Looking like the living dead |-| Ravenous trespasser

[Tomb]

Deep in the storied forest that makes up the home of the near-mythical wildcats resides a two leg den near a cemetery, stationed in one of the meager safe spaces occupied by the ever-ignorant twolegs. Inside that very abode is Tomb, a black tabby who lives the good life with his owner Stone. Even though he has everything he could possibly need, occasionally he is struck with a bolt of adventurous spirit and forces himself to go outside. Evidently, today is one such day, as the small white fence gate is nudged open as the cat in question blearily exits his safe haven, padding on to the main road. The asphalt beneath his feet is refreshing and gives a feeling to his steps far different than the much more familiar wooden floor even as the sun's heat burns his pads and the rough texture lightly scrapes them.

After walking a bit, Tomb stops, looking as though thoughtfully considering his options. A short while after, he cuts a sharp right and steps off the sunny path of monsters into the cool and mysterious atmosphere that is the forest. There is a trail in the dirt, though it doesn't look used by humans somehow, which intrigues the tom the more he pads down the path. After a bit more moving, he smells something oddly delicious and pinpoints it as prey, but has no idea exactly what it is. His stomach releases a strange sound, a combination of a whine and a grumble and a growl and he remembers stupidly not having breakfast before this hike. Picking up the pace, he'd follow the scent, disregarding all the grime and muck and falling leaves that increasingly decorated his once shiny pelt.

Hm. Maybe my target is something Stone likes as well. I brought home a rabbit once, and he made it into a liquid, which was weird. Still, it was amazingly delicious. He said something too, “Rab..id Stu?” Well, whatever. He’d think, keeping his ears alert as another grumble rang out. Looking down at his feet with a near pitiable expression as pangs of hunger bloomed across his body, he’d press forward, regretting the decision to even make the trip. Along the path was a dead grouse, and the brown tabby stood over it, practically salivating at the thought of ripping off chunks of delicious flesh. He would have done so, but a small bit of his soul held him back, the dishonor of interrupting the napping avian and killing it far worse than his appetite being low. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't wake up the doomed creature and cruelly kill it shortly afterward, so he prodded it a couple times as he chuckled to himself, licking his lips in anticipation of a hearty snack.

However, the bird did not wake up and in fact remained fully "asleep", a fact that was met with an expression of both fury and sadness, melding into one to form a frustrated grimace upon his face. Still, he could relate to the grouse's laziness and possible irritability, remembering the first time Stone had tried to touch him during nap time with their twoleg flesh sticks (Fingers lol). There had been a lot of clawing...and bandages...and involuntary outside time, which may have been the first time he had pushed aside the gate and found his way to the forest. Not wanting to exert more effort than he already had, he ruefully scoffed and stormed off, now fully focused on hunting and killing his prey as hunger once again clawed at his belly as he shivered from the sudden gust of wind through the leaves.

At this point, the ravenous kittypet was so fixated upon the promise of a meal and the suddenly irresistible smell coming from his target that he didn’t even stop to consider the odd smell that permeated the area he now wandered through. Realizing he was finally close to whatever was being so unfortunately (for them) delicious, he slips down into an untrained hunting stance and begins creeping through the long grasses that are his only chance of pulling off the catch.

As Tomb is stalking forward, a painfully pointy rock stabs into his paw, causing the embarrassingly unskilled hunter-to-be to yelp in pain, cursing to himself as he hears tiny footsteps run off and quickly realizes it’s over. Standing up, he’d look around and quickly figure out that he was totally, utterly, and completely lost, the bushes and trees looking practically identical in every direction. Unfortunately, his outburst had not only scared off his prey, but also attracted attention as the sound of footsteps echoed closer and closer.

Well. This is great. He’d think bitterly, turning to face the potential threat.​

 

[Orangestar]

— info

• // welcome! @eveningpaw apprentice tag<3
  
  — — —
• 
  orangeblossom. tags.
  — she/her, skyclan deputy.
  — mentor to eveningpaw.
  — attack in #e08550. uses trees as an integral part of her fighting style.
  — mean enough to note that her thoughts don't reflect my opinions as a writer.
  — penned by mercibun; @ me in any official tabbytales discord for plots. :]
  — fullbody by merc!<3

"No, I definitely heard something."

Oh, how nice it is to be back in the trees, even if she's favouring her bad leg after a day of pain recently. Orangeblossom bends her limbs against the swaying bough beneath her, turning back to face Eveningpaw with a small, deliberate frown as a warm breeze ruffles her long pelt. It's just the two of them for once, though there's likely other SkyClanners in the vicinity, but the yelp that split the air a few heartbeats prior is notably not a Clanmate of theirs.

Her whiskers twitch, a rare flicker of mischief crossing scarred features and crinkling brown eyes at their corners.

"D'you think it'll be another kittypet or a rogue?" Realistically, it could be either. But they're a bit further from the border than they'd usually find either, which makes her wonder if they're to deal with an unusually brave trespasser ... or an entirely stupid one. She settles on the latter when, crossing from branch to branch in elevated trails which have only grown stronger in her time spent away from them, Orangeblossom catches sight of the culprit.

If she could catch a piece of prey for every time they'd had a kittypet wander across their borders in the past quarter moon, SkyClan would be able to eat for the next season- and she'd only been out a pawful of times! And this is anything but a rogue, with his faintly terrified expression and the green bandanna tied tightly around his throat. She drops gingerly down to a lower branch, rustling leaves in her wake, and blinks at this grey-furred stranger as he finally turns green eyes upwards.

"This is SkyClan land." Her ears twitch as she calls down to him, not quite hostile but certainly unimpressed. "Are you lost?"
​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Orangeblossom's instinctual feeling that there were other Skyclanners nearby was correct- Twitchbolt and his own apprentice were practicing stalking not far away, though their training too had been interrupted by a trespasser's disturbance. A strange scent and stranger footsteps, fairly deep into the territory- at least for a wanderer- brushed Twitchbolt's patchwork pelt into bristles. Wide mismatched eyes of wild wariness settled upon Doompaw, then- and he asked the younger tom, "Hear that?" Attention narrowed in the direction of the noise, before his crooked tail flicked in a beckoning motion. "Keep your- your- wits about you."

He closed in, peering at the dark figure from the bushes. Olivine eyes briefly lifted to spot the namesake pelt of Orangeblossom in the trees too, the deputy clearly having wasted no time in getting back to what SkyClan was known for. Her question rang clear and simple, void of aggression but also hardly welcoming; and he didn't blame her. Twitchbolt's suspicions sprawled more obviously, his frame feverishly shaking with anticipation, his muscles coiled. No claws leapt free, yet... but he wouldn't withhold them if they were needed.

He peered more obviously from the bushes, now. This trespasser would know they were surrounded, if they tried anything.

\ @DOOMPAW apprentice tag B)​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[DOOMPAW]

Doompaw thinks he likes being high up, but climbing itself is no easy feat. His claws are sore from gripping bark, and he’s about to open his mouth and remind Twitchbolt again that climbing sucks and is for birdbrains, but the brown and white warrior has halted, enormous wild eyes shifting to meet his. “Hear that?” His new mentor asks. Doompaw tilts his head. “No,” he says. “What am I s’posed to be hearing?” His voice is loud enough to scare away every bird in the near vicinity. It takes him several moments before he can detect Orangeblossom’s ginger-splashed pelt, her apprentice’s cream-and-gray body, and then there’s a cat on the forest floor. One he doesn’t recognize.

“A trespasser!” He hollers, his tail fluffing out behind him. “You’re tryin’ to take our prey!” The skinny tortoiseshell’s wolfish features crinkle up into an insane grin. “I’m gonna flay ‘im! Watch me, Twitchbolt!” He clumsily attempts to scramble down the trunk, giving the trespasser plenty of time to react before he hurtles in the tabby’s general direction in an attempt to knock him over.

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — doomguy . doomkit . doompaw
  — afab, he/him, apprentice of skyclan
  — unknown sexuality ; single
  — short-haired blue tortoiseshell with white and green eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette

​

 

[eveningsun]

eveningpaw heard nothing, fixed her mentor with a quizzical glance as she swore she did. it was too far into the territory for her to accept the possibility of another lurking, friend or not. however, the pained yelp that sounded was undeniable. blatantly not skyclan.

orangeblossom's playful glance could not be more different from her apprentice's reaction. soft pelt fluffed, her sunset tail seemed twice it's normal size. a kittypet or a rogue, hopefully it was not the latter. "gotta be a kittypet," eve decided, half a prayer to starclan that this cat was not here looking for trouble. besides, it was much more likely a lost house cat bumbled past their borders. a street-smart rogue alone wouldn't take the chance of traipsing so deep, it certainly wouldn't end well.

the calico followed along, not close enough to be biting at her mentors heels but she was never far behind. white paws were bore a slight tremble as she got closer and closer, nervous to who they would find. eveningpaw pauses on a branch just above the one her mentor rests on, peering down at the slate furred stranger with a strong gaze. orangeblossom takes care of the talking, twitchbolt and doompaw gathering as she does.

suddenly, an outburst. doompaw is yelling, and before she knew it he was down the tree and barreling towards the trespasser. "doompaw!" she calls out, but her efforts to nothing to stop his plight. pale eyes wide, they flicker from the deputy to the lead warrior for direction. ​

 

[SLATESNARL]

Slate had been out on a solo hunt nearby when a commotion broke out among the nearby patrol. "Doompaw!" A shout erupts from Morningpaw, prompting the lead warrior to prick a shredded ear. Slightly arching a brow, intrigued enough to take a break from his task, he shouldered through a bit of undergrowth before stumbling across the scene — Doompaw launching himself at what appeared to be a strange cat blatantly standing upon SkyClan territory. The green accessory around the tom's neck lends to the idea that he was a housecat. Another clueless kittypet who couldn't tell what a border was, eh?

