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Post by bobbi on Aug 18, 2011 15:04:03 GMT -5
Ancestors bless her, They were not looking kindly upon her being this day. Perhaps an Orisha did not carry a message back. Ukuhlala Bobbi! the female thought, shaking her slender head firmly. Orisha are many and you are one. Do not be arrogant. Following you about all day...laughable! Besides, even if she was in a spot of mess the ancestors would not swoop down and grace her for...for this! Bobbi would have to deal with this humiliation. It was one thing for the human to demand her claws be sheathed, but another for her to wear a lead outside. Of course she wore a collar. There was no problem in the worn black leather 'round her long neck, her "information" - tags as Ian put it, tags! - and where she lived should another human come by and happen upon her. Bobbi did not like some of Ian's human ways but she'd loathe to admit she would miss him. Back to her humiliation shall we? Attached to her collar was a false silver clip, attached to that was said leash. Battered after the long run, sampled dirt and frolic alike, it still held. Confusing. The leash was usually off by now. She made sure to put distance between herself and the human's living quarters. Ian would wonder where she was but it was his fault! Nobody "walked" her and allowed those lazy, fat house cats to jeer. So it was obvious at the time. Run.
Bobbi stretched, feeling powerful muscles ripple under her thin coat. Narrowing her green eyes, she whipped her head around to glare at the strip of black cable. Damn it, she was a wild animal not some mutt! Her plan had several flaws associated with it. One: running away was fruitless. She would eventually have to go back home. Two: when she ran, she had no idea of the territory. Lost? Ha! She'd never admit it, but yes. Yes, yes, yes. She was lost. This was not her first time outside but on her own it was. Ian was always close by. Trust had been broken. She let him down. That was number three. He'd never let her outside ever again. At least not off-leash. That's what she wanted!
"Imibhedo! He cannot leave me inside forever" her head tilted to one side, a quizzed feature plastered on the face. Bobbi's thick accent rang through the meadow. She ran here, or rather stopped running, because it was familiar. Long grasses. Vast, flat slopes. Missed a few trees and a fat sun but who was to be picky? Sure, she could mention the terrain was too small. Easily one could see to the other side. Bobbi expected more. Mayhap she ran all the way back to Africa! Ah, be humble, Bobbi. The ancestors do not find miracles around every bend. She knew she was in a different country. Three years told her this.
But she found the weather sometimes was a bit like Africa. Sometimes. This was based on her limited knowledge of when she was young, locked in a cage with mother enduring the heat. Summer was close to what she felt. Back then she was weak and tiny, surrounded by siblings and their body heat. Was it like this or not? It could be an exaggeration, the mind playing tricks or her memory far gone. Yet summer was the best. Her pale spotted-and-striped pelt shone brightest in the sun. Her big ears caught the heat quicker. She was never cold and felt the sun's love. No. The land's love.
Bobbi let out a dry little chuckle, forgetting the woes of a leashed house cat in an unknown and dangerous territory for the moment. The female sat down, a pale and strange shape among the grasses. As tall as a small dog, she towered over the frolic. It tickled her chin when the breeze swayed. Irritatedly she swiped it away.
The house cat was not sure what to do next. Which way was home? She passed forest and a cement road, though direction was hazy. There could be no doubt she'd have to wait for Ian to find her, but what about food? Water? She lifted her head and sniffed, that puffy pink nose trying to work out the different scents. She picked up cat. Fresh. Many of them. It overlapped everything else.
Well, she'd sit and wait until somebody came here. Some other cat got lost surely.
[/blockquote] OOC: for cougar only. tagging: elmfrost words: 743 weather: clear, slightly humid, evening translations (Zulu to English), general African words: imibhedo - nonsense, Orisha - messengers of the ancestors, ukuhlala - stay/steady.[/size][/font]
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Post by elmfrost on Aug 19, 2011 19:20:25 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,399,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true] | [atrb=background,http://i54.tinypic.com/ehaxxj.jpg]It wasn't that he hated patrols or anything of the sort, but right there and then, he really just wanted to sleep. He knew becoming deputy was going to try him but like it had so far? It felt like he'd barely had a wink of sleep. Not that he was about to complain at anyone. He'd adjust, it was just taking longer than he needed. Almost out of habit, the tom turned his icy gaze up to the evening sky, the darkening purples and blues just letting way for the first few glimmers of silverpelt. His fur felt sticky, and he wasn't even that darkly coloured. Giving a frustrated grunt, the tom gave his pelt a hard shake, bits of loose grass and dust puffing out around him.
