sensitive topics GIRL WITH ONE EYE - private

[vixenblood]

Twolegplace bustles during the day. A cacophony greets Vixen wherever she turns, the rumbling babble of life all around her. The immortal upwalkers, for she has never once seen them age beyond their adult size, coo and lay their gentle but foul paws across her skinny shoulders, in exchange for a pawful of pellets added to the dish that she calls her own. Then they leave her be, backing away when she hisses, allowing Vixen to eat her first meal of the day in peace.

She leaves after that, tortoiseshell fur slipping between a crack in the fence, a withering glance sent to the pine trees that loom behind another row of upwalker dens. Ever since those weird rogues from the mountains had come by and told Vixen about the forest cats who call the pines home, she's done so; as if the power of her glare would do anything to scare the trees into submission. She thinks, longingly, of having gone with them. She'd missed her chance, though ... but maybe she could do her own thing from the far side of the forest.

Movement catches her eye from where she crouches in the shadow of one of the upwalker waste dens, unfamiliar paws too close to where she hides from the searing sun. She considers, briefly, a warning. Calling out to this dappled stranger, lean and muscled in the way no loner or rogue is, to let him know they he's trespassing on the little patch of twolegplace she's claimed for her own. Would it scare him off? Would he stand and fight? A fight would be nice, she thinks. Why should she warn him? He can't wriggle his way out of that if it's a surprise.

With a shrill noise, near a purr in its amusement, Vixen darts from behind the metal box, claws unsheathed, and attempts to hook her claws in this stranger's hindleg.

// @TATTEREDLIGHT
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[TATTEREDLIGHT]

just because i carry it so well doesn't mean it's not heavy .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

A simple walk should suffice, right? Tatteredlight frowned, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, barely avoiding puncturing the delicate flesh. He guided his paws forward with no designation in mind, but to relive the past — Duststorm called him sentimental and the three-legged warrior couldn't help but chuckle, unable to deny the statement.

He padded forward, calloused paw pads skidding across the pavement, in no hurry to return to camp when a sharp, mind-numbing pain shot up his hindleg, startling the tom with a stumbled shout, jerking the mentioned limb away from whatever had caused it. His body tensed, shifting awkwardly to stare at the stranger with wide, odd blue hues, maw settled into a grim line.

What? "Why—" His throat bubbled, uncertainly spanning across his chest, heartbeat thumping harshly. "Who are you?" He uttered, teeth gritting at the pain, unable to shift to ease the prickling sensation.

His thoughts strayed to his encounter with Slitcloud, familiarity bubbling up wondering if — Tatteredlight halted those thoughts, odd hues sharpening. No. No this isn't that. Slitcloud was a friend. The scarred warrior frowned. This stranger wasn't. "Go away. I don't want to hurt you." His timbre remained strong despite his wavering heart, pleading for the stranger to leave. ​

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thought speech​

 

[vixenblood]

Her claws catch. A twisted grin tugs at the edge of Vixen's maw as she whirls, the shout of her opponent earning something akin to a flinch from the jittery tortoiseshell. They don't seem amused, though ... Vixen hums, tilting her head slightly to one side. His tattered ears twitch backwards, hers forwards, in some unspoken game.

"I don't think you could," Vixen trills, chartreuse eyes alight with the river-rushing thrill of a fight lapping at her claws. She doesn't answer the question as to who she is; it doesn't matter. She doesn't care what theirs is; why should they care about hers? Vixen bares her teeth at this stranger with the unusual eyes, entranced, and swipes her tongue across her pale jaws. "It's no fun if you don't fight back."

Without waiting for a response she tenses, darting forward in a flash of claws and to the side, hoping to catch the cream-and-white tomcat in her feint. He would join her in this game one way or another. If successful Vixen would then dive forward from a crouch, teeth snapping at their throat.

ooc ✧ 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘫𝘶𝘥𝘢𝘴

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• VIXEN ✧ she/they, rogue
  
  
  — "a lean tortoiseshell with yellow-green eyes."
  — single ; no allegiance
  — speech is in #AC315A
  — tags | penned by mercibun, contact on discord for plots.
  
  
  
  

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[TATTEREDLIGHT]

just because i carry it so well doesn't mean it's not heavy .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

One of these days his pacifist nature would get him killed. Duststorm had said so since they'd reunited, scolding him after various flesh wounds. Tatteredlight merely chuckled, offering a warm-hearted grin and a friendly bump to the shoulder, easily manipulating the subject to something lighter. The scarred warrior never did like talking about himself — his past the scars that littered his body as a firm reminder of what he did.

Better me than someone else! He'd always chirp to another scar added to the hundreds of others marking pale flesh.

The pain in his leg throbbed, mind flaring with dread at the comment, unable to twist himself out of the way in time as teeth sank into his neck ripping a strangled cry from the warrior. His throat burned, mind blurry and messy, unaware of the warbled whine that escaped his maw asking for his brother.

You can't run away forever, Tatteredlight. His brother's voice reprimanded him, worry etched against a scornful face. I'll be fine. Tatteredlight had hummed, ignoring the heavy implications.

One day, running wouldn't work. He'd known that.

His pacifist nature was a ticking time bomb, dodging bullets expertly, and running until he couldn't. That was life. It'd always been.

The odd-hued warrior stumbled, collapsing against the rough pavement with a broken cough, teeth-gritting against the pain, willing his body to cooperate, to stand and find his brother, to do something then lay in a pool of crimson. Ah. I'm dying. Tattered thought meekly, letting out a mirthless chuckle, rueful against the copper taste in his mouth. Tatteredlight had always hoped he'd die without regrets, but not this time, it seemed, body giving a full-blown shudder till his flank lay silent, odd hues falling lifeless.

////

Staring at his body was an odd experience when a black-and-white tom appeared with mischievous copper hues grinning. "Heyo!" The stranger chirped, grinning wickedly at the now deceased. "Up you get! We've got dead cats to meet! Things to stare at! Gossip to be done!" He shuffled Tatteredlight forward, humming a merry tune despite the grim atmosphere leaving the fawn-colored tabby dumbfounded.

"Come on! Move that rump kid!" Tatteredlight shuffled, staring at his frame with a quiet laugh, odd hues crinkled. "Okay." He whispered, twisting around to follow the starry feline.

Thank you … for everything. ​

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thought speech​