pafp a darklit place -- fox & loner

[mottlefox]

Sunhigh brings with it a terrible little smell in the far reaches of the marsh. The light filtering through the pines is nice, but the evaporated water from last night's rain leaves behind slime that, while soft on the paws, is a pain in the tail to traverse. The loner clicks their tongue and slides their claws from their sheaths, pressing into the soft earth for better traction along the ShadowClan border.

A yowl splits the air, jerking the young cat from their thoughts and focus, and they look up with swivelling ears to pinpoint the sound - but it's unnecessary, the rustling grass just to their side parting in pieces to reveal flashes of red fur though the long grass. Parting her jaws, she catches the faint reek of fox even if she is upwind of the beast, and gags. Ew. Secondary to that comes blood, and ... a cat? and the odd-eyed adolescent groans loudly. Aw come on, she'd just wanted to have a normal day passing along the border. Just one.

Recklessly, (though she had never been known for her cautiousness) the fawn-stained molly crosses over the scent markers and bursts through the grass, briefly coming muzzle-to-tailtip with a small fox brawling with a cat - but she doesn't let her shock slow her down and takes a running leap at the predator, hoping to sink sharp claws into its thick pelt and topple it off its victim using her momentum.

"C'mere, mange-pelt! Let's go!" She yowls, leaning her weight to one side and holding on for grim life.

// please wait for @GRANITEPAW !!! fox will retreat after 5 attacks​

 

[GRANITEPELT]

The gray and white apprentice hadn't been far from @DOGFUR, but the scent of a marsh rabbit had been too enticing to ignore. Granitepaw's concentration had all been spent attempting to focus on stilling his breathing, ensuring his paws do not rustle the pine needles underfoot. His body is still, narrow green gaze locked on the thicket of marsh grass the creature had dove into.

There's a rustle behind him, and the rabbit streaks away before Granitepaw can give chase. He turns to swear at Dogfur, irritation clear in the flattened ears and wrinkled nose, but he finds himself face-to-face with an animal he has never met before. Long, narrow muzzle, thick auburn and white fur, and teeth big and flashing yellow.

Granitepaw's back arches and his claws unsheathe, but the fox lunges quickly, its fangs searing into his shoulder. He has just enough time to evade the worst of the attack; the teeth graze his flesh and fur rather than rend into it like prey-meat. The gray cat hisses furious, yowling a warning. He swipes its grotesque pointed muzzle, and droplets of blood swing throughout the air as it snarls in pain and rage.

He winces; where is Dogfur? Is he going to have to try to fight this ugly bastard by himself? Granitepaw curses Pitchstar in his head for a thousandth time. This is that fool's fault -- how was he supposed to know how to fight a fox!

He bares his teeth, preparing to launch another blow, when the foliage splits to reveal a tawny-colored feline, masked with white. Her scent is strange, not ShadowClan but not any of the other Clans, either.

"C'mere, mange-pelt! Let's go!" She clings to the creature with all her might. Any challenge Granitepaw may have had to her intrusion dies on his tongue. He takes the opportunity to slash again, this time at the fox's flank, drawing a satisfying and sickening amount of blood.

// @DOGFUR mentor tag!​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[DOGFUR]

The relationship he had with Pitchstar's former apprentice was quite informal. The tortoiseshell was not very strict about Granitepaw keeping close to him. Dog eat dog world, he would think with admiration. If there was a Starkiller on the loose, nobody, not even a warrior would be safe. What difference would it make if it were an apprentice? He loved Granitepaw, but not at the cost of his own life.

While Dogfur outwardly neglected his apprentice's straying away, the truth was that he had become incredibly bored staring at one of the wilted flowers at the base of a tree. He turned his head over his scrawny shoulder, wide eyes staring unblinkingly at the shadowy abyss before him. The warrior slunk forward, keeping their paws quiet among the soft ground. It was not wrong to spy on one's apprentice.

No sooner than he had found his hiding spot, Dogfur's spine thrilled at the sound of a hiss and yowl and suddenly fiery-red fur is bumbling through the undergrowth. Silly, ungraceful creatures they were, with long stupid faces like a dog's. Dogfur hissed and slunk further in on himself, belly brushing the ground. Swat and run—he willed in his mind as he saw Granitepaw face off with the beast, unwilling to put his life on the line.

Suddenly a new burst of color enters his vision, a tiny thing throwing itself at the fox as if it was their natural prey. His lip curls in a wicked snarl, revealing yellowed, crooked teeth. Erratic as they were, Dogfur still had Clan conditioned aversion to strangers especially in a hostile environment.

