Monday, baby, I fell for you. Tuesday, I wrote you this song~ [Open!]

((Haven't heard that song yet, but it sounds good .3. Who sings it? =3))

If ever there was a time that a loner could feel lonely, left wandering the land for days and weeks at a time, being shunned by the clans, now was the time. As the sun sank below the horizon, splashing the sky with vibrant reds, pinks and purples, satin clouds sprinkling diamond dust, showering the land in glittering snow, a cat with messy, unkempt tabby brown fur with deep brown eyes to match padded across the moors, his paws sinking deep into the snow with every step. He let out an irritated breath, lifting a paw and flicking the cold, wet stuff off of it; he'd always hated winter. He was only vaguely aware of the fact that he was trespassing on Windclan territory; not that he particularly cared. He was only passing through; admittedly, Windclan's flat-landed territory, bare of trees, had the best view of the sunset. Of course, he would never admit that that was the reason he'd come this way.

((Ooh, I knew I recognized it =D No worries kid, I love that show xD))

"Ztupid snow, ztupid cold...Everything eez just so ztupid," the tabby muttered under he breath, his unprotected paw pads chilled from the cold. He spoke in a strange accent; it sounded partially French, partially German, as if someone had taken a little bit of both and thrown them in together to make this custom-made accent, especially for Christophe the cat. In a way, it sort of fit with his rough exterior.

So distracted by the world and how annoying it was, he failed to notice a cat nearby. He was nearly fox-lengths away from her when he finally realized that he was walking straight into an attack. He came to an abrupt stop, blinking. "Er...Hello," he said slowly, flicking his tail. "Eez somezhing wrong?"

((Yush, it's very reassuring x3))

Flicking a bit of snow off of his ears, Christophe raised a brow. "I am aware of zhat. Can I not just be passing zhrough vizhout somevone zhinking I'm about to keel off your entire clan?" He asked, a bit of annoyance lacing his tone. He almost smirked at the she-cat, her accent coming as a surprise to him. Of course, he wasn't one to talk about accents. Now that the opportunity had come, maybe he would stick around for a little while, rub her fur the wrong way; clan cats always thought with their claws instead of their brain. Perhaps he'd even get a little fight.

Christophe grinned at this. "Vell, you've confronted me now, haven't you?" He lifted a paw, casually swiping his tongue over it. "Look, I have no intentions of harming you or your clan or anything, and I really don't want to be wasting my time vith zome annoying she-cat." He flicked his tail, plopping down into the snow as if he planned on staying. "Unless you vant to talk." He added, still grinning. Yes, he'd have some fun with this one.

Christophe raised both brows. "How do you know? You don't," he answered simply. "My vord probably means nothing to you. It eez your choice, whether you choose to trust me or not." He parted his jaws in a yawn, shaking out his dark-colored fur, which had been powdered with snow. "I vouldn't expect you to let down your guard. Zhat vould be stupeed, and therefore make you stupeed," he said with a shrug. "Anyvay, you're a big bad clan cat. Vhy don't you just send me on my vay, if you think I pose such a huge threat?" He asked, though his tone wasn't challenging; he simply sounded bored.

Christophe gave the she-cat a quizzical look, but didn't argue. "My name? Call me Ze Mole," he said, flicking his tail. It was quite a strange thing to call someone, but in his old clan, he'd been known for his skills when it came to digging. It seemed unnecessary at first, but during leaf-bare, he'd saved his clan from starvation numerous times by uncovering the nests of prey buried beneath the snow. Since then, he'd carried the name wherever he went; he found it more convenient than giving out his real name to every cat he met. "And I told you, I am only passing through."

Christophe 'Ze Mole' only shrugged, flicking his ears. "I'm a loner. I vander. I vill just continue to vander." He frowned, remembering the group he had once started, made for cats without a place to go. After being attacked by dogs and forced to find help or else die, he'd sent them to stay with his cousin while he found the help he needed; however, his cousin was killed by a group of stray rogues, leaving the group of cats, called La Resistance, to scatter and fend for themselves. He had not seen any of them since then. "I don't see vhy eet vould really matter to you," he added, raising a brow and smiling widely. "You probably zhink I am just some crazy German cat who ray away from his clan, don't you?"

Moley blinked, taken aback by this. This whole confrontation had been going a lot more smoothly than he'd expected, but he certainly hadn't seen this coming. "For all you know, I could be a mass murderer," he murmured, giving her a quizzical look. "If I vere, I vould probably accept your offer, and zhen I would end up ambushing your clan and starting a battle. You vould be very unpopular among your clanamtes," he said, smirking. "Did you zhink about zhat?" For the first time in a while, Christophe was actually quite enjoying himself, talking to this cat who he didn't even know. What it was about her that made him feel like he was actually worth something, he wasn't sure, but the feeling was there.

The rugged tom's smirk widened into a slight grin, and he looked past Texanspirit, off into the Windclan territory. He would probably be an idiot to turn down the offer she'd made him, but he could never see himself living with clan cats. He'd just be an outcast among them; somehow, the prospect of living alone all his life seemed better than being surrounded by cats who didn't want you around. He glanced back at the she-cat, flicking his tail. By this time, the sun had set below the horizon, and the fields were splashed in darkness, moonlight pouring down on them, pure and silver. "You should have. And whezher I'm a zhreat or not; vell, it depends on how you look at it." He pushed himself to his paws. "Vell, ah, Texanspirit, eet vas nice meeting you."

Ze Mole paused at this, raising a brow at Texanspirit. Despite himself, he felt a well of warmth at this. "Just earlier you vere about ready to rip me to zhreds," he reminded her, amusement lacing his tone. "And zhen you ask me to join your clan. And now you don't seem to vant me to leave." He grinned, flicking a bit of snow off of his ears. "Alright zhen. If you really want to chat, letz zake a walk," he said simply. He was probably suggesting a lot by saying this, but from what he'd seen of her behavior already, she should be more than willing to walk for a while rather than sit there. Besides, something about the idea made him feel as if he weren't just some loner--he didn't feel like a clan cat, of course--but he didn't feel completely alone in the world. This was the first time he'd felt like there was someone else who even remotely cared about him since La Resistance.