-- walking a lonely road { open }

[→ bearclaw]

bearclaw

The last threads of leaf-bare were melting away from the  territories, the past hardships seeming like a past memory. Although there had been losses during the cold and starvation, the clans had survived like always, and thus began a time of new flourish. This new-leaf had been well awaited, and such could be seen in the way the clan cats stalked their prey, slow and steady, but with much skill and patience. In fact, such was the case with a tom, who shouldered his way through the darkness of TempestClan territory, and into ever eerie presence of the border. His ears were pricked and his nostrils were flared, prepared to pick up the scents of possible intruders or prey. Although the large tom was better at fighting than hunting, he still went through the same training as every other apprentice, and knew how to hunt in order to protect his clan. The sun was just beginning to peak above the tree line, though just barely visible in the darkness that loomed over the bordering trees.

Not wanting to waste his time, the tom scented the air and moved on. His muscles rippled under his thick, dark brown pelt, which appeared black in the encompassing shadows. Bold yellow eyes leered out from behind bushes and shrubs, his paw steps silent albeit slow. For a fleeting moment, the tom could scent a VertigoClan cat, but his hackles remained flat. Perhaps they had recently scent a patrol through the area. The trees began to thin out as he padded onward, his paws unusually heavy. His pace picked up as he broke through the treeline, emerging just on the bank of a tiny, delicate stream. A tuft of fur clung to one of the relatively large boulders that littered the stream, the scent unrecognizable. The tom sneered. Why does VertigoClan even bother hanging out around here. They know we'll just shred them. With the thought, the bear-like tom flexed his claws into the soft, fleshy dirt of the bank. A brief memory of a battle surged through his mind, and he shook his head, trudging onward.

Perhaps he should have been back at camp, offering to go on a border patrol. Or perhaps he should be taking care of the elders. I really despise when they start rambling about the 'good-ol-days.' The tom thought. Narrowly avoiding stepping into the stream, he padded down the bank until the scent marker that divided the territories flooded his nostrils. He stopped a mere fox-length before the marker, turning to face the stream that had grown significantly in both width and depth. His ears still pricked, the tom peered down into the water, his bright eyes reflecting back at him. Without warning, a wave of memories rushed over him, threatening to knock him over. Steadying himself, the tom continued to gaze into the water, remember what once was.

[glaciersky]

Gathering moss was an apprentice duty, and, last he'd checked, Glaciersky hadn't been an apprentice for a good two moons. So why had he been saddled with a menial task like this? Well, maybe the warrior did deserve the low-grade punishment, after all, he couldn't just keep forgetting which patrols he was assigned to before someone got angry. Still, moss gathering was a tad irritating to put up with. It wasn't as though the elders needed even more nest-lining than usual, if anything they could go with less now that they were in the thick of the warmer seasons. And it was doubtful that the medicine cat couldn't keep up with maintaining their own supplies. Not that there was any sense in arguing the point. An order was an order whether he liked it or not, and the most he could do was be quick about fulfilling said orders and getting back on the good sides of the clan's higher-ups. There was one problem though: where to get a good bundle of the material so that he didn't have to make several trips. 

The slim feline let his feet guide him where they pleased as he mused over his predicament. 'Apprentices liked to gather as near the camp as possible, so that's out of the question. But then there's so much boggy territory further out... that'd make for terrible stuff to bring back. Likely get my ears clawed and be sent out again.' Lost in thought, he failed to notice the change in terrain underpaw, from slightly soggy terrain to firmer ground; pine needles becoming interspersed with a wider variety of leaves. Had he been paying proper attention, then it might have occurred to the warrior to part his silver-and-cream muzzle every now and then to take a whiff of his surroundings. Then he might have realised that the comforting smell of Tempestclan was fading and he was steadily approaching the stink of Vertigoclan grounds. Better yet, the cat may have smelled water. Or at least paid heed to the sound of water trickling over rocks drifting to striped ears. 

