Desolated Tracks

[Feathercreek]

Originally Posted by Moonpatch

Fox sighed I killed my father because he killed my siblings because he didn’t think they where strong enough, he even came after my mother foxs eyes clouded with grief just for a second. well I guess I found a worthy opponent for now, but I’m getting kinda bored here(he’s going to run into a assain out in the woods when he leaves ) fox turned and padded away.

Thief wanted to say sorry for saying all of the bad things about Fox, but he had already left. She understood what it felt like. Saddened and guilty, she padded back to her nest.

[windtail]

from a distance a cat was lisening to them horiffied.

[gs29513]

Hazel was cold. With her thin fur soaked and a breeze cutting across her body, it was no wonder. Shivering violently, the queen staggered into the perceived safety of the tunnel. As soon as she had reached a corner she collapsed, limbs splayed and head drooping as she tumbled into sleep. But her slumber was soon interrupted, a pain shooting through her abdomen and waking her. Gasping a breath of air, the molly yowled as the contractions took hold.

The sound bounced about the cavern, echoing eerily until it faded, only to be replaced by another, and another, and another cry of agony. The queen's body contorted, contractions rippling through her and forcing out the kittens. Gasping as she struggled to keep air in her lungs, Hazel closed her eyes. She just wanted it to be OVER! Kits were not worth it, she had known that for a long time. But this HURT! OH!

With a final, laboring breath and gasp, Hazel felt the contractions stop, laying motionless for a few seconds before reaching for the kits in order to clean them off. This was when things began to go poorly, for after cleaning two kits, Hazel discovered that the third was unmoving. After a few attempts to rouse it she gave up, and focused her attention on the remaining scrap of fur. This one too was unmoving at first, but began to respond after a few, rough laps of the tongue.

Nudging the three living kits to her belly, Hazel lay back against the rock with a gasping sigh, looking down on the kits with some degree of fondness. She hadn't wanted them, but now that they were here it was hard to not feel protective of them. As they began to shiver, she realized that they were laying on a cold rock. As was she, but she at least had some ability to keep herself warm. Pulling them closer, she tried to will warmth into their little bodies as they suckled. She could get moss tomorrow, but she was exhausted.

The next day came with the three kits still living beside her, to her relief. Moving them onto the now warm rock she vacated, Hazel picked up their sibling before exiting the place she had found shelter. After burying the small body, she collected moss, several pieces being brought to the place she had taken refuge. Making a small nest took little time, and she placed all of the kits in it before going to hunt.

As she continued a bit farther away from the corner she had found sanctuary in, the smell of rodents increased greatly. After a quick bout of stalking she captured one, killing it and tearing into it's flesh in famished mouthfuls before returning to the kittens, who by now were wailing with hunger. As she settled down beside them, tail forming a wall to keep them close to her belly, Hazel murmured their names.

The small black she-cat was the first to receive a name, a small murmur of Night. the only indication a decision had been reached. Her brother, white and dotted with brown spots was dubbed Flea, and the smallest and weakest of the trio was given the name Toad. Relaxing against the rock behind her, Hazel fell asleep quickly.

[gs29513]

It only took a few days. Toad died just three days after his birth, as he was taking his first few steps. Stumbling over the edge of the train platform on wobbly legs, he smashed his head against a metal rail and lay still and unmoving. Night and Flea peered down from the platform, and when Hazel returned it was to the two remaining kits stock still there. Surmising what had happened, she took Toad outside to bury, grieving privately before forbidding her remaining kits from going near the edge of the platform. Ever.

Things did not get better for the family of three. While they had a few weeks of relative peace and safety, all this was soon shattered. The kits were almost at the age to be weaned, and Hazel had gone hunting outside for a tender piece of prey to start them on when disaster struck. A young fisher cat, all teeth and claws, slunk into the twoleg den. After a few moments of observing the two kits it lunged, hoping to fasten its teeth into Night's neck. It missed but not by much, biting into her ear and clinging their as she cried out in pain.

