and the view (o)utside is sterile.

[Woollyheart]

give me time and give me space

Woollypaw purred as he stalked around the farm, trying to hunt some mice for his clanmates. He was bored and wanted to be helpful so what else could he do. As he crouched, the young tom began to walk forwards very slowly- he had spotted the previously mentioned rodent and decided he was going to try catch it.

As he approached the small creature, the curly-haired tom leapt, landing near the mouse but scaring it off. He watched with disappointment as it ran away and hid in a hole.

"Shoot."

aeron at thq

[Darya]

(Mind if Darya joins?)

Hunting was a tedious task for one so small and meek. Yet hunger drove me well. Since my run in with Ivykit, I had made sure to avoid the barn with a lot more stealth. Keeping to long patches of grass when I strayed to close, and avoiding the scent line and sight range of the watch. They reminded me of the watch that was always stationed at my old home, and I hated being reminded of anything to do with my home. Most memories bought fear, and a throbbing to my scarred shoulder and torn ear. Some memories of my mother and sister just bought sadness. I'm not really sure which memory course makes me look weaker. I don't plan to find out.

The complaint of my belly reminds me of the task at hand, and drags my attention to the scent of mouse. My ears twitch and I peer around to spot a mouse close enough to taste, dashing toward its hole. With a sudden burst of speed, I make chase and watch as its long tail snakes into the hole behind it. Not allowing myself any lapse in attention, I unsheath my claws and dart my tiny paw into the hole, glad being a kitten makes that particular task easy. Just like the nicest of my brothers taught me, I snag the vermin with my claws and drag it out, biting it's neck before it can even understand what's going on. It falls limp at my paws and I sheath my claws and sniff around hopefully. The other mice have disappeared of course, just as I suspected. Oh well, better than nothing.

I'd just picked the creature up to find somewhere sheltered from eyesight to eat it, when I realise it's too late for that. My eyes stray across a furry white cat who I now realise by his disappointed expression had been hunting this particular mouse. Instinct hits like a hammer to my head, and I cower back in fright, eyes wide as I peer up at the older feline. His curly white fur reminds my of the sheep dotting one of the fields nearby. "I-I'm s-s-sorry. I didn't know. H-here, take it." With tentative paws, I crawl forward, belly scraping along the ground. It growls at me in protest as I place the mouse near the older cat, before I scramble back and cower near the hole, not sure what else to do. My tiny form is trembling in fear of being punished for stealing his prey. At my old home, if an outsider stole prey from the gang, it was punishable by death. And if you interrupted a gang-mates hunting, or went after their failed catch, you'd get a beating. Or at least, I did. I shudder at the thought and my silvery eyes widen in terror for what may or may not come. My torn ear mirrors the other one as they flit back to meld into the fur upon my skull.

[Woollyheart]

give me time and give me space

-I'm sorry that this is really short in comparison to yours-

Woollypaw had begun to walk around when he heard a sound. It was definitely a cat, although he could tell that they weren't from Iceclan as he didn't recognise it... And despite not knowing many of his clanmates as most were busy on patrol, he still knew what their voices sound like. He guessed that they were a very young cat as it was a kind of squeaky noise. When he looked down, his ocean blue eyes focused on a young loner kit, and despite being a lot younger than him, she already had more scars. He couldn't help but frown at that... Poor kid.

"Hey, hey," He said, quiet and soft, "It'll be okay. You can take it," He purred, gently using his pink nose to push the mouse towards the kit. He knew that he shouldn't give prey to loners as their clan wasn't the wealthiest right now, but the warrior code said that he must help a kit no matter what. The curly-haired cat lowered himself to the ground so that his size didn't intimidate the tiny she-cat in anyway. He smiled as he looked at her and began to introduce himself, "I'm Woollypaw," He said, keeping his gentle tone.

aeron at thq

[Darya]

(Aww, that's so cute <3)

No! That isn't right. He's supposed to take it, not give it back. He was supposed to take it, and go back to wherever he is from and pretend he never saw me. He's not supposed to talk to me. It isn't right. Is it? My eyes are wide and I try to still my shuddering because it really makes it hard to think. To process what exactly is happening, and why on earth this mouse I offered him is back at my paws. My belly growls in protest when I still don't eat it. I'm not the best at hunting, because everything is too big for me, and I'm always running scared from the slightest glimpse of another cat. Yet I've grown a little weaker from my lack of food, and I know I should eat this mouse. Yet I can't. I cower back in stead, not trusting myself to move or speak or anything, even as the cat speaks in that sweat friendly tone my mama used to use, and lowers himself to the ground in an attempt at not being intimidating.