Regrettably for Glaciersky, he did neither of these things. And thus the warrior found his paws on smooth, slick stone and his idle rumination interrupted as he careened into a stream face first. It could have been avoided. The stream was shallow and the sides of the slope weren't all that steep, but the warrior wasn't fast enough to react to his predicament before it was too late for anything but a shocked yowl. He panicked briefly as liquid rushed up his nose before he found secure footing on the stream bottom. "Scat!" he sputtered, rising from the water with a hiss. "Well this is just wonderful, isn't it?" The cat turned his yellow gaze to his pelt, darkened by muck and water, and grimaced. This mess would take ages to dry and clean. 'Wonderful, absolutely wonderful.' The cat pawed helplessly at his silver - currently gray - fur, so engrossed in worrying over the state his coat that he'd failed to notice another warrior standing on the bank not too far off.

ooc: still not all that happy with the post, but it's something at least?

[→ bearclaw]

bearclaw

Eerie silence continued to stake its hold over the area, the only sound the clatter of water over pebbles. The sun was peaking a bit higher into the sky, and Bearclaw had no idea how long he had been standing there. Straightening out his pelt, the tom gave his chest fur a couple licks to soothe it, and traveled a bit up the bank; enough so that he could guarantee he wouldn't get his paws wet. Ruffling his pelt against a trade of wind that threatened to tip him over, the brown tabby gave a slight hiss of annoyance. He knew he ought to be doing something productive. He should just go back to camp and offer to help with whatever patrols he could scrounge. Maybe he could make his own. But something inside the warrior- a peculiar yet not unfamiliar feeling- circled his head, telling him to stray from the camp. He wasn't anti-social, but rather he only had patience for certain cats, and for so long. Besides, what was the harm of doing a little bit of self-patrolling on the border? It wouldn't be past the mangy VertigoClan cats to try and sneak over to catch some prey. Great StarClan knew they certainly needed it; they're pelts were always sagging and tangled. At least that's what it looked like to Bearclaw.


With a huff, the warrior adjusted himself on the ground and parted his jaw to scent the air. A quick breeze blew by, causing a rush of scents to flood his nose, and the warrior screwed up his face. Unable to scent anything of importance, the tom let his senses relax as he looked up at the sky, contemplating what to do next. That's when he caught the faint rustle of pawsteps among pine needles, and his hackles rose. Jumping onto his paws, the immense warrior braced himself for a conflict. He kneaded the ground below him with his claws, his paws itching to tear into enemy fur. Ears fully pricked and jaw open to keep the scent tracked, the tom recognized the scent of Glaciersky, a fellow clanmate.. The pungent odor of the rival clan stung his nostrils as it floated through the breeze from the other side of the bank, and he flared them in disgust. Maybe if they would bathe themselves more often, I could stand to be within a hundred fox lengths of them. His head spun around, and his vision caught the sight of a pale and silver tabby making his way out of the trees that littered the bank just behind him, and onto the shore.


Bearclaw recognized his gaze as that of a distracted cat- a face he wore too often himself- and his hackles smoothed a bit as curiosity took over. The scent from his own clan suddenly overpowered the enemies, and he breathed in deeply, calming the rest of his fur. The tom continued to pad forward, seemingly distracted and with no apparent intention to stop before he tumbled into the bank. As he neared the water. Bearclaw felt a sudden urge to call out to the tom- no cat deserved to have their paws wet, even if it would be entertaining. "Hey!" He called out, stepping forward with one paw as a deep, throaty call emerged from his maw. "You might wanna watc-" The warrior was abruptly cut off as the fellow tom slipped and stumbled in the creek. The poor sucker landed face first, and Bearclaw flinched at the thought of that being him. The tom jumped up, his fur ruffled and littered with water droplets. Bearclaw seized back a chuckle as the other tom threw curses aloud, his sarcasm almost palpable in the air.


Suddenly torn between leaving the mouse-brained idiot to flounder in the creek and staying to watch the entertainment, Bearclaw had to work increasingly hard to keep his chuckle back.Finally settling for the entertainment, the brown tom sat his rump down with a thud, and tucked his tail over his paws, his piercing yellow eyes watching the other tom with glitters of amusement. He sat and watched for a while, content at the toms reaction to the whole ordeal. While the tom was busy attempting to dry himself off, Bearclaw took the opportunity to throw friendly gesture, his paws still itching beneath him and he padded closer to the tom- careful not to mimic Glaciersky's mistake. "Last time I checked, TempestClan cats didn't like to swim." He said, flicking his tail. "You must be special. Have you grown gills yet?" The tom chuckled heartily, a slight friendliness lacing his tone.


ooc: long and unnecessary, but eh, it's early and I have to work later.