Yep, he was definitely a leaf-bare type of cat. Glancing back toward his companion, Elmfrost raised an eyebrow, giving the smaller she-cat the once over. After he'd organised the rest of the patrols, Petaltail had been the only one left without anything arranged. Not to mention he'd had a whole extra patrol he needed to arrange. The result was the two of them there, trudging through the long brown grass toward the far border. Despite his urge to stop moving, he didn't mind his company in the slightest. He was always open to a stroll with a fine looking she-cat. After a moment he looked away again, not saying a word, not feeling the need.
Jaws parted, the large tom yawned, only to find the action useful in more than once way. Coming to a halt, the tom gave a flick of his tail, tasting the air once more. Now, that wasn't a scent they often caught out that far was is? Looking back to the ginger she-cat again he tilted his head thoughtfully. “That is kitty-pet, isn't it?” He knew it was, but there was no harm in confirming it. Shrugging slightly, the tom moved off again, at a slower pace, his limbs moving powerfully as they moved through the long grass until finally, a shape caught his attention not far off, the same kitty-pet scent along with something else carrying toward them on the breeze.
The tabby and white tom tilted his head curiously. That was definitely a feline, but he was almost certain that kitty-pets didn't usually get that big. The forest did hold some big felines, most ThunderClan coming under that heading, and he knew for a fact he within the larger range, but he honestly didn't think the two-leg's sort would grow that big when they just sat around. Then again, the feline didn't look like she just sat there. Approaching, the tom lifted himself to his full height , glancing back at Petaltail for a moment before back again, his chin held high.
“If you don't mind me interrupting your thoughts there,” the tom called out, his bulky form pushing the grass to either side as he came to the halt barely a fox-length away. “May I enquire about what you are doing on WindClan territory?” His tone with smooth, his face emotionless except for the clear curiosity in his gaze, however his body despite being relaxed, was clearly tensed, his claws already unsheathed and prepared. Kitty-pets, well they were just cats crossing the wrong lines weren't they? They weren't any real threat while they were just sitting there stumped.
His ears swivelled around to keep track of his company's movements as he continued to watch the strangely coloured feline, waiting for a response. WORD COUNT: 589 TAGGED: bobbi/petaltail NOTES: petal was going to come into this one right? << but, here's a post anyways. [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,399,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true] | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,399,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true] |
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Post by petaltail♥ on Aug 19, 2011 21:57:11 GMT -5
Hehe, I'm so lucky. On this night, Petaltail walked with a spring in her step, a glimmer in her otherwise far away eyes. Minutes ago she was in the WindClan camp, having been left out of all the patrols she thought had been settled for the night and the next morning, she headed for her nest when Elmfrost, the beautifully blue-eyed deputy, had called for her to join him on the last patrol before morning. The ginger she-cat caught the fleeting gaze of her deputy, not reacting quickly enough to give him a smile or questioning look before he turned away again. She shrugged, and smiled to herself, inhaling the cool night air, and feeling the cold ground beneath her paws. The tall grass tickled her sides, but she didn't laugh, because Elmfrost was there, and it had been a long time since she'd laughed in front of another cat, and she wasn't planning on breaking that streak now.
Ahead of her, Elmfrost flicked his tail and stopped to taste the air. Petaltail did the same, Ah, that stench, but it's... different? Elmfrost turned to look at her, breaking the silence. “That is kitty-pet, isn't it?” The ginger she-cat caught what he was looking at, and almost cried out in shock. A tall, powerful-looking cat loomed over the moors, as if evaluating the territory, wondering with a sinister laugh how she would take over such a small world. Now, now, that's just my imagination. Elmfrost assumed his air of authority, glanced back at Petaltail, who tried to show her support in her eyes, much as she did dislike the flirtatious attitude of the tom, he was a good deputy, and spoke once more.
“If you don't mind me interrupting your thoughts there, may I enquire about what you are doing on WindClan territory?”
"She looks... dangerous. I've never seen a cat that big, I don't think we should be inquiring so much as requesting - demanding, even - that she leave our territory. I mean, Petaltail pulled her ears back in a faint hiss, continuing to whisper to Elmfrost, "better to e safe then sorry. Being smaller than most of her warrior Clan mates, Petaltail felt especially threatened by the spotted - tabby she-cat. Her tail began to bristle slightly, She looks so... "Wild. She whispered the last word to no one but herself. How can that be a kittypet?
NOTES: haha, i have no form. but both of your's are so pretty! also, did i babble? i just tried to read a chapter of the scarlet letter so my thoughts may be a bit scattered.
