Hunting Alone.. (Private - Brindle4Luna only)

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    Thistle prowled about, stalking a mouse. He braced his back and put his legs back, about to pounce. He needed food, the blue tom thought, he needed it. He's been a while without it.

    Cleo checked the air once again- no wind. Perfect. She gathered her haunches under her, ready to pounce.


    (OOC- Check her out in the charector bios, under "Cleo the rouge" Also, can they post at the same time, and collide in midair?)

    (OOC: I did. And that would be hard to time. But sure, I'll collide into you now.)


    IC:


    Thistle leaped at the prey in front of him. He had it in his grasp - right there! And he was about to get it. It felt slow motion as he was in midair. He reached out, claws unsheathed...

    CRASH!


    Thistle was knocked sideways, hurrying the thankful mouse away. He sprang upward. "What' you do that for, you piece of fox-dung!?" spat Thistle. Cats these days!

    Cleo landed on her side, winded. She scrambled up, her fur fluffing up around her small frame. "Me?!" she spat. "I was clearly stalking that mouse! The fact that you can't tell a cat's scent from a prey scent isn't my fault!"

    "So it was'clearly', eh?" scoffed Thistle. He rolled his eyes. "Well it certainly ain't my fault you can't either, nor that you want to get your attention to a mouse."

    "Listen, bub. You need to learn a thing or two." She unsheathed her claws, and sprang at the tom. Clinging to his back, with the advantage of her slight build, she was out of range of his claws.

    Surprised at his foe's attack, he went to the ground and rolled over, with the cat clinging his back to the ground. He swept his claws, and missed, so pressed hard against the ground.

    Squashed by the cat's weight, she decided to use plan B. Cleo went limp under his thick blue fur, giving the image of being defeated.

    When Thistle felt the cat under him go limp, he sprang up. He unsheathed his claws and dug them into each of her shoulders, pinning her down. "Hah! Who's learnin' a thing or two now, hm?" He peirced his claws as hard as he could into her fur.

    Cleo smirked, then thrusted herself up from under the unsuspecting tom with violet force, throing him backward. Before he could get his bearings, she pinned him down, one paw, unsheathed claws included, on his throat, the other on his belly. "Still you."

    Thistle, even though angry, grunted but did not move. "What do you want, anyway?" he mumbled harshly. He showed no sign of attack, only the look of great anger on his face.

    She cocked her head to one side, considering. Then, she lifted her paw and let him up. "Honestly? I want those no-good clans out of my life."

    Thistle kept quiet. Then he said slowly, "And what do I have to do with this? I want them to leave as much as you do.." He decided not to get up, in case of another one of the she-cat's attacks.

    "They think they're so great for chasing us all out of our homes. Leaving us alone to feed off their scraps, tormenting every innocent traveler who wanders into their territory, spendin' their time gazin' at stars...."

    Thistle's face came over with a hateful expression. "I drifted into their camp once. They kept on ranting on how I was 'a rouge cat' and that 'cats of my type should keep their smelly tails out of their territory'. Racist, they are." He looked to the ground, furious and thinking.

    "'Specially that new one. Lots of cats had been living there for moons. Then they just waltzed right in and drove them out. Nowhere to go, all 'cause of their greed."