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Hati
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Post by Hati on Mar 9, 2023 2:43:46 GMT -6
…She was bleeding again.
Tiger twitched the tip of her tail as she felt the sticky warmth trickling down her leg; noted the dull throb of pain that accompanied it. Both were a tell-tale sign that her clawed shoulder had reopened again, and she growled softly to herself at everything that meant. It had been several sunrises since the misguided ambush that had given it to her, and it irked her that she still showed such clear signs of the strangers’ attack; worried her—just a little—that it split day after day after day; refusing to close as it ought. She knew what happened to cats who didn’t heal. She’d seen it too many times before.
Shoving the thought away—vowing she wouldn’t go out like that—Tiger bounded onto a thick bundle of roots and then paused, allowing her shoulder a break. She stood rock-still in the tree’s shadows for a long moment as she scanned the surrounding forest, searching for any hint of danger: any sign she was being watched. She saw nothing but her own breath misting on the freezing air; a few dry leaves rolling before the breeze; bare branches twitching high above. She heard and smelt little more, and at last, satisfied, she allowed herself to sink into a tense crouch.
Her fur stuck out more than she liked within the snow-laden leafbare woods, but Tiger trusted herself to the trunk pressed against her side and the shadow it cast over her, and took the opportunity to check her shoulder. Already the fur beneath it was deeply stained, and again the tip of her tail twitched; expressing her frustration. She’d been battling for seasons, and yet it was a pounce that would have embarrassed a kit that now threatened her very existence.
If only her nose hadn’t been filled with prey-scent. If only her ears hadn’t been filled with the wind’s howling.
Grumbling to herself, Tiger rasped her tongue across the wound—and paused, ears twitching. Immediately the she-cat turned her gaze back to the forest, searching for the source of the noise...
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baewolf
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she/her
37 Posts
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Post by baewolf on Mar 9, 2023 22:38:34 GMT -6
The territory was still very new to her; borders had yet to be marked and trails were still to be made. This area would make do as home for now, but after the snows left the group of cats would be on their way once more. Now that the group was settled in the small cave behind the waterfall, Coastcurl had started exploring the area more and more. The winter still had it's claws dug in to the area, everything tipped in frost and ice. Though in a certain light with the sunshine, it was a beautiful sight. Seeing all the leaves wreathed in pale blue and glittering, ice crusting the tops of the stones. Even the faint tinkling sound when the wind stirred through the trees, sending the icicles chiming against each other.
Coastcurl was out as soon as the sun had rose, her ears flat and eyes narrowed as she parted her jaws for the first traces of prey. There was something warm on the breeze; the metallic tang of blood along with it. The stormy grey she-cat stopped for a moment, letting the breeze draw the scents over her tongue once more. It wasn't prey, the scent was feline. There was a wounded cat in her not-so claimed territory. Without thinking, her hackles rose, fur along her spine bristling with the need to protect those under her care.
Dropping into a crouch, she crept alone the path, following the blood scent. A bit of scarlet against the pure white snow caught her eye, causing the she-cat to stop and check the scent. It was the same one, along with the lush smell of a she-cat that she didn't recognize. Grateful for her stormy pelt, Coastcurl stuck to the shadows as she followed the trail, keeping downwind from the scent. There, she thought, eyes narrowing. Through the bone-like branches she saw a flash of bronze colored fur flecked with night, the pelt covering a large body. Knowing she had the upperpaw in the situation since the she-cat was wounded, Coastcurl didn't give a second thought when she pushed her way out of the scraggly underbrush, her chin high and chest out.
"You're on my territory," she said in a menacingly calm voice, stepping forward with one leg, claws on display. "Who are you and why are you bleeding on my land?" Her blue-grey eyes were narrowed slightly, a questioning light behind them with a slight glimmer of curiosity.
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Hati
New Member
8 Posts
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Post by Hati on Mar 10, 2023 12:50:01 GMT -6
At first, she saw nothing. Though they were stripped of their leaves the tress still cast long shadows across the floor, and closer to the ground, where the undergrowth crouched, many of the plants still grew thickly enough to hide small shapes from view. If Tiger had been less experienced she might have assumed that she’d imagined the small sound that had drawn her attention and that there was nothing to see at all – but she knew better than to be so unwary. She knew to trust her other senses over her sight, and when her eyes failed to find anything she parted her jaws instead; tasting the chill air.
…Nothing.
But the breeze was brushing in from behind her, so she strained her ears further: seeking some other soft noise. She caught it a moment later, and a low growl rumbled in her throat as frosty branches rustled and a small cat pushed through. The stranger faced her boldly, quietly threatening, and Tiger eyed her cooly; unsure whether to count it as foolishness or bravery. It barely mattered to her either way.
