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Post by sil on Jun 1, 2012 22:16:29 GMT -5
[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,0,true] | [atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Qbg1.png]Quinn burst through the foliage, disturbing the otherwise peaceful twilight. The metallic tags on her collar reflected the moonlight in bright slivers of silvery light as she about-faced with practiced ease after her quarry. Normally, she would be more careful with keeping her tags silent, but the caution was unnecessary in this chase; they chimed gently, rhythmically. A plumb squirrel raced frantically just a few mouse-lengths ahead of the she-cat’s nose.
An unfortunate, unexpected shift in the wind had alerted her prey to her location, and the animal had taken off. Quinn made up for it with quick speed while predicting the escape path of her prey. When the squirrel leaped toward a tree, Quinn pounced. She caught it on the trunk of a thick tree, ripping it away from the bark and snatching it again before it could run off. A swift bite to the neck ended its life quickly and Quinn bent over her prey with a purr.
Quinn picked her face up from the corpse when a new smell, coming from a number of paces to her right, reached her. Even over the scent of mouth-watering freshkill, Quinn could smell the scent markers. SouthClan’s border! Happiness at finding their destination and making a good kill thrummed through her body. She picked up her freshkill and trotted back to tell her companion the good news.
“Wildcat,” she called, her mews muffled by fur. When she reached the place she’d seen him last, his musky smell still in the area, Quinn dropped the prey and licked her maw. “Dinner’s here,” she meowed. But “dinner” was a house folk word that Ismo likely never heard, so she corrected herself. “Er, I mean I brought food. And we’re near SouthClan.”
Excited, Quinn dug into her kill. Little did she know that this would be the last meal she’d have for a while, for on the other end of the scent markers, the SouthClan cats were suffering under the oppression of famine.
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Post by ghostwoodwarrior on Jun 1, 2012 23:27:20 GMT -5
[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,0,true] | [atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Ibg.png] Ismo watched Quinn enter their makeshift camp from the shadows of one of the many ferns that covered the forest floor. He could tell she wasn't paying attention at all, and why should she, her mouth was full of food and he was no threat to her; well, usually. Ismo crouched low, tensing the muscles in his back legs, readying himself for the strike. After Quinn had consumed several mouthfuls, he decided the time was right and he leapt directly at her; not in threat, just in jest since he was rather bored. He landed with his legs to either side of the much smaller she-cat, mouth open wide. And then he let his weight fall on her, taking care to put pressure but not enough to harm. "Oh! You meant the squirrel! You just looked so delicious, I thought for a moment you meant yourself." Ismo gave Quinn's left ear a quick nip before lifting himself off of her. "No thanky you dear. Those frogs I decided to catch before we left the swamp are holding me over rather well. Though they were quite the nuisance getting a hold of. Besides, that squirrel is barely enough for you. So enjoy! I am simply glad to be back in a terrain I know and understand. Makes me feel much more secure." His prank completed, Ismo sprawled himself next to Quinn while she continued with her meal and listened to his surroundings. The tufts atop his ears swayed as his ears swiveled around his head. This forest sounded much like his own home far from here, but it seemed much quieter. This unsettled him somewhat since the food for prey seemed plentiful enough so there should be prey creatures abound. Ismo refused to let this disturb him too much though, otherwise it might distract him from more important things. He noted what could have been a rabbit in the distance but wasn't sure and didn't think he could locate it before it found shelter. So he turned back towards his traveling companion. His silver eyes gladly finding her blue. "Enjoying your meal, Quinn?"
