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Post by Otter on Jun 14, 2010 22:16:39 GMT -5
Hungry. Still hungry. Stomach grumbled like distant thunder. Blasted forest. At least Brain didn't laugh at her or rub her failure in her face--if he had, he would have found his ears shredded before he could blink. As it was, she appreciated his calling her "decent" and not "great" or "good". At least he was still being honest.
They moved on, the scent of the mouse's blood still clinging to Brain's muzzle though he had licked it clean. Wind maneuvered herself to the other side of the loner so that she was upwind of his scent. Shut up, stomach. You've just got to wait a little longer and we'll have some rabbit, she thought, giving her belly a swift glare and nearly tripping over a stone in the process. Tail lashing, she silently stepped over the little rock and repressed a hiss of annoyance.
“How many generations of your family have lived on the moors?”
"How many...?" she began in bewilderment before allowing her voice to trail off. What kind of question is that? "I have no idea," she managed at last, shooting the tomcat a bemused glance. In fact, it had never in her life occured to her to ask Spruce about his parents and where he had grown up. "It's just Spruce and I right now."
What a bizarre cat this Brain was. Who asked questions like that? Not that she disliked him for it, it was just...different. Odd. He asked questions about things she had never even thought of before. Was he trying to be confusing, or was this just the way he was? She figured the latter.
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Post by Solo on Jun 14, 2010 22:28:26 GMT -5
B R A I N Brain was disappointed when she couldn’t answer his question, but he didn’t allow that to darken his mood. In a chipper voice (probably strange-sounding coming from him), he explained the reasoning behind asking her.
“I’ve noticed that some kittypets who call themselves purebred look about the same—their whole families have short tails, or folded ears, or some other attribute that keeps getting passed down. It follows that, if your family always lived in the moors, it would be bred into you. An ancestor would have been speedy, which would be good for living in the plains like you say, and that would be passed down. It would be like a breed of—of—”
Groping for a word, the black-spotted tom knew that he likely sounded stupid or insane. Few cats understood how his active mind worked. At last, he glanced at her and heaved a sigh of defeat when he couldn’t find any suitable word in his vocabulary.
“A breed of… Wind-cats,” Brain said lamely.
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Post by Otter on Jun 14, 2010 22:40:23 GMT -5
The wiry brown she-cat stopped; it was too hard to pay close attention to her pawsteps and listen to these bizarre words at the same time. She tilted her head to one side and gave Brain a blank, what-the-heck-is-wrong-with-you kind of stare for a good few seconds before realizing she was probably being rude; she tore her confused gaze from him and forced herself to adopt a less idiotic expression.
"A breed of Wind-cats..." she mewed in bewilderment, tail-tip twitching as she tried to make some sense of his odd ramblings. What had caused this cat's mind to work so much differently than hers? Than any other cat she had ever spoken to? "A breed of Wind-cats..." she repeated, the thought forming more and more clealry in her mind as she thought about it.
Well, he was right; Spruce had passed down his speed to her, and no doubt he had gotten his own wiry body from one or both of his parents. And if she ever had kits...that was a disturbing thought in and of itself, and Wind shook her head roughly to knock it out. She was not on the market for a mate, nor did she have any interest in producing Wind-kits.
I wonder...maybe all cats of a certian build are descended from certain cats? Maybe Brain and I share an ancestor? Maybe we share a great-grandfather with other cats, too? The thought was intriguing, and it gave way to the question of what would happen if all these Wind-cats got together...but then her belly rumbled once more, turning her attention back to practical matters. Thinking about heritage didn't feed her. "You...are a strange cat," she mewed after a moment, fixing her eyes back on her feet as she began to move off again. "What makes you wonder about such things?"
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Post by Solo on Jun 14, 2010 22:52:51 GMT -5
B R A I N Wind … didn’t get it.
Her blank stare was testimony to that, though luckily Brain was used enough to such a look that he wasn’t greatly bothered by it. He stopped after her screeching halt and circled back around to stand in front of her, tipping his head to the side as if checking her out from another angle would tell him she was okay. She echoed his last phrase a couple of times, and with great excitement he saw something click in her mind before she shook the thought process away and started walking again.
“You … are a strange cat. What makes you wonder about such things?”
Brain, focused on the ratio between their strides, took a moment to register that she was speaking to him and glanced over at her in bewilderment. After a few more awkward moments of thought, he mewed, “I hit my head on a rock when I was little.” Another, too-long pause, and he barked out a laugh at his kidding remark. He didn’t know that robots couldn’t tell jokes.
