enraged escape ❖ closed

Sometimes, hunting alone was the greatest antidote for boredom. It wasn't like Duckpuddle was going out of camp to do anything stupid. She was helping herself by giving herself something to do, and she was helping the Clan by catching fish for them to eat. It was a win-win, right? As the brown warrior swiftly made her way through the familiar territory that was owned by RiverClan, her mind began to wander back to the tom that she had met during her first swimming session. What were the odds that she'd end up running into him again? Shaking her head, slowly, Duckpuddle tried to push that to the back of the mind. The sooner she caught some fish, the sooner she could return home, and her unfortunate thoughts of running into the ThunderClan tom would be gleefully extinguished. The she-cat put on a calm, small smile as the familiar river came into view, and once she reached it, she crouched down beside it. Fish swam through its watery depths, unaware of the brown paw that was about to swoop down and disturb the beloved peace.

"Enjoy your peace while it lasts," Duckpuddle whispered, half to herself and half to the fish, "It seems like serenity is something that every cat in the forest strives to destroy."
Afterward, the warrior let her paw dart into the cold water. As if it was a flash of lightning, the paw was in and out quicker than Duckpuddle could process. The fish at her paws was flopping around aimlessly, desperately wanting to get back into the water and rejoin its family and friends in their aquatic journey. Upon thinking about this, a small pang of sadness struck the RiverClanner. She wanted to kill it. If she didn't, then valuable prey would've been wasted. However, her thoughts had suddenly turned soft. Duckpuddle let out a soft, exasperated sigh as she continued to stare at the confused, flopping fish.
"I'm sure someone in that river would miss you." She muttered, before using her paw to gingerly flip the minnow back into the rushing water.

With Rainkit getting bigger, he was harder to impress, Luckily, the clan was getting the rare pheasant around, he'd found some feathers. Now, he was tracking down the bright bird. Creeping closer, he sprung and tried to grab it. The bird was fast. He chased it closer to Sunningrocks and knew he wouldn't let RiverClan have it. He ran faster, lurching forward and clamped his jaws around one of its legs. It kept going and the momentum of the whole thing ended with the two skidding in the snow as they landed on the rocks. The tom's eyes widened as they slid, dropping off the rocks right into the river with a loud noise of splashes and flapping wings. The tom struggled with the bird stubbornly in his jaws. It kept shoving him under and trying to push off from his head. He wasn't going to die being drowned by a bird, was he?

What in the name of StarClan?

Duckpuddle stared ahead at Newttounge with shock in her sharp green eyes. At first, she had no idea how to react or what to say. She simply watched the debacle with an air of confusion. She was certainly going to remember this for the rest of her life, especially considering that it was the tom that she had met during her first swimming session. A forced, rough sigh escaped the she-cat's maw as she rolled her eyes. Of course, luck and odds were out to attack her. It would be wrong to just leave Newttounge there struggling, even if she wanted to just walk away and leave him there, so Duckpuddle calmly waded into the river and noticed that the bird was in the ThunderClanner's jaws.

"You're having quite the play-fight, aren't you?" The brown warrior asked as she yanked the bird out of Newttounge's mouth with one of her claws, "It's a shame that you scared all of the fish away."
Duckpuddle held the winged creature under the rushing water for a couple of heartbeats until she couldn't feel the slight thumping of its heartbeat, and its entire body went still.
"Technically, since I killed it, I should take this prey back to the Clan. However, I pity you now that I've seen the struggle that you've had with a mere bird. You can take it."

Unfortunately for the two of them, the wandering twoleg that had made its way onto the Clans' territory had been alerted by the sound of Newttounge falling into the river, and it began to slowly make its way through the foliage and towards the two unsuspecting Clan cats.

Newttongue coughed and smirked at her, his pelt was far too heavy, it was unbearable to say the least. Shaking his head vigorously, he got some of the water out of his ears. "You're getting better with your words, that was nearly enough for me to twitch my whiskers at. Are you blind? A pheasant is not just a mere bird. Look at the size of it alone!" Frowning, he looked down at the now waterlogged bird. He was hoping to take it home warm, oh well. Food was food. He tried to shake his pelt out, most likely spraying Duckpuddle with river water. He appreciated the fact his pelt kept him warm but, it was like dry moss and took up everything around it.

It wasn't his most graceful moment but, it'd make a fun story to tell later. He'd already nearly been carried away by an eagle, now he'd nearly drowned thanks to the pheasant. Newttongue chuckled to himself and shut his eyes. Would something go wrong everytime they met? "I'm glad we've never met at a gathering. It'd probably get burned down."

"No, I have enough of an eyesight to witness your struggle. I think I'm perfectly capable of seeing, thank you very much."
Duckpuddle lazily flicked her tail as she rolled her sharp green eyes.
"You're quite right about how big that thing is. Pheasants are just as big as your ego, so I think it's easy to judge its size."
As Newttounge proceeded to spray her with water, the brown warrior didn't flinch or back away. It wasn't like water was her weakness, or anything. He did have a point. The Gathering would probably end in a heartbeat if the two of them ran into each other there. Duckpuddle had seen him at the last Gathering, and she had even considering going up to him, but she had thought against it for that very reason. Instead, she had decided to embarrass herself in front of Stormcloud by attempting to say something to him immediately after fighting his Clan in a battle. Perhaps approaching Newttounge at the Gathering would've been better than that.

"True. Luckily, we can control whether or not we speak to each other at a Gathering. I have seen you at Fourtrees in the past, but I've made the decision to stay away because I value the peace that the Gathering brings."
Duckpuddle turned around and waded back towards the edge of the river before shaking out her own fur, not caring if the water from her pelt sprayed onto the ThunderClan tom in front of her.