[glaciersky]

Glaciersky supposed he had no one to blame for this predicament but himself. More than supposed, really, he knew full well that the fault for falling into the water was entirely his. There hadn't been another cat pursuing him, he hadn't been chasing after a particularly fast shrew -- a dozen possible causes for the warrior falling into a stream on the border between Tempestclan and Vertigoclan flashed through his head, and not a one of them applied at that moment. Not that he was obligated to be entirely truthful about how the silver-furred tom had mucked up his usual pristine coat. He could imagine the incredulous laughter he'd receive from Stonestrike when he got back to camp. "You just walked into the stream? You're kidding. I-I have to tell Ivypaw about this.' The young cat could practically hear the raucous laughter from his friend like he was there right at that moment. Eerie, his imagination was getting to be a bit too vivid if he was recreating laughter so perfectly it sounded like it was right by him. Only... the tom blinked, looking up from his ministrations in shock. That laughter wasn't all in his head after all.

There was another cat -- a huge one at that -- sitting on the bank and chuckling at him. It took a moment before the surprise passed and Glaciersky recognised the older tom as Bearclaw. 'Well, so much for making up some story back at camp.' It would probably be too much trouble thinking up a story to deliver back at camp anyways. "I suppose it would be too much to hope you didn't see me waltz right into this mess?" he spoke with a wry roll of his eyes. The tom gave a small grin, instinctively sitting back, and promptly jumping up again as his hindquarters came into contact with water. Right. Stream. He was in a stream. "It's all this sun and heat, ya know? Drives a cat to desperate measures trying to cool down." 

He waded forward, splashing gracelessly towards the shore before he leapt up to join his fellow warrior on the rocks. He shook himself out, a spray of water flying in all directions. Pale whiskers twitched at Bearclaw's teasing. "Depends on your definition of special, but..." he trailed of momentarily, giving himself a once-over. "I don't see any gills just yet." The cat frowned, looking nonplussed, ears flat against his head as he glanced up once more with wide eyes. "I suppose I'm just not meant to be the first ever cat-fish." If the other tom was looking for entertainment, he certainly would find no shortage of it from Glaciersky. 

[→ bearclaw]

bearclaw

The sun was in the midst of the sky now, shoving it's harsh rays into Bearclaw's eyes. He blinked against it for a moment, screwing up his face as his eyes adjusted to light once more. The clouds above parted, and a valley of sunshine lit up the small stream. Bearclaw shook his head and turned his vision to face the silver tom who was just noticed his presence. He took special notice at the way the toms whiskers twitched at his comment, his eyes a dead giveaway that the brown warrior hadn't offended. Flicking the tip of his tail in polite gesture, the tabby adjusted himself and blinked politely at the silver warrior. ""I suppose it would be too much to hope you didn't see me waltz right into this mess?" Bearclaw shook his head, his whiskers twitching in amusement. "But where's the fun in that?" The brown warrior chided softly, though his voice came through husky and coarse. He ruffled his reply in an attempt to deflect the harsh prevailing winds that rustled through the stream every now and again, only offering a moment of cool relief from the blistering sun above. 


For a moment, a memory of his sister playing a game of border-defenders with him in the creek flashed through his mind, a small blanket of sadness covering him instantly. His ears flattened a bit, his eyes distant. He could still see her pale cream fur flashing through the forest, always a dead giveaway when she would attempt to sneak up on him. Another pelt flashed on the other side of the tom, revealing his brother, Tigerpaw. The large tom huffed, almost as if he could blow away the memory for good. it wasn't as if he wished to forget them, but rather store them until later. His loyalty to his clan and his worthiness came first, and being haunted by his past left nothing to be desired, especially during his flashbacks. 


