time on my hands [Storm & 0pen]

[dirge]

^{that mournful} Dirge

Dirge wrinkled his nose, and licked the odd mouse. It had been dead for quite some time now, but Dirge couldn't get over the fact that it smelled of humans, and had red eyes and a white pelt. Just goes to show that Twoleg animals are different than wild ones.,

[/b] he thought, flicking his tail in disgust. He'd found some kittypet playing with the mouse, and chased her away so he could eat it. But he no longer had any desire to eat anything, because a nagging feeling of irritation tugged on his senses. "It's been five days now," he growled, pacing back and forth, "but there's been no decent food, and I know that there is regular prey around here." His eyes tightened in irritation as he looked around at the tall walls that separated him from the Twoleg nest just beyond it. The growls of his stomach were becoming increasingly frequent, and one suddenly shook his body. He rolled his eyes."My hunting skills are beginning to slip. I need more training, and I’d rather starve than beg for food from Twolegs." As he said these words, a grating call sounded from a branch in the trees above him. A crow looked down on the rogue, its beady little eyes examining him. Dirge felt a growl rumble in his throat; he'd never liked crows. It clacked his beak at Dirge, and suddenly swooped down and buffeted him over the head. It snatched up the white mouse and carried it back to the branch. "Hey!," Dirge protested, even though he didn't want it, "that was mine." The bird ignored him and began to eat the mouse, beginning with its eyes. Refusing to let a crow steal from him, Dirge let out a yowl and leapt up, digging his claws into the bark of a branch below the bird.

The bird looked nervously at Dirge, but otherwise did nothing. This enraged Dirge and he hauled himself onto the branch, then pushing with his powerful legs, launched himself toward the crow. The crow flitted upward, just out of Dirge's reach, and landed safely on the branch again. Dirge, however, lost his footing on the other branch below, and fell to the ground, where he hit his head. Cackling, the black bird flew away, leaving a mess of feathers in its wake. Dirge rose slowly to his feet, shaking his pelt in indignation. “Crows,” he spat, “just like Clan cats. Not really bright, and thieves to boot.” The young brown tabby, suddenly uninterested in feeding himself, decided to scale a nearby tree and leapt across the brick wall just below. He landed on all fours just next to a Twoleg’s garden. Strange smells assaulted his nostrils, prompting him to explore the nearby plants. The most unusual plants were the pumpkins, large and orange towering a few good inches over Dirges shoulders. But he was much more interested in a green plant nearby. The leaves had an intriguing shape, and an even more intriguing scent. Dirge recognized it as cat mint – he remembered ThunderClan’s medicine cat mentioning the herb to a warrior once. Purring, the rogue pushed into the plant headfirst, his neck rubbing against the leaves. He flipped to his back and rolled in the cat mint, taking in its odd odor. A sudden shout didn’t even faze him; Dirge slowly blinked open his eyes to see a Twoleg kit staring straight at him.

The pinkish human scooped him up in her arms, letting out an enraptured cry. Dirge did nothing for a moment, c.ocking his head at the Twoleg in curiosity. “ You’re an ugly thing, aren’t you?” The Twoleg smiled and brought her hand to his head to pet it. The brown tabby tom smirked mischievously and bit it hard, then loosened his body to slip from her grip. Dirge laughed at her cries, slipping under a nearby fence. The ordeal had made him feel better about his stolen mouse. He looked around at the lawn he was now standing on. There was a strange sizzling sound coming from a red bubble perched up on three silver legs, and next to it was a dog on a chain, which was very much asleep. Dirge decided not to risk it, and climbed the fence next to him, and landed on much rougher ground than before. The ground was gray and rough, much like the Thunderpath as the Clans had called it. There were no monsters in sight, and a mostly open forest just across it besides one little wooden fishing supply store. Dirge crossed the road quickly, twitching his tail in amusement. “Twoleg’s are definitely my style. They know how to be exciting.”[/blockquote][/size]

[storm12]

A silver tabby made his way through the bushes along the bottom of the two leg fence. The bushes branches rubbed against his fur, making him slightly uncomfortable. Does anything go right? he thought to himself sadly. But the tom kept on, having no clue where he was really heading, only knowing to stay out of the clans territory.