Immediately, however, his expression shifted from a vaguely amused one to one of aggression. He stopped and thrust his black tail out to the side, in front of her, to signal her to stop. “I smell a fox,” he hissed in her ear.
A change had visibly come over him—with gritted teeth, narrowed pupils, and bristling fur, he actually looked formidable rather than the awkward cat with unusually refined thoughts. This was survival mode, able to be called up in a heartbeat thanks to frequent battles with alley cat gangs on the street. There was no more long speeches about genetics or failed attempts at socializing. Now there was a predator out there, and they needed to make a split decision about what they were going to do.
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Post by Otter on Jun 16, 2010 14:43:27 GMT -5
Brain's words coaxed a light snort of amusement from Wind's throat, but she jumped visibly as he began to laugh. She shot him a confused, amused glance as she thought in surprise, This monotoned tom has a sense of humor? She was preparing to comment on this when an all-too familiar scent reached her nostrils. Brain had caught it first, and Wind wrinkled her nose in annoyance as he stuck out his tail to stop her, as if he expected her to blunder right into the fox like a little kit. "Look, tom-" she began, but cut herself off with a sharp shake of her head. Now was not the time to argue.
As the fur along Wind's spine bristled and her claws shot forth, a transformation seemed to be coming over her skinny, black-and-white companion. This was not the monotoned, calculating cat she had been speaking to; no, this was a fierce, feral cat that caused the ragged red collar to appear completely, and totally out of place, even moreso than before.
Again, now was not the time to stop. Ears pricking forward and eyes narrowing, Wind searched the foliage for the fox. Another reason this place sucks! she thought in horror, tail lashing as she glanced this way and that. On the moors we would have been able to see exactly where this beast is!
"Get down!" she hissed, lowering her body into a crouch. Though she could not pinpoint the scent, there was no mistaking that the fox was close...only a few rabbit-hops away. Turning her eyes on Brain, she growled quietly, "Listen, Brain, I will fight this fox if we have to. But this is not my land and I have no interest in fighting if we can avoid it." There was no cowardice in her voice, just a cold reality; she did not intend on defending this place that was not her own. Let the forest-dwellers deal with the fox. But...if Brain attacked, Wind knew she would, too. There was no honor in leaving another cat to fight a fox alone.
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Post by Solo on Jun 16, 2010 18:14:13 GMT -5
B R A I N Wind reacted irritably when he stopped her, but the white and black tomcat hardly heard her cut-off retort. She bristled at the scent of the fox and looked around anxiously for some sign of the creature. Luckily, the vulpine musk was enough to make up for the lack of vision, and Brain was well prepared to launch himself in the direction of the bushy-tailed brute once he pinpointed its location from anything--a sound, a flash of tawny-ginger fur.
The she-cat ordered him to get down and spoke urgently to him, explaining that she’d rather not risk a fight but would if she had to. Brain, meanwhile, had only hunkered down in the grass with great reluctance and hesitation. The fighting spirit was in him now, and he had felt the hint of territorial instinct. He had lived in these woods for a few days and hunted here, and if things didn’t work out in the moorlands, he didn’t want to come back to a fox den in his hunting grounds.
Would Wind understand if he attacked? It seemed the few emotions this cat truly, strongly felt were aggressive ones, though he’d never stopped to analyze it. Part of it came with his tendency to constantly move. “All right,” he growled, sounding strained. “We’ll keep still and hope the fox doesn’t notice…” He knew to run would be fatal in this situation, for while he might be able to outrun the creature a few tail-lengths, it wouldn’t be long before both cats, not entirely used to the treacherous woodland floor, were overtaken.
To calm down, he found himself counting, slowly and carefully. One… Two… Three--
Brain had been counting the unconscious sweeps of his tail, and on the third one a harsh sound barked out beside them. Something crashed through the screen of ferns, and the fox snarled as it saw the cats.
Immediately, Brain jumped up and arched his back, hissing fiercely, hoping to intimidate, but the fox had its amber eyes locked on Wind. When it turned its head, the skinny white tom jumped at its neck, clinging with his paws and attempting to sink his teeth in, while the bigger predator twisted to bite him.
