Illusion Fills My Head Like An Empty Can (Tugger)


Himbo? I hardly know her
Jun 13, 2022

Some would explain Cow’s constant happiness by saying he had a good head on his shoulders. Others would say it was because he had no head on his shoulders. It didn’t matter to the boneheaded bovine, he would be friends with both groups (whether they wanted it or not). One cat who fell firmly into the second group had been seen sulking around camp for the past few days, and that was something the bi-chromatic boy couldn’t oblige.

Cow didn’t know exactly what was wrong with tugger. He’d heard through the grapevine that it had something to do with a girl, which was the idiot’s self-proclaimed area of expertise. However, even he had enough social tact to see that the sunrise-orange cat was taking it pretty rough and wasn’t in the mood for the lover boy’s usual antics, so he was dead set on taking this situation seriously.

However, “serious” for Cow was a far cry from any other cat’s definition.

“Hey, buddy!” The boy called as he approached, not caring if Tugger took offense to the moniker. After all, all the cats in skyclan were his buddies! (As well as everyone from the other clans, but he kept quiet about that just in case Blazestar got prickly). “You okay? Must be rough, what you’re going through. Still, time heals all wounds, and all that. Though, I’d say a nice piece of prey works faster. Want one?”


He hated him. In truth, Tugger hated all loud, confident idiots with no awareness for how their imbecilic words sounded to anybody but themselves but he did hold a special sort of dislike for the one they called Cow. He was a flirt with no tact, a stud with no dams, and an absolute travesty genetically (Tugger guessed this, of course, but clearly he was never wrong when it came to proper breeding, what with himself as the pedigreee standard.) From where he stood and down the bridge of Tugger's very short muzzle, Cow was not worth a lick on his backside.

And yet, his stomached rolled and moaned when the damned thing mentioned food. It had been.... a bit.... since Tugger had consumed anything and he could feel hunger tearing at his insides like a vulture. He raises his head to greet the thing, round, dull eyes meeting exuberant green as reluctantly as one can do.

"As long as it wasn't caught by your graceless claws." He grumbles in return. Acceptance.
✦ ★ ✦

“The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” It seemed that old adage held true, even when it came to a sour-puss like Tugger. Cow let out a short bark of laughter at the other’s acquiescence, letting the attempted insult bounce off of him like water on rock. “Whatever you say, man” The bovine responded before bounding over to the prey pile, returning moments later with a fat, juicy squirrel.

“I tried to find one that I hadn’t caught, like you said, but its hard. They all kinda look the same once they’re dead, y’know?” Setting the savory morsel down, Cow settled on the opposite side of Tugger, prepared to share. “See, I bet you’re already feeling better! Ready to get back in the saddle, eh?” Cow’s lack of experience was speaking volumes, but it seemed random turns-of-phrase were carrying him so far. How many more did he have queued up anyway? It wasn’t like there was a lot of storage space upstairs…

Regardless, Cow was just happy to be helping out a friend. Or, at least trying to. “Plenty of fish in the sea, y’know. You’ll bounce back, I’m sure of it!”