Swinging her claws wildly, she managed to detach it from her flesh, although it came away with a good chunk of fur and flesh in its maw. The young molly didn't know what to do besides cry for help, and in her distraction it leapt again, bowling her over the edge of the same platform that had killed toad. While her head was unharmed, a rock dislodged from where it had leaned upwards and rolled, uncaring of who was in it's way, towards the fighting ball.

Night was to absorbed in the pain of her ear and chest, where the Fisher was currently focusing its efforts, to hear the chunk coming, and as she swung a front paw forward it came through. With a sickening crunch it rolled over the middle of the foreleg. Yowling as even more pain rocked her system, Night collapsed under the Fisher, no longer able to beat back it's savage attacks.

As it's teeth sought her throat she kicked out with her hind legs, the will to live filling her with adrenaline that momentarily numbed the pain and creep of fuzzy vision the loss of blood had induced. It instead bit the side of her jaw, another chunk of bloody flesh removed as the flow of blood slowed in one wound only to increase in another. And then, suddenly, the weight was gone. Her mother stood over her, the young fisher dead in her mouth.

But Night felt no sense of relief, all she could feel was pain. Pain from her broken foreleg, pain from her ear and chest, pain from her jaw sliced at the lip to reveal her bloody teeth. Whimpering, crying out for help, Night lay on the platform as Hazel bustled about her, wrapping the various injuries in cobwebs. How successful her attempts at healing would be would only be shown by time, but it was all she knew how to do, that and try to comfort the small she-cat as she cried out in pain at all hours.

After a week, it had become clear that things were not going as they should. The wounded leg began to smell sour, and even the slightest touch now sent Night into tears. Eventually, Hazel decided it was infected beyond reasonable repair. After ordering her kit to hold a stick firmly in her maw she removed it, slicing through flesh in a quick motion that ended with a strangled wail and hasty reassurances as cobwebs were wrapped around the stump in practiced motions. While the she-kit had lost half her leg, she did manage to heal.

[poppy]

Brackenfire padded around, teeth gritted as she still had no sight of Bounceberry.

[beau]

It was a dreary day. Perhaps it was not what most cats considered gloomy, but it was gloomy to Lucille. The sun was bright - sharply flashing in her stormy eyes; the air was warm - she felt like she was breathing water with the humidity; and the ground was dry - her paws ached terrible from the soil's refusal to give from under them. Those approaching from her right would see her as a shadow, her silhouette backlit by the setting sun. Perhaps she would appear as a shadow from other angles. She wouldn't be surprised considering her sable-black fur.

Yes, that cursed fur which seemed to absorb all of the heat from the sun. She would not be surprised to find that the rest of the world was frigid as a result of the her pelt absorbing all of the sunlight. It was a ragged thing, her fur: wild and ungroomed, hanging loosely from her gaunt frame. Not exactly attractive. Of course, Lucille wasn't very concerned with her appearance - she had been on the move for a couple of days, and would take the time to groom herself once she seemed it fit to return back to her uprights' home. For now, her top priority was finding a meal.

She had considered going to the Reaching Stones. The uprights there seemed far kinder than hers, and it was always cool and shady there. Unfortunately, the rodent population was picked over at the moment. Her next pick was easy; the tracks were always fairly empty, and the rodents were plump and stupid. In winter the tracks seemed to be completely devoid of life, but she had given the area ample time to awaken.

It seemed she was right. The soft skittering of paws revealed a young dormouse, nervously pacing back and forth. Quietly, she slunk behind an old pile of upright junk - nasty metal things with a horribly unnatural smell. Dull sapphire eyes peered around the pile at her target. Slowly, the feline sank into a comfortable crouch, her bobbed tail twitching with anticipation. The rodent seemed to be taunting her: wandering towards her hiding spot, before slowly looping away. But she could be patient. With every pace the mouse grew closer, and soon enough she would be able to simply snag it with a quick flash of her paw. If nobody interrupted her, that is.

