[[//flying]] savannahsky ((open))

[dawn]

Savannahsky --
my boy builds coffins with hammers and nails
he doesn't build ships, he has no use for sails
he's made one for himself, one for me too;
one of these days he'll make one for you



It was still cold out, but the sun was enthusiastic in the clear gray sky. Or at least, so it felt; the calico she-cat was draped across a thick branch, her head partially hidden by another branch, her body soaking up some of the falling rays, orange patches glowing quite cheerfully. She was a cautious cat, watchful at the least, dozing off and on as she lay here somewhat unprotected. But this was her own land, her home, Tempestclan; she felt more safe here than in other places, so close to the hollow of her den, and the only thing that let others know she was not completely unaware was the gentle flicking of her tail, twitching irritably back at forth. This was Savannahsky; a young warrior of her clan, just twenty moons old; but proud all the same, of her standing. She was not lazy, stretched out here; she had, actually, been out for a hunt around an hour earlier, toward the shoreline border. Her paws were still faintly damp from dipping into ground that was muddy even at this time, and in some parts ice had cracked open. She had been lucky enough to find a frog hidden in here, in some kind of comatose state, it's eyes open and unblinking. Thinking it dead, she had carried it out, still tasting its marshy, wet stench in her mouth. Studying it in the light, Savannahsky realized it was truly alive, perhaps thawing from the cold leafbare. Its heartbeat was quiet in her ears as she leaned close, and then cleanly put an end to such. It was not her proudest kill, certainly, but any prey she could bring back was good prey, and she didn't let it bother her.

From there she had headed back to the mainland, into the fen, keeping a close watch for snakes or other such predators. After searching for a while, her paws wetter from the adventure, she came away with only a thin watervole and an irritation of her temper. Thus, tail lashing, she carried the frog and vole back to camp, leaving them on what was their fresh kill pile, and had climbed into the branches of the ancient tree that served as their camp for a nap. Now she was dreaming, here and there, that the frog had been reanimated by her drawing it into the light, and had begun to hop about, leaping sometimes so high she thought it had wings. She followed it with her green gaze, then began to leap after it, finding that her paws could lift her body, built in the traditional Tempestclan way, with strong legs and paws, into the sky after it. Then a mottled gray tom was telling her to spend her time doing more important things, such as hunting for her clan, his biting tone asking that she show a little loyalty. And while Savannahsky was indeed quite loyal, would do anything for her clan, she ignored him, claws outstretched after the frog, paws daring to go farther than any other cat had wanted them to, as though they had a mind of their own, and were intent on taking flight with her body in tow.

[Dusk]

A day like this was not exactly the best day to be out and about. The land was treacherous with it's mixture ice and mud. One was forced to be careful and watch wear they stepped. A single paw placed on what appeared to be solid ground soon became the upper half of your body sunken into semi-hardened mud.

So one warrior had been reminded the hard way. The usually bright white fur on his torso was browned with muck and debris from one of the bogs by the shore. It was prime hunting ground even now as the land was working to revive itself from the previous winter, so it had seemed easier for the tom to try and maneuver around the bogs than try somewhere else for hunting.

Hunting had been a success, and the brown-patched cat had been returning when the ground had chosen to weaken beneath his paws. He'd been lucky to get out, although it had cost him his prey; not to mention a fair bit of dignity. And so, fouled and freezing he returned to the camp with nothing to show.

He was considering whether it would be easier to find a stream to wash off the worst of the grime or simply deal with the bitter taste of mud and groom himself normally when he spotted a familiar calico she-cat lounging in the trees. Cougarleap's eyes narrowed to green slits, just his luck that she was in a prime position to spot him walking into camp. Well nothing to do now but walk with a much dignity as possible and ignore the jibes that were sure to come.