It doesn't work. It never works. It's fixed in my mind now. Fight or flight, never ever do you stay and chat. Cats are bad and dangerous, especially older ones. The longest conversation I've ever held was with Ivy, and she was but a moon older than I. I peer up wide eyed at the Tom, my nose right by the mouse now, and the scent teasing me. My belly growls again, more audible than before, and I squirm slightly in discomfort. Yet still I do not eat. As he introduces himself, I swear I see him glaring at me expectantly. Yet in a blink of my eyes, those orbs of his are warm and friendly. An almost violent fearful shudder passes through my body, and all I manage to utter is my name. "I-I'm Darya..."

(Sorry for dying, hehe)

[Woollyheart]

give me time and give me space

Woollypaw purred quietly as he backed away from the kit a little further, trying not to seem intimidating although that was probably pretty easy for him considering it would probably be a little difficult being taken seriously when you look like the offspring of a sheep and cat. He blinked his warm blue eyes as he twitched his pink nose lightly. The apprentice couldn't help but feel bad when he heard the pale cat's stomach grumble loudly. He found it pretty sickening that a cat so young was seemingly left alone with nobody to loom after them- it made him feel lucky to have a loving mother and siblings.

He offered a small smile as he curled himself up to look slightly smaller than he actually was, probably making him look like a marshmallow, staying quiet like the other cat was doing as he waited for the shy feline to introduce themselves. Woollypaw smiled wider when they spoke, replying in a whisper-like tone, "Nice to meet you, Darya."

aeron at thq

[Darya]

Darya's eyes widened a hint when the cat purrs and backs away. Like he's nervous or something, yet the rumbling sound belies that. Well, it should. To her, she's never experienced anpurr before, or smiles or happy expressions. And so the cat doing all those things at once was both unsettling and intruiging. Or at least, she thinks he's a cat. As the curls down slightly onto the ground with a pitying expression, she can't help but connect him more so to the fluffy sheep she often passed. Except he smelt like cat. Through her fear, her expression is somewhat perplexed. Yet she does not utter a whisper, let along a question. Instead hunkering down in the grass and dragging the discarded mouse before her. She takes one last questioning look, ensuring the tom does not want the prey, before digging into her meal for the first time in ages.

The prey was succulent, and she ate it quickly, like it'd come back to life and run away. She even kept her claws latched onto its tail in anticipation for thievery from basically anyone. It wouldn't be a first. Throughout her upbringing, the child always had her food stolen, whenever there was any for her. Her wide eyes never stray from Wollypaw, and she eats the mouse so fast it almost hurts her tummy. It's not enough, considering how little she's eaten lately, yet it sates her for now. She swipes her tongue ofpver her jaws and peers up at the cat, ready to spring away any second despite the cpfact the feline seems relaxed and friendly. She was not one to be so easily convinced. "Do you know Ivy? She a little older 'an me, but she was a kitten when we met...she from icesomething, over there." She qesturesnwith her head toward the barn, keeping small and submissive, her muscles taught. She wasn't sure why she asked, yet she sort of missed Ivy. She had invited her to her home beforehand, after all.

[Woollyheart]

give me time and give me space

-I have zero muse, sorry-

Woollypaw began to groom his white paw as he watched Darya take the prey and eat it. He kept the soft smile on his face, twitching his tail tip as the purr continued to rumble in his throat. He had actually began to lose focus as he groomed his curly pelt but snapped out of his daze when Darya began to speak to him again, asking if he knew another Iceclan cat named Ivykit. He spoke softly in response, "I don't think so, sorry," He frowned slightly, "But I might run into her someday, I'm from Iceclan too," He replied.

aeron at thq

[Darya]

Darya still couldn't help but be weary, and certainly very fearful. Yet she had stopped quivering, and was less frightened than usual thanks to the fact this cat was friendly and not too old. In fact, he seemed easily distracted, too, she noted as he began to lick his paw. In fact, he got so caught up in his grooming himself that he seemingly forgot his presence. He even startled when she spoke, which caused her to jump as well, eyes widening in flaring panic before she realised he'd spooked at her, and only in shock for the broken silence. She swallows down a lump in her throats, tries to stay her quivering, and listens to his response.

She couldn't help the slight disappointment at his lack of knowledge about her Iceclan friend, but she was glad to know he was in Iceclan too. Ears twitching slightly, she gathers her frail nerve before peering up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. "C-could ya l-l-look out for her, f-for me?" She asked, hoping he'd be able to talk to her and get back to Darya. Though she may or may not be long gone by then. Yet, as it was, she had nowhere else to go, so perhaps she might just stay here for ages, until she gained the courage to go home and face her father. Her marred shoulder twitches at the mere thought, and she decides perhaps that would be best delayed. "I-I should probably -g-go now..." She murmurs softly, eyes trained upon the ground. Yet she makes no move to get up lest he attack the second she turn her tail. She knew much about false senses of security.

(So sorry for delay! I thought I'd posted!)