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Post by Kenya on Jun 1, 2012 23:41:31 GMT -5
~Foxkit~ Foxkit let out a gasp as he tripped over the thick root of a tree. Again. His small body made it easy for him to squeeze through the tangles of the forest but his short legs kept making him lag behind. Is this still Westclan? He thought jumping over another thick root. Pausing he lifted his nose to sniff out the enemy roaming his territory. He thought he could sniff out the one she-cat, but everything smelled strange! “This is why I should have been made an apprentice!” He grumbled pelting through some ferns to catch up. He had to be far into Westclan now! Nothing looked like the marshes of his camp! ”I’ll show them I’m ready! “ As he walked he noticed the smells around him changing. This didn’t smell like home to him anymore. Where was he? Foxkit skidded to a halt and flattened his body to the ground like he had seen the apprentices practice in the camp. The stranger was so close! He quickly lost all thoughts of being lost and focused on the threatening cat. Foxkit was almost startled by her size. He was even more shocked when he saw the tom. He’s huge! He thought noting that the tom was closest to him. Even though he was six moons old now both cats were still much larger than him. His pelt prickled with fear as he took a step back. No! he thought narrowing his dusty brown eyes. Now was the time to attack! With his short kit-like tail held high and his claws unsheathed he charged out from the ferns now not bothering to be quiet or pick up his feet. He threw his small ginger and white body at the large tom’s back leg and tried to sink his teeth into the cat’s thick fur. “I’ve got you now! Surrender or face the consequences prisoner!” He yowled through a mouth-full of fur. He was braver then his whole clan! He wouldn’t be scared to attack them! Foxkit was sure after he brought them back as prisoners that he would be made an apprentice! He would get his warrior name a lot sooner than his siblings. Then Deputy and Leader. Foxstar! The name echoed in his mind as he tried to hang on to the large tom’s leg. This cat was so much bigger then he had thought! Fear started to overcome him again but still he held on, his jaws clamped tightly shut. His eyes locked on the other cat now. She was so big too! Foxkit wondered if they were clan cats from another clan. He didn’t know their smell, nor the clan smells. His small ginger pelt prickled as he held on and wrinkled his nose in a suppressed kit-hiss at Quinn in his fear.
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Post by sil on Jun 2, 2012 0:50:25 GMT -5
[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,0,true] | [atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Qbg1.png]It was hard for a cat as large as Ismo to move through an area quietly or to sneak up on her, especially when Quinn rarely, if ever, let her guard down. Quinn resumed her meal, a smile spreading her maw. She could faintly hear twigs snapping and foliage being brushed aside. Deciding to play along, the only indication that she heard anything was the occasional twitch of her ear.
A cat did leap out at her, but not at all from the area she had been watching. Shocked, her heart leaping into her throat, Quinn spun around to meet her attacker. Ismo pounced upon her playfully and pinned her down.
His smell and comforting weight calmed her heart rate and she released a heavy sigh. She scrabbled at his underbelly with sheathed back paws in mock struggle and pushed against his shoulders with her front paws. “Oh, you brute! It’s impolite to interrupt a she-cat at her meal.”Ismo nipped at her ear and a pleasant shiver ran down her spine. Her skin flushed under her Snowshoe coat.
He then lay down beside her, and Quinn felt incredibly at ease with the feel of him at the tips of her fur, though admittedly she was glad he’d moved when he did; the she-cat would be mortified if he caught on to how flustered she got at their physical proximity. She had never felt so comfortable with another cat before. She gazed over at him, blue eyes flashing. “Suit yourself,” she meowed, returning to her freshkill. “More for me. Like I said before, we’re right next to SouthClan. So are we gonna head right into their territory or hang around here for a while?” It turned out Ismo was perfectly silent, so what had she heard earlier?
With a morsel of squirrel in her mouth, Quinn glanced over to where the sounds had come from. Nothing. As she crouched to finish off the squirrel, an orange streak popped out of the underbrush, yowling shrilly. A ginger ball of shrieking fur promptly attached itself to Ismo’s back leg. It mumbled something about surrendering and capturing prisoners, its voice squeaking with youth, before it locked eyes with her.
It hissed at her then, amber eyes briefly shining with fear. Startled and confused, Quinn blinked back at it. Strong WestClan scent came off his fox-colored pelt. A WestClan kit, here??
Realization reaching her, Quinn wanted to jump up with a few colorful curses, but she kept herself calm. “You’re pretty far from your mommy, little mouse-brain.”