The tom came back from his daze just in time to see his fellow clanmate soak his back haunches in the stream. Almost as quickly as he had sat down, Glaciersky leaped out of the water and onto the bank of rocks. Bearclaw watched him with bright eyes, studying his movements. Though the warrior was younger than he was, he still had skills- Bearclaw could give him that. "It's all this sun and heat, ya know? Drives a cat to desperate measures trying to cool down." Bearclaw nodded halfheartedly, the fellow tom's humor not rustling him. "Perhaps you should visit the medicine cat about that?" He inquired, tipping his head politely. It was only after a minute of silence that the tom realized his mistake in missing Glaciersky's humor, and his face flooded with warmth. His pelt twitched with embarrassment, so he adjusted his footing on the rocks. 


Praying that the younger warrior would pay no heed to his slip up, Bearclaw nodded as he continued to speak. He twitched his whiskers with amusement as the tom looked up at him with flattened ears and bright, wide eyes. "Perhaps I should push you back in? Maybe then you'll grow gills!" He chided, nudging the tom with his paw lightly. Socializing was not Bearclaw's forte, but Glaciersky seemed like the amicable type, so hopefully he would get some of Bearclaw's unfavorable humor. I hope so. The tom thought.

[glaciersky]

It really was hot outside. A sane cat didn't wander around in the middle of the day when temperatures were skyrocketing. A sane cat stayed in the cool shelter of camp and slept through the warmest hours. But then, here two warriors stood chatting about the heat. 'Does that mean we're both insane?' Maybe, but then again maybe not. After all, Glaciersky hadn't been wandering about of his own volition. Bearclaw, though, he was another matter. Not that it was incredibly important at that very moment. Pondering insanity could be saved for another day. The tom blinked quickly, a voice drawing him from the depths of his scattered thoughts, and he perked up his ears in his best attempt to look attentive. Hopefully his brief bit of inattention had gone unnoticed. It wouldn't do to get on yet another senior warrior's bad side. 

"Perhaps you should visit the medicine cat about that?" The silver tabby cocked his head curiously at the suggestion. Bearclaw looked dead serious as he replied to the earlier joke. He hadn't taken his words seriously had he? Either that, or he'd perfected his deadpan delivery to an alarming degree. The cat kept his face carefully neutral, an easy-going smile fixed on his face, and he shifted his gaze to observe the other's body language. Judging by the shuffling paws, the reply had been serious. Well, humour wasn't every clan cat's strong suit. His smile threatened to break into a full-blown grin, but Glaciersky managed to keep it in check. "Sly bastard, you just wanna see me choke down a bunch of nasty herbs for no reason," he responded, sodden tail lashing behind him in a mock display of anger. "Well," he stamped one paw resolutely on the rocks beneath him, "it won't work." He'd save the older tom the embarrassment at having been caught missing a joke. It wasn't as though there was any benefit to teasing.

The stream was quiet beside the chatter of the two cats, the steady murmur of water travelling over rocks broken only by the occasional fish breaking through the surface. Glaciersky stole a glimpse at the water before he felt the light pressure of a massive paw nudging him closer towards the stream. "Perhaps I should push you back in? Maybe then you'll grow gills!" The tom jumped back, hind paws slipping precariously on the edge of the bank before he skittered away from the brown tabby -- and a safe distance from the water as well. "Ohoho no! Thank you very much, but I do believe I've had my fill of soaking today," he split his maw into a wide grin as he spoke, eye glittering with mischief. Now the other cat was in on the game. His pelt was still damp from his first dip, a second was something he'd happily go without. "I dunno that your theory on cat-fish metamorphosis is all that reliable." He paused, padding a touch closer, though still a good tail-length from the bank. "What good would gills do a cat anyway? Prolly better that I never grew them." Looking up at the larger tom, Glaciersky wondered if the cat really would shove him into the stream for laughs. It was doubtful, Bearclaw seemed too serious for that sort of rough-housing, but then he could never really be sure.    

