The Next Adventure [CLOSED]

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  • #6259
    Wolfstar
    Participant

    ~F O S T E R~

     Dawn was coming up in streaks and slashes over the grassy field, dancing with the leftover fog from the short night before. The last of the stars twinkled out of sight to make room for the early sun, and the moon stayed a dull white to remind the ones on the ground it would come back not too long from now. The surroundings were no longer quiet and deserted. There was a trickle of a nearby stream that cut through the field and ran towards a wooden Twoleg den before jutting to the right and disappearing behind a hill. A rugged-looking feline swiftly padded through the shallow water, not minding when his paws became wet. It was obvious he didn’t care much for his looks with his bedraggled brown fur and torn left ear. Scars littered his muzzle and paws, and there was a patch of fur missing from his flank over a recent injury. Despite these wounds and his unkempt pelt, his sage-green eyes were bright and mirroring the eagerness of finding somewhere to stay for good. His whole life had been about adventure. Now it was time to settle down. 

    The tabby tom, Foster, had heard whispers of a place called the Outskirts from rogues back in the mountains. The small group had stayed there for the leafbare moons before finally departing to journey once more, meeting up with Foster on the edge of a cliff and telling him about this place. Foster hadn’t planned on the intense eagerness of finding the Outskirts and staying for awhile, but he felt it deep within his gut. If the group of rogues was right, and prey ran swiftly there, then what would be so terrible about staying for a few seasons? 

    Foster pushed his way through clumps of tall, parsley-green grasses, the whispers of past feline’s passages in each and every blade. The floor of the path was flat, indicating several before him had stepped here before. I must be getting close. His eyes narrowed as he peered through the greenery, continuing forward until he eventually found himself in an open clearing. It was beautiful. Several blooming flowers littered the outside of the clearing and moss covered a pile of old wood in the center. Foster could smell the very faint scent of other cat’s in the area, but they had been gone for at least a few sunrises. The clearing was kept clean with only one pile of discarded bones to his left, and he could tell there was a dirtplace area in the far back, tucked away for privacy. I could get used to this, Foster thought as he padded around to give everything a good sniff. 

    • This topic was modified 2 months, 2 weeks ago by Wolfstar.
    #6260
    Feared
    Participant

    Casper ~ Rogue

    For two long hours the young tomcat has been wandering into the wilderness, his off white and cream tabby fur sticking up in odd angles from his nerves. Every little sound and hiccup had this young feline wired, pupils narrowing in caution as a small pheasant shot up from the yellowing field, the sound of the wings fluttering caused his little heart to beat wildly within his slim chest. “Holy shit.” He gasped softly, robin blue colored eyes shifted nervously up towards the sky as he followed the movements of the pheasant. Upon seeing the bird, his stomach instantly growled, causing him to grimace slightly and look away from the bird. This young Tomcat wasn’t starving but he was bone and skin either, the base coloring for his pelt was an ivory white, with pale cream stripes crossing over his slim back. Pale cream stripes decorate the top half of his face, sporting a dark brown nose. Large triangular ears sit upon his wedged head, while his muzzle is a tad bit longer than that of a normal house cat. Casper was one of the many orientals within the city, but as of late because of his gender and age, he had been kicked out of the family group in order to live out on his own and produce his own little heathens.

    Casper was only a year old and his pelt was still free of scars or imperfections, and although he had the basics down for survival, he had never actually been on his own. However, the scent of old bones attracted his attention, his stomach leading him in the direction. You should be grateful for bones, never give up an opportunity. His uncles voice rang within his mind, his small body keeping to the shaded grass as he walked, unaware of the other presence that wasn’t too far off. Breaking through the grass, he peered down into the small clearing of dirt with little flowers, but he didn’t care how cute the area was, all he wanted was the bones. Although, as Foster walked out into the clearing, Casper’s ears fell flat against his head with sudden annoyance and fear. The look on this cat! Pelt covered in scars, his pelt was scruffy like he never groomed himself and his facial expression was terrifying. Nope. I ain’t dying today. He immediately thought, turning on his heels to walk away, but his hind paw slipped from the lip of the decline, gasping softly as he went tumbling backwards.

