never go mental | open

[¿`Laughing!]

The only thing that had been on his mind since he left camp was the smell of that rabbit. It had teased him while he was leaving the area of congregation, dancing across the breeze with the rest of the wilderness. It was weird that he had been allowed outside of camp in the first place, being only an apprentice, but he had been served with no obstruction from the entrance guard. Perhaps the Clan was being a bit too lax, or they were sure that the only reason he would escape was to retrieve food for them. This was partially true, he had never wandered outside of the camp for any other foolish reason. Well, at least he had not let outside of camp without another warrior until now. Yet, this time he seemed to be fine, they were assured in his business, and so he went along. It really was only for hunting that he left the camp now, only to retrieve that rabbit that had taunted him the moment that he had taken a step outside.

In truth, Brackenpaw was not keen on killing any sort of creature. He found murder and death to be something unfriendly, something that he could do very much without. But, the Clan needed the food and so he provided it with the best care that he could have. He did not tease the rabbit as it teased him, he did not play with his meals. He shot out after them in a stretch of flurried limbs and caught their cotton tails without any real trouble, normally. He had, certainly, missed one of those hares at some time or another, but never did he frighten the thing to death, play games with it when it was half dead. He was more humane than that.

The winter chill had subsided, cooler breezes were becoming less and less common. He felt as though he could not remember what the snow looked like, being free from it only for a couple of weeks. As newleaf came, most rejoiced, the winter had been cruel. He was born in the later stretches of greenleaf, and soon enough he would reach that time again. When the summer heat, which he had never experienced, shifted to the autumn crisp which he had lived through his first two moons of. He wanted to know what it was like to catch rabbits in the heat, to feel the warmth of the full sun burn him as he breathed heavily, taking down a rabbit with as much care as he could. Or would he experience heat stroke and fall before he could catch the flat-footed prey? Would he collapse, and laugh, and say that he simply could not deal with this?

It had not come to that yet, he had not yet been in that dieing summer sun. The only weeks he had been in the heat he had been unconscious to reality, the dependency had allowed no other thoughts except to drink, sleep, and continue to push into his mother's warmth. Not that that had lasted very long either. But--he shook his head, golden eyes narrowing as he avoided the images of terror--that was something he could live without remembering for as long as he lived.

It's right over here

[/color]. His thoughts pulled him to the right, and through the long grasses he could smell something delicious. Rabbit. There it was, that teasing creature. It was nibbling on something, probably one of the shorter and tougher weeds that lived between the heath, almost sharp when one stepped on them. But that was the way of the moor, almost as if it simply wanted to protect the ground beneath it from everything. But, this layer proved well, for the rabbit could not hide among it, only along the edges of the grasses, in hopes that it blended in nice enough not to be seen. But, the golden brown fur was not completely camouflaged by the lighter grasses, and soon Brackenpaw was leaning down on his paws in preparation for a sprint. It made the slightest noise as he pressed, a soft snapping from the pressure. Alert. He cursed his carelessness, forgetting that everything is fragile during this new season. The rabbit glanced around, but as it had been hidden among the moor grasses, so had he. He would not allow this one to get away from him.

And he was running, dashing across the grass just as the rabbit took to its flee. He would not allow the thing to get away from him, that was just not going to be done. He could not let that go down. So, he made a very impulsive move. He, in mid-stripe, pulled himself from the ground and soar in the air towards the cotton-tailed prey. He found himself hunched over a dead rabbit second later, a deep nip into its neck to dispatch his prey. It was over.

He licked one of his paws, flattening some of the fur against his head and then tasted around his mouth for the blood that was now stained there. He would need to go to a stream to get the heavy crimson off of him. Licking at it would not be enough. Blinking without knowing what to do next, Brackenpaw considered the landscape around him. He had the choice to go back to camp with just this, or to continue to hunt. But, looking back down at the rabbit, it was a pretty big piece of prey. Would he be able to carry it and other smaller things back? He sat on it, licking his muzzle, hoping that someone would come along to help him solve his problem.[/blockquote][/blockquote]
[nine hundred and forty six]

[cybercat009]

Dawnfrost yawned, flexing her lips over her white, thorn-sharp fangs. She was normally never this tired. Last night, however, she had decided to wander off and stare at the stars. The weather was improving at an alarmingly fast rate. Already the snow had receded from the moorland and the grasses were springing up and flowering. Leafbare and Leaf-fall were the female’s favorite seasons. The days were still reasonably cool enough to keep her from dying under her long coat, but not cold enough for snow to pack between her pads. It was a very fine day to be out and about doing Clan duties. Having been rejected to join the dawn patrol, Dawnfrost decided to make use of herself on a solo hunting party. She would have gotten Sandpelt and Mistyfur to go with her, if her sister wasn’t busy chatting with a tom or her former apprentice had been awake. The warrior’s right ear twitched. Why was it so easy for them to be social?

