The First Encounter [C]

The bulky tom padded into the unfamiliar land, eyes landing upon one of the twolegs' large structures, though it seemed to be abandoned. As the wind shifted in direction he was hit with four strong, distinct scents, and his toxic gaze turned to the landscape sprawled before him. He had made it! A wide, chipped-tooth grin lit his features, and he plopped onto his furry butt, just admiring the view as his matted tail swished back and forth restlessly. He let out a relieved breath, his luck had held out once more. [color:e6f5=##72376a]"I made it, ol Dogbreath," he laughed, almost seeming not to belive it. It had taken nearly an entire season but he had followed the directions and used the sun as his guide. Sure he got turned around a few times, and had to ask the local loners for help, but he had done it.

A shiver ran through him, the fact that he may not be alone for much longer making him hope desperately that luck would come through for him once more. Before venturing further though, perhaps he could head to the wooden structure for shelter.

Drawing closer to the large nest he soon paused as he caught a scent, it seemed this land was claimed by... two cats? Well... he'd leave if he was told to, but it wouldn't hurt to ask if he could stay and rest for a bit right? He'd even hold off on hunting in their land if he was allowed. Leafbare was fast approaching, so he'd understand if that would be what they preferred.

The days had steadily grown chillier, and Brackenwing grumbled, shivering. The barn provided shelter from the wind and elements, but the cold still cut through to the bone, and the short-furred marbled tabby dearly wished for the return of greenleaf as a result. She sat in a patch of sunlight, though the chill in the air made trying to soak up what little warmth it provided futile.

The scent of a stranger heralded the approached of a cat - no clan cat, that much Brackenwing could tell. Outsider, then, and Brackenwing's head lifted, green eyes wary as a bulky black and white tom whose fur she could only describe as dingy came into view. The barn, it seemed, was becoming a popular destination for cats to pass by, a few often staying a night or two in their travels. Aloof and introverted as she was, Brackenwing wasn't sure how she felt about it other than tired. Sometimes the interaction with others could be nice, she would begrudgingly admit, and as long as nobody caused trouble...

"And who might you be?" Her tone wasn't hostile, though her words could have been mistaken for such. She had never had it in her for diplomacy.

Unlike the older feline, the tom seemed unbothered by the cold, though given his dense fur that could hardly be labelled as a surprise. Given her tone wasn't hostile he wasn't put off by the blunt words. "Name's Plaguerat, but you can call me Plague." He chuffed, tone gruff but warm, "I've travelled far from a distant twolegplace in search of this forest, hearin' about clans... ah, but that's a tale for another day. All I'm here specifically for is a place to rest up and gain my bearings. Can help with huntin' if ya need for as long as I need to stay." He purred, posture lax.

Given his words and personality, it seemed he was hardly there to cause harm. Honestly, he was just happy to have someone to talk to, even if it was just to request boarding. His paws kneaded at the ground slightly, jovial aura never faltering. Silently he wondered just how many stories the older cat could possibly have to share. It'd be nice to trade stories instead of being the only one telling them, he'd think.

The loner's name was Plague... rat? Brackenwing blinked, what a strange name, truly strange. "Brackenwing." She introduced herself, hoping that the offputting, odd nature of his name did not show. The tom was looking for the clans, apparently, a a soft snort escaped the former clan cat. "Well, I'm not a clan cat" anymore, she left out, "but their territories are there. From the moors, to the river, forest and marsh... Their borders are impossible to miss once you come across them." She added. Whatever the tom wanted with the clans wasn't for her to pry, she decided. Brackenwing had left that life behind her when she came to this barn with Whisperear, and she was content to leave it in the past.

The exchange of shelter for a bit of hunting seemed to be a more commonplace one than Brackenwing had thought it would be, and she lifted a shoulder in a shrug, "Don't start trouble, and that's all the repayment I need. Though hunting wouldn't go unappreciated." She mewed, her leg did seem to become more stiff as the cold weather settled in, and both she and Whisperear were long past their physical prime despite their relative youth.

He nodded at the name, wondering how she had earned it. At the description of where the clans were, he nodded absently, noting the information for later. Such starkly different territories. The tom wondered how different each clan was from each other then, which ones were more willing to bring in outsiders than others. It was all so new... and exciting too.
"Thanks for the info!" He grinned, looking back.

At the next words he blinked, "Well your hospitality is appreciated then. I'll still help out with hunting where I can, gotta get used to doing it in such an open place as opposed to the stone mazes I"m used to." He chuckled lightly, before pausing, "I smelt another cat on the wind though, do you have a companion, will they be fine with it too?" The bulky tom asked considerately. Maybe he had been mistaken about another cat but it didn't hurt to ask, right?

"Stone mazes?" Brackenwing asked, curious. She had heard tales of twolegplace, with strange stone pathways and monsters and dogs, perhaps that was what he meant. "Hunting on the moors wasn't terrible... You do have to be fast, though. Can't exactly hide behind foliage. On the other paw, I don't know how the cats in the forest do it, it must be terrible claustrophobic. I can't imagine all that underbrush makes hunting easier." She had never been the fastest cat in Windclan, but it had been enough to get by. She did miss hunting rabbits and hares, though the stiffness in her leg and the balance issues it could cause meant the mice in the relatively confined space of the barn were a safer bet.

The question of another cat was one Brackenwing half-expected, and she nodded, a soft smile making it's way onto her face unbidden. "That would be Whisperear, my partner." She mewed, "They shouldn't mind, I don't think. They're a good cat." And stars help whoever did start trouble with the other ex-Windclanner who she shared the barn with.