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Post by bobbi on Aug 20, 2011 12:29:23 GMT -5
"Ah ha ha, inkohlisa ibutho!"
Bobbi cooed the words to the two cats upon approach. First she saw the larger of the two mini-cats - a male, judging by the husky scent - move forward in a commanding pose. The smaller, less-known female followed. Green eyes narrowed. Did the male own the female to demand such domination? Certainly the female followed more slowly, allowing the male to out-pace and even speak. She saw their mouths move, caught their words before they addressed her fully. A cat! How surprised they were to see a cat out here! Bobbi was not. They were the false ones the other house cats scratched their fur about. What boiled her blood was the tom calling her a 'kittypet'. Such slander to her name, when these fools refused to give into their natural place. “If you don't mind me interrupting your thoughts there... May I enquire about what you are doing on WindClan territory?” the male even had nerve to attempt intimidation. He stalked forward, Bobbi watching this with mixed curiosity on how the natives display their hostility and growing anger. Sleek shoulders began to bristle and her wide muzzle pulled back, emitting a loud growl that ended in a vocal hiss.
"Ukuhlala, inkohlisa ibutho!" the accent becoming more heavy when irritated. The feline had all ready been displeased with this cat before the moment he had walked up and demanded her right to be here. And WindClan? Ah, yes. 'One of the four warrior cat Clans in the forest...' Those lazy pets recited it to anybody who listened. They were afraid. Afraid of what, exactly? This one barely reached her shoulders, the female smaller. Scrawny and underfed play-warriors. This land was not even forest. She passed it. What claim did they have to open fields, not a hint of a tree in sight?
"Do not insult me, false one" Bobbi drew herself to full height, green eyes looking down at the two. Mainly the male. The other had not spoken a direct word to her. Wise. Though she felt pity the female was in service to the fool. Stalking up to the male, she thrust her muzzle in his face. "I know of your little ways. Speak directly to me. Want me off your land? Why dance about it? Chase off many kttypets? I bet the ancestors have seen you do it plenty, fool."
Perhaps she should not be throwing the ancestors around so much, especially to the unworthy. Yet she was pretty confident if they wanted her gone they would have attacked by now. This was for the 'kittypets' all beaten and broken. Yes, for mother's roots. The side of the family she did not acknowledge. What of the house cats straying over into Clan territory, some never coming back or their owners finding them in awful shape. Bobbi had a heart. She didn't like it showing. A true warrior did not let their emotions get in the way.
"Phatha!" a sudden inspiration went through her. Stepping back, the feline attempted a sweet smile. Came out a sneer. "how about a compromise instead of a fight? I leave your wonderful terrain in exchange..." swirling her head, she motioned to the leash neither had noticed. "get this devil's trap off me!"
[/blockquote] OOC: yup! petal is coming in here. ;3 I just forgot to change the title of the thread. x'D tagging: elmfrost, petaltail words: 547 weather: clear, slightly humid, evening translations (Zulu to English), general African words: Bobbi uttered an insult at the beginning meaning "false warriors". She next says "Stay, false warrior!", phatha - deal/deal with [/size][/font]
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Post by elmfrost on Aug 26, 2011 22:34:25 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,399,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true] | [atrb=background,http://i54.tinypic.com/ehaxxj.jpg]Okay, yep, he really wasn't sure what to make of this feline. Standing there, tall against the grass, she fit in better than most strangers would. Maybe it was just the dappled coat or her golden colouring which matched the swaying blades. Yet, that didn't matter. The scent was enough to give away that she was an intruder, a stranger on their territory and StarClan help him if he was going to get distracted from his duties by the fact she looked like she fit there. “She looks... dangerous. I've never seen a cat that big, I don't think we should be inquiring so much as requesting - demanding, even - that she leave our territory. I mean, better to be safe then sorry.” Glancing back at Petaltail, the tom gave her a questioning look and a flick of his tail. “Oh come now, she's not that much bigger than me.” he murmured in response back to the ginger she-cat, flashing her a toothy smirk. “We'll get to the point, there's no harm starting an unnecessary fight.”
Mind you, he wouldn't have minded getting into a scrap there and then, especially if the she-cat was going to keep up the whole growling and hissing thing. She had no right to be there, and if she thought differently, he was going to have to throw his attempt at being polite out the window. "Ukuhlala, inkohlisa ibutho!" Great, and now she was speaking in a way he didn't get, this whole situation was improving out of sight. "Do not insult me, false one" Giving a low growl, Elmfrost wrinkled up his nose. False one? What did that even mean. The tom forced his pelt to stay flat though, even as she shoved her muzzle right up to his, not even flinching. Despite her wild look, she was still a kitty-pet, still wearing that stupid foreign line all of them wore. He'd rather be prisoner to RiverClan than even go near those two-legged things after all.
