Control your temper (P)

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    Sun blazing over the stretch of trees, bringing the day some pleasureable possibilities. Except for the fact that Trigger had to take out this unpleasureable she cat. The bobcat just hopped Robintail would be able to blow off some steam.


    Despite him being the owner of these cats, he would not keep them locked up forever. Plus, if they caught their own prey, he would not have to worry about that. Elixor wanted Trigger to care for these prisoners mostly alone, so the bobcat would.


    Hey he wasn't completly heartless. There was something there, hidden behind hate and untrust. At least these cats had come to a tom who may care, sometimes. "So, do you want to hunt," he mewed nonchalently turning to Robintail.

    Robintail followed carefully behind him, still somewhat cautious. It would take some adapting, but she aimed to be okay with this life- after all, she had no choice. It simply hurt her deeply to know that being here was her fault, and Featherstone's death...was hers as well, indirectly. No, she hadn't attacked her, but she had led her there, and under the influence of catnip, was too fuzzy minded to reconigze the danger and defend her.

    Letting out a sigh, she flicked her tail and turned to him, "I suppose so, some hunting would be nice."

    Trigger noticed again that Robintail was feeling uneasy...and something else although this tom could not reach what it was. Despite his not wanting to get close to cats, he was strangly good at reading others.


    With a quick shake of his large head, the bobcat nodded. "Just go ahead, Ill follow behind," Trigger mewed, motioning for Robintail to act like he was not there. Although that would be hard, he knew since he was keeping this she cat prisoner. And he strangly felt slightly bad for that. But he would not let it cloud his mind.

    Robintail cast him a skeptical look over her shoulder, but took a step forward passed him. she couldn't underestimate him right now, she barely knew him, and judging by the other cats there at the party, he could sure be a devil. She watched as cats were killed for sport, one practically skinned. Now, she had to prance around and hunt, as if all was at ease-especially hard seeing as her captor was much larger then she.

    She also had a thought nudging at the back of her mind. Would he try to make her bear his kits? How could she escape that? But luckily, an idea had already popped into her head. nothing said she couldn't lie. To either say she was already pregnant, or perhaps was barren. Perhaps that would evade him...for a while. Maybe. how could she explain that the closest cat she had gotten to was a female? Then again that might frighten him away as well.

    Pushing it all away, she picked up her pace, thick tail swaying behind her as she went into a hunter mode.

    Trigger eyed the she cat, seeing her caution. It was expected she would be cautious, as she should be. It wasn't every day that this bobcat would be so open to acting normal with his prionser. He was not bi polar, but his temper could flair out at times. Just how he was raised.

    Everything in life came as it wanted, that is what Trigger believed. Sometimes it just wasnt good or fast enough for the bobcat. So snapping out or being snarky always made it seem better. Although he was sure the cat at the other end wasnt so sure.

    With some interest he watched Robintail hunt. She was attractive, if he though about her that way. He could force her, since she would not be able to deny it. It would be fun, but was that really who he was? Yes he could be cruel at times, but he wasn;t the type to force something on someone if they didn't want it.


    He had never forced a cat, never killed a cat. It was not the typical storm tribe cat, but hey it was hime.

    Slinking low to the ground, the female had no idea that his thought process closely mirrored her earlier concern. What's more, he was actually considering it.

    If only she knew.

    Nevertheless, Robintail crept along near the ground, her thin frame silent and agile, as even though she had a medium length coat, it coated her sides in a slimming figure. Her snout was not the scrunched appearance of a persian, but longer and more pronounced like an oriental or siamese. Either way, she certainly was not an ugly creature. She had a delicate nature about her, even if her temper did flare.

    But truthfully, who was the anger created for?

    Subconciously, she knew she needed punishment-ailment- something to illustrate that what had occured was by no mean alright. Something to forever remind her of her friend she had cost the life of.

    Though being titled as a prisoner sounded offending, it thus far hadn't prove difficult. She simply had more rules and a new location. Deep down, she begged for something more, something to punish her for her immature ways at the party, for stumbling back home, right into the paws of the trap and dragging her friend alongside her.