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Post by Otter on Jun 17, 2010 14:19:15 GMT -5
The tom didn't like the idea of hiding, that much was clear, but Wind was not prepared to take back her words. She crouched low, her wiry brown form blending in with the soil around her as her yellow eyes darted back and forth for any sign of movement in the underbrush. She was scared--her heart beat rapidly, her tail-tip twitched uneasily, and her ears were flattened against her skull. Out on the moors, she would have been perfectly comfortable; she knew she could outrun a fox on her own territory, with nothing to trip her up or hide either she or the fox. But here was land she was not used to, and she knew moorland fighting techniques did not apply here.
Tension crackled through the air like a visible current, and, then, all at once, chaos ensued. An uproarous crashing announced the approach of the dreaded creature, and with a snarl Wind whipped around in time to see the fox lunge for her. She sprang backwards in plenty of time, but Brain had already lunged forward, fastening himself to the fox's neck.
Fantastic. I hate this place, she thought as she sprang forward with a snarl.
If the fox had not been so focused on Brain, it would not have been so easy. As it was, Wind sprang lightly onto the rugged, red creature's back and dug her claws into the thick fur. With a ferocious hiss she sank her teeth into the back of the fox's neck. The creature bucked and shook, trying to shake the two cats, but Wind's claws became entangled in the beast's thick fur, and, unable to let go, she battered at his back with her hind claws.
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Post by Solo on Jun 17, 2010 14:57:34 GMT -5
B R A I N Brain focused on keeping his grip on the side of the neck, latching on with claws and teeth, but he had underestimated the flexibility of the predator. He could feel fangs graze his side and lightly brush the skin, but it stopped with a yowl of anger and started thrashing about. Ears flattened and claws not relinquishing their grip, the spotted tomcat glanced up at Wind, who had sprung onto the back of the fox. He tasted blood and, with this small victory, swung his hind legs up to scratch the creature's chest, staining the white patch there with crimson.
The fox knew that it was beaten, with two small animals it had not expected to attack clinging to it. However, with both hanging on with a vengeance, it could not flee. A few alarmed cries burst from its throat, but when its flight was compromised the instinct of fight kicked back in, and it twisted its head finally to grab Brain in its jaws.
He could feel teeth digging into his scruff and jerk him off its neck and shoulder. When the fox didn't immediately let go, Brain could feel immense panic building inside him. The loose skin that his mother had carried him by as a kit now tugged hard against his windpipe, making it harder to breathe, and coupled with a few furious shakes of the fox's head, he was left delirious.
"Get its eyes -- let go -- " Brain coughed before he was flung onto the ground finally. It took a few moments for him to regain his breath, five failed gasps in fact, and he stared worriedly at Wind on the animal's red back.
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Post by Otter on Jun 17, 2010 15:11:51 GMT -5
Claws snagged, teeth gripping the back of the fox's neck for dear life, Wind felt the fox's body twist but did not see him grab Brain. Only when the black-and-white tomcat rasped a few words did Wind realize something was happening, and she opened her jaws to peer down over the fox's head.
It had Brain by the scruff, and was shaking roughly. Wind released a startled hiss, but even as it left her mouth the fox threw Brain to the ground. There was not time to see if he was okay; Wind yowled in surprise as the fox jerked its body this way and that, flopping her back and forth like a rag doll as she tried to free her tangled claws.
Finally, the beast gave such a hard yank of its body that her claws were torn free, taking with them chunks of red fur, and Wind was thrown to the side. Startled but no worse for the wear, the wiry brown she-cat scrambled to her paws and hissed as the fox turned to face her and Brain. Fluffing up her thin fur in an attempt to look bigger, she bared her teeth and growled as dangerously as she could.
Not for fear of her, but rather for fear of the combination of two small and surprisngly-fierce cats, the fox backed away. It was a lone male, had no kits or a mate to protect, but had hoped to find an easy meal in the cats. When he was proven wrong, the fox backed quickly away, finally disappearing into the underbrush.
Panting as adrenaline surged through her, Wind turned to Brain, eyes traveling over his body as she searched for wounds. She herself bore none but a few bruises from being thrown, as she had been safely on top of the creature, but Brain did not appear to be so lucky. "Alive?" she asked, not wanting to show too much concern; she knew she would be annoyed if any cat worried about her own wounds.
The fight came back to her in waves, and she shook her head slightly as she saw in her mind's eye Brain transforming before her. Moments before scenting the fox he had been a monotoned, less-than-exciting, emotionless feline leading her away from the woods, but in a split second he had changed into a fierce and, as proven by the fight, dangerous feral tomcat set on defending himself. A strange and unexpected change, to be sure.
