Ten Reasons Why I Hate Leafbare | Tag: Crewe, open

[Lo]

DUSKFIRE

The tricoloured she-cat dropped into a crouch, her body low to the ground as she stalked towards her prey. She hated hunting – fishing was so much more preferable than this. But it was leafbare and the river was frozen over. She really didn't feel much like sticking her paws into ice water. No, not today. She'd have to put up with the snow. She didn't like it, but she certainly preferred having feeling in her paws. Yes, she'd have to put up with the fact that if she didn't roll in snow before she hunted, then she have no camouflage at all. Ugh, how she hated it.

She was a true Riverclanner, so having a wet pelt didn't phase her. The problem was that snow was not water. If it stuck to her pelt while she was hunting, that was fine, it was better for hunting. The thing she hated was that it melted, and so she had to keep rolling in snow to keep up the camouflage. And not only that, but when it melted, it was cold, so cold. So the more camouflage she used, the more ice-water that melted and ran through her pelt, and the colder she got.

Ugh, she hated leafbare.

OOC: I hope this is an okay starter, Crewe. (:
All Shadowclanners and Riverclanners welcome.

[crewe]

Frostheart did not want to be there. It was bad enough hunting in ShadowClan territory in the middle of leafbare. It was worse not finding any prey there to feed the Clan. But in her mind, it was even worse having to leave her home territory to hunt, and worse yet that that land belonged to another Clan. Brokenstar may have managed to get Crookedstar to give them hunting rights before the old codger up and died, but Frostheart firmly believed that ShadowClan didn't need a bunch of oily river paddlers helping them out. They could stand on their own!

... Well, except when they couldn't, which was why she'd eventually been forced to leave the familiar marshes for the meadows of RiverClan. It had been a hard leafbare, and there was simply no food to be found in her home territory. RiverClan cats were always fat, so there must be some prey running around there. Heaving a sigh, the white warrior picks her way through the snow. It was deeper here; in the marshes, a lot of it turned to slush, which was a horror to get out of your fur, but didn't pile up like true snow. Well, at least it offered some camouflage.

Well, if she was going to hunt here, she should hunt and get it over with quickly, so she could get home as soon as possible. Falling into a crouch, Frostheart raises her muzzle to sniff at the cold air. It dulled her senses, as always, but she was getting better at moving past that; this year had been bad enough that she'd had to. With her thick fur fluffed up against the cold wind, Frostheart creeps forward, growling in frustration as every step crunches through the top layer of the snow. Some cats were lucky enough to be small and light enough to move over the top, but not so for her; she'd been born big, and stayed that way.

An unwelcome scent makes her nose twitch. RiverClan. Great. Just great. Now she'd have to deal with some upstart apprentice or bothersome warrior. And they didn't seem to like her hunting here anymore than Frostheart did herself. She'd never question Brokenstar, of course, but this alliance would certainly not have been her own idea.

[Lo]

DUSKFIRE

The she-cat flattened her ears against her head as a cold winter breeze picked up, before suddenly shifting and sending a blast of icy snow straight into her face. Lowering her head and closing her eyes, she tried to avoid the brunt of the blast. But along with the horrid freezing feeling that the breeze brought, her nose caught the scent of something that she certainly wasn't used to.

Just her luck.

The vile stench of Shadowclan suddenly overwhelming her scent glands, she twitched her ears, trying to shake the snowflakes from it and pinpoint the location of the intruder. Opening her eyes, she blinked and found that her prey had fled when the breeze had sent that icy blast into her face. Perhaps it was the putrid stench of the nearby Shadowclanner that had frightened off her prey. It was sickening; how could they possibly stand to smell like that? Did the stench that clung to their pelts not drive them from one another? Perhaps that was Shadowclan's problem: they stunk too much and couldn't stand to be near one another.

Although how their clan had so many kits suggested that her theory was ridiculous.

Standing up, the young warrior shook the snow from her ebony-and-fire pelt. No need to let herself freeze to death while there was a Shadowclanner there to frighten off all the prey. Her ears flattened against her head, the she-cat felt the fur on her shoulders rising with her temper.

Crookedstar, may Starclan light his path, was a weak mouse-brain. Clans did not align themselves with other clans. It just wasn't done. It was every clan for themselves, not allowing another clan to hunt in your territory while your own clan's kits starved to death. Weak minded and weak willed, obviously. If she were clan leader, she never would have allowed another clan to hunt in her clan's territory. Crookedstar had sacrificed their clan's sovereign territory and compromised their security. One didn't let a rival clan get familiar with their own territory for future attacks. No, it was every clan for itself.

And yet, here she was, face to face with a Shadowclanner who had as much permission to be there as she did.

[crewe]

Frostheart sits up as she spots the source of the disgusting smell; how did RiverClan manage to smell like fish even when the river was frozen over? How could they stand it? Their whole camp must stink to StarClan during greenleaf. Or any time at all, really, but especially when it gets hot. I wonder what it smells like now, she thinks dryly, puffing her fur out. It was cold. ShadowClan didn't have much cover to block the wind either, but just the feeling of exposure that comes with being outside home territory made her feel colder.

Clearly, Frostheart had not gone unnoticed by the RiverClan warrior. She twitches her nose as she notices her hackles rising. Great. Now a confrontation was inevitable. Couldn't the stupid river paddler have just gone away and ignored her? They could have both found prey and gone home to their own Clans to feed them. But no, there just had to be a confrontation. Now how was she going to handle this? Frostheart sure didn't want to be here, little more than the RiverClan warrior wanted her here. But she couldn't let on that she disagreed with Brokenstar; no, ShadowClan had to appear strong and united.

I'm going to end up sounding like a bothersome prick, she thinks distastefully. ShadowCan was better than RiverClan, of course. But that was obvious, what was the point in making sure every cat she met knew that? They should be able to figure it out on their own. Living off the prey of another Clan's territory was certainly not doing anything to perpetuate that image. But if this cat was going to stir something up, Frostheart was not going to let her get away with telling a ShadowClan warrior off, regardless of how she ended up sounding.

Frostheart digs her claws into the snow as the smaller she-cat comes closer. She looked vaguely familiar, as many warriors from other Clans did; they had perhaps met at a Gathering, or glimpsed on a hunting patrol. She didn't know her name; Frostheart had no time for learning the names of rival warriors, even if those rivals were technically allied with her Clan. There are no true alliances. Clans do not stand together! RiverClan is just afraid of Brokenstar. Which, admittedly, was a fair thing to be afraid of; while Frostheart would always stand behind her leader, he was an intimidating tom.

Frostheart nods slightly to the RiverClan warrior. "Greetings," she says stiffly, her tail moving incessantly back and forth, nearly invisible against the snow. That was probably the only good thing about leafbare, or at least the only thing she liked, snow. Her white pelt was finally an advantage, in hunting or sneaking up unnoticed on some cat. With little to say to a RiverClan warrior, Frostheart waits for her to respond, hopefully with stiff politeness so they could go their separate ways.

[Lo]

DUSKFIRE

The Riverclanner could not help the look of distaste that graced her black-and-ginger maw when the Shadowclanner decided to strike up a conversation. This was just what Duskfire had hoped for - not! She could not stand the stench nor the sight of the vile Shadowclanners who had taken food from the mouths of kits and killed two of her littermates. She could never forget. And for that, she could never forgive.

The she-cat narrowed her yellow-green eyes and forced down the bile that was rising in her throat and forced herself to be pleasant. She might have been able to respect Crookedstar's attempt to be kind towards the other clan, which was clearly incapable of taking care of itself, had two of her siblings not been lost to their greed. Crookedstar had not revoked his promise to the vile Shadowclanners when his clan's kits were near-starving, dying of hunger and greencough. No, that was one sin that she she-cat could never absolve her clan's former leader.

“Greetings.” Duskfire responded, her voice as cool as the snow under their paws.

Duskfire wasn't going to be the first to back down. She would hunt in her own territory wherever she pleased, and she would not let a stinky Shadowclanner, no matter how much larger than herself, intimidate her and drive her away from her own clan's territory. No, that was simply unacceptable. If it was what the interloper wanted, she'd give her a fight. And she wouldn't let the Shadowclanner win, either.

After all, the bigger they came, the harder they fell.

Duskfire was small, yes, but she was agile and she had trained hard to accommodate the fact that the majority of her opponents were larger than she was. And if the Shadowclanner wanted a fight, Duskfire could bring it. And she wouldn't let the Shadowclanner get away without a few wounds to remember her by. But that was only if the Shadowclanner wanted to fight. As much as Duskfire would have liked to drive the greedy dung-breath out of her clan's territory, that mouse-brained alliance would mean that she would end up in hot water for her actions.

She kept her eyes fixed on the warrior's face, not wanting to give the other she-cat any reason to attack by searching for viable points of attack if she were to need to defend herself.

[crewe]

Frostheart twitches her whiskers in acknowledgement of the RiverClan warrior's return greeting, the movement barely visible against her white fur. The hostility in the bright eyes of the other she-cat was obvious. Frostheart idly wondered if there were any RiverClan cats that were not hostile towards her and her Clan, and doubted it. This alliance was a bad idea. A terrible idea. Brokenstar, why did you do this to us? she thinks. Immediately, she admonishes herself for it; Brokenstar had allied ShadowClan with RiverClan so that ShadowClan would not starve. As little as Frostheart liked to admit it, there simply wasn't enough food in their home territory to feed the entire Clan. She could hunt all day, and at the end she would end up in the same place: face to face with a hostile RiverClan warrior in their home territory.

The RiverClan she-cat was not backing off. Why wouldn't she just go away? Was she so set on a fight that she wouldn't leave until one or the other attacked? Frostheart would like nothing more than to show an ugly river paddler just what marsh cats could do, but the alliance was strained as it was; a fight between two hunters could be the last straw to cause Leopardstar to break the alliance and close off RiverClan hunting grounds to ShadowClan warriors.

At least then we could all be open about how much we hate each other, the white warrior thinks ruefully. But that was selfish thinking; ShadowClan needed this prey. Frostheart would not be the warrior to ruin this for her Clan. She was already unsure of Brokenstar's favor due to her heritage, much as she would prefer to forget it, especially being at war with ThunderClan. She did not want to make him angry by attacking some RiverClan scum.

Instead, she meets the eyes of the calico she-cat, her own bright green gaze boring into the smaller cat's. She would give this "ally" of hers no reason to attack. If the RiverClan warrior attacked anyway... well. She wasn't sure what she should do. ShadowClan's honor must be preserved... but so must the lives of her Clanmates.

Maybe it wouldn't come to that.

"How does RiverClan fare?" Frostheart says, forcing herself to be polite. Perhaps, if she failed to amuse this cat, she would just go away. I just want to hunt, and go home, she thinks, annoyed that this encounter had lasted so long already. Wouldn't a brief nod or careful avoidance have sufficed?

[Lo]

DUSKFIRE

The heavyset white she-cat seemed to be an uncomfortable in Riverclan territory as Duskfire was seeing here there. That thought was reassuring for Duskfire. Perhaps the Shadowclaners was as against the breach of the warrior code as the Riverclanners were. But it had been arranged between leaders, not warriors and so those who disliked it had no control over putting an end to it.

Not that Duskfire would ever actually accept that she might have something in common with a smelly Shadowclanner.

The white she-cat met her gaze, seeming almost as reluctant as Duskfire to start conflict between them. And instead, she inquired after Riverclan. Duskfire felt bile rising in her throat at those words, but she forced it down. She couldn't well say 'Riverclan's kits are starving, thanks to Shadowclan' like she might have to a clanmate. Nor could she call the other she-cat a toad-eater.

“Riverclan is faring well.” Duskfire said coolly. She supposed she had to ask how the other clan was faring, even though it was obvious that they were not faring well if they had to hunt in Riverclan territory to stop from starving. But she supposed that she had to be polite. “And Shadowclan?”