"No, let him." Slate rumbles, stepping forth upon large paws and fixing a dulled amber stare onto whatever was unfolding before them. "There's been a lotta' trespassers lately. Can't let everyone think that we'll allow it." The Maine Coon figured. Besides, Doompaw was a newly-named apprentice; he wasn't going to do much damage to this adult male, except maybe give him a scare.​

 

[Tomb]

Tomb looked up and saw an orange cat standing in a tree. After taking a second to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, the black Tom got a little indignant that the bird-cats thought it was fine to order him around, especially when he hadn’t eaten yet. “What? No warm welcome?” he’d reply with undisguised sarcasm, returning the Molly’s unimpressed gaze with the irritated look of a bamboozled cheetah watching an impala that had just tricked him speed off. Noticing others begin to surround his location, he’d curse to himself and flick his gaze to everyone he could see and then back to the orange molly. “What is this, the goddamn breakfast club?” he’d say, immediately regretting it as mention of breakfast only worsened the feeling of hunger and his stomach released a growl equivalent to a small car engine in volume. After a second, a voice would yell out-

“I’m gonna flay ‘im, Watch me, Twitchbolt!”

That came from the bushes and shortly after a scrawny tortoiseshell came charging out as well, looking obviously intent on doing just what he had promised. Still, with how skinny the poor thing was, it was kind of hard to take the seemingly serious threat, well, seriously. He almost wanted to go back home, get a bowl of kibble, feed it to the tom charging at him and then redo the whole thing. Ah, he had made another mistake. Thinking about kibble was a big problem when he was hungry in the first place. Dodging the charging thing, he’d call out to the onlookers, staring piteously at what he took as their attempt at attacking him.

"Please, call off your rat suffering from malnutrition and just speak with me. I feel bad." ​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

He'd known upon appointment that his apprentice had... quite the inferno of personality, but he had not expected quite this level of reckless bravery. As Doompaw called out to him, voicing aloud his intent to flay Twitchbolt could feel his blood run completely cold. "Doompaw...!" he called, yelp petering into a squeak as he winced- he lunged forward ready to rescue his whirling apprentice from the vicious, suspicious stranger, but- to his relief (though it did not relax him very much), the trespasser took no revenge, simply dodging out of the way. Wide eyes fixed on his apprentice, frazzled but steely in intended warning.

The look in the black tom's eyes, a piteous look paired with a voice that spat an insult toward Doompaw, sent Twitchbolt's fur into a coat of bristles. His skin shuddered in annoyance at the tone of the tom's voice, the clear attitude of him, and the bicolour tom did very little to hide his thinning patience. "He has every right to attack you, and- and- and the rest of us'll join in too if you don't explain ww-w-why you're trespassing!" In his retorts he'd failed to answer the most important question- Orangeblossom's. What he was doing here- dancing through their land, too close to the sick and injured for comfort. Twitchbolt's wary comfort, at least.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[Orangestar]

— info

•  
• 
  orangeblossom. tags.
  — she/her, skyclan deputy.
  — mentor to eveningpaw.
  — attack in #e08550. uses trees as an integral part of her fighting style.
  — mean enough to note that her thoughts don't reflect my opinions as a writer.
  — penned by mercibun; @ me in any official tabbytales discord for plots. :]
  — fullbody by merc!<3

"What, you think you deserve one for trespassing?" Orangeblossom echoes in an equally sarcastic tone, her ears twitching backwards with distaste. She's about to say something else, scarred jaws parting, when a shrill voice interrupts her thoughts and the deputy immediately tenses. That's a voice she's been dealing with for four moons now, the tone often a precursor to kitten-fights; and, sure enough, Doompaw charges from the treeline with a battle cry ... and completely misses the trespasser.

This is a disaster. She flicks her eyes skyward, and then closes them briefly. Thank StarClan it's only his first moon of apprenticeship.

Eveningpaw calls out a warning, immediately countered by Slate's grunt of no, let him- and Orangeblossom drops down from her perch in a few long strides to face this stranger muzzle-to-muzzle. As she pads over she grits her teeth, not because of her annoyance but from the flare of pain from her right leg. She's about to apologise for her milk-kitten's actions, a rare show of diplomacy from the grouchy she-cat, but in a surprising turn of events Twitchbolt stands up for Doompaw. He's right. Doompaw is well within his rights to challenge a trespasser. Embarrassment shifts back to Orangeblossom's usual stubborn wall of a personality, and she regards this dark-furred stranger with none of the warmth he'd requested.

"Answer the question." She pads closer, drawing herself up to her full height, long fur puffed out. "Are. You. Lost?"

​