“Cuts bleed,” Tiger grumbled, making no attempt to shift from her perch as she stared the stranger down. Her shoulder wouldn’t stop her fighting if it came to it—no injury ever had—and she indicated it by extending her own claws: keeping her head high. She wondered if the stranger’s unspoken threat was bluff, or if this was a cat who’d back it with violence if pushed. Tiger didn’t know, but it didn’t stop her from contesting the challenge.
“I didn’t smell any border, so I ‘ave as much right to be ‘ere as you, I think.”
It was plain, simple truth, for the she-cat hadn’t caught a trace of cat scent since the previous sunrise, and certainly hadn’t passed anything that might say this land was claimed. She wouldn’t have stopped, if she had. She would have pushed on until she’d crossed it, or perhaps even skirted it entirely, for she knew how fiercely cats defending a border fought and she was disinclined, at the moment, to face that kind of wrath. Leafbare provided her enough problems without her getting into pointless scraps.
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baewolf
Leader
she/her
37 Posts
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Post by baewolf on Mar 15, 2023 18:18:07 GMT -6
A small part of her couldn't help but admire the she-cats boldness, the way she held herself even though blood was still leaking out of her wound. The size of the she-cat before her made Coastcurl feel like a kit, but she held her ground and kept their gazes locked. Coastcurl gave her a once over, eyes narrowing slightly as she took in the still-muscled body under the golden-brown fur speckled with black. The pride that still lit the slightly golden eyes, the upturned chin, and ears still alert. Something there caught Coastcurls interest, her claws retracting slightly and her body losing some of its tightness. Despite the stormy grey she-cat slightly softening, her ears were still forward and her tail held high, chin not dipping one bit. She let her eyes roam over the other she-cat, marking the scars that were visible. This was a cat that knew how to fight, and how to win them. It had Coastcurl thinking of the scars she couldn't see, whether they were mental or physical. Her lips almost pulled down into a frown but she caught herself. Her one weakness, caring too much about others needs.
The obvious difference in their body size was the real pause for Coastcurl. Time to use her wits, with truth spun within lies. The stormy she-cat knew how to work her ways out of situations, but she also knew the strength of her skill. She would not back down for any reason.
"My large group just moved into the territory, we haven't yet to mark borders," Coastcurl said in a cool, almost purring tone, her tail tip flicking behind her. "I have warriors out now scouting the territory, we plan to make a permanent home here." It was an effort to keep the fur along her spine down, but this was one of the moments that she knew being hotheaded and brash would probably cost her. |
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Hati
New Member
8 Posts
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Post by Hati on Mar 16, 2023 14:08:52 GMT -6
The stranger retracted her claws, just a fraction, and Tiger narrowed her eyes; wondering at that response. Now the signals on offer to her were a conflicting kind, whispering both reluctance for violence and the lingering threat of it, and the clash between them had extra wariness flooding through her gaze and mind. Her muscles tensed still further, answering that uncertainty, and when the other cat answerer her her tail tip twitched against the roots on which she perched.
A group.
A large one.
She’d crossed no border and smelled no others, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t some gang of cats somewhere in this forest. If they hadn’t been here long then there would be little of their scent for the wind to blow to her, and what little there was could so very easily be being brushed away by the breeze’s wrong course. That she’d missed the cat before her was proof enough that she could have missed others. But it wasn’t solid proof, not by any means, for others were not always so honest, and this bold little she could so very easily be lying to save her own skin.
Tiger’s tail tip twitched again – and then she unfolded herself from her crouch, letting her claws scrape the bark as she stepped to the ground. Her movements were measured and purposeful, and she set her paws flat on the floor even despite the sharpened throb of her shoulder; ignored the scarlet droplet that pattered down onto the snow beneath her. That was the least of her problems right now. Her first concern had to be the stranger before her, and she kept her eyes locked fast on her as she prowled forwards – and paused a tail-length back; jaws opened wide.
There, Tiger found all she needed. The stranger’s scent, when pulled across the roof of her mouth, proved to be laden with cat scents: enough to trouble her even were she at her best; even were her shoulder strong and whole. She knew at once that she’d be a fool to face them down, but it was also dangerous to let herself seem cowed.
For a moment Tiger was rock-still again, looking for all the world the owner of the ground onto which she’d wandered. Then she flicked an ear, picking the best of bad paths: growling a menacingly soft “I’ll shred any who come for me.” Slowly she stepped sideways, trying to angle herself so she could put her nose into the wind and find the unknown others; refusing to give the stranger her flank, or to let her slip from beneath her watchful eyes.
“Even if there are many, it’ll be them ‘urtin’ by the end.”
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