Cat&Company

[windspirit]

Another warm breeze-less day was encroaching over the horizon. The crimson-orange rays of light spreading further and further into the valley, warming everything touched. At the one side of the scene there was a large forest, many trees hiding many creatures, and opposite was a steep slope, heading towards potentially precarious mountains.
This morning, barely indistinguishable from the mass of grey either side of it, a large bluey-grey tomcat could be seen limping steadily up the hill. He was a big tom for his age, carrying the extra weight of a squirrel in his jaws as he padded along at his own rhythm. A fine feline he was indeed. Well muscled, good looking and with barely a scratch on him (his limp was an old wound, now healed, that barely impaired his day-to-day life), this cats name was Whitestone and he was hoping to join StoneClan. -oh the irony! =)-

He didn't really know what to do with the squirrel. He'd caught it for himself but found his stomach was already writhing with nerves and wouldn't manage a squirrel as well. His second thought was to give it to StoneClan as a humble gift.. but then he decided that would probably insult them, making out they couldn't catch their own food. So, as the morning grew on, Whitestone found himself still dragging along the squirrels carcass, such indignity for it, even in death, but he was not one to waste anything.

His deep blue eyes wandered aimlessly as he continued to trudge up the steep slope, his pace had now slowed and he was beginning to get out of breath.
'Summ wai teh git teh kahmp..' he mumbled over a mouthful of squirrel tail, thus gagging on the fur and causing him to have to drop it for a few minutes so he could produce a warm, glistening hairball.

Pleasant.

After such a disgusting interruption, he picked up the squirrel again (this time by its neck) and kept on plodding, his limp now more pronounced than ever, worsened because he was tired. The beautiful sun had completely cleared the horizon by the time Whitestone had reached the crest of the hill, though the floor was still not entirely flat.
He shuffled off to the side of the rocks where a low slung bush was vainly trying to grow. He put down his catch, breath steadying, and sat to attention, right foreleg raised from the ground so as not to put too much weight on it. Just waiting, letting the morning drift right on past him..

[windspirit]

(OoC: Geez that text colour's quite strong isn't it? =/ I'll change to something subtler while he waits..)

[Snowstar]

<sub>While his coat was blue-grey, he might have blended well with the surrounding rocks, with it's greys and brown's and whites. Still, few movements escaped Snowstar's notice, and this one was no exception.

There was a tall standing rock that leaned upright, almost defying grafity, held in place by several other boulders. Though it seemed impossible to get to from the ground up, Snowstar knew how to scale the mountain beside it, and with her petite body she was able well to leap upon it's peak and balance there. It was here that Snowstar often stayed sentinel, a lonely black figure against the drab colors of grey.

For Snowstar was in fact her name. And hearing her name, one would assume that she was white. But she was the opposite; a lithe and graceful creature with a single black marking upon her chest. For that was her name before she became leader; Snowstripe.

From her post, Snowstar had noticed him coming for some time, but she remained for a few more minutes to study his movements. He seemed hurt, but even more important, he didn't seem to be a threat, though he carried a heavy weight in his mouth. One thing Snowstar was known for was her fearlessness, and it was this trait she had as she flew off the peak of the rock quite suddenly, landing with neat posture among the rocks, before she silently, quickly, and with ease, rushed down the mountain to greet the stranger.

Even if the squirrel was meant as an offering, and even though prey was becoming plentiful, she would never say no to prey, and would never take offense. Especially since squirrel came rarely up into the rocky mountains so far into their hunting grounds.

She trotted a couple more paces before leaning her head over the edge of the rock, her feet firmly in place, to watch him. Greetings, tom She said mildly, tilting her head to the side, tail grazing the dusty floor before. What can I do for you on this sunny afternoon?</sub>

[windspirit]

The chartreux had barely settled down to wait before a lithe black she-cat appeared above him, so quickly and suddenly she might as well have materialised from thin air. He craned his head back to look up at her on the rocks, swivelling his butt around so that he was face on to her. He bowed deeply, still trying to keep his paw off the ground, and looked back at the she-cat with his dark blue eyes.

'Greetings' he meowed in his deep tones, 'Please forgive my trespass onto your territory but I wish to find a Clan. A strong and loyal one which can offer me a good life. I hear such a thing exists here' it was quite a blatant ask of acceptance but the respect and good manners within the toms speech was enough to assure any cat that the words he spoke were sincere. Whitestone didn't suck up to anyone for any reason, he intensely disliked that particular art.

'Should it not offend you, I bring this prey as an offering of friendship' he added, finally making up his mind about what to do withthe large squirrel and pointing his nose at it as he spoke.