Chasing Tail [closed]

OOC: TAKE TWO. ACTION.

IC: He spent more time here than most of his clanmates, and not to sun. There wasn't any use for that on freezing days like this. Sleetfang shivered as he made his way up the tumble of rocks, careful not to slip on the wet stone. Rain had turned the light snow and hail from the night before into a dirty slush. "Come here..." he breathed under his breath, eyes locked on the bushy red tail just a few fox-lengths ahead of him. His mouth watered at the thought of a squirrel. He hadn't eaten since the night before, and his hunger sharpened at the first scent.

He crept over the rocks as the squirrel bounced from stone to stone, up and up, closer and closer to the ThunderClan border. You won't get away that easy...

Sleetfang crossed over the top of the rocks, one paw on the brittle frozen grass. ThunderClan markings were strong here, but it was so close... He wouldn't let it slip out of his clutches just like that. He bunched up his muscles, ready to pounce.

OOC2: OKAY MAYBE NOT.

I'LL JUST KEEP THIS TOPIC ON HOLD IF EMBER/BLIZZARD ARE GONNA SHARE THAT FIRST THREAD.

I'M KIND OF AN IDIOT.

ooc;; this'll be the second time they meet, then ;P

A russet form, stunningly bright, screaming color against the white snow, appeared in a heartbeat. The squirrel was beneath a paw, her claws sheathed. It was writhing, its eyes wider, wider. Then, in an instant, her claws were unsheathed and the squirrel's throat was ripped, torn out. It flailed one last time, gurgling, then went limp.

"You're a rather bad hunter," Emberheart began, licking the sour tang of blood off her paws, the mangled animal lying in a horrifying position beneath her. "So close to Thunderclan territory, too."

She left the fresh-kill on the rocks, circling around the tom. "Stupidfluff, right? I'm Emberheart, if you didn't remember."

Interest piqued at her, but fiery amusement flared in her eyes. Whenever she was around him, she forgot about what she was feeling for Pinewhisker.

A flash of russet fur, and it was gone, writhing underneath another cat's paws. Sleetfang skid to a halt, locked, rooted, frozen in place by the ginger pelt. When recognition flared up in his eyes, he let something like a purr rumble in his throat. "Emberheart," he repeated, turning the name over in his mouth. His tail lashed from side to side. "You don't have to spell it out again. Always happy to see me, aren't you?" Yeah. It was him. Stupidfluff in the flesh. Ta-da. He'd been called worse, but something about the moniker made his head spin with puzzlement. Everything about this she-cat made his head spin. Some days since they'd first met at the border, he swore he could hear that biting snark of hers in the back of his head whenever he missed a catch or wandered too close to Sunningrocks.

Sleetfang eyed what remained of the squirrel, wondering if that was supposed to be some kind of sign. "I had it before you came blustering in." No scent or sight of Blizzardshine. He could drop the polite act, but he kept his voice light and teasing. "I'd say that makes us quite a team."

The russet warrior's head tilted as Sleetfang spoke, stifling a purr.

She let out her first, real grin towards the tom, familiar streaks of yellow and amber shimmering in her eyes as they always did when she became excited. She'd grown a lot; her pelt was now bright and beautiful, her eyes stunning. Yet inside, she hadn't changed much from when she was a kit—her fiery temper was still sharp-tongued and ready, and her stubbornness had not faded the slightest bit.

"Team?" the she repeated, stepping around lightly to face him. Her eyes glinted with mischief. "You'd have gotten stuck in the brambles over there." she flicked her tail towards the patch a few tail-lengths away, but didn't remove her gaze. "You're lucky I got it—maybe now you can be of some use to your clan." Emberheart nudged the torn-up prey towards him, it's dead open eyes staring at nothing. You…can have it." 


"I don't want it," she muttered but could barely even hear herself.




ooc;; eeeeee late reply I'm sorry

The shift almost caught him off guard, but he didn't let his composure crack. Sleetfang purred, eager to press on this momentary softness in her prickly demeanor. "You're hunting for me now?" he mewed, pawing at the scrap of fresh-kill. "Is this pity or are you just warming up to me already?" he teased. He nudged it back. "A team," he repeated. "I won't take it from you, but I will share."