wounded warrior lost in a blizard

[img width=510 height=509]http://upload.wikimedia.org/wi…/commons/7/7f/Tom_Cat.jpg[/img]

Name ;; Snaketree
Gender ;; Tom
Personality ;; A bit like a snake. Cold-hearted. That's where he received his name from; being an arrogant, malicious tom. If you can get his other side, the sweet and sensitive side out, that's great. But usually he is headstrong and rude.
Other ;; None.

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Snow blinded the brown and black tom as he pushed onwards, back facing the streaming currents of white flakes. But still, the burning frozen liquid still managed to somehow invade his eyes. Snaketree's ears pricked when he heard the strange call of another cat in distress. Rushing to find her, he knew if he found another cat, that meant he was close to him. Or it could just be a hoax, or a loner. He could have heard a screaming badger for all he knew, but he trusted his instincts and headed forward, towards the distressed cat. "I'm coming!" Snaketree yelled, voice drowned out and masked the high, raging winds swirling around him.

"Hold on!"

Through the blinding weather, he could just see the silhouette of a cat, pushing threw the snow just as he was doing. Bounding threw the knee-high coldness, he was sure to keep his head down, blocking the snow, until he consciously ran into another cat. Good. He had found her. Now he knew where shelter was; a small hollow that had been carved into a gnarled willow tree. A little to the left from here. "Follow me." He ordered her, voice husky, then turned and began pushing throw the dense sheets of snow, brown fur whipping into the winds.

Finding the hollow, he skirted the tunnel of snow and moved inside, where it was warm, dry, and bedded with fresh moss and leaves. This was his home; his personal space. And he was actually allowing a cat in. Well... What could he do? He couldn't let a cat just freeze and die a little ways off from his den. First off, it would stink. Second off, he'd have to drag it somewhere, and third off, he'd have to dig a hole and bury it. Too much work for one dead cat. Snaketree made room for her and sat in the corner of his den, shaking the wetness from his pelt and starting to groom himself, rough tongue moving gently over his soaking fur. Gradually, he began to dry.

Slightly annoyed at her sweet-innocent-girl attitude, Snaketree turned away from her and finished drying himself. "Thanks for ruining my day." He said to her, voice as rude as the spirits of the Dark Forest. No. A little ruder than that. His father was actually a Dark Forest cat.

Snaketree turned and glared at her, eyes cold and resembling those of a snakes. "Do you want to repeat that?" He asked her. "Because I get throw you back out in that blizzard and not think a thing of it. I'd rest more peacefully tonight." His voice was cold, emotionless, and hollow. He had no heart. No feelings for strange cats like her.

Pain flashed in his eyes. Cold-hearted tom. How many times had he heard that phrase before? Even from his own mother. The mother that always treated him like an outcast. Like a different species. Hurt, he turned, his back facing the she-cat, and sat down, ears flat against his head, tail curled around his paws. It was true.

"Who said I wanted to rescue you? I just sorta bumped into you, and you followed me." Not really. Snaketree knew that was lie; that he had called her over the high winds that still blared full-force outside the hollow. Getting tired of the small, cold breeze coming in, he grabbed some moss and somehow attached it to the opening, sealing it shut. Now it was dark. Good thing he had night vision.

"I'm sorry." The tom apologized with a shrug.

Wanting to make polite conversation, Snaketree tried acting curious. "So what were you doing in that blizzard anyway? Where we you heading when you got caught up?" Even he had been expecting this blizzard. For days now. Snaketree could sense an upcoming blizzard.