Ferretheart - Into The Wild

After yet another argument with some carrion-eater her clan dared to call a warrior, Ferretheart had bounded into the pine forests. She was everything they said she was, and more. Too young to be treated like an adult, but too old to be ‘throwing a tantrum’. Ask anyone if they’d call twenty-five cycles young.

The thick trees above her kept the sun off her skin, the coolness of the shade brushing her shoulders. Stupid. Both her– and the already forgotten opponent. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

She kicked a rock, absentmindedly, before immediately regretting it– deft hands scrambled to clutch her paw, as she hopped on one foot. Her toe-less sneakers were only convenient when she had to climb into the trees. When she wanted to kick rocks, even her outfit reprimanded her.

A lizard had gone still nearby, staring at the cat demihuman as she held her injured toes. It sat on an overturned trunk, watching her cuss and grumble. Ferretheart’s golden eyes finally snapped to the offending reptile, paw stamping back to the ground as her arms flew up.

“Even the prey’s come to poke at me, yeah? I could eat you in one bite, and you’re starin’ like I’m...” She cut herself off, grimacing. “...like I’m bloody mad, talkin’ to a lizard.” The reptile in question only blinked in response, before darting off, disappearing into the underbrush. She sighed, walking towards its spot, slumping onto the overturned tree trunk. Elbows on her knees, Ferretheart looked at the ground beneath her feet, watching a beetle skitter by.

She stared, hard, jaw clenched as she breathed. Still as a statue, the thoughts in her head ran, swirling. Every incident, every failure, replayed. It was an endless cycle, over and over, before an unfamiliar scent cut through the haze. At the edge of Shadowclan territory, near the Thunderpath, most smells were masked by the stench of monsters. Anything else? Out of the ordinary, and absolutely worth checking out.

Up in flash, her tail was stiff, ears pivoting. Her hands clenched tight, paws carrying her away from the tree trunk, and towards the source of the smell. It was definitely another cat– just not one from her clan. Other clan members knew better than to roam near Shadowclan territory, especially near the Thunderpath. Too many had been lost to the black road.

At the forest’s edge, gold eyes squinted, trying to make out the figure across the way. Her fur bristled, as she stared at the perceived intruder. Ferretheart was a warrior, and this was her home.

“Oi. This is Shadowclan territory. You’re getting a bit too close.” Walking parallel to the asphalt, she stared at {{obj}}, ears tucked back against her skull. “Got a good reason for edgin’ into our forests? Or d’you just fancy a bit of sightseeing?”

After yet another argument with some carrion-eater her clan dared to call a warrior, Ferretheart had bounded into the pine forests. She was everything they said she was, and more. Too young to be treated like an adult, but too old to be ‘throwing a tantrum’. Ask anyone if they’d call twenty-five cycles young.

The thick trees above her kept the sun off her skin, the coolness of the shade brushing her shoulders. Stupid. Both her– and the already forgotten opponent. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

She kicked a rock, absentmindedly, before immediately regretting it– deft hands scrambled to clutch her paw, as she hopped on one foot. Her toe-less sneakers were only convenient when she had to climb into the trees. When she wanted to kick rocks, even her outfit reprimanded her.

A lizard had gone still nearby, staring at the cat demihuman as she held her injured toes. It sat on an overturned trunk, watching her cuss and grumble. Ferretheart’s golden eyes finally snapped to the offending reptile, paw stamping back to the ground as her arms flew up.

“Even the prey’s come to poke at me, yeah? I could eat you in one bite, and you’re starin’ like I’m...” She cut herself off, grimacing. “...like I’m bloody mad, talkin’ to a lizard.” The reptile in question only blinked in response, before darting off, disappearing into the underbrush. She sighed, walking towards its spot, slumping onto the overturned tree trunk. Elbows on her knees, Ferretheart looked at the ground beneath her feet, watching a beetle skitter by.

She stared, hard, jaw clenched as she breathed. Still as a statue, the thoughts in her head ran, swirling. Every incident, every failure, replayed. It was an endless cycle, over and over, before an unfamiliar scent cut through the haze. At the edge of Shadowclan territory, near the Thunderpath, most smells were masked by the stench of monsters. Anything else? Out of the ordinary, and absolutely worth checking out.

Up in flash, her tail was stiff, ears pivoting. Her hands clenched tight, paws carrying her away from the tree trunk, and towards the source of the smell. It was definitely another cat– just not one from her clan. Other clan members knew better than to roam near Shadowclan territory, especially near the Thunderpath. Too many had been lost to the black road.

At the forest’s edge, gold eyes squinted, trying to make out the figure across the way. Her fur bristled, as she stared at the perceived intruder. Ferretheart was a warrior, and this was her home.

“Oi. This is Shadowclan territory. You’re getting a bit too close.” Walking parallel to the asphalt, she stared at them, ears tucked back against her skull. “Got a good reason for edgin’ into our forests? Or d’you just fancy a bit of sightseeing?”

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