"I know of your little ways. Speak directly to me. Want me off your land? Why dance about it? Chase off many kittypets? I bet the ancestors have seen you do it plenty, fool." No, he was not going to get worked up about this, he refused to let her petty insults get to him. Who was she to speak? Tied up and controlled. Snorting, Elmfrost kept his face emotionless, vivid blue gaze staring directly back at her. “Have it your way. Your intruding on WindClan territory, leave now before we force you off.” Letting his pelt bristle slightly, the tom lifted himself up, trying to at least find some sort of control in the whole situation. He was the deputy now for StarClan's sake, he wasn't going to simply let her get away with talking to him like he was nothing, baring his fangs slightly, the tom gave a low chuckle.
“No, I don't, because house pets as you lot seem to prefer to be called are usually not daft enough to wander up this far. Plus, the lot of you are hardly worthy of us wasting our time on, thus the reason why I was being polite.” Seriously, it was cats like this that made him want to just attack everything without question. But, that wasn't the warrior code, everyone deserved a chance. "Phatha!" There she went, speaking in that foreign tongue again. It was really starting to get on his nerves. "how about a compromise instead of a fight? I leave your wonderful terrain in exchange, get this devil's trap off me!" No, he was almost certain he'd prefer a fight at that moment, especially with all the insults flying around. The deputy stood still for a long moment, continuing to glare down at the sharp-tongued feline.
On his paws, the tom slowly moved around, his sharp gaze sticking to the kitty-pet as he moved. He wasn't sure if he wanted to help her yet, or just show her what she was messing with. But, glancing toward Petaltail, maybe they would be better off just ending it without all the blood. After doing a full lap, he turned his attention back to his clanmate. “No idea how those things actually work personally, but,” he shrugged, flicking his tail toward the kittypet. “Your call Petaltail, any ideas how we can get the thing off?” WORD COUNT: 729 TAGGED: bobbi/petaltail NOTES: sorry for the wait. x.x scool is mean. [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,399,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true] | [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,399,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true] |
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Post by petaltail♥ on Aug 27, 2011 23:53:11 GMT -5
Ears pulled back, her paws kneading the ground below her, Petaltail looked straight past Elmfrost's gaze, not taking her eyes off the tabby. She saw Elmfrost turn his head, “Oh come now, she's not that much bigger than me.” He smirked. She scoffed, restraining herself from spouting words of poison. How long had it been since she'd felt this threatened? This angry? This... alive? Petaltail wondered how long she'd been a walking zombie, only replying with words of "Yes" and "No" or, "Thank you." She flicked her tail, breathing, calming down. If Elmfrost didn't see a reason to be immediately alarmed, then she wouldn't. And he wasn't. “We'll get to the point, there's no harm starting an unnecessary fight.” She lowered her tail, fixed her ears up right and watched.
"Ukuhlala, inkohlisa ibutho! Do not insult me, false one" ...Huh? What tongue was this? Certainly not one Petaltail had heard before. What exactly was this cat? Where was she from? What sort of Twoleg kept this kind of cat? Oops, I'm curious now. Despite the fact that she had just yelled at her deputy, who was now growling, she found the cat somewhat interesting. That is, until she hurried, with some pride in her movements, up to Elmfrost and stuck her muzzle in his face. "I know of your little ways. Speak directly to me. Want me off your land? Why dance about it? Chase off many kttypets? I bet the ancestors have seen you do it plenty, fool."
What a way to talk to a cat with such obvious authority! Petaltail thought, a growl rising in her throat. "Hey! ---" “Have it your way. Your intruding on WindClan territory, leave now before we force you off.” The ginger she-cat nodded, her eyes twinkling, her body tensed and ready to fight if need be. She wouldn't prove what the others in her Clan may be thinking; that she was lazy and half-baked about everything now a days. And maybe that was her paranoia running off with her, thinking her Clanmates talked about how she'd bee acting lately, behind her back. But, she would fight if she needed to. Never before had she felt such a strong desire to tear her claws through flesh, having been against it most of her life. That is, until this moment.