A rustle in the grass up ahead caught her attention. The she-cat’s ears swiveled around, focusing on the site of the disturbance. The stalks of grass swayed back and forth in a slow, melodic rhythm before coming to a halt. Dawnfrost set a small paw back on the ground and took a powerful stance. Powerful for as slender as she was, anyway. Ears still trained for any sound of danger up ahead, the warrior stalked towards the grass fronds. Her maw cracked open. The light, breezy scents of the hillside wafted across the glands of her mouth, carrying with them the tales of rabbits, birds on the wing, and flowering foliage. Another scent lay nestled between the scents of the moor. It was sweet like heather and musty like a den full of cats. She recognized it as another member of her Clan. Dawnfrost let the tension ease out of her head and shoulders. Taking a couple more strides, she pushed through the grass to find her Clanmate.

She was greeted by a brown tabby apprentice and a freshly slaughtered rabbit. It took her a second, but after gazing intently at the rings of chocolate on the other cat’s coat she identified him as Brackenpaw. He had been an apprentice for at least two moons now. Dawnfrost’s right ear twitched just slightly. The she-cat was a little embarrassed that the fact that she could not name a cat that had been in the same Clan has her for eight moons now. She remembered there being something obscure and taboo about Brackenpaw’s past, but couldn’t put her paw on what it was exactly. He certainly didn’t look very out-of-the-ordinary upon first glance. The scent of the rabbit wafted through the air and reminded the she-cat that she hadn’t eaten before leaving camp.

“Brackenpaw, what are you doing out here without a warrior?” There was no reprimanding tone in her voice. Just a hint of curiosity to her monotone mew. “Or, is it safe for apprentices to be out alone?” She gazed at him with her asparagus-green eyes, searching his person for an answer.

[¿`Laughing!]

Brackenpaw had not noticed the tainting in the air of another Clan mate, and so when Dawnfrost's form was revealed from the rest of the wilderness, he almost jerked back foolishly in surprise. Ears pressed back against his dark fur, solid eyes widened in momentary surprised. Even as he registered her appearance, her smell, it took him a couple of moments to pull back to the position that he had been in earlier. The rabbit at his foot remained static, despite his sudden pace back. He was sure that he would have pedaled right into the freshly killed body, but he had missed its sightless eyes just by a couple of inches. He was lucky, if he had trampled over it there would have been greater consequences than being outside of the camp on his own. It did not seem that Dawnfrost was angry with him as she walked closer though, there was no edge of anger that he could spot in her gaze. This relaxed him some, a settling of the agitated fur on his shoulders, a sweeping breath of relief escaping his throat.

"I would think that it is safe," the tom's voice escaped smoothly, assured. "Though, I guess this is not my place to say such a thing." He respectfully lowered his gaze for a moment, thinking back to the manners that he had been focused on for many days. Not religiously looking back and over them, but at least knowing them to some extent. He would like to keep a good face among the warriors, friends, and family a like. He had no desire for quarrels. He calmly decided that he should explain what had happened before he was further interrogated, "The entrance guard did not stop me, so I thought that it would be okay. And before deeply thinking over the manner, the scent of a rabbit--this rabbit, to be exact--had caught my attention. I am sorry for any... ignorance I showed in this action." His pause there had not been intended, it was bothersome to have any hesitance in the way that he spoke. Some grouped it together with deceit, he wished to be viewed as anything but a liar.

Brackenpaw took a moment to view the woman before him, a warrior experienced enough for him not to be fearful of. Her soft color was pleasing to the eye, comforting. He could view her as a mother with that kind of hue, like the clouds that dusted the horizon on a spring dawn, perhaps that was why she was born. What a smart mother, if that was truly the case to her name. He enjoyed implied meanings, as long as they were something better than, 'oh, I called her Dirt because she was brown'. It takes elegant reasonings to pull a responsive smile from him, and there it was, a gentle grin on his lips. He wished that his mother had been keen enough to do something so gorgeous for him.

One of his toes nudged the rabbit unintentionally, bringing his attention back from where ever cloud he had been floating away from his company on. He came back to his words before, expanded on them, "And I got it, the weather was perfect for a hunt like this. And what brings you out on such a pleasant day?" He was not hurried to get himself out of the spot light, but he much preferred to listen over talking.

[five hundred and seventy-two]

[cybercat009]

Brackenpaw appeared relieved at the neutral tone of her manner. At least he knew he was doing something unusual. “I would guess it was safe. Though, I guess it is not my place to say such a thing.”

The apprentice lowered his gaze. Dawnfrost was glad at least one young cat in WindClan could show some kind of respect. The younger warriors were not blatantly disrespectful, but they did conveniently forget their place quite often. There at least one instance with every fresh cat where they forgot to address her as a senior warrior. Dawnfrost is not what anyone would call conceited, it’s just her extreme respect for hierarchy kicking in. ‘Everyone has a place, and should treat those above them with respect.’ Brackenpaw spoke again, pulling her out of her mental soliloquy.