"You there!" Dogfur barked, leaping out into the open, mottled fur bristled and expanded. With his crazed yellow eyes, it was uncertain if he was addressing the fox or the strange sepia. He hissed, ears flattened, arched back at the fox but did not strike.

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[mottlefox]

The skinny cat topples off the fox, the horrible thing yipping and snarling at her, but she hits the forest floor with a roll as the fox whimpers and snarls again. They look up, pelt fluffed up around their shoulders, to see it squaring off against its original victim again - but, thankfully, it now seems to be torn between two options as more blood-scent fills the air. The other young cat must have landed a hit.

Fate casts its stones of chance, and unfortunately, she seems to draw the shortest as the predator whirls on her. Jaws snap at her face and she recoils; not quite fast enough to stop it from taking a part of her right ear, but enough to stave off any major damage.

"Ow! Filthy fuckin' fox!" She hisses with pain, irritated by the trickle of blood she can feel running down the side of her face. Another voice calls out, unfamiliar again, but the loner ignores it; she's on the back foot now, forced into defensive fighting stance and hoping that one of the two strangers would hurry up and- "Do something!"

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[✧ Siltcloud.]

WHAT AN EXPENSIVE FAKE
siltpaw | 11 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally easy | attack in bold #ddadaf

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Siltpaw has never been one to simply jump into things without thinking. The quietest of the siblings, the one always lurking in the shadows. The same can be said on this patrol - she's so focused on her hunt that she nearly misses it, only her keen sense of smell alerting her to the danger. The mouse slipping away seems to recognize it to - dull gaze darts about, hackles on end as she drops low, anxious. Fox. The sounds of shouting is quick to fill the air - the voice unfamiliar. She's on her paws in a moment, slipping through the undergrowth with speedy caution.

The scene is not pretty - dogfur hiding like a coward (a smart one, but a coward nonetheless) while granitepaw, and... a loner, it looks like, are fighting a fox. She's never seen a fox up close before, only sniffed the scent in training as a reminder and a warning. It's bigger than she expects - and fiercer. Built as she is, she'd normally flee such a situation. She's skin and bones, light as a feather and quick as one. But she could never leave her brother in danger.

Theres no milk-scent clinging to the fox, and with numbers on their side she decides it worth the risk - circling from her hiding place in the undergrowth, waiting until the fox has the loners ear snuggly in its jaws before darting forwards - strong jaws and sharp teeth snatching the bright bushy tail and pulling with all the force her body can muster. She tastes blood on her beneath the carrion stench and filthy fur, and as soon as she see's the creature stumble she's already scurrying back - green gaze narrowed in focus ears flattening at the starclan-awful noise it makes.

"doesn't this thing ever shut up?" she says quietly, clearly irritated if she's resorting to talking to herself, pelt fluffed up in a sad attempt at intimidation. She glances between Granitepaw and the stranger, as though trying to get her point across that the it's the their turn to do something, though her eyes never leave the predator for long. She's not stupid enough to stick her neck out while the thing is staring right at her after all. She'd like to keep living thank you.

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[smogstar]

Smogmaw's black-tipped ears detect nothing beyond the faint rustling of newly-sprouted leaves. No birds sing among the treetops, nor do frogs croak from their miry pools. A lull. A perfect stillness which lifts the burden of recent events. Every inhale of loam-stink air is an unhealthy thought cleansed from his mind. He does not feel at peace, for he never feels at peace. Yet, there's no denying the sedative effect that the ambiance has on him—it isn't every day he's comfortable in his own fur, after all.

An abrupt yowl would splinter the serenity. It jolts him, and pins his ears to his skull and nastily fluffs up his tail. Within moments is he standing upon all fours, training his vision on the area from which the sound arose. The cry was too shrill to immediately assign a name to, but it's without a doubt that whomever it belonged to was in a terrible situation. Smogmaw does not think on it any longer. The deputy breaks off on long strides, sprinting through the reeds and underbrush toward whatever hell was unfolding.

Not many moments elapse before he comes upon the scene, and a second jolt shoots through his frame when he sees what he sees. "FOX!" the tom bellows, in an effort to both divert the creature and alert nearby clanmates to its presence. There's too little time to take stock all of those present, or even consider his own injuries before making his next move. All he knows is this beast lingers within mauling distance of Granitepaw, a mistake that would prove to be its last.