    Claws slipped out as he tried to catch himself, but his slightly tall and lanky body went tumbling down the decline, a mere three feet. His body was stopped by the body of another, his head spinning and his sides tingled with pain from his ordeal as his gaze flickered up at Foster. F*ck. He groaned inwardly, before a slow and weak smile soon found its way onto his muzzle. “Hey there… uh…. you gonna eat those bones?” He asked cautiously.

    #6275
    Wolfstar
    Participant

    Focused on sniffing his surrounding area, Foster hadn’t noticed the scrawny-looking cat that poked its head out of the grasses on the other side of the clearing. The brown tabby’s nose was close to a pile of bones with a little bit of meat still clinging to some of them. It smelled old, and the meat was just beginning to turn sour. It made Foster wrinkle his nose with disgust. Why kill something and then not eat it all? How about showing some respect for your food? He shook his large head, lifting it up and away from the bones so he could turn away, but then something bumped into him. The fur along his neck bristled with surprise and he looked down at a pale, cream-colored tom shoved against his hindlegs. “What the-” He glared down at the newcomer. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Foster stepped away from the stranger, a confused and weirded-out expression clearly on his face. He wasn’t mad, however, seeing as he knew he would be able to squash this young cat with one pawstep, and he had a feeling he knew it too. At the stranger’s inquiry, Foster looked back at the aged bones with a lifted eyebrow. “You want to eat…that?” 

    He showed his discontent with a huff of air he quickly let out of his lungs, shaking his head. “No. I don’t know who you are, but you can’t possibly be serious about eating the leftover’s of someone’s meal. Don’t you know how to hunt? I mean you don’t look starving yet, and I smelled a ton of prey on the way here.This tom looks not much older than a kit! Where are his scars? Almost every cat he had met on his journeys had at least one scar, but this stranger’s pelt was as smooth as rock in the bottom of a creek-bed. Suddenly, it dawned on him. “Oh! You’re one of those cats that lives with the hairless creatures that walk on two legs.” Foster shook out his bedraggled coat as if shaking away the thought of a Twoleg rubbing their paws on his back. “I can’t say I understand, but you definitely shouldn’t eat those bones. You might get sick, and that’s not what real prey tastes like.” A few seasons ago, Foster had been offered the dry-pellet food from a cat who lived with Twolegs. He had taken one bite and couldn’t even swallow it. Foster’s eyes narrowed at the skinny tom. “Why are you so far away from your home?

    #6276
    Feared
    Participant

    Casper ~ Rogue

    He smiled uneasily at the stranger as the tomcats fur bristled and he stared down at him in disbelief, but he stayed very still even when Foster stepped away, allowing his chin to tilt slightly as he followed the older cats movements as the Tom questioned him. “I fell in.” He suggested with a slight shrug, still laying on his side for a moment before his bright blue eyes flickered towards the pile of old bones that Foster seemed fairly skeptical about. “Uh… yeah?” He said slowly, although the tone of the older Tom caused him to hesitate with claiming the bones for himself. Slowly he pushed himself up into an upright sitting position as he glanced back towards the old pile of bones. Sure they smelt bad and the rotting meat didn’t look very appetizing, but he couldn’t exactly be too picky since he didn’t know how to hunt anything other than a mouse or rat. “Well… I must say that you do make a lot of good points.” He meowed slowly, before his eyes flickered back towards Foster and he gave another small shrug. “I’m honestly not the best hunter, there were mostly squirrels and birds. I can barely catch a mouse so when I smelled the bones I figured that would be a good alternative for now.” He suggested weakly, but the older tomcat did have a point. They would possibly make him sick.

    Chin tilted when Foster seemed to have an understanding that Casper was a simple house cat, which caused him to arch an eyebrow. “I’ll have you know that I am not a house cat. I am an alley cat.” He corrected, lifting his chin just a little. True, he was born an alley cat but he was an untried alley cat, never having to face the hardships that his parents had faced. A rough sigh slipped from his lips as Foster kept making such good points, pouting slightly as he gave another shrug. “I guess I shouldn’t be eating those bones.” He decided with a huff before his blue eyes flickered back towards Foster as the older tom questioned what he was doing so far away from home. “Uh, actually. I don’t have a home anymore.” Casper explained sheepishly, honestly he had no idea what he was doing or the situation he was in wandering the wilderness. “In our alley once toms reach a certain age they are cast out of the family.” Casper spoke casