The Edge of the Territory

A gray spotted rogue pounced on the rabbit, snapping it's neck with deadly precision. He inspected his kill. It had scars. The rogue shrugged. "Better than carrion." He dug his teeth into the rabbit, and tore a few bits of flesh off. He chewed the tough meat and spat out a sliver of heather. He had lived alone most of his life, on the moorland, dodging dogs and these strange cats.

Featherfall stalked her prey. Not the rabbit, as if you would think. No, the gray tom, eating her Clan's prey was the prey at the moment. Unaware of her, she jumped on him, knocking him over and aware from the half eaten rabbit. "What do you think your doing rouge?!" She spat in anger, blue eyes blazing an invisible fire, and small paws on the throat of her enemy.

Falcon, only seeing a blur and getting knocked over, thrusted her off with powerful hind legs, and leaped to his paws. "Trying not to starve!" he spat.

OOC: Lalw, a bad start thar xD

Featherfall looked at the tom, sizing him up. Even thought the she-cat was smaller than most, she was fiesty and energetic and could have put up a fight with Bramblestar. "This is not your territory to steal from, loner." She sneered, putting yet another label on him.

Falcon snorted. "I thought I was rogue," he growled, and lashed his tail. Something inside him stirred, other than his anger. He pushed it away, unsure.

"There the same thing. And their both not welcome here." Featherfall said her voice strong and powerful and dangerously sharp. "I'd watch yourself around the soon-to-be leader of WindClan, mutt." Labels were flying everywhere.

Falcon hissed, and circled her, powerful lean muscles flexing. He stopped as she mentioned WindClan. "WindClan? What in the world is that?"

"It's one of the five Clans that share this forest. It's basically a big family." She explained.

Falcon's ears twitched. "Oh really? Because I've seen other cats in big groups around Druid's Hollow."

IC: He was a kittypet, his twolegs talked about it a lot.

Featherfall scoffed the moorland grass. "Did you come from kittypets or something? Because your using different terms." She scouted, her blazing eyes never giving anything away.

Falcon swept a heather stalk with his tail. "Yes...I was a kittypet. But my twolegs left one day and never came back and I..." He trailed off, a sad look in his eyes. "...I never saw those dirt-bags again!" His anger was overlaid by throbbing fury.

"Then you out to use Clan words. What's Druid's Hollow?" She asked, picturing the gorge, although she had no clue what it was.

Falcon tilted his head, one ragged ear flopping down. "You don't know? That grouping of four trees in the center of this territory," he explained, whiskers twitching amusingly.

"Fourtrees?" She said, not giving away her interest in this rouge.

The rogue shrugged, less tense. "I guess so, whatever you'd like to call it. I met a kittypet who called it Wild Cat Hollow." He chuckled, remembering the fat, gullible cat.