Claws unsheathe, gripping the soil beneath them. "I'll wear your pelt like a twoleg!" storms Smogmaw, who plunges into a charge shortly thereafter. The movement in his hind legs hurts like hell, as the clawmarks left by WindClan's leader distend with every pawstep. Whatever pain he feels shall pale in comparison to what he inflicts on his feral adversary, however, as he outstretches his front limbs and seeks to bring his claws down the thing's eyes. ​

 

[mottlefox]

It's about now that the loner realises that things happen really quickly in a fight. Her mind catches up enough to realise the fox had jolted midway through tearing at her ear and she'd grunted, twisting to get free (ow, ow, ow-) as another stranger with oaken fur yanks at the fox's tail. For a moment, the fawn-and-white cat is taken aback, ears warming over the save with mixed gratitude and a fleeting acknowledgement that this stranger was a very pretty stranger. Before the loner could get too, distracted, however, another cry splits the air:

"I'll wear your pelt like a twoleg!"

The battle cry comes from a silvery tom, large and battle-worn, as he storms into the fray and rears up to claw at the fox's eyes. Oh. Now that is the most badass thing she's ever heard. The loner grins, baring sharp teeth - half in warning to the fox, half in sheer delight over the phrase - and they tuck it away in a little mental box to think about when they're sad. Skies above, that fucking rocks.

"Trip it over!" They suggest, darting underneath the predator - while it's distracted by the to-be-introduced Smogmaw, she would try to bite at one of its hind legs to unbalance the stupid thing.

// next post can powerplay the fox running off!<3
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[GRANITEPELT]

Granitepaw winces for the trespasser as one of her ears is sheared through like spidersilk by the fox's fangs. Blood drips down their face, and it's clear by their hiss that the injury stings; still, she stands her ground, either brave or stupid. The gray tom grits his teeth at Dogfur, who seems more caught up in apprehending the outsider than he does in saving his apprentice. "Will you help or not, frogbrain?" He spits crossly at the tortoiseshell.

Help arrives, thank StarClan. Siltpaw and Smogmaw, both with their claws unsheathed and their teeth bared. The fox is heavily outnumbered now; a fighting force of ShadowClan warriors and this strange rogue is enough to drive most predators back and away. The mottled-pelted she-cat rushes beneath the fox and yips out, "Trip it over!"

Granitepaw is quick, bolstered by a desire to see the vicious thing off. He darts directly toward the dog fox and uses his upper body strength to thrust his shoulders into it's chest. The creature snarls, off-kilter and rethinking its choice to try and have Granitepaw as a meal. Wounded, bleeding, and furious, the dog fox bolts, its tail nothing but a crimson brush in the marsh grass.

He's left panting with the other cats, watching it go. "We should make sure it leaves our territory," he growls, his thin tail whipping behind him, but it's then he remembers: this fox-fighting she-cat is not a ShadowClan cat, and therefore, also does not belong on his territory.

He whirls on her confrontationally, though the quick movement reminds him of the grazed shoulder. Granitepaw winces; it's shallow, but it stings like hell. His tone has lost a significant amount of hostility as he growls, "And you -- why are you here? Why did you help me?" Granitepaw thinks the loner must have some end goal, something they want -- why else help a complete stranger?

He looks at Smogmaw suspiciously, wonder if the deputy would order them to drive her away.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[mottlefox]

"Yeah, that's right! Get outta here!" The sepia rises to stand and, for good measure, kicks some of the soil after the retreating figure. Hopefully she wouldn't meet that same angry fox later on in the day. The grey-pelted tom who she'd originally saved turns to her, scowling, and after a moment of staring at him blankly they realise that they ... don't have an answer for that question. Why did she save him?

"I dunno. Right thing to do, I guess? I was passing by over uhhhh," they turn their head back and forth, zeroing in on the trampled, parted grass they'd strung through but a few moments before. Ah! They jerk their chin towards it when it's within eyeshot, somewhere behind the badass one with the silver fur now. "Over there when I heard the commotion. Outside the borders, of course, wouldn't trespass without good reason; youse are scary when you wanna be." A small purr. "Wouldn't wanna be that fox right now."

Their ears pin back briefly and they wince, remembering the chunk now missing from one of them as the adrenaline of a fight starts to wear off. Owie, that was gonna hurt in the morning. Speaking of injuries, they turn their head back to the fox's original (failed) meal. "Hey, is your shoulder good though? Looked like that fox was gonna gut you before I jumped on it, hey."