"The entrance guard did not stop me, so I thought that it would be okay.” The she-cat flexed her torn ear back. How careless. “And before deeply thinking over the manner, the scent of a rabbit - this rabbit, to be exact - had caught my attention. I am sorry for any... ignorance I showed in this action."

The she-cat thought back to the survivor code. She remembered it commanded that all cats be fed before taking seconds, but couldn’t recall anything about apprentices hunting by themselves. Bluefoot had often sent her away from Clan by herself, but Bluefoot wasn’t exactly a kind and caring mentor. I guess it doesn’t matter now, anyway. I’m out here with him, so he technically isn’t out without a warrior. She wondered what his mentor could be doing that made him unable to take his apprentice out. Furthermore, how could Brackenpaw have enough free time to go out by himself? Even if their mentors are busy, they should be helping out with Clan chores.

"And I got it; the weather was perfect for a hunt like this. What brings you out on such a pleasant day?”

“I’d like to move around before it becomes unbearable.” Dawnfrost was implying how the heat of Greenleaf made her feel muggy under all her fur. Of course, there was always the room to take her sentence regarding her age. Although the warrior still had quite a few moons left in her, the title of elder was approaching. The she-cat thought about it sometimes when she couldn’t find sleep. She thought about what it would be like to leave WindClan to see out her days alone... There was a smile on the apprentice’s face - a gentle grin. It made her self conscious.

“You know, before it gets too hot.” Dawnfrost opened her mouth to question the tom further about his absent mentor, but held her tongue at the last moment. She wasn’t out here to attack him with questions. “I would see to it that you resist eating any of that rabbit while we’re out here. It would be proper to bring it back for the queens. Bury it, and we can keep hunting.”

Dawnfrost knew she just thrust herself onto Brackenpaw without invitation. You can avoid getting in trouble for being out alone - that was her planned excuse. The warrior was really just thinking of herself. In her mind, this was another opportunity to practice her social skills on a cat that really couldn’t voice their negative opinions. And, Brackenpaw didn’t know the she-cat very well. It was a true test.

[¿`Laughing!]

"Oh, I had no intention of eating it myself," Brackenpaw spoke, eyes shifting from the face of the warrior ahead of him and the rabbit at the center of his feet. While the thought was enticing, he had no wish to starve the precious queens by taking the food for himself. Besides, the rabbit was much to big to fill only himself. If he was correct, its bulk would be able to feed all of the queens that were currently expecting or had their kits. That was a proud thought, sure, but it was edging on the truth. It was rare that Windclan was treated to a rabbit larger than a couple of pounds, especially in territory such as this. He had heard murmurings of fatter, more pleasant prey from the days of the old, before the journey. He wondered if they would ever get to see that place, if the path would once more open up and those who had driven them out no longer wishing to stay on the territory which they had stole. He sometimes entertained the thought, but it was only done when there simply was nothing else to do. So here, in front of a warrior, he should not be dazing off. He needed to look somewhat alert of her words.

He wondered why she could not deal with the heat, which he found soothing compared to the bristling cold of the recent leafbare. He did not know any other sun except for this one and that of autumn, and how they did compare to winter was excellent. He would rather be boiling under the sun than frozen in his den, no excitement rose from the thought of returning to the days where he was sure the tip of his tail could have broken off from it being so frigid. And whatever mouse-brain chose Windclan's open to the sky camp surely had not been thinking of the cold months.

"You really find it muggy?" he questioned with that soft voice of his. "I could do forever with this over leafbare." He noted this at the end with a quiet blink in her direction, as if by stating his opinion he had felt he was doing something wrong. He did not want to look idiotic, but he could not do that without remaining silent. Sometimes, though it was rare, he spoke his view on things. No warrior often cared for it, consumed with their own selfish observations. He did not believe that this was Dawnfrost's behavior, but he could not be sure. She could be thinking about how stupid he was for liking spring at the moment and he'd never realize unless she spouted her words.

Obeying her word, Brackenpaw's claws met dirt as he began to putt it up from the ground. The rabbit would not have to be buried completely, there had to be some indication to where it had fallen. So, the shallower the hole the better, so he decided, as he dug up a couple of paw-fuls of the cracked soil of Windclan. Wondering if it was any softer in the other Clans, Brackenpaw placed the rabbit carefully in the small hole he had dug. As he began to place soil over its warm colored body, he found that at the end of his dig he had left only a slight show of its ear above ground. He looked back up at Dawnfrost as he rose, hoping that his job was alright. He inquired her this with the tip of his ear.

"You're going to join me?" the tom seemed positively confused at this, rarely was a warrior to hunt with an apprentice that was not their own and one that they had found on the moor by themself. So, it was not wrong that he was curious at her word. "That would be wonderful." His voice slightly betrayed his bemusement, the tilt to his chin downwards tugged respect. "Where do you want to go next, then?"

[six hundred and sixty-one]