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Post by Solo on Jun 17, 2010 18:41:05 GMT -5
B R A I N The white tom crouched, coughing, and watched the wiry brown tabby as she was thrown from the creature's back. She hissed and puffed herself up, bravely facing against the fox. Apparently deciding they weren't worth the trouble, the fox turned tail and fled into the bushes, leaving both panting cats alone.
Wind looked him over quickly. "Alive?"
Brain stared back at her. "Apparently so." He rocked himself to his paws and tried to flatten his still-bristling fur. He attempted to categorize his injuries, calmly turning to look at his side and attempting to feel what hurt. Luckily, the rush of adrenaline had already calmed as he crouched in the grass, and he could feel his injuries more accurately. His scruff was smarting from where the fox had grabbed him, and twin trickles of blood streamed won the sides of his neck. Other than that, he was roughed up and sore, but not dying.
"How did you like your forest fight? First time for everything, I guess." His voice had returned to its monotone, accompanied with a faint smile before he turned to look over his shoulder. "Are there foxes on the moor?"
ooc; sucky post, sorry!
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Post by Otter on Jun 17, 2010 19:05:48 GMT -5
((This one's pretty bad, too x.x))
As the tom coolly looked himself over for scars, Wind turned her gaze back in the direction the fox had fled. Would it come back? Not likely; foxes were smart enough to know how to avoid getting injured. Not like it mattered if he came back, anyway; Wind would be long gone from this accursed place if she had any say in the matter.
When she turned back to Brain, the wiry she-cat spotted small streams of blood running down his neck. She padded over and gave the wound a closer study, whereupon she decided it was not as bad as it looked...but probably hurt like the dickens. Inwardly she applauded Brain for not showing any pain.
"My first and last," she grunted in response, shooting one last glare towards the long-gone fox. "There are foxes, but there's nothing for them to hide behind. If they want to fight, they have to face a cat head-on...and most cats on the moors can outrun foxes." She felt a twinge of pride at this, and sent a hostile thought to the fox, If you show up on my turf, you stalking little coward, I'll give you a far better show. We'll see how tough you are when I know you're coming.
Even as she thought this, another scent of fox reached her nose, this time a vixen, and Wind tensed immediately. "Let's get out of here," she growled, narrowed eyes scanning the underbrush as she struck out in the direction they had been heading. She could only hope they didn't encounter any more horrors here.
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Post by Solo on Jun 17, 2010 19:55:45 GMT -5
B R A I N The black-spotted white tomcat tensed when his companion approached to give him a closer look, though he met her eyes without any sign of distress or unease. He simply wasn't used to close contact with other cats except through fighting. However, she didn't seem to be the affectionate sort, so he was spared any awkward moment of having his wounds fussed over. Oddly enough, while he could understand the reasons and instincts of these cats upset over his injuries, he hardly felt the same toward them. He had been worried when Wind was alone on the back of the fox, sure, but --
There was no point in dwelling on what was illogical and what he couldn't understand. Concern was concern, and whether it chose to show up in the tom or not was a toss-up.
Wind, meanwhile, assured him that she wasn't going to be battling in the forest any more. He couldn't blame her. While hunting in unfamiliar surroundings was one thing, being hunted was another. She explained that she could have outrun a fox on the moor, and he nodded in understanding. With his head, he knew that avoiding fights was the best option, but his body and intense instincts were another thing altogether. "It sounds easy," he said, indirectly seeing what other challenges were present. He very well knew that a loner's life could never be called easy, but maybe suggesting that would provoke this she-cat into explaining more about her life.
He saw the wiry tabby tense before he, also, smelled the fox. He nodded wordlessly and trotted alongside her, careful to keep his ears constantly turning, attempting to keep his steps quiet but brisk.
Eventually, the trees began to thin. He noted with amazement that he'd never been this far before. His face, usually rather conservative with emotions, lit up like a kitten who'd caught his first mouse. He quickly looked around and then stared at the she-cat. "Can you tell which way the moor is now?" he asked breathlessly. He could see a mass of grey, perhaps stones, to the west, and to the north -- though interrupted by another mass of trees -- seemed to stretch on forever.
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Post by Otter on Jun 17, 2010 20:10:20 GMT -5
"It sounds easy."
Wind narrowed her eyes slightly at the words, wondering what he was referring to. Did he believe moor life was easy, or was he simply saying that fighting foxes there was easy? The latter was true, at least in Wind's opinion; she found great pleasure in being able to use her speed and agility to fight blasted predators such as foxes. But the former...living on the moors was no walk in the park.
