wear it like a message (stag) | Closed

wear it like a message (stag) Dec 1, 2015 21:04:53 GMT

Post by hallelujah on Dec 1, 2015 21:04:53 GMT

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found gold in the wreckage

[attr="class","itdscroll"]Alright, so caring for the elders wasn't Flurrypaw's favorite task. She huddled in the medicine cat den, pouting in the general vicinity that her mentor had only just vacated for more important purposes, like healing the sick and tending the wounded. Which I'm supposed to be doing too! She whined, inner voice wailing in her head like a newborn kit. It wasn't that she disliked the elders or even disliked cleaning their dens or using the mouse bile to rid them of ticks. Though it... really isn't the best. Flurrypaw just wanted to be wherever Beetleberry was. She shoved her paws around, pushing around a minuscule pile of dust and dirt between her paws, having seated herself just inside the medicine cat den. If she leaned far enough, the fluffy apprentice could make out the elders den, awaiting her arrival with its gaping entrance beckoning, prey to a warrior's open mouth. Flurrypaw sighed gustily and leaned back, eyes dropping down to the pile of dirt between her paw pads. Her huff was heavy enough to stir the fur on her chest, from where her chin had dropped with all the weight of the world on her shoulders, but wasn't strong enough to disperse the dust, so she flattened it with her paw and spread it away, smearing the dirt back into the den's floor.

The gray-and-white she-cat got to her paws and peeked out of the medicine cat den one more time, hoping to spot one of her siblings and put off the distraction chore for a few more moments. Naturally, Whitetip, Dawnstorm, and Mallowpaw were nowhere to be found. Flurrypaw's tail and ears drooped as one. She summoned up energy from somewhere, probably her empty belly, and trotted out of the den, heading for the elders with a steely look on her face. Even if she wanted to be doing real medicine cat stuff, and not refurnishing the elders den or removing their ticks, Flurrypaw knew the elders were just as important as any other clan member, and so when she ducked into their den, a warm purr was rumbling in her chest. The elders, unsurprisingly, were happy to see her and Flurrypaw was immediately directed to dispose of one elder's bedding. She started gathering the old bedding together, wrinkling her nose at the old cat smell wafting up into her nose. As she worked, Flurrypaw listened absently to the elders gossiping, wondering with amusement if one of her siblings might be mentioned. No such luck, though, and Flurrypaw leaned down to grab up the ball of old moss, when another cat pushed into the den and she straightened up, curiosity lighting up her eyes.

TAGGING stag

MEL @ ADOX

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wear it like a message (stag) Dec 5, 2015 17:24:33 GMT

Post by stag on Dec 5, 2015 17:24:33 GMT

RABBITLEAP

489 words for flurrypaw

Rabbitleap had just been ushered, with no little affection, from the Nursery. While he'd considered it a rather proper place to be, the little den wasn't necessarily equipped to handle his impressive girth. He'd trundled in, oblivious and good-natured, to settle himself at Poppybird's side. At this point, he'd launched into a lengthy, but enthralling in his own opinion, account of the discovery of the clan territories. It had, perhaps upon retrospect, been slightly long-winded. She possibly hadn't needed his extended description of the territory they inhabited and knew so well. But he'd lost himself in it all, despite his companions scattered attempts to watch her kittens. The kittens in question had busied themselves clambered about, taking advantage of their mother's unwanted distraction.

He hadn't even reached the discovery of the river when he was, politely, interrupted. Poppybird had suggested that perhaps such a tale would be more suited to the elders. She'd insisted she'd even heard a few requesting just that story. Intrigued by the idea of a captive willing audience, Rabbitleap had allowed himself to be escorted from the Nursery. He squeezed out of the den, leaving little clumps of fur behind. Behind him, though he was little aware, the queen heaved a sigh of relief before returning to her litter. And so Rabbitleap had found himself lacking an audience. To his delight, an entire den full of listeners awaited him. Their limited mobility provided a quite literally captive audience, which he couldn't help but appreciate. Though he preferred to grant their lack of movement to his own narrative prowess.

"Hullo? Hullo there?" Rabbitleap stuck his broad head into the elder's den, belatedly remembering that some might have been peacefully snoozing. In this case, they likely wouldn't have appreciated his calls. He blinked in the relative darkness, peering around until he caught sight of Snowfoot. He felt the once noble warrior, still noble in his own opinion, appeared rather dejected. The only cure for such an ailment was, of course, some captivating company - such as himself. For once, as he walked, his belly didn't sway beneath him. He was still a robust, shaggy, portly fellow. But the recent lack of prey had affected them all. If anyone had bothered to ask, Rabbitleap was quite pleased. He found his new slim form to be particularly handsome. But this was not the issue at hand.

He plopped himself down beside his occasional colleague, plopped being the operative word. He settled himself, wriggled his nose about as if to straight a non-existent monocle. He turned to his possibly unwilling companion with a genial smile, clearing his throat with a "harumph"-ing sound. "Hullo, good fellow. I don't suppose you were in need of enlightened company such as myself?" His hopefulness was all too apparent, endearingly so. He laid his tail over his paws, awaiting either a positive reply or a happy companionable silence. He would make do with either.

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