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Post by Cactusdog on Nov 29, 2017 19:04:40 GMT
Birchstrike padded out of the warriors den slightly drowsy, the dawn hunting patrol likely had left already as the sun was slowly rising over the horizon. It was quite a chilly morning and there was a gentle breeze in the air but she could feel the sky warming from the sun's rays. Birchstrike despite her fluff was a rather lithe she-cat and was quite stunning as well with her light gray tabby fur and soft green eyes would make any tom cat weak in the knees. Birchstrike was unsure about what she wanted to do until the afternoon when she would join the hunting patrol. She padded to the center of camp laying down watching as more cats gathered to share tongues. She often would not join the morning patrols so she could listen in on the latest gossip and so she would not have to wake up so early. "Did you hear...?" She heard a she-cat say. "About what?" A brown tom said. "I heard that in Creekclan Cactusheart is sneaking into Dogclan to meet...a she-cat." He said. "No way! He hates Dogclan!" She said. "Maybe it's all for show to hide his love." Birchstrike snorted the gossip got more and more preposterous the longer they went without anything really juicy to talk about. Word Count: 216 Notes: Sorry about not posting this yesterday I was at a friends house Tags: Lock marshymutt Mama Hotcakes tagging all of y'all |
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Post by aspenheart on Dec 25, 2017 0:59:53 GMT
It was Tornpelt, the great, scarred elder, who lumbered out then. What remained of his ears were flicking slightly at a gnat that was following him around, as he continued towards the fresh-kill pile. "Ah, Birchstrike," he greeted, somewhat blandly. "Anything interesting happen today?" the tom asked gruffly, pulling a heavy rabbit out of the pile. He glanced at her, not sure if he wanted her to reply or not. His eyesight wasn't the best, but he knew that she looked well enough. Not to his tastes, really, he preferred cream or black she-cats, but he wasn't about to hurt her self-image over something as silly as taste. The gnat landed inside his ear, and he sat down to scratch at it, hopefully killing the damn thing. His thinning pelt looked worn, and his bones almost seemed to creak when he moved. Mentions/Tags: Cactusdog |
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Post by Cactusdog on Dec 31, 2017 18:14:22 GMT
Birchstrike watched as Tornpelt padded over to her. The ginger tabby tom was the oldest cat in the clan by far. As far as she knew most clans were rather lacking in elders, likely starving during the twoleg hunting season due to the fact many cats couldn't leave or died before they reached the elders den. "Hello Tornpelt." She said in her usual creamy seductive voice that she almost always spoke in. She wasn't trying to seduce Tornpelt but rather just talk to him. It wasn't very useful to be friendly with the elders besides if she was asking for knowledge from them in which she could get anyways. "Nothing of interest. I'm going on a hunting patrol later today. Gossip says Cactusheart is seeing a Dogclan she." She said sarcastically her eyes darting to a few gossiping she-cats. She gave her fur a few swift licks, not that it needed to be groomed as Birchstrike was always to concerned about her appearance to let it get dirty. "What about you? How is the elders den treating you?" she remembered being an apprentice and having to take care of the elders, such a boring task only made better by the stories the elders told. Word Count: 204 Notes: Sorry for such a late response! Tags: aspenheart |
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Post by aspenheart on Jan 1, 2018 2:22:33 GMT
He lowered his head to level his eyes with hers, squinting a little bit to see more clearly. Small talk was not something he was fond of, nor was gossip. The elder dropped the rabbit at his paws, continuing to scratch his ear. "Mnh. Well, I couldn't care less about gossip or whatever in the name of StarClan Cactusheart does with himself, but I've personally been doing quite well. When you hit that huntin' patrol, could you tell one of the apprentices to come check me for ticks? I've been itchin' like crazy, and I'm worried it might be fleas," the tom grumbled. His tongue rasped over his scarred muzzle and torn whiskers, shifting a little bit on his paws. He kind of just wanted to get back... Cactusdog |
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Post by Cactusdog on Jan 1, 2018 21:32:38 GMT
Birch strike yawned tiredly and stretched her legs out in front of her. "Yes, of course. Seems the apprentices have been slacking...Everyone is the mild chill is making everyone sluggish." She felt a yawn rising in her chest and clenched her teeth. Seems everyone including me are sluggish too. She thought to herself. She looked up watching as a cloud drifted across the sky slowly and lazily just like them. The sun was starting to slowly crawl higher into the sky and she knew soon her patrol would be leaving. She saw the gossiping she-cats get up and leave. "Hm," She looked around and saw a tabby tom pad out of the den. He was in her patrol, she would gather the rest of the patrol after he grabbed something to eat, since the pile was still full and all the elders and kits had been fed. Word Count: 148 Notes: - Tags: aspenheart |
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Post by aspenheart on Jan 1, 2018 23:09:20 GMT
"If that's all, I'll go eat my prey," Tornpelt grumbled, picking up the rabbit and, with a creaking of his great bones, he headed shakily back to the elder's den. Arthritis ached at his joins, and he had a quiet noise halfway between a growl and a whine deep in his throat. When he slipped back into the den, he gingerly set himself down and began to eat with as little movement as physically possible. He hurt all over and was just tired, but unfortunately that's what you got from living this long. His heavily scarred pelt was ragged over his thin bones, and he hardly looked like he could even be alive. But, he'd looked like that since Palestar's mother was born, so who really minded? The tom let out a sigh. He was awfully tired. Cactusdog
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