and WHO might you be? \\ closed

[! S C O R N]

Her father had once told her, Sometimes in life, you end up falling for the right person for all the wrong reasons. Of course, you can always fall for the wrong person for all the right reasons. But either way it goes, you just have to make the best of it. And where had that logic gotten him? Probably dead somewhere. Of course, Scorn was slightly more optimistic about love, and life in general. She was a romantic, who loved to wander and loved to dream. And that was what she loved about Wildtalon. He kept her grounded.

The barn sat snugly on the horizon, shrouded in heaping piles of snow and the cool winter morning sunlight. It sparkled on the ground and reflected in her slanted eyes, narrowed against the wind, as she made her way towards its sheltered doors. When the going got tough, she went to the barn. There was always a friendly face and a nice meal, and then a warm place to stay. It was safe and it was home.

The scent of mice accosted her nose as she slipped through the creaking doors, dappled pelt shrouded in snowflakes that quickly melted in the warmth, slipping away as quickly as they had fallen. She prided herself on her pelt - it was beautiful, just like her. And even though she knew it, she wasn't one to show off. So into the shadows she went, determined to fill her rumbling stomach with something substantial.

Several mice later and Scorn found herself perched on the rafter where she and Wildtalon had met again for the first time since being separated for a while. She had gone to see the world, to wander, as wanderers do, and he had waited patiently for her. Who said love was difficult? For them it was as natural as breathing, as seeing, as living. Her mouth curved into a gentle smile as she gazed into the distance, reliving the precious moments they spent together. "Nobody's perfect. But you and me together? We're the exception." She was so preoccupied that she didn't even notice she had company.

TAGS! timber
WORDS! 378
OTHER! nope

[timberrr !]

"Oh, ratdung on a branch!" The tom hissed furiously, slamming his paw and unsheathed claws against the cold ground. He watched the tail of the mouse as it scurried off away from his claws and angry grumbling. Of course, Timber chased after, heavy on the mouse like a badger on a cat's shoulders. He leaped forward once again, paws cupping the small creature and as he leaned down to give a finishing bite, the critter made its great escape from his less than tight grip and lunged into the partially open doors of the barn.

Timber had shouted worse things in his life, however this time, he was absolutely fed up. How was it that these mice were just so hard to catch? Their fur was slipper than eels and if any cats around were watching, he was sure they were laughing at his antics. He was positive the meals back home didn't fight like the ones here. The tom's tail whipped back and forth as he finally shut his yap, staring inside the barn doors curiously. He'd been past here more than a few times, but the strong scent of other cats had caused him to drift in the opposite direction. He wouldn't want to upset any of those... wild cats he'd heard about. And he sure didn't want to meet any of them either. The last thing he needed was a bunch of hooligans chasing him down and barking loud as those dogs at the filthy Nofur place.

However this time, he poked his head between the barn doors, brown paws leading him forward over the hay covered ground. The snow clinging to pelt disappeared with the warmth that followed after his entry and the strong scent of mice filled his senses. Even if he didn't catch anything, he could at least get a bit of practice in.

A voice caught him off-guard just as he stooped to a crouch, and the brown furred tom looked upwards, trying to spot the cat. From the sounds of it, it was a she-cat and he whipped around cautiously. He had to make sure this wasn't some ambush. Blue eyes flickered upwards and caught sight of the dappled cat, balanced along one of the wooden beams. She seemed to be caught up in her own ramblings.

"Y-You up there!" Timber called, his paws working to get him closer towards her. "You should be lucky I wasn't one of those, er, stupid bears-" He cut himself off. Bears? No, they didn't have those around here - much too big and stupid for these parts. "Those enemy cats and foxes and badgers!" The loner lost his footing momentarily as his hind legs slipped from under him, leaving him hanging as he pulled himself upwards to flop down at her side. "Oh my," Timber added, trying to cover his own slip with a bit of humor and a not very believable chuckle.

His eyes widened and he scooted away from her, whiskers pulling tight to his muzzle. "Say uh, don't hurt me..." Timber tried not to squeak, but his voice seemingly had a mind of its own.

words, 523
notes, <3
534741

[! S C O R N]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=width,350,true][atrb=background,http://i523.photobucket.com/albums/w351/glenfeather/Scornback.jpg] I am who I am. And sweetie, your approval isn't needed. No matter how much you think it is.

[/b]

Ears swiveled towards the newcomer and his strange ramblings. Scorn shifted her weight and eyed the tom as he scrambled up to meet her, his blue eyes widening in shock as he lost his grip and nearly tumbled from the rafter. Scorn watched in amusement.

"Y - you up there! You should be lucky I wasn't one of those, er, stupid bears -" He wheezed, out of breath from the struggle. Scorn blinked in confusion. There were no bears in these parts? The tom seemed to realize his mistake, and quickly corrected himself. "Those enemy cats and foxes and badgers!" Oh. That was better.