[dawn]

Savannahsky --
my boy builds coffins with hammers and nails
he doesn't build ships, he has no use for sails
he's made one for himself, one for me too;
one of these days he'll make one for you


A breeze whispered quietly across camp, dancing through the branches of the massive tree. It brushed across her fur, briefly warmed by the frail sunlight, and sent a cool sensation scattering across her skin. Besides bringing a hint of cold, a nip rather than the bite of frost, this breeze carried the scent on it of her friend Cougarleap. Her pink nose twitched faintly, though more for effect than by its own natural inclination.

One green light opened slowly, peeking out at the world from a sleep that was light and aptly called a 'cat nap.' She watched Cougarleap for a while, taking in his mud soaked fur, which must have been icy at such a time of year. Tolerable, even pleasurable, in Greenleaf, but now? Frigid, definitely. She could imagine it on her own fur, plastering itself against the orange, white, and black of her calico pelt. Yuck! Her whiskers twitched, a gleam in her lights, focused on him. Savannahsky was like that; rather than show concern for his warmth, she was amused by his predicament, though no doubt she wouldn't spread it about camp, gossiping to those who hadn't seen what a mess he was. She wasn't that sort of cat; this was her own private joke, and it needn't be shared for her to see how funny it was.

She crouched, stretching out coiled muscles, and then leaped down from the branch. Crossing the clearing leisurely, she yawned, baring her fangs at him, enjoying the feeling of a light doze on her fur. Approaching him, Savannahsky flicked an ear, and grinned. The warmth of humor had an effect on the stocky calico's face, and it wasn't cruel or harsh, but was entirely pleasant. "What, did the mud monster getcha, Cougarleap?" She leaned forward, as though eager to hear this story, as though picturing the fight between such a creature and the tom.

[Dusk]

So much for avoiding being seen. Of course being caught slinking by was inevitable, but some small part of the mud spattered tom had still held out the hope the he'd avoid notice. At least, he consoled his damaged ego, it was only Savannahsky. The calico she-cat wasn't really spiteful or happy to embarrass publicly as other cats in the camp. He assured himself that the grin was filled with nothing but good-natured humor and looked down at his stained fur.

"Ahaha, yeah...," came his slightly sullen reply. He raised a forepaw, claws unsheathed, and scratched slightly at the dried muck. His fur had spiked beneath the grime as it hardened, and failed to smooth down as mud flaked away. He frowned at the stubborn fur and returned his focus to the she-cat warrior. "Came out of nowhere, it did-by the shoreline. And snatched up m'prey to boot. The tom growled in frustration, clawing up the unfortunate, half-dead grass beneath his paws.

If only it really had been some sort of monster of mud. The situation would have been so much less annoying. Cougarleap shook his head and snorted. "Well, what about you? he demanded, determined to turn the conversation away from his mishap with the bogs. "What sort of productive things have you done this 'fine' day?"

[dawn]

Savannahsky --
my boy builds coffins with hammers and nails
he doesn't build ships, he has no use for sails
he's made one for himself, one for me too;
one of these days he'll make one for you

Savannahsky cocked her head to the side, studying the mud attached to Cougarleap's sides and back. The thought of its claws clinging to underbelly was an intensely dissatisfying one, and a position she wouldn't want to be in. She struggled to think of a solution to his problem, being good natured enough to do so.

She imagined this scene as he described it, chuckling at the thought. Cougarleap looked muddied enough now to be a mud monster himself, but she kept the comment tucked away. She twitched her whiskers. "Just wait for it to dry, then rub up against some bark. It should crumble off." Savannahsky mewed, and then gave a mrrow of laughter at his harsh changing of the subject, thrown over to her.

"It is a fine day, actually. I caught a frog and a water vole. Prey is thin, though; I looked for a long time and didn't come up with much." She added on the last part to make him feel slightly better at losing his own prey. Besides, the frog had been half frozen as it was, and it had only been luck that brought her to it. It hadn't been hard to kill it, while it was unmoving.

[Dusk]

The tom cast one last, irked glance at the mud clinging to his fur like a stubborn tick; baring his teeth in a silent snarl. He had to admit, the she-cat's suggestion was a good one. Using bark hadn't crossed his mind; it was preferable to sitting in a stream with your tail freezing off. "Hmm, thanks for the suggestion," he muttered, somewhat grudgingly. The fact that he hadn't thought of the idea himself rubbed the wrong way, but he wasn't about to spitefully turn down useful advice. Cougarleap was prideful, not stupid. At least not...too stupid.

