy scanned the dying foliage for movement. This went in vain though, as he eventually gave up and began to rely on his weaker sense. Smell. Letting the scents engulf his tongue, he began to track what he believed was a rabbit, but was ultimately left disappointed when it turned out to be a quail. Stifling a sigh, he decided to commit to the hunt. Broad shoulders rolling, he then lunged; unsheathed claws catching the bird. Dispatching it with a quick bite to the neck, he moved on.
More fruitless searching eventually led him to another piece of prey. Eyes flickering to the thrush, Vulturefang wheeled around down wind before taking position. After meandering closer, he halted. The bird hadn't noticed his position, so it was time to take action. Leaping forward his teeth crunched around the birds wing before it could take to the sky. Killing it, and then turned to retrieve his other catch. After he had collected everything, he began his way back. Snakestorm came into veiw, and he took a slower pace; not wanting to alarm him and his own activities. "Alhight-" he began, voice muffled by his catches " I'm hall done'." taking a seat, he waited patiently for the other tom to finish.
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" Death is not mercurial. It's patient... unlike life."
While the deputy hunted, Snakestorm patiently waited for minnows to come to his reach. When they were close enough, the warrior as fast as a snake biting into it's prey, he hooked the fish with the claws. It surely took some time and a few splashes, but by trial and error he learnt how to catch minnows. When Vulturefang finished, Snakestorm already had a bunch of the tiny fish. Five fish to be exactly. He tried to catch one more but failed and decided to take the minnows to the camp. ''Also done. Let's head back'' He said, and let the deputy lead him this time.
@elaif
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Re: Sunkissed Creek