"Well should you have been an enemy cat or a fox or a badger, I would have - " the pretty she-cat began, but suddenly the tom's head vanished and his claws scratched against the dry wooden beam as he tried to haul himself back up onto the safe perch. "Oh my." he huffed, hauling his cream and chocolate body up beside her, straightening to cover his slip and coughing slightly. Scorn raised an eyebrow.

Suddenly, the to seemed to shrink away from her, his eyes widening once more as he scanned her clever face. "Say, uh, don't hurt me . . . " his voice emerged as an alarmed squeak. Scorn tried to hold her composure, but it was certainly challenging. Who was this tom? Had he never been to the barn before?

"I won't eat you." Scorn meowed, smiling to reveal all of her perfectly sharp ivory teeth. "Promise." Oh how fun it was to tease him. He was sweet, in a bumbling, innocent kind of way. And nice to have around.

"Are you new here? You seem lost."

[Oh my god I love him.]

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[timberrr !]

Now that was embarrassing. Timber was right amazed that she hadn't laughed at his terrible balance and the effort it had taken to simply join her among the rafters. His eyes had remained glued to her spotted face, challenging almost, if not for the awkward twitching of his whiskers. His shoulders bunched defensively and his tail coiled closer to him. He knew it. She was one of those mighty wild cats. Baited him in with her delicate features and...

"I won't eat you. Promise."

He sighed his relief, instantly relaxing with an exaggerated breath of air. "Thank the stars!" Timber mewed, all the while noticing her toothy grin. "I've heard of those fox-dunged cats out those that'd lure you in with tempting scents and small talk before leapin' at ya and stealing the fur from your tail." The frustrated hiss was evident in his voice and his eyes narrowed slightly. "You scared me good there. But let anyone show their face with claws unsheathed and I'll-"

He broke himself off respectfully in order to let the cat talk. Are you new here? You seem lost. Boy, was that an understatement.

A quick nod confirmed her question. "Do I really seem lost? And to think I was blending in with the natives." It was all in good humor and he gave a snorted laugh at his own little joke. But honestly, the she-cat was making him nervous. He hadn't been this close to another cat in what felt like moons. "Would you believe me if I told you that my home is out past the stars and beyond the moon?" A chocolate colored paw lifted for emphasis and it brushed lightly along their wooden perch. All the while, he stumbled for balance again, hoping she wouldn't notice. "Where there's nothing but trees and high grasses where the fireflies dance at night and the rivers run full with prey?"

Not all year, from what he could remember, but what he was saying was a pretty accurate description.

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[! S C O R N]

The battle went out of the chocolate and cream tom as he took in her words, exhaling a gust of air that nearly blew her off balance. A chuckle escaping her curled lips, Scorn snuck a sideways glance at her new friend. He was peculiar, that was for sure. Such a charismatic and bumbling tom - he couldn't be from around those parts, where enemies ripped one another to pieces and friends had to stick together to stay alive. It was a harsh world, and somehow she couldn't see him handling it very well.

At least he wasn't ignorant. Listening to him rant and rave about the wild, ferocious cannibalistic cats that occupied the surrounding areas, Scorn let her mind wander a bit. It drifted out of the sun painted window, a gaping hole in the peeling wooden wall, past the sun blazing in the sky, and off to wherever her mate was strolling along, letting the warm air ruffle his soft, sweet smelling fur, or perhaps powering on through a gusty rainstorm, his electric blue eyes piercing through the rain to see straight through her soul and -

"Would you believe me if I told you that my home is out past the stars and beyond the moon?" She crashed back to reality, the moment lost, but a new surprise found right in front of her. Was he storytelling? Was he spinning a beautiful and unrealistic web of fantasies to catch her and break her heart all at once? A natural born dreamer, Scorn traveled to find such places, where happiness grew on trees and the sun always warmed your pelt. Her new companion winked with a twinkle in his eyes. "Where there's nothing but trees and high grasses where the fireflies dance at night and the rivers run full with prey?" Stop it. Her mind muttered crossly, folding its arms and turning away with a huff. But her heart - her treacherous, dreaming, daring heart - shuffled closer, bashfully blushing and silently begging for more.

And her clever, sharp tongue never failed to retaliate. "I'd say you'd gone mad. Perhaps you hit your head once too many times, falling off of rafters." The pretty calico got to her feet, a smile alighting on her triangular face as she danced towards the edge of the beam, daring him to jump with her. It wouldn't hurt. It never did. Cats always landed on their feet, And besides, the lofty hay beneath their paws would catch them.

She raised an eyebrow at the tom, her voice charming as always. "What says the wandering traveler of my dreams? Do we dare jump?"


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