    Damn her, damn her! It was all her fault, and here she was, alive and well, hunting like a princess! She almost paused to let out a wail, but knew Trigger might deem her insane, and thus found it wiser to stifle such sounds.

    Her muscles tensed however, and her ears turned forward focusing on a mouse, and a second later, she leapt for it, catching it by the neck and easily popping it from its small place and leaving it lifeless.

    Oh how easily life could be erased-but never forgotten.

    She paused with it in her jaws, and turned to him, eyes wreathing in emotion, mixed in all sorts, her own heart pounding.

    Well at least she could hunt. That showed she was a normal cat. Not one of those mental things that wandered in here at times.

    Then he flinched as he turned. The emotion in her eyes was so raw. So real. It was actuallu painful to see. It had been a long time since Trigger had seen such emotion in a cats eyes.

    Last time had been his old mate, when she saw him with that prisoner. Maybe this explained his hate for most prisoners. If not for there air of danger and lust nothing would have happened. Why did he have to be a tom so easily controlled by lust? It had not always been like that. He could only take one she cat at a time.

    His stupid heart could not take just standing there any longer. Even if she refused, said nothing Trigger just could not ignore that emotion. Cautiously stepping closer to Robintail, h let his gaze soften. "Whats wrong," he mewed cautiously, softly. He would try to help, even if she did not want it.

    The last thing she felt she deserved was comfort. That simply added to the ever growing list of things she received, but did not earn. Life, a sense of happiness, and another's concern. All things that perhaps she deserved once, but not now. Not when Featherstone was gone. The reoccuring truth revolved in her mind like a spinning glass door, determined to swing around and hit her before she had time to escape the next coming glass pane.

    She shook her head softly, opening her mouth to speak. She fought back a slew of language and words that at first tried to create themselves, it would have sounded like soup had she not quelled it.

    "Why...why do you seek to be kind to me, when I deserve such the opposite?" She finally questioned, eyes hardened. Her fur nearly began to stand up. Why, when he could have already tortured her, killed her, forced her, starved her, left her pinned with the two idiotic dreamers, did he decide to bring her out here to calm her?

    "I do not deserve it. I deserve punishment." She whispered, her claws sinking into the ground at the spoken realization.

    Trigger was no good at this, resolving problems within. It was what had plagued him at times, the inability to truly understand other cats. Sometimes he felt he could slightly help, but this was too much.

    Stubby tail twitching in uncertanty, he wondered what had made this she cat so like this. Trigger wondered what he could do to help, some how. This is what made him different to the normal anti-clan cats. He cared about all cats, to a certain extent. He did not like the clans, but he believed the cats in them deserved a chance. A chance to show what they were to him and the other anti-clan cats.

    "Why would you say that? No matter what you think and what you think I should think, I know you do not deserve punishement," Trigger mewed carefully. This was unknown territory he was walking into. It would be difficult to get out once he went in, but Trigger knew he had to do something.

    She nearly trembled then, her gaze flickering down to the mouse. Why was he being so caring? Was it not the opposite of what his title entitled him to be? This sudden good cop bad cop scenario threw her off balance, and she was unsure whether or not to trust him or not.

    She did not want to find reassurance or reliance in him, when she did not derserve it, or to only see it turned around later.

    Her claws still out and in the ground, and retracted them, and approached him much closer, a mere few inches from his face, studying his eyes. "Tell me Trigger, tell me what you will do to me-what you will want from me." She needed to hear him declare that she would be a useless slave, or wretch and a rat sent forth to do his biddings. she needed to know where she stood. She tried to supress the emotion, and ignored the questions he tossed her way. Perhaps she'd answer them, but she needed to know that which she now asked of him.

    The bobcat almost stepped back as the she cat came so close. What would he do with her? He himself did not even know. He did not know what he would do with any of the cats he had taken. All he knew was that they were his slaves and they had to listen to him.

    There was no answer that he could say, nothing even close tob eing on the tip of his tongue. Mind completly blank, Trigger stared dumbfounded at Robintail. It seemed she did not want to talk about her emotions with him. But honestly, why would she? She had no idea what was to come of her life as long as she was with him. Robintail probably had ahd a good life untill Trigger had taken it.