[→ bearclaw]

bearclaw

The brown warrior could sense something was off with his clanmate the moment the silver tom began to zone out. Bearclaw had always been extremely perceptive- he was more of a listener than a talker, and due to such he'd learned the expressions of others. The expression Glaciersky was wearing was definitely that of a cat zoning out. A bit of irritation struck up inside the warrior, but he brushed it off. "Sly bastard, you just wanna see me choke down a bunch of nasty herbs for no reason," The brown warrior blinked at his clanmate slowly. He knew it was a joke, especially from the size of Glaciersky's grin, but Bearclaw couldn't muster up a humorous response. "Well I was just being concerned." He said, slightly confused. "Besides," The tom muttered. "They don't taste that bad."


He watched the tom carefully as he jumped back from his paw, his famous grin still plastered to his face. To any other cat, perhaps it would have been alluring and contagious, but Bearclaw felt indifferent. He wasn't in a bad mood, but he just didn't understand the toms constant ecstasy. The silver warriors paws slipped on the rock, before he scampered to a safe distance from the stream. "I dunno that your theory on cat-fish metamorphosis is all that reliable." The brown warrior shrugged in response. "All things are possible, theoretically." He said. Perhaps Glaciersky wasn't as much of a deep thinker as he was. The tom blew some air through his nose, the heat of the day starting to get to him. He watched as the tom padded a bit closer, though still keeping his distance from the bank. Bearclaw though he'd try his paw at humor once more. "You seem to have an affinity for water. Maybe you'll meet a nice she-fish and have fish-kits." It came out sounding more odd than he'd of liked, but he figured the fellow warrior would understand his point. Huffing, the tom ambled a bit down the slope, until he was sitting on a flat slab of slate. His muscles felt heavy and impossible under the seemingly never ending sun, so the tom his chance to grab the coolness from the stone. A bit of water trickled over the edge of it, but the tom felt comfortable enough to lay down.

ooc: sorry this is short and crappy. it's a long day.

[glaciersky]

Glaciersky had to stop himself from wrinkling his nose at Bearclaw's comment regarding the taste of medicinal herbs. They were nasty, no two ways about it, and here the older warrior was claiming they didn't taste "that bad". And his tone and face were too serious for him to be joking around. 'Huh, maybe he really is insane.' The brown tabby was too stoic a warrior to be the type that puffed himself up and lied for the sake of impressing others. It didn't matter all that much, he supposed, better to let the matter drop than risk annoying the tom. The cat shrugged his gray shoulders and inclined his head in a grateful motion. "In that case, thank you for concern," he spoke lightly, his tone still sincere. "Still... I think I'll take a rain check on that medicine cat visit. I'd hate to bother them over nothing." 

He was happy to move on to other subjects, even if that meant the warrior risked a second swim in the stream. Now that he thought about it, the water really had been helpful in cooling down - maybe the larger tom could use a swim too, if his shuffling to find a cooler resting place was any indication of his discomfort - but his pelt was still damp from the first accident. "All things are possible, theoretically." Glaciersky narrowed his eyes, resisting the urge to snort dubiously at the comment. "Cat's growing gills just from persistent contact with water, though?" he asked skeptically. "I'm all for being open to a myriad of possibilities, but how would that even work?" The silver warrior watched as Bearclaw let out a heavy breath through his nose before standing, padding closer to a slab of dark rock worn smooth by the constant flow of water. The cat was still teasing him, at least, which meant the warrior wasn't entirely irritated by his presence. "Eugh, fish-kits," he shuddered, shaking out his pelt at the idea. "I'unno, all those scales just don't seem appealing, hah." Laughing, he moved to stand closer to the bank and fixed his gaze on the water, watching the ripples that signified life beneath the glassy surface. "As for my water affinity, well, I'd argue it's more an affinity for accidents in general. Had to be rescued from a bog once when I was still a 'paw."

Grinning at the memory, he glanced over at the reclining tom. 'Bit of a lone wolf isn't he? Huh, lone wolf...' There was a new name for Bearclaw in the works there, but now probably wasn't the best time to test it out. At best he'd get a glare and a warning, at worst he'd have his nose and ears full of stream-water for the second time that day. "Mind if I ask what you're doing all the way out here? Er, that is -" He ducked his head apologetically. The silver tom hadn't intended to be nosy, more specifically, he hadn't intended to carelessly blurt our his thoughts. "Sorry. I don't mean to pry."