"I guess you could call it easy," she mewed, keeping her eyes trained on the forest before her so she would not trip. "It's easy to fight and run away, and for me it's easy to hunt. But it's impossible to hide, and the only shelter from the elements are abandoned rabbit holes or badger setts. And those can collapse in heavy weather." If he decides to stay there, he ought to know, she decided, shooting Brain a quick glance. I guess he doesn't have a father to teach him.
She stopped speaking, tail twitching slightly as the trees began to thin. The extra sunlight reaching the forest floor caused even more underbrush to grow in this area, but at least she could see over most bushes now, and the fewer tree trunks meant she could see further. It took one glance at Brain to realize that this was all new to the tomcat, and Wind even managed to feel a twinge of amusement at the excited look on the normally-expressionless tom's face.
The wiry she-cat stopped walking, opening her mouth to allow the forest scents to wash over her. She closed her eyes, concentrating. Finally, the scent she longed to smell came to her, and Wind's yellow eyes shot open. Earthy, loamy, musky...the scent of the moors. Very faint and very distant, but there nonetheless, and coming from a distinct direction. Belly rumbling uproarously at the thought of rabbit, Wind gave Brain a decisive nod and moved off in the direction of the moorlands, moving furiatingly slow through the thick underbrush.
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Post by Solo on Jun 17, 2010 21:38:30 GMT -5
B R A I N The tom saw the change of her expression, the cut of her eyes, and knew that he would get his answer. She explained that there was no cover which, while she'd praised the moors for the lack of cover before, did appear to be a problem. He couldn't imagine the storms, either. Though forest fires caused by lightning strikes were threats here, at least there was shelter from the wind and rain. He nodded at her though he wasn't going to let this new information deter him from investigating her home territory thoroughly.
"I guess cover helps as much as it hinders," Brain mewed. "You're at a disadvantage either way. Though the lack of dens is concerning, and I can't imagine not having a tree to climb up if a dog comes." He shrugged then smiled faintly. "Though I'm sure you could outrun or beat a dog." Without any real tone in his voice, it was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic, but he didn't think to clarify. Instead, he focused on the path ahead while marveling at how cats could adapt to living in such a wide open space.
Wind paused as the trees thin and sniffed the air. Apparently she'd found what she'd been scenting and nodded at him, continuing her walk. Fur tingling with excitement, he followed...
ooc: The next post could be them arriving in the moorlands, if you don't want her to reply to the dialog. Or we could make that new thread. I don't care. ^^
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Post by Otter on Jun 17, 2010 21:50:54 GMT -5
Brain's expressionless words fell on deaf ears as the wiry brown she-cat fought her way through the underbrush. She knew where she was going, and that was enough to spur the hungry loner into as fast a pace as she could manage here. Eventually, Wind grew too restless, and she began to leap from rock-to-rock, stump-to-stump, and log-to-log whenever possible, which was not often. Even so, the change of movement sped her up a decent amount, and her heart began to lift as she neared her home.
At long last, they were there. The forest just disappeared, coming to an abrupt stop that had made many cats wonder. A deep, rumbling purr burst from the she-cat's throat as she gazed out across the seemingly endless field of short, green grass. From here her yellow eyes could catch the sight of tawny rabbits hopping here and there, tall ears alert for signs of danger as they nibbled seeds.
For a moment, Wind forgot she was in the company of a newcomer. She fixed her eyes on the closest rabbit and moved off, stalking swiftly and lightly across the open field. Salking was not terribly important; speed was what mattered, and when the rabbit finally caught sight of her and darted away, the hungry she-cat raced off after him, stretching her long, skinny legs in as large of a stride as she could.
Though weakened from hunger, Wind's joy at finally coming home was enough to propel her powerfully forward. She came closer to the rabbit and, without breaking stride, sprang forward and knocked it down with a forepaw. It jumped up and began to run again, but Wind was on it now; she batted it down once more and sank her fangs into the rabbit's neck.
Now she remembered her companion, and Wind lifted the large rabbit in her jaws before trotting back to join Brain. She wondered, briefly, what he had thought of her way of hunting, but she was too hungry to think much of it. "Rabbits are too big to eat alone. If you're hungry, have some. Have you tasted moor rabbit before?" she mewed as she took a bite out of the still-warm body. Beloved flavors burst in her mouth, and the she-cat's tail curled joyously as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the taste. Her stomach rumbled, forcing her to swallow quickly and take several more large, rapid bites. Only then, when she had curbed her hunger, did she slow down and savor the prey.
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