— info

•  
• 
  unnamed. tags.
  — she/they, loner
  — attack in #F2A290. scrappy fighter.
  — penned by mercibun; @ me in any official tabbytales discord for plots. :]
  

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[smogstar]

What moments would ensue were blisteringly chaotic. Claw-tips rend through the fox's facial tissue, defiling the red fur along its eyes and muzzle with an even richer crimson. The creature's immediate lurch is at first perceived as an act of recoiling, but a cursory glance informs him of Granitepaw's concurrent counterattack—an unyielding slam into its torso, which propels the fox into an evasive sprint. Battered, bloodied, and beaten, it hastily retreats into the safety of the thick vegetation, its bushy tail the last thing to leave Smogmaw's peripheral before being enveloped by swamp reeds.

The deputy's line of vision would then linger on the reeds, eyes peeled for glimpses of scarlet fur. All the while, the adrenaline he'd been rejuvenated with begins to ebb away, reintroducing the soreness from old wounds in its stead. It feels as though his recovery from Sootstar's aggression has been undone. Exhales become chronic whilst inhales grow shallow, and the deputy can only sit himself on the marsh floor in his malaise.

A couple of those around him initiate in dialogue, and he identifies Granitepaw's voice among the two. The other belongs to the stranger, the fawn-furred, apprentice-aged she-cat who'd also crossed into their territory as the fox had. Only she did not show aggression, she came to the defense of someone unknown; a move some may regard as noble, though Smogmaw simply saw it as foolhardy. Granitepaw was right to side-eye him dubiously.

"Before I bid you thanks," he begins, his gravelly tone coming to a halt as he scrutinises her own injuries, "or even think about providing you aid, I must know one thing: what are you? Kittypet? Loner? Rogue?" The justification for her intrusion, her assertion that it was the 'right thing to do', was anecdotal for all he cared. Nobody willingly places themselves in harm's path without foreseeing a benefit from doing so. Thus begs the question - what were her motivations?

A lateral glance of Granitepaw's marred form is enough for him to deduce that the stranger posed no further threat, at the very least. Had she not come along, it's safe to say that a more gruesome outcome would have taken place. "I concur," Smogmaw then says, speaking on the apprentice's recommendation before his gaze flicks to @DOGFUR. "Follow in its trail," he says, "keep watch for pawprints, blood, or any shit it's left behind. And @Siltcloud., you need to fetch Chilledstar." While he holds enough power to enforce a decision right here and right now, the deputy feels it to be wiser in allowing his leader to call the shots in this situation. ​

 

[mottlefox]

The fawn-furred loner listens intently as the badass one with the silver fur speaks next, inadvertently introducing Dogfur as the tortoiseshell who had yelled out and done nothing to help; and Siltpaw as the pretty cat who had tugged the fox away from doing more damage to them. Fetching someone named Chilledstar ... their leader, maybe? But the loner stiffens as they're singled out once more, stretching themself up to their full height at attention as his coppery eyes land back on her with the question of what is she. She blinks mismatched eyes at him for a moment, gawping, before he provides examples.

"Uhh. Oh! Loner! I don't know how kittypets can spend all their time in those twoleg dens, don't you think their collars would get itchy? Like that would be so uncomfy." She pulls a face. "And If I was a rogue, I would have left him to di- hey what's your name, anyway?" Attention diverted sharply left most of the way through her answer, she turns luminous eyes once more towards the original cat she'd come to the rescue of.

— info

•  
• 
  unnamed. tags.
  — she/they, loner
  — attack in #F2A290. scrappy fighter.
  — penned by mercibun; @ me in any official tabbytales discord for plots. :]
  

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[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

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"you could have left him to die regardless of your status. or lack thereof."

the frigid tone calls as the leader's paws lead them to stand somewhat near the gathering of csts who seem to have chased off a fox. granitepaw would have been nothing but fox chow had it not been for this supposed loner, and chilledstar would have been stuck explaining that the bits and pieces of his body left behind was actually him to a likely in denial siltpaw, and starlingheart. with a grunt, their eyes scan over with unamusement. the stench the vulpine left behind leaves but a bitter taste in their mouth, and their ears swivel in and out for a moment before they turn to look at the mess left behind. this was sure to bring more predators than they could afford to fight.

"not many cats who would care to help a cat that they do not know... how old are you, kit? and where is your family? why are you out here fighting for someone who knows you not."

they ask. they don't trust the kit, but they're young enough to be stupid enough to fight a battle that was not their own. they cannot fault them for that. they've done that before. more times than they care to admit. it got them no where.

"let's get everyone back to camp and checked up on, yes? I'll have the hunting patrol bring the injured prey as needed. and as for you... I wish to speak with you. you have a name?"

//consider her officially accepted !!! chilled will make the decision official after a meeting but will likely assign a mentor to keep an extra eye on mottle!
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