    That pained him, to think this she cat had once had a good life, taken from her by the anti-clans. But that was life, and they all had to deal. "In truth Robintail, I don't know. I have never had prisoners of my own. And if I am speaking truthfully I am not a bloodthirty, cruel cat," Trigger puffed out his chest slightly and stood taller, staring back at Robintail. "I know you will never trust me, but ypu must at least know, I am not like others here. As long as you stay quiet and listen, nothing of harm will happen to you."

    Robintail watched as he appeared almost bumbfounded, but quickly regained himself. She stepped back to her respective distance, watching as he displayed himself physically, and with a sense of reassuring words. Most cats would be thrilled to hear they had received a kind master, but she-she felt she deserved the opposite.

    "It's my fault she died." She mewed. Hell with the invisible boundary between slave and master, hell with the line of dinstinction between use and care.

    "I...I loved her." It came out faintly, barely audible. Her eyes remained transfixed on the ground, unable to meet his gaze after admitting such a thing was true. Her claws again unsheather, digging into the ground, as if to root her from dashing frantically away, or floating off into the sky, for now, she felt strangely weightess, as if she truly wasn't even here.

    This was not what he thought would come out of this. Something so obviously hard to say outloud for this she cat. Although, Trigger had no idea who this 'her' was.

    Eyes watching Robintail warily, he used his paw to life her head upwords. Trigger knew it was so wrong adn weird for a master to be so gentil with a slave, but at the moment he had no cares for that.

    "I don't know who you talk about, but what I do know is she would not want you to be like this. She would not want you to give up and let yourself colapse," his eyes were soft, looking gently at Robintail. He did not know what she really wanted was hatred. PLus, Trigger would not be able to give hatred to such a confused and greifstricken she cat.

    She allowed her eyes to meet his as he listened, but then turned away. It was too difficult to look into his comforting eyes. The boundary again presented itself, barbed wire and strong. Turning away, she muttered, "Have your mouse, and I'll keep hunting." Her voice was semi hollowed.

    Trigger stepped back, realizing he had completly stepped over the boundary. Aw well, he just took things as they came so it was fine for him. Eyes stll watching Robintail worridly, the bobcat nodded. "Alright, if you sure," he mewed.

    Robintail nodded, almost feeling nearly sick. Silently, she crept forward, trying to change the subject. Stalking low, she soon returned with another mouse, a bit bigger this time, and dropped it to his feet, laying there beside it afterward. She knew not what to say, so she simply laid there, like the little slave she now was.

    Trigger nodded to Robintail, knowing she most likely would not want to talk much now. They needed to play the roles they were in correctly. Picking up the mouse she had caught earlier, the bobcat flicked his bob tail. "Shall we go back. Or do you want to walk," he mumbled around the prey. Then he realized he had again treated Robintail like a regular cat, not a slave. This was going to take some getitng used to.

    She gazed upward, nodding. "I would prefer to stay out here for a walk-" She answered.

    To escape those annoying two...and a half. She thought, remembering the kit.

    Trigger could almost read her thoughts, knowing she would prefer not to be with the other prisoners. In all honesty, neither did the bobcat. He really did not know why he had picked those two. "Alright, well lets walk then," he mewed and turned to go depper into the forest, after burying the mouse.

    Robintail nodded, and though she felt slightly uncomfortable aside him, she knew she would learn to deal with it. A part of her simply wanted to test him, to see if he would adjust to his title, while another part wanted to flee. She picked up her pace a bit, but not fast enough to be labeled as running. She followed him into the forest, not once hesitating.

    She wasn't used to this tribe territory, but she would soon become accustomed. Once more, she wasn't used to the large forms of bobcats such as Trigger, and other wildcats and hybrids. They were nearly double her size and larger, crazy to imagine.

    It was hard to think of something to say, after all, was she really permitted to make small chat? But now, she seemed brave enough.

    "Do you know what love is?" She questioned in a simplistic tone. No, not the feeling of butterflies, but what did it really mean? The young warrior wasn't sure if she herself knew.