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Tori

Hey! it’s me, Goku!
Dec 4, 2024
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// references This thread!

Despite outward appearances, there was no malice in Tori's heart as he padded away from the twolegplace once again.​
He wasn't fully healed - still a bit bruised (and man was he sore), but the fire in the battle-addict's belly was undimmed.

The kittypet was even replaying the fight in his mind as he walked, sliding and swiping in the snow, reminiscing on each blow given and taken (mostly taken) like it was a fond memory. Those two - an invisible brow furrowed for a moment as Tori tried to remember their names - Twitchblossom and Cherrybolt; they'd really beat him good!

"I hope I see them again." That was one of the few thoughts rattling around a rather empty, ash-covered head as he casually padded over the border-he-didn't-know-was-a-border for the second time. "They got mad at me for scaring off their food, so I should be quieter. Maybe they'll fight me again if I'm respectful?" Well they'd sure as hell beat the boy again if he wasn't, but that was no way to make friends. A small frown crossed flaming features as Tori realized he'd forgotten to bring his food bowl as an apology.

However, that rare frown quickly turned into a wide smile as sky-blue eyes spotted a group of cats trudging through the snow. Remembering his manners, Tori bit his tongue to keep from alerting every piece of prey in Skyclan. Other cats would sit still, patiently waiting for the patrol to come to them, but tori was not the patient type. Instead of sitting, the kittypet began to jump about wildly, flailing his legs and tail in an effort to get the group's attention (for he might just yell if he thought the chance for a good fight was slipping away).

Thankfully for him - and Skyclan's bellies - the ploy worked, and the kittypet practically shook with excitement as the patrol turned to meet him. "Hey!" He greeted, ashy tail waving in the cold. "I'm Tori! I got beat by Twitchcherry and Boltblossom the last time I came here. Can I fight one of you guys this time?" Sparkling eyes flicked amongst the confused (and quite possibly annoyed) group, wondering with excitement if there was anyone in Skyclan he could beat.​
 
A walking stormcloud shoots an amber glare toward the excitable tom cat, Slatesnarl's disheveled and wild coat giving him the appearance of a grumpy badger. Ivory daggers knead the snow-covered earth, bushy tail whipping with mounting irritation as the stranger unabashedly challenges the patrol while standing on their turf. Who did he think he was? "We don't have time for your games, kittypet." Slatesnarl spits with a curled lip, revealing toothy canines that ached to rip and tear. Orangestar may have had him on a short leash, giving him the evil eye whenever he turned his nose up toward his twoleg-obeying ( and most times soft-natured) Daylight clanmates, but kittypets were still a prime subject of his prejudice. They were house pets through and through, shamelessly wolfing down the mushy slop that was provided for them while they reclined on a plush pillow and watched the world go by through a glass pane. Daylight Warriors like Johnnyflame had earned their keep and proven their worth. Slatesnarl could not stand the other pets who frolicked about the pines, treating their survival and suffering like some joke.

The former lead warrior's groaning stomach only cuts his fuse even shorter. Hunger—desperation—threatens to revert Slatesnarl back to that greedy, battle-hungry street rogue he once was. The Maine Coon was never skilled at maintaining a calm composure and he certainly was less inclined to do so now that his body was running out of fuel. "I'll gladly kick your ass if it'll get you out of my sight quicker." Slatesnarl refuses to admit that his hip still gives him grief, especially in the cold. He doesn't believe that his stiff joint would hinder his ability to beat a kittypet in a fight. His own kits surely had more bite in them than this fool.

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  • 75375484_vL7mDl6wNERV2mI.png
    — slatesnarl / 45 moons / he/him
    — skyclan warrior & former lead warrior
    — mate to orangestar / father to lambkit & ramkit
    — lh solid black maine coon w/ rusting, amber eyes. scars litter his form but are prominently present on his face.
    click for tags[/abbr]
 
Being groundbound leaves Cherryblossom a little awkward and a lot slower. The patch-pelted molly shuffles morosely through the snow, her displeasure sticking to her face as stubbornly at the snowballs on her belly. Maybe she'd be better served if she were a shorter-haired cat like Figfeather or—Edenberry. The shadow of a grimace crosses her muzzle. Yes, she'd much rather deal with being cold sometimes than needing to spend half a day grooming herself after a patrol, especially when guaranteed shelter awaited her.