Soon, the silver tom came across a place with the scent of a cat. Smells like a rouge he listlessly thought, thinking to what Rouges smell like. Storm tried to place the scent to a certain cat, but couldn't remember ever scenting it before. Must be a new cat, or I've never met him before. he told himself. But he wanted to know the cat now. The cat has to be around here somewhere... his thoughts trailed.

Looking up, Storm noticed a crow with a white mouse. The crow watched him, as if it were wary of him. But Storm continued on. Soon enough, the same cat scent hit him. Where is it coming from? he asked himself. Storm looked up at the brick wall, and realized the scent went over it. Hearing the cries of a two leg distracted him though. His ears laid slightly closer to his head. He wasn't used to that kind of noise, he was used to the quiet of being alone.

Next thing Storm knew, a cat jumped from a fence a little farther down from him. Storm looked at him questioningly, confused as to who he was. But then the cats scent made its way to him, and he realized it was the same cat he had scented before. Storm wasn't about to let the only cats he'd seen in days go without talking to him, so he got up and walked towards the cat. As he grew closer, he realized he didn't know what to say. Storm didn't talk to very many cats now a days. I'll figure something out. he told himself. Now he was just a few tail lengths away from the tom. "Uhh.." he started. "Hello there."

[dirge]

^{that mournful} Dirge

[OOC: Hope you don't mind; I'm changed it to open as well. Sorry for the late reply!]

Letting his guard down wasn't exactly routine for Dirge, but today he'd made an odd habit out of it. Just as he'd safely crossed the road, he continued to pad into the forest beyond. He didn't even bother to check the scents of the area; he figured he knew his surroundings well enough that he could throw his caution to the wind. "There's nothing around here even remotely dangerous," he remarked to himself when suddenly the scent of a seasoned loner caught in his nostrils. Still twitchy from the cat mint, Dirge whipped around to face the loner, his senses completely over alert. Almost before the silver tabby could even manage a shy 'Hello there,' Dirge hissed at the tom, "Why are you following me?!" His amber eyes were wide and bright with fear. Quickly realizing that he'd overreacted, Dirge immediately became cool and collected once more. He sat down and brought his paw to his mouth and swept back a few tufts of his fur nonchalantly, occasionally looking up at the tabby tom.

"Not that there's a problem with that. I'm merely enthusiastically curious, that's all." Dirge's voice was smooth as butter, but his tail still jerked sporadically to the left as he spoke. Remember to avoid the cat mint next time, he reminded himself, forcing his tail to stay still. "I'm sorry for that little outburst, I must have turned your fur even more silver than it already is. My name is Dirge." Dirge couldn’t exactly determine the age of the loner; he was relatively good at predicting factors like age but he was still young and had a lot to learn about scents. It also didn’t help that his senses were being inhibited by the effects of cat mint. It was a normal occurrence for Dirge to talk to strangers like this; he found their stories, if they were willing to tell them, very dull. But he loved to pretend to care, because he found cats emotions fascinating. Dirge had always wondered what it might be like to feel regret or sorrow or joy. He was only familiar with anger and indifference. The closest he’d ever been to feeling sad was the longing he felt he thought about being free from his brother’s hatred and ThunderClan’s restrictions. Now that he was, everything about the world was much lighter. It was a place for him to explore, to seek thrills out and indulge in them.

He wondered what kind of fun he could get out of talking to this loner. Something about him to Dirge seemed lonely, but he couldn’t tell for sure. Now that the rush of the cat mint was starting to fade away, Dirge finally felt like his normal self once again. Which was a good thing, but he did miss how edgy the cat mint’s effects had made him feel. It had been something different, something new. Maybe I can convince this tom to try it with me next time. That could be interesting.