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Post by ghostwoodwarrior on Jun 2, 2012 15:15:39 GMT -5
[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,0,true] | [atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Ibg.png] The rabbit sounded as if it was getting closer, but something was off about it; even a rabbit was typically quieter than this. He dismissed this again and focused back to the pleasant proximity of Quinn. But then he heard the tiny shriek and felt a thump on his back leg along with tiny pokes here and there. Ismo turned his head just enough to see the ball of fluffed fur attempting to chew and claw its way through his thick coat.
"You're pretty far from your mommy, little mouse-brain." Ismo laughed quietly at the ball's muffled threats and as Quinn confirmed that the creature attached to him was indeed a kit. He sniffed and could still smell the swamp on the ginger youth. A West clan kit then. The little fellow must have followed them all this way trying to make a name for himself. Ismo sensed Quinn's annoyance at the intruder, but he was still in a playful mood so he decided to handle the little scrapper his own way.
He looked at Quinn with a confused look on his face. "I have this strange feeling, my dear. It is as if something is trying to eat me. Do you ever have that feeling?" Ismo stood and was surprised that the little kit was still clinging on. He was rather impressed by the little kit's tenacity. Ismo turned slowly, making as if he was searching for what could be disturbing him. Then he turned back to Quinn and followed her eyes to the kit still clinging to his leg. "Oh well hello there, little friend!" Ismo purred in mock surprise as he lay back down. "You must be a very brave and fierce warrior! Only such a warrior would be able to attack two cats so much larger than himself. But what has you so far from home young one?"
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Post by Kenya on Jun 2, 2012 16:07:36 GMT -5
~Foxkit~ Foxkit realized his biting was doing no good against the toms thick pelt. I think I'm in over my head... he thought, and hated to admit it. Releasing his grip he slid to the ground with a thump, sending up a small cloud of dirt around his ginger and white pelt. "You really think so? You think I'm brave?!" He meowed, his eyes bright at the cats praise. Foxkit didn't understand that the cats were teasing him. "Larksong doesn't know where I am! So many cats are sick, I wanted to help" he said puffing out his chest, "I'm almost an apprentice! I wanted to make sure you left our territory!" Foxkit pulled himself to his paws, remembering these were enemy cats and tried to sound intimidating. He didn't feel the need to hide Westclan's secrets, he didn't know any better. "We're not in Westclan anymore are we? I could tell." He lied turning around to leave. "And uh..Don't come back!" Foxkit padded towards the fern he lept out of fully intending to walk home. Sticking his nose through the ferns he sniffed the air. Everything smelled so strange! Foxkit flattened his ears as he stepped forward in order to maintain his brave face. Now that he had no goal in mind the forest looked so dark. The trees blotted out the sun making the forest dark and cold. The tangles of vines looked menacing and the shadows moved around him. Foxkit took in a deep breath and looked around further. What cat would live here? He thought wrinkling his nose. His front paw touched something soft and before he could pull his foot away a dull white bird flushed up into the trees, startled from the encounter. Foxkit turned with a yowl and ran back to the strangers. Bolting, he skidded underneath of the she-cat and peeked his eyes out from her front legs, his tail sticking up and frazzled from the other side. Panting and eyes wide he looked up to the she-cat not bothering to come out from underneath her. "If I were an apprentice I'd make it fresh kill!" He said, hissing at the bird that was now squawking absurdly somewhere above them. The fear scent rolled off his soft pelt in waves as he caught his breath.
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Post by sil on Jun 2, 2012 20:17:47 GMT -5
[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,0,true] | [atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Qbg1.png]Ismo couldn’t see how much trouble they could be in. Quinn had to remind herself that her companion wasn’t familiar with the Clan cats like she was. What were they going to do with this lost kit? They couldn’t just send him back; how on earth the runt made it this far without falling prey to some predator or hurt himself was beyond her. And they definitely couldn’t bring the kit right back to WestClan. The last Warrior they met, Nighteye, was inherently hostile toward the two of them. It had taken a lot of time to get the she-cat to warm up to them enough to not hiss in their faces at every question they asked. The other Clan cats would just be worse. If even one implied that Ismo and Quinn had taken the kit against his will, some others would find themselves agreeing. And the older the Clan cat, the more irritable and prejudiced they could be toward outsiders.