Slatesnarl's growl seems to come right out of his belly. She catches just the tail of it as she traipses into earshot, yellows flicking from his smoky silhouette to the stouter one he looms over. Recognition, confusion, then consternation each flash through her gaze, which at last narrows with a scowl. "You again?" Cherryblossom stares at the scruffy tomcat with something approaching astonishment. The sooty tip of her tail twitches. "Did you not, like, learn your lesson the first time?" He might've learned a lesson, actually: it wasn't him she heard this time, but her old mentor.

Still, it was Leaf-bare. With Oakrumble, Flowercloud, Falcongaze, and Fawnwhisker gone in just the past moon, no SkyClanner could afford to waste energy kindly beating back a cheeky kittypet. Cherryblossom, at least, didn't feel anywhere close to being in the mood to either. "We don't have the time for this," she groans, rolling her eyes. "Take a hint and beat it, kittypet."
 


A half-frown, half-smile formed across ashen features as Slatesnarl made his opinions known. Tori wasn't put off by the insult and subsequent challenge, he was more wondering if this disheveled tom could give him a real challenge. A flame-scorched head cocked to the side in contemplation as he sized up the wall of fur. "He seems more pelt than muscle, but I shouldn't underestimate him. The other Skyclanners taught me that already."

Speaking of the others, sky-blue eyes sparked in recognition when Cherryblossom traipsed up behind Tori's challenger, equally unamused at the battle-addict's trespassing. That was fine, though. He had enough enthusiasm to share. "Hey there, Cherrytwitch!" Tori started like he was greeting an old friend, giggling at her remark, acting like it was in jest.. "I learned that you guys are really good fighters! That's enough of a lesson, right? I've been practicing, too."

eyes filled with the energy of a kit flicked back and forth between the two as the apprentice-age tom thought for a moment before bouncing in place, shaking errant snow off unkempt fur. "Ooh! Ooh! This is perfect! I'll fight this old guy-" Tori's tail flicking to Slatesnarl, "-and you can watch! You can tell me if I've improved since last time, y'know?"

Without waiting for a response (or possible denial), Tori hopped back before assuming his almost-correct combat stance, turning towards Slatesnarl. "I'll make the first move, if that's all right. You Sky guys are tough, so I think I deserve it. I don't use claws, though. Fighting's no fun if you're not alive to get better after." The battle-addict gave a respectful bow of the head to his opponent, seemingly unconcerned if the furious former lead warrior would follow his lead, before moving.

Tori charged forwards, lunging at the last moment and attempting to strike Slatesnarl square in the face with a sheathed paw.
 
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Figfeather trudges through the snow just beside Cherryblossom. While she was use to transversing the forest on the ground, it was always difficult getting use to the snow hindering her path again. On days where they got a lot, Figfeather could hardly keep up with her patrol and she grew near useless at hunting. What a miserable time of the year this was.

Slatesnarl is a few fox-lengths ahead of them, Figfeather can hear him growling at somebody already. She quickens her pace to get into earshot with Cherryblossom. Her eyes scan the scene to spot an orange and black tom-cat with a light blue collar. His high-energy and enthusiasm was suffocating to a wild cat who could barely get around her own home anymore.

"You know this cat?" She glances to Cherryblossom questioningly. How often did this cat come here to bother her clanmates? How many times has he been told to bug off? At least once she gathers from context clues.

Her patience is snapped easier than a twig when the tom lunges at Slatesnarl. The big brute was plenty capable of handling his own by all means, but she wasn't the type to just let a cat even try to plummet a clanmate. She lunges forward and aims to clamp her fangs around his collar. If successful, she gives him a good pushover in an effort to send him into the snow.

"We fight with claws here—not to get better, but to survive." She spat at him, "So if you don't want to lose your pelt get lost. You've been warned once, twice, we'll give you some real wounds to lick if you make us warn you again." Orange eyes bore into the blue eyes of the kittypet as her fur raised to make her look three times the amount of feline she actually was. Slatesnarl was right, they didn't have time for this kittypet's games.
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