Warriors RPG (V2)

[The Kingpin]

Shadowsoul chuckled lowly as he considered the tom's complaint. "Good things come to those who wait, Firestreak. Besides, I'm quite sure most already recognise your services and merits. Probably more so than mine, all things considered. Having a background as a Loner AND Shadowclan warrior tends to do that to you, even if not everyone knows it" growled the older Warrior with a smirk...

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

"Yeah but you've got experience on your side," Firestreak mewed in reply, shrugging off Shadowsoul's praise. And I've got vitality, he added to himself, taking a good-natured jab at the older tom.

[C S]

Tiberium and Ferallion walked on through the more sparsely covered area of Windclan's borders. They did not make too much of an effort to keep low and to break their outlines among the rises and dips of the grassy land. They smelled the recent scents of clan cats and decided that to act natural at the risk of appearing arrogant was the better thing to do. The alternative was appearing suspicious and cagey should the patrols happen upon them, which they should have been by all means.

The two walked a narrow path: either come off as nonthreatening and insinuate that they had no care for territory boundaries or remain guarded and be even more liable to scrutiny and hostility. Tiberium felt that there would not be much difference in the fates he and his brother would share should they be caught. The best option they had was to move quickly without being caught. They could only hope the patrols were already far along in their rounds and that the wind would not conspire against them.

[The Kingpin]

"Experience is nothing when those you wish to pass it on to you do not trust you. If anything, it only makes them more wary of you. Take young Shortear this morning, for example" responded Shadowsoul calmly as he casually lay beneath a large bush at the foot of the tree, batting a leaf aside as it fell towards his muzzle...

[Hopeflower]

Despite Mapleleaf's lost bird, Shadowstar's patrol were returning with a decently-sized catch. The fact that they'd had to go nearly all the way to Fourtrees when most of the prey in their area had hidden themselves away probably cut their hunting mission short and definitely lengthened the trek home; Shadowstar's jaw was beginning to ache from holding onto her thrush and a young squirrel. Falconflight was carrying his vole and a mouse by their tails, and Mapleleaf had discovered a robin with a broken wing. She'd killed it quickly, ending its suffering. Laden with prey, the walk back was sure to be slower, but the day was still young. They had plenty of time.

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

Firestreak waved a paw dismissively. "That's just Shortear being Shortear. Ever since she was made a warrior she's been pretty full of herself," he meowed, shrugging awkwardly on his small perch. "I think there are a lot more cats than just you and I hoping she grows out of it."

Silhouetted against the glaring sun, a WindClan patrol appeared at the ridge of one of the moor's rolling hills. On their way to check the borders of their territory, the cats visibly bristled when they saw the two toms slinking about. With a yowl of disapproval to announce their arrival, the patrol charged down to meet them; it was unclear whether they would stop to ask questions.

Meanwhile, a small, crumpled form dragged itself through the undergrowth of the forest. The cat, young and impressionable, had seen better days. Blood seeped from one of its shoulders, one eye was swollen shut, and one of its back legs was raised awkwardly above the ground, reducing its already uneasy steps into a limping stagger. Worst of all, it could not remember how things had got so bad. Surely, being brought to the brink of death shouldn't be such a mystery? It could not even remember where it was, or how it had got there; the earthy, life-rich sights, sounds, and scents seemed strangely alien to it. This definitely wasn't home.

"Keep...going," Eli murmured to himself, repeating the phrase over and over like a mantra. For some reason, he found a strange comfort in the words. He may not know where he was, how he got there, or why he was injured, but he knew he had to keep moving. It was...life or death, but he did not know why.

[Hopeflower]

The tabby leader suddenly paused, her ears pricked warily. Over the nearly overpowering scent of fresh-kill, was that the reek of blood? Unable to call out a warning, she flicked her tail at her patrol, wordlessly trying to tell them to wait. Falconflight shot her a questioning look. What was she doing?

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

With one working eye and nothing but the overpowering scent of prey around him, Eli wandered onward virtually blind. Even then, he found himself stepping lightly, avoiding twigs and dry leaves. Drowsy from blood loss, he couldn't remember why. Was there something here he was supposed to be afraid of? Was that why he was trying so hard to move silently? The young cat tried to step over a large branch and lost his balance, stumbling onward a few paces until finally righting himself with his wounded limb. Although he kept himself on his paws, a flurry of pain lanced through the leg upon contact with the ground. Eli did his best to stifle the resulting cry of pain, turning it instead into a moaning gurgle.