The alerted twoleg, close enough to hear the sound of meows, steadily approached the two felines. It peered at Duckpuddle and Newttounge from behind Duckpuddle, so of course, she wasn't able to see it. As if it was magic, the tall, lumbering twoleg was able to stay silent and creep towards them, plans racing through his mind. Considering that he had two twoleg kits at home, they'd enjoy it if he brought two cats home for them. Sure, they were wild cats, but a quick trip to the cutter would clear any diseases or dangers that they carried.

The tom grunted and gathered the bird in his jaws, dragging it to the shore as well. He dropped it for a moment, pressing on it with his paws in an attempt to lessen the weight of the water stuck in the bird. His paws were sodden as it was. "Let's hope the peace stays kept forever. If I don't have to hear the leaders argue on the cursed rock for the rest of my life, I'd be perfectly happy." He muttered to keep noise in the air. An odd scent hit his nose but he didn't say anything yet. He was covered in odd scents now. River scum clumped his fur in some spots and no matter how much he adored the river, it smelled far from glorious. With a heavy sigh, he glanced at Duckpuddle. "I suppose I should go before this bird causes any more trouble. Thanks for saving me. Hopefully, our leaders can stop butting heads and our clans can be somewhat relaxed for once. Maybe then, we can talk at a gathering and not burn down Fourtrees, yeah?" The irritation in his voice was lightening up now. The humor of the situation took the place of any anger he could have. He was almost drowned by a scared bird in shallow water. Picking the bird up again, that scent hit him again.... it was muddled by the various scents of the river but he didn't feel right about it. It made his fur prickle.

Duckpuddle's whiskers twitched with slight amusement after Newtface's comments, but she still felt a bit on edge. Something felt wrong, plus she and the ThunderClan tom weren't exactly the greatest of friends, and they were from two Clans that hated each other. Perhaps that was the only reason why she felt so tense.
"Yes, hopefully. Peace is something that all of the Clans need, now. I should be heading off, too."
Flicking her tail in farewell, the brown she-cat turned around to head back towards camp, but she realized that she had an obstacle once two, long, pale legs were seen in front of her. She narrowed her eyes in confusion, but let out a high-pitched yelp once she realized what it was.

A twoleg.

Before she could turn around and leap across the river to ThunderClan's side in order to save herself, she was snatched up by the odd, horrifying creature. There was no way that she'd be able to escape. She frantically tried to claw at the twoleg, but it didn't flinch. It was heading straight towards Newttounge, and it seemed like it wanted to snatch the ThunderClan warrior up, too.

Holy HECK I never saw this! Sorry for the wait!]

The tom heard her yelp, ears flattening as he saw the twoleg. He'd never seen one up close. Now wasn't the time to be curious... Newttongue ran forward with a yowl, jumping straight at the twoleg with his claws out, clawing at its strange foreleg. He tried biting it as well, never struggling so much to fight something.

Duckpuddle had stopped struggling against the twoleg by the time Newttounge attempted to attack it. There was barely any point. The tall, lumbering creature did flinch a tiny bit at the ThunderClan tom's attack, but it quickly snatched Newttounge up, too. It bothered the she-cat that she couldn't understand anything that the odd thing said, but she felt panic begin to rise in her chest and build up in her throat once the twoleg turned around and began to take slow steps forward. They were heading away from everything that she knew, and she didn't like it. The brown warrior shot Newttounge a quick glance as she once again tried to squirm out of the twoleg's grasp, but the thing was determined to keep its hold. What was wrong with this thing? What was the purpose in taking a cat?
Did I do something wrong? Duckpuddle thought, frowning.

It seemed as if moons and moons had passed before the twoleg stopped and turned towards a tall, square, red figure (a brick house because harlem can't describe anything). Both Duckpuddle and Newttounge were dropped into the grass that was in front of the red figure, before the twoleg closed made its way inside. It was almost like magic. Duckpuddle had never seen anything like that before. This could quite possibly be their time to escape. Turning around, the brown she-cat came face to face with a tall, white barrier that stopped her from going anywhere. It wasn't just in front of her, but it was all around the red figure that the twoleg had gone into. Fear filled the warrior from head to toe, and she glanced back at Newttounge.

"What are we supposed to do, now? The twoleg might come back and take us to... the cutter. I've heard about that thing, but I have no idea if it's true. What if the twoleg starves us? What if it hurts us? Maims us? Kills us? Oh, StarClan, please... I had no idea I was going to die today."
She was having trouble controlling her breathing as it was now coming out in short, rough exhales and weak, shallow inhales. She had felt terribly anxious plenty of times before, but never this badly.

Newtongue spat furiously as he was taken away from everything he had ever known.His struggles eventually tired him out and he hung limply in the twoleg's grasp. How could this be happening? He was just trying to hunt for his clan and now he'd never seen them again! His father would be crushed by it. He was already losing everyone else... Being dropped in the strange twoleg grass, he tried to find a way out himself before turning to listen to Duckpuddle. Cringing, he leaned away from her. "Let's... not talk about that? Why do twolegs take cats?" He paced around and looked at her with dread. "We're becoming kittypets. If we were being hunted, we'd be dead right now. We're going to be stuck as kittypets! We need to find a way out of here and fast. Ugh.. I wouldn't even know where to go from here, everything smells like monsters and twolegs. The scents are so overwhelming..." He shuddered at the idea and looked at the red twoleg den. It looked like the dark clay he sometimes saw in the territory.. That was not what he should be focused on right now.

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