chasing clouds. (open!)

[Emma (: [one]]

A fine leaf-fall breeze was tumbling across the plains of WindClan territory, stirring the tops of the sun-kissed grass with gentle nudges of cool air. But Darkstripe had no chance to enjoy it, as all of his concentration was focused in the midst of a chase between life and death. The tabby tom's sharp green eyes were narrowed against the sun and fixated upon the fleeing brown hare, bounding away mere tail-lengths in front of him.The small rodent was swerveing in and out of the thick heather patches that dotted the WindClan moors in a cunning attempt to dodge his pursuer; but Darkstripe would not be lost.

The chase had been drawn out for a signifigant amount of time now, and Darkstripe found his breath coming in hurried gasps. But the hare, too, was tiring under the strain of the pursuit, and the tom observed the rodent's pace slowing ever so slightly, reducing the distance between them by perhaps a kitten's step each heartbeat. Feeling the end of his hunt drawing close, Darkstripe grit his teeth together and forced his burning muscles to work faster, greater closing the gap between hunter and prey. The rabbit's tempting smell lingered upon the trail that the tabby's white paws followed; it had long ago woken the hunger within Darkstripe's hollow stomach.

It was then that Darkstripe realized the rodent's goal destination, looming not far ahead of the sprinting pair. The hare was heading on a straight course for a shdowed hole, burrowed into the side of a slightly raised mound of dirt- the rabbit's den. Realizing that his time to catch his prey was quickly diminishing, Darkstripe summoned all his strength, bunched his muscles, and took a huge leap forward, directly aimed at the skinny brown body of the hare. When his claws snagged the limb of the rabbit's back leg, Darkstripe instantly knew his leap of faith had been successful. The hare had stumbled as Darkstripe's paw clipped its hind leg, and now the tom took advantage of his prey's momentary weakness. Leaping upon the struggling hare, Darkstripe pinned its scrawny shoulder to the ground with one dusty white paw, and ended its life with a hard bite to the neck.

Once the warm prey body had grown stiffly still, the WindClan warrior relaxed and stepped tiredly back from his catch, looking around at his bare surroundings. There wasn't much available cover where he stood, save the rabbit's den, which lurked darkly only a couple cat-lengths away. But the thought of stuffing the thick rabbit carcass into a narrow hole such as that did not appeal to Darkstripe; however, neither did the prospect of dragging the large deadweight the enitre way back to where he had stashed his field pigeon, which he had caught earlier. Sighing in mild frustration, Darkstripe decided to simply abandon the carcass under a thin clump of gorse, and hope that no hungry falcons flying over the plains would spot it.

The matter of stashing his catch dealt with, Darkstripe turned away from the site of the kill and began to slowly trudge up the nearest shallow rise in the land. The chase had left the dark tabby winded, and Darkstripe felt the need, for once, to simply sit and experience the draw of the WindClan moors. Upon reaching the level top of the short hill, the tom met a small tangle of gorse barring his path. He pushed his way forcefully through it, and emerged into bright sunlight upon the other side. Blinking once in the soft warmth of the rays, the tabby settled himself in a cautious sitting position in front of the gorse bushes, feeling a few far-reaching leaves prodding the fur of his back. He sighed then, feeling his mind become oddly blank, and raised his eyes above, to carelessly watch a few puffy white clouds scoot playfully across the sky.

|words: 671
|muse: there, sort of.
|contains: darkstripe.
|company: open to all.
|notes: just felt like starting some roleplay. :x

[Hollystar]

A small white she-cat made her way across the moorland, her swift, slender body measured in form with the ground beneath her paws, her long tail flicking behind her. Her small paws slightly skimmed the ground as she padded closer to the scent of a warrior nearby, and even deeper... The scent of prey. She opened her jaws, her muzzle angled to the sky, tasting the air. A rabbit. And blood. She knew the warrior must have succeeded in his kill. At a closer length she recognized the scent of Darkstripe, before seeing his dark brown tabby pelt marked before gorse. She raised her tail in greeting, although wary and keeping her caution, as she padded over to her clan mate, dipping her head it her normal manner of respect. "Greetings, Darkstripe," she murmured, in her quiet, low tone. The scent of rabbit and field pidgeon was mixed in with his Windclan scent, and the tip of her tail flicked. "Prey's running well, I assume?" Although her words are a statement, she spoke them as a question, just to get some conversation going in the dim, musky air.

[Emma (: [one]]

For a long time, Darkstripe had no company but the wind ruffling his fur and the stroke of the buffeted gorse against his back, yet the tabby enjoyed the solitude. Feeling so small and alone, within the empty vastness of the WindClan plains, made it almost feel as though he resided in some sort of dream; it was a nice change from the constant pressure and choices of real life. But reality was quickly dragged back by an innocent change of the wind, and Darkstripe's eyes snapped open as a trace of a fellow cat was carried to his nose on the gentle breeze.

The wind, along with the scent, was coming towards him, and slightly off to the side. His ears perking up curiously upon his head, Darkstripe turned his chin over his dark shoulder to scan the surrounding moorland with his infamously keen emerald gaze. Not far off, so that Darkstripe wondered how he had not sensed her arrival earilier, the tom recognized the snowy white form of Whitesplash padding leisurely across the plains in his direction. This in itself was interesting; since Darkstripe had known the she-cat, this being nearly the entirity of their lives considering Whitesplash was only a moon older than he, she had always seemed a little reserved from the rest of the Clan. That she would approach him now raised Darkstripe's curiousity, but the tom was careful to assume nothing. The tabby slowly dipped his head in response, carefully masking his surprise from his face, as the WindClan she-cat raised her long white tail in a delicate greeting. He thought he could detect a trace of guardedness about the white she-cat as she approached, but before he could be sure, it had evaporated from her blue-green eyes.

"Whitesplash," Darkstripe said, returning her hello. He nodded concurringly to her courteous inquire. "Yes, it is, thank you. The rabbits seem to just hop into our paws these days." He paused after saying this to lean forward slightly and stretch his forelegs against the ground, his long, lightly colored claws extending out from his white paws. He had grown a little stiff, sitting for so long soon after his sprint. His legs feeling substantially better, he returned his gaze more comfortably to Whitesplash's face. "Are you out for a hunt yourself?"


|words: 403
|muse: pretty well there.
|contains: darkstripe.
|company: whitesplash.