But Ismo remained calm, playing along with the little tom as he clung to the half-wildcat’s leg with every ounce of strength in his tiny orange body. His eyes met hers, and Quinn found herself settling down. “I…” she meowed uncertainly. She looked back down at the kit and sighed. “I think you have a tick, wildcat. They’re attracted to your feral blood.”
Foxkit finally released her companion, staring up at him in excitement at the big tom’s praise. He kept up his brave front for a while before turning back to the area he had jumped out at them. Quinn almost stopped him, fearful that he’d hurt himself, until a startled bird sent him scrambling back to them.
And right under Quinn’s paws.
Feeling awkward and unsure, the Showshoe resisted the temptation to jump back with a hiss. Her ears flattened against her creamy-colored head and her eyes narrowed, but her heart melted at the terrified expression on his face and the fear-scent coming off his ginger pelt. Chocolate tail swishing behind her, Quinn prodded affectionately at Foxkit’s exposed, white belly. “If you were an apprentice? You look plenty old enough to be an apprentice,” she observed. Quinn turned to Ismo with a mock pleading look. “He’s so cute, can we keep him?”
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Post by ghostwoodwarrior on Jun 2, 2012 21:46:51 GMT -5
[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,0,true] | [atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Ibg.png] Ismo smiled and dropped his head down to the kit's eye level. "It is true, I believe you to be very brave. But you are very young and have made rash decisions that have you in quite a predicament now. Now we have to get you back home..." Then what the kit had said fully sunk in. The others were sick? How many? What caused it? The youth could be infected, keeping him could be a risk! No, Quinn and I would have already been exposed having spent several days in the swamp. Oh dear, maybe I shouldn't have eaten those frogs!
Ismo shook his head to clear it. This was quite a predicament indeed. With his new knowledge of the Warrior code, Ismo knew that bringing this kit past the South clan markers could bring up debate at whether he could return home. Then again, if they returned him, they would likely meet with irrational hostility and the danger of this sickness. Ismo was at a complete loss about what to do about this young cat. He decided that taking things slowly would be best.
Ismo sat down next to Quinn, a trying to add more to the kit's defense against this new environment. He gave Quinn a quick look, trying to relay all his concerns and thoughts into that one act, before leaning down again to speak to the kit. "So you said your mother is Larksong? What is your name then little one?"
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Post by Kenya on Jun 2, 2012 23:43:22 GMT -5
~Foxkit~ "I should be an apprentice!" He meowed staring at the ground and kneading his paws into the dirt which muddied them. "Some of the cats are getting sick, and Thrushstar is very busy. I decided if I chased you off, everyone would see I was ready." Foxkit picked up a dirty paw and licked it a few times until his white fur showed through. When the she-cat said he was 'cute' Foxkit wrinkled his nose and stared up at her with defying brown eyes. "I'm not cute!" He said stomping his paw back into the dirt. "I'm going to be a warrior! Warriors aren't 'cute!' You sound like Nighteye. She says that all the time!" he squeaked. Foxkit stifled a yawn making his last words drawn out and hard to hear. He leaned against Quinn's legs for support allowing his eyes to droop. He had gone so far today, but how would he get home? Suddenly he thought of home, and of Larksong. "My name is Foxkit" He meowed looking past the two cats into the jungle. "Larksong won't miss me! She has Otterkit and Fawnkit" he said more for his own comfort then theirs. How would he get home? He didn't even know how he got here! His ginger ears swung back slightly as he started into the thick leaves of the dark forest around them. This was nothing like home. The ground was so hard and everything was much drier. The scent around him smelled like a rotted frog to him, and Foxkit found himself already missing the scent of his clan. Great Starclan! I haven't even been gone long! I'm not a kit anymore! He found his self-scolding didn't have much effect. He was in real trouble now, and Larksong wasn't there to save him.