[Hopeflower]

The noise caught Shadowstar's attention, her ears swiveling to pinpoint the direction it came from. Her gut reaction hadn't been wrong; there was an injured cat nearby. She dropped her fresh-kill and trotted toward the sound, the scent of blood stronger now that she didn't have still-warm prey under her nose.

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

Eli's ears, flecked with blood that may or may not be his own, flattened against his skull as the foliage began to move. The young cat's fur started to bristle, and for a moment he seemed committed to fighting it out. Another misstep with his bad leg reminded him of his weakness, however, and he opted instead to hide. Suppressing another cry of pain, he hobbled back the direction he came, toward a clump of bracken that stood a few fox-lengths away. His progress was painfully slow, but his focus narrowed and he thought of nothing but the safety of the vegetation.

[Hopeflower]

The scent was growing stronger - Shadowstar picked up her pace further, worried about the cat's condition with how heavy the reek hung in the air. Ignoring Falconflight's startled call to wait for them, she shouldered her way out of the undergrowth and spotted the injured cat. She couldn't help her startled intake of breath or the horrified widening of her eyes. Forcing her voice not to shake, she called softly, "It's alright, little one. I won't hurt you." She had to stop herself from approaching while the young, wounded cat's back was turned; somehow she didn't feel that would endear her to it.

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

The young cat's bristling pelt suddenly stood straight up. A spike of fear shot through him at the sound of the voice, regardless of its helpful meaning and soft tone. Eli let out a frustrated whimper as he struggled awkwardly into the bracken, throwing all rational thought to the wind as he sought desperately for shelter. Is this why I am like this? he couldn't help but think. Will I die here?

[Hopeflower]

Shadowstar followed cautiously, confused but not entirely surprised by the response. The poor youngster looked as though he'd sustained a thorough beating, though from what, it was hard to say. Other cats? Had it run into another Clan's border patrol? Perhaps the rogue Firestreak had reported had something to do with this, if there were others in the area. Or maybe the stranger had run afoul of a fox, or worse, a badger. Mistpool would need to take a closer look at the wounds to be sure. The tabby leader crouched to peer into the bracken, just outside the range of the strange cat's claws, hoping for a better look at the amount of damage. Please, Falconflight, she pleaded mentally as she heard the sounds of her patrol following her, stay back. Don't come closer yet.

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

Eli's one good eye peered back at the ThunderClan leader through the bracken, huddled against the base of the plant. Noticing that his pursuer was also a feline - a fact that should have been obvious when it spoke to him - the young tomcat relaxed ever so slightly. Regardless, something told him he was not safe simply because they were of the same species. His lip curled back threateningly, and he tried his best not to lean on his injured leg. He needed to make himself as threatening as possible, and whimpering in pain like a helpless kit wasn't the way to do it.

[Hopeflower]

The tabby she-cat tucked her forepaws under her chest and purred reassuringly, making sure there wasn't even the hint of a threat in her posture and carefully shifting so the young cat could see her pelt was lying flat. "I'm not going to hurt you," she repeated gently. "What's your name?"

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

"M-my name doesn't matter!" the young cat retorted hoarsely; it felt as though his throat was as dry as a drought in greenleaf. "I don't want any trouble," he insisted, his lip quivering as if to snarl. Almost without thinking, he added a quiet, "Please."

[Hopeflower]

Shadowstar tipped her head to one side, keeping her peaceful exterior. "It's alright," she meowed, her tone reassuring and coaxing. "I want to help. May I look at those wounds, little one?"

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

"You can see them just fine," the cat mumbled stubbornly, shuffling uneasily. He felt so powerless! Part of him wanted to charge out and bury his face in the she-cat's fur like a kit reunited with its mother, but he had to be strong. He was alone, and he couldn't afford to make mistakes now; his next one could cost him his life. Reluctantly, he inched a little bit forward, turning his head to let the she-cat see his shoulder. The bleeding had slowed to a trickle, but his fur was practically caked in blood.

[Hopeflower]

Shadowstar stretched her neck out for a better look, not daring to make any moves more sudden than that in case she frightened the young cat back into his hiding place, and winced at the amount of blood she could see. It was hard to tell how deep the wound itself was without cleaning it up - this was Mistpool's area of expertise, not hers. "That must hurt," she mewed sympathetically. "I can have another cat treat you, if you'd be willing to come out. She knows how to use herbs; you wouldn't have to worry about any of them getting infected."

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

"It isn't as bad as it looks," he replied with another mumble, hoping he sounded more convinced than he felt. Eli stared out at the she-cat for several tense moments, his posture and expression more terrified than angry. "H-how can I trust you?"