“No, I don't, because house pets as you lot seem to prefer to be called are usually not daft enough to wander up this far. Plus, the lot of you are hardly worthy of us wasting our time on, thus the reason why I was being polite.” "Mhmm." Petaltail mumbled in support. The air was crackling on their end - the instinct to defend their territory was kicking in, and both the cats felt like a fight at this point. "Phatha!" "Ah!" The sudden inspired phrase seemed to spring from the she-cats mouth, Petaltail did not know she was capable of such an innocent sound, it surprised her, it broke through the crackling tension. "Gah. what?
"How about a compromise instead of a fight? I leave your wonderful terrain in exchange...get this devil's trap off me! The sneering she-cat motioned to the contraption around her neck, and Petaltail took a step or so forward to inspect it. Elmfrost beat her to it, making a circle around the kittypet. In different circumstances, he would be preparing to attack her. In this one, they were going to help her. How odd, was this alright? Apparently so, since Elmfrost did not seem to have a problem with it. “No idea how those things actually work personally, but, your call Petaltail, any ideas how we can get the thing off?” A little taken aback at the direct request, the she-cat stumbled to get closer to the kittypet, then did the same. She circled her, inspecting the trap from all different angles until finally, she said "It looks too tightly wound to pull it off, maybe if her head were just a bit smaller." She couldn't resist just a little jeer, since the cat was intruding on their territory, after all. "Maybe if we both bite it off, attacking it from the same spot together."
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Post by bobbi on Sept 4, 2011 15:52:57 GMT -5
“Oh come now, she's not that much bigger than me.” Bobbi's eyes narrowed at the male's words. He was much scrawnier, she'd give him that much. The Savannah sat up more proper, admiring her own glossy fur and natural muscle. Bigger? Pfft! He could call himself fat if he so desired. She would stick to lean and tall. The other female still seemed unsure of the situation. Wise. Sometimes fools had the best ideas. Though it mattered not, when the female was as tied and caged as Bobbi was. The ginger cat did nothing when Bobbi showed aggression to her master, only uttering a curt word before being cut off by the male. How crude the slavery was. The dappled-and-tabby cat glanced at the female, interest perked as if the feral cat had uttered a whole sermon instead of one word.
“Have it your way. Your intruding on WindClan territory, leave now before we force you off.” the male gave a chuckle - Bobbi did not care. She was too busy focusing on the female. Her lack of self-respect annoyed Bobbi's gender. His voice continued on; “No, I don't, because house pets as you lot seem to prefer to be called are usually not daft enough to wander up this far. Plus, the lot of you are hardly worthy of us wasting our time on, thus the reason why I was being polite.” The ginger female simply muttered in support. Bobbi's eyes narrowed dangerously as her attention fixed back to the one in charge. WindClan? Oh what a laugh. Who named these things? Was there a Clan of lost little kitties named after the four primitive elements? Fire, Earth, Water and Air? Oh, but it was wind and not air.
"And yet you waste" the female responded, voice laced in acid. He was circling now, wasting no time in her change in mood. When faced with it, these cats were descended from lap-animals, to be picked and poked at by their humans. All they needed was authority. Proper authority, not some wayward code and animal vibe insulting her roots. Spunky as the male was, he would be brought in line by a firm human's hand. The female had less attitude and would suit nicely with any family.
But she did nothing.
“No idea how those things actually work personally, but... Your call Petaltail, any ideas how we can get the thing off?”
Bobbi flicked her gaze toward the female - Petaltail - and once again put up with another dirty cat circling her, examining her. Natives. "It looks too tightly wound to pull it off, maybe if her head were just a bit smaller." Bobbi was rather taken back by the jibe (oh, so she has a voice finally!), though recovered herself. Turning her head to glare at the female, she snapped; "I would not talk of head size, when yours is so small it cannot even fit in the brain the ancestors gave you."
"Maybe if we both bite it off, attacking it from the same spot together." Petaltail continued on.
Sighing, the female added lofty to their imaginative thinking. They were going to break off the collar. No, she could not have that. She wanted the leash off. The collar was a sign of being, of significance. "There is a metal clasp at the beginning of the long leash - oh, branch-like thing, I suppose you want to be primitive. It attaches to the leash.I wish the collar unharmed. It was...a gift." She closed her eyes, remembering when Ian brought her to a "store" and she picked out this collar specifically. He abide her choice and bought it. These cats could ridicule the collar all they wanted, but it was special.
"But feel free to take out your frustrations on the damnable leash. It has no sentimental value" she sneered, digging her claws into the soft earth. Embrace for impact. OOC: so sorry for the wait! sucky post is sucky. tagging: elmfrost, petaltail words: 654 weather: clear, slightly humid, evening translations (Zulu to English), general African words: no words right now. too tired... [/size][/font]
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