[open! trying out a new charrie ]

[SpiritWolf_yt]

it was dreary day for archscar for he wasn't all happy he wished he had a mate but he didn't think of it useful purpose, he looked at the ground seeing other cat tracks he followed it until he gave up,

he didn't relize a cat was nearby so he kept going the tom cat didn't care much for food or something he just wanted to find a cat he continues following track but doesn't know where he is going,

he comes to and end seeing another cat he approached caustiously so that he doesn't scare off the cat
@Naiad

[coalfur]

A calico cat strutted down the tracks, confident in their movements. The she-cat, who calls herself cali, seems to be on the older side, and has lived near the tracks for many moons.

open for interaction!

[Levi]

Originally Posted by coalfur

A calico cat strutted down the tracks, confident in their movements. The she-cat, who calls herself cali, seems to be on the older side, and has lived near the tracks for many moons.

open for interaction!

Rain

He looked left, then right, a cool breeze ruffling his fur as he stared at the tracks beside him. He scented an unfamiliar smell, a cat, it seemed. He stayed still in his place, ears perked and attentive to his surroundings. He strayed a step further, parting his maw to taste the air. Sitting down, he licked his paw and drew it over his face. "Why hello there," he meowed, wondering where this new cat was. He couldn't see them, but he had hoped that they could hear him, for he spoke rather loudly for this particular interaction.

[Wintersun]

Originally Posted by Naiad

It was a dreary day. Perhaps it was not what most cats considered gloomy, but it was gloomy to Lucille. The sun was bright - sharply flashing in her stormy eyes; the air was warm - she felt like she was breathing water with the humidity; and the ground was dry - her paws ached terrible from the soil's refusal to give from under them. Those approaching from her right would see her as a shadow, her silhouette backlit by the setting sun. Perhaps she would appear as a shadow from other angles. She wouldn't be surprised considering her sable-black fur.

Yes, that cursed fur which seemed to absorb all of the heat from the sun. She would not be surprised to find that the rest of the world was frigid as a result of the her pelt absorbing all of the sunlight. It was a ragged thing, her fur: wild and ungroomed, hanging loosely from her gaunt frame. Not exactly attractive. Of course, Lucille wasn't very concerned with her appearance - she had been on the move for a couple of days, and would take the time to groom herself once she seemed it fit to return back to her uprights' home. For now, her top priority was finding a meal.

She had considered going to the Reaching Stones. The uprights there seemed far kinder than hers, and it was always cool and shady there. Unfortunately, the rodent population was picked over at the moment. Her next pick was easy; the tracks were always fairly empty, and the rodents were plump and stupid. In winter the tracks seemed to be completely devoid of life, but she had given the area ample time to awaken.

It seemed she was right. The soft skittering of paws revealed a young dormouse, nervously pacing back and forth. Quietly, she slunk behind an old pile of upright junk - nasty metal things with a horribly unnatural smell. Dull sapphire eyes peered around the pile at her target. Slowly, the feline sank into a comfortable crouch, her bobbed tail twitching with anticipation. The rodent seemed to be taunting her: wandering towards her hiding spot, before slowly looping away. But she could be patient. With every pace the mouse grew closer, and soon enough she would be able to simply snag it with a quick flash of her paw. If nobody interrupted her, that is.

[open! trying out a new charrie ]

Willowpaw was eyeing the other cat warrily, watching her hunt. She bristled a tiny bit at the thought o interacting with the other cat. A small mouse skittered away, scaring her out of the bush she was hiding in as well as scaring away the the critter the other she-cat was attempting to catch. "uhh... Hi?" Willowpaw said cringing at herself as she laid on her back. Quickly hopping off and shaking herself off, she bowed her head in apology for scaring away this cat's prey. "Uh... Sorry for scaring away your food, if you want I'll catch you something..." Willowpaw offered, the wind blowing her black and brown splotched white fur. She glanced away completely rigid in case she had to run or fight.Her blue adnd green eyes glanced around nervously looking for a good escape route, she knew the territory well but so could this cat.