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[url=https://tabbytales.net/threads/ive-been-feeling-twisted-tigerscar.9589/][color=white]BIOGRAPHY AND TAGS[/color][/url][/center][/font][font=ms gothic][color=white][/color][/font][/box][font=ms gothic][color=white][justify][BOX=65%][hr][/hr]
[justify][font=tahoma]The day is good. Warm, breezy, pleasant. And finally, [I]finally,[/I] Tigerfrost feels his own confidence again, feels as if he moves with less pain, strides without fear of injuries cracking apart once more. Over two weeks since the raid. Two weeks, trapped in camp, a prisoner of his own home, permitted beyond the hollow for little more than water and the occasional border patrol. Now, though, he runs. He lurks in the tall grass. He listens, smells, and sees all that darts through the heather and dandelions. The Lead Warrior feels [I]alive [/I]again.
Briefly does he pause in his hunting, letting the wind tug at his short fur, whisper scents into his flaring nostrils, promises of a pleasant day. Nearby, he hears a sound, nearly silent. It's the scrabbling of tiny claws against the grass. A mouse among the flowers of a lavender patch. Tigerfrost is a runner, not a prowler, but still he crouches as he has long done before, creeps ever closer to his prey. The wind favors him, blowing his scent away, allowing him within range to pounce. One leap, a paw upon a warm bodied rodent. There's a shrill noise of fear, cut suddenly short. The mouse is a small prize, but rarely caught. Who wouldn't mind a bit of variety among the rabbits and hares of their pile?
But Tigerfrost smells something else, then. Something different. Not a mouse. He lifts his nose, ears twitching, recognizes the scent after only a few moments. Somewhere nearby, another WindClanner lurked. The dusty hued tom picks up his mouse, carried gently between razor tipped teeth. Then, on sturdy paws, he sets out to investigate, to pry into whatever it was this other cat might be doing. He has the authority, after all, to observe his fellow warriors, to insure that they were not doing anything devious in the bushes somewhere. After Dandelionwish, Tigerfrost believes that one cannot be too careful.
But the cat he sights is a newer warrior, not one Tigerfrost has ever been suspicious of. Ramwind. The other's eyes are to the sky, and he does not seem to notice the cunning presence of the sleek feathered corvid nearby, picking at a recent catch, it seemed. Tigerfrost drops his mouse, parts his jaws in warning- too late. Shadowy wings unfurl, and the crow takes to the breeze without much effort. All Ramwind can do is voice a bit of dejected protest, all for naught, it seemed. Tigerfrost snorts. Luckily for Ramwind, it was new-leaf. Prey would be plentiful for the next several moons.
[COLOR=rgb(209, 72, 65)]"Suppose you'd better catch another."[/COLOR] Tigerfrost suggests simply, flat vocals betraying his location in the tall grass nearby. The Lead Warrior feels little pity for the other WindClan cat, after all, it had been his own distracted nature that had caused the loss of the prey. Tigerfrost, on the other hand, has no intentions of losing his. A paw presses lightly over the body of his mouse, shielding it from any other crows that might be lurking nearby. [COLOR=rgb(209, 72, 65)]"Or try again later."[/COLOR] Either way, Tigerfrost is sure Ramwind will re-gather his wits soon enough.
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