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 Posted: Mon Jun 16, 2014 6:49 pm
 ThistleClaw was a great warrior once!... or so his stories say. Though he was an Elder now, who didn't like just sitting still and being taken care of as some of the other Elders did. He tried to keep himself busy, always looking for something to do, or someone to teach. He just couldn't help it! Age was creeping in on him and he could feel it in his bones, especially the way his hip hurt him, giving him a slight limp. His fur was clean.. ish... well it could use some upkeep but it wasn't matted, but always looked windswept. He was sitting just inside the entrance to the camp, his eyes seemed to stare off at nothing as he sat and recalled his younger years. The battles he had fought, The rout he use to take when patrolling the border and the thrill of hunting. Now he probably couldn't catch a half dead Vole. The one regret he carries is that he was never a father. He just let time slip him by and was blind to how much it would bother him later. The sun was high and his pelt was warmed by its bright cascade. On occasion his ears would swivel as if some part of him was playing look out, His tail was kept kinda flopped out behind him on the ground.
Though he didn't look it and his eyes were still partly open, he was dozing off. The soft rustle of wind like a gentle lullaby to him, the sun warming his kinda dirty tan pelt.
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Posted: Mon Jun 16, 2014 10:38 pm
 Birchpaw spotted the elder cat near the entrance of the clan territory from across the camp, and part of him wondered what the old cat was thinking. Another part of him wanted to see if he could get the better of him. With a grin, the apprentice crouched into a stalking pose and inched his way nearer. So far his training had been handled by several different warriors, and they all had different teaching styles. Because of this, his crouch wasn't perfect, but at least he was barely making noise as he crept closer.
What he hadn't thought about was the wind was carrying his scent in the direction of the older tom. He probably shouldn't be doing this anyway... As an apprentice it was much more seemly for him to respect his elders. He should probably be asking to sit at his paws, begging for tales of his daring and of his battles. Well, that would all be interesting and maybe if ThistleClaw didn't get angry with him for playing instead, he could ask for those tales...
Right now, the only tail he was interested in was ThistleClaw's. That was his target, and he was...so...close...
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Posted: Tue Jun 17, 2014 1:16 pm
The old tom sat still with nary a movement. The smell did carry the Apprentice's smell but he was almost asleep, though his eyes were still half open. His nose twitched but the wind also carried the scent of others in the camp, going about their daily duties. In his dream he was slinking through enemy territory, escorting a queen and her kittens that had been washed away in a flood. He was tense in this dream, the smell of the Thunderclan was all around. But outside of his lidless sleep, his tail twitched slightly on the tip, becoming ever so alluring.
The breeze ruffling his fur lightly and rolling over the grasslands like waves of green, field dwelling birds twittering here and there in the emerald sea. Though he slept, he never leaned or looked asleep unless one was use to watching him doze. The only indication that he might be sleeping was his breathing, that was a little slower, but that could just mean that he was relaxed in the warm early summer sun that did not glint off his dirty coat.
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Posted: Wed Jun 18, 2014 9:44 pm
Birchpaw grinned to himself, eyes trained on the twitching tail of the elder cat. Just..a little...closer... He shifted on his paws, feeling the power coiling in his strong rear legs as he got ready to pounce. The world seemed to slow until it was just Birchpaw and that tail. He could still smell the camp, but he paid no attention to their movements or chatter.
A moment later, Birchpaw pounced on his target, closing his teeth around Thistleclaw's tail. Not as hard as he would a mouse or vole, but Thistleclaw would know he'd been bitten. Birchpaw was only being playful, though. His mentor let him off for the day and he was bored. What else was there for a young, energetic apprentice to do?
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Posted: Thu Jun 19, 2014 2:02 am
One his tail was pounced and bitten, The old tom let out a croak and turned his head about to see what was going on back there. Seeing this spry young squirt he smirked and turned a bit more. Planting a big old paw on BirchPaw's head with a firm thunk and he griped in an alomost playful tone. It was just hard to tell sometimes " You little Mouse dropping! don't you know to respect your elders AND their tails?" he has a slight smile, and his ears were perked as he spoke. His tail had a slightly musty flavor and left a little dust on the tongue.
"I hope it was tastey! Because I could use a bath from a little smart guy like you!"
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