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Post by sil on Jun 3, 2012 20:38:22 GMT -5
[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,0,true] | [atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Qbg1.png]Quinn took a pace backward and then lay down so that Foxkit was between her front paws and that she was at eye level with the young cat. She exchanged a long glance with Ismo, catching onto his look and giving him a small nod.
She leveled her head at the kit seriously. “I’m sorry if I insulted you. You are indeed a very courageous tom. For that reason, I’m sure your mother—and your Clan—misses you very much.” Quinn looked over at Ismo again from the corner of her powdery eyes. “Listen, Foxkit. Do you mind staying with us for a while? We can’t go back to WestClan with you, and we can’t exactly just let you go off on your own. You see, we’re lost. We’re trying to find SouthClan but we don’t have a brave Clan cat to guide us. Can you help us, Foxkit?”
The she-cat gave the kit a hopeful smile. There were a great deal of reasons behind asking him these things; one, she didn’t want to leave the young tom alone, two, she didn’t want him to go back to the sickness he claimed was plaguing his Clan, three, he was more familiar with Clan life than both of them combined, even at six moons old, and his knowledge would be useful to them, and four, most importantly, she absolutely did not want to get on WestClan’s bad side by returning the kit or leaving him to fend for himself.
“Don’t you think Foxkit would make an excellent guide, Ismo?” she meowed brightly. Quinn wished that her companion would follow her line of thinking when it came to the little lost runt.
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Post by ghostwoodwarrior on Jun 4, 2012 18:06:46 GMT -5
[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,0,true] | [atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Ibg.png] Strange feelings stirred within Ismo as he looked upon Quinn lying with the young cat between her paws. He felt happy and warm, as if this was how things could be; should be. Thoughts poured through his mind as he went over all the events that have led up to this point. Ismo never expected to have the help of this beautiful she-cat, especially since she so preferred life on her own. And despite the resistance he had encountered from the Warriors so far, he was still intent on pursuing his goal. What surprised Ismo most though, was that he was beginning to feel that he could be content without becoming part of one of these clans. In fact he was coming to hope that he could stay with Quinn, regardless of where his path led.
Ismo looked at the kit and a wide toothy smile spread across his face. ”Foxkit…that is a strong name. Very fitting for a future Warrior.” Ismo listened patiently as Quinn soothed the youth, whose eyes drooped wearily, and asked if he would like to stay and guide them. He knew it was likely that this cat knew little of the other clans or directions, but life amongst the clans was life amongst the clans and Foxkit knew what that was like. He was still worried that someone would think they had kidnapped the adventurous West clan cat but with Quinn’s silver tongue, Ismo felt confident any mishap could be smoothed over. So the wildcat fibbed, ”Indeed, I believe our new friend would be a fantastic guide! And since it is rather difficult for us to take you home Foxkit, I think that would be a great idea for you to stay with us. Besides, this allows you to see more of the world, and experience new things which will give you an advantage over your competition back in your clan.” Ismo gave Foxkit a confident wink, hoping that would settle any of the kit’s lingering uncertainty.
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Post by Kenya on Jun 5, 2012 21:52:27 GMT -5
~Foxkit~ Foxkit leaned back slightly as Quinn settled down with him in between her paws. His brown eyes narrowed and he eyed her suspiciously. I'm not a kit anymore! I can do it myself! He opened his little pink mouth to protest when she said that they were lost and needed his help. The young toms suspicions died instantly and his eyes lit up with excitement. Foxkit swiveled his small ginger head to look as Ismo expectantly as she asked if he believed that Foxkit could guide them. Could he? "You're right!" He meowed excitedly jumping to his paws like a rabbit. "Otterkit and Fawnkit won't know anything when I get home! I'll be deputy faster than any cat!...EVER" he squeaked, almost seeming to jump into the air. Energy overcame him and Foxkit scampered around Quinn in three wide circles then darted over and started circling swiftly around Ismo's paws. "I'm going to see everything! I'll know more than any other cat!" He panted still running in circles like a fox in a fit. "Come on!" He yowled, his little chest heaving from his burst of energy. "This will be great!" Foxkit bunched up his legs and jumped, pulling himself onto Quinn's back. He pawed forward and placed his front paws on her head and boosted himself up. "I'll be the best warrior ever!" He mewed imagined himself as leader with Quinn being his place where he could address the other cats.
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Post by sil on Jun 5, 2012 22:31:21 GMT -5
[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,0,true] | [atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Qbg1.png]Quinn felt her heart swell at the kit’s excitement. She met gazes with Ismo as the young tom ran enthusiastically around the two of them. They could make this work. Determined, she would bring Foxkit back to his home once she was certain it was safe for both Foxkit’s health and Ismo’s potential standing with the Clans.
When an excited Foxkit sprang onto her back, Quinn rose to her paws. Willing him to keep his balance, she held steady for a moment to let the kit relish the moment. Then she leaned back onto her haunches and swiftly dipped her head forward, angling her front legs so Foxkit would have a kind of ramp to tumble off of.
“Okay,” the Showshoe began, speaking slowly so that Foxkit could understand and her companion could interject if he felt the need, “first I need to establish one thing. It’s very important that no cat knows that you are from WestClan, understand?” She gently battered the young tom’s flanks in a playful manner to make sure his excitement was curbed enough that he would pay attention. “So will you play a game with us, Foxkit? All you have to do is pretend to be a loner—like Ismo and I. The other Clans will never let you scope out their territories knowing you’re a WestClanner, am I right? You’ll need a loner name, too.”
Quinn sat back, ears and whiskers twitching in contemplation. “How about Star?” she offered. Hopefully, the name would appeal to the tom’s admiration for his Clan leader and his drive to become one himself.
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Post by ghostwoodwarrior on Jun 5, 2012 23:18:27 GMT -5
[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,false][atrb=border,0,true] | [atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g171/Sillvy/Ibg.png] Ismo found himself having a hard time keeping track of the young cat as it circled both he and Quinn with such overwhelming excitement. Maybe we shouldn’t have fed his ego quite so much. He thought to himself. But Ismo couldn’t help but find joy in the younger cat’s enthusiasm. And he snorted with the failed attempt to hold in his laughter as Foxkit jumped upon Quinn’s back to use her for extra elevation. He continued to chuckle silently as Quinn brought up the very real fact that Foxkit must change his identity for the safety of all.
”Yes, a new name would be a very good idea. But you must also make sure not to speak of the sickness in your camp Little One, because that would make West clan seem weak and who knows the danger that could put them all in.” And as Foxkit was preoccupied being pawed by Quinn he leaned close to her ear and whispered ”At least he isn’t too excited about all this. Could be quite the handful if he was, I’m sure.”
Ismo then padded around behind Foxkit and layed himself down so the kit was right between the ends of his beard tufts, giving him a beige and black mane around his tiny ginger head. ”And Star seems like a good name indeed. Though, the final decision is yours Foxkit.” Ismo had a slight suspicion that the young one might have a more…ferocious, name to bestow upon himself. The wildcat stole a quick glance at Quinn; then again, I have been wrong before he thought.
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Post by Kenya on Jun 6, 2012 19:54:30 GMT -5
~Foxkit//Star~ Foxkit rolled over to escape Ismo and scrambled to his paws very ungracefully. He continued to run around him in wide circles. "Yes! I'll be Star! I'll be Star like a secret clan leader!" He boasted skidding to a halt in between the two cats. "The other cats will never know! They're a bunch of snake-hearts anyways!" Before he could resist his jaws parted in a wide yawn, and his paws started to feel tired as his energy faded away. Foxkit shook his head but yawned again. All the running had taken the last of the ginger kit's energy. He looked from one cat to another, an laid down wrapping his rail around to cover his nose. "Can we visit the clans later?" He whined letting out another yawn. " I can't walk anymore" He looked up to Quinn with an idea in his mind. She was to small though to be much comfort. so getting to his paws he clumsily climbed onto Ismo's back without so much as a squeak of asking permission. Foxkit, Star now, knew his mother would of scolded him if he had done that to a warrior. His eyes closed for a few moments longer and opened again. He didn't care. After all, the greatest warrior in the world needed some sleep as well.
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