Besides, he had slight consolation by the fact that Savannahsky had not run into much better success than him. There was almost nothing worse than returning to camp with no prey, except for returning with no prey and then immediately talking to someone who'd caught a surplus. Most certainly there was nothing worse than that. He could hear his growly, over-achiever mentor now; lecturing the brown and white tom on what a failure he was for not returning with prey, and demanding that he go out again and catch double what he had planned to return with to make up for the loss.

He turned a bright green gaze up to the slowly budding trees, and shrugged. "I suppose the weather could be worse," was his 'I only-half-care' reply. In fact, the day could have been much worse. For example: he could have drowned in the bog instead of escaping; he had escaped, though. Therefore he had reason to moan about the fact that he'd fallen in in the first place. "Hopefully the weather will warm up soon and bring out some better eating." The tom took a moment to stretch, sinking long claws deep in the ground as if he would topple over without their support. "Well, just lazing about for a little while are we?" There was no accusation in his tone, just half-interested conversation making. He would have done the same thing with the chance at a little sun.

[dawn]

Savannahsky --
my boy builds coffins with hammers and nails
he doesn't build ships, he has no use for sails
he's made one for himself, one for me too;
one of these days he'll make one for you


Savannahsky smirked, her tail twitching. She was faintly irritated by his attitude, but knew it couldn't be helped. At least he had tried. "Yeah, you sound really grateful!" The large calico meowed, her green eyes glinting with sarcasm. Still, her making her two catches seem like no big deal seemed to console him a bit, and she allowed the tense fur at her neck to relax. Savannahsky was pretty laid back as it was, didn't care much for fighting, but she would swing a paw down if need be. Still, Cougarleap was a good fifteen moons older than herself, and she didn't tend to be too harsh to those older or in the same age range. Now, if an apprentice was following her around, bothering her and nagging at her, it would be completely different.

At the shining down sun a half drowsy part of the dream drifted back to the surface, the frog hopping into the air with a power her paws didn't know. "Probably it will," she meowed agreeably, following his gaze as she shook the dream from her mind. She flicked an ear at his words, but they weren't annoyed, so she replied, "Yes, enjoying the bit of sunlight we've got. I figured I'd go out a while later, and see if there's anything else about."

[Dusk]

The tom let out a thoughtful "Hmm" and tore his gaze away from the heavens above. He leaned back on his haunches, curling a tail neatly around mud splattered forepaws. He gave a slight grin, revealing bright white canines that stood out sharply against the stained fur of a typically white muzzle. "Grace isn't my forte," he growled good-naturedly. "You should know that. His infamy as a self-centered moron had been known among the clan since he'd been an apprentice. Perhaps the only ones in the clan who didn't learn about his personality were kits.

The wolfish grin faded from his maw as the younger she-cat mentioned a return to hunting later. He gave a quiet snort before speaking. "I'd avoid the shoreline if I were you," he adviced. "That's where the bog monster attacked," his whiskers twitched slightly at the thought of the bogs. He didn't like the thought of losing a cat to them.

ooc/
Want to be wrapping this up? 'Tis going nowhere sadly.

[dawn]

Savannahsky --
my boy builds coffins with hammers and nails
he doesn't build ships, he has no use for sails
he's made one for himself, one for me too;
one of these days he'll make one for you


Savannahsky nodded. "I'll be sure to keep away. I wouldn't want it to be getting me." Returning a sly smile, she turned and flicked her tail to him by way of farewell. "I think I'll be getting to that now, before I get drowsy again." With that the bulky calico moved off into the forest, really only meandering with little purpose, since there wouldn't be much prey.

ooc: I guess if that's what you wanted. :/ We could've made something happen. Anyway, thanks for role playing.

[LYNX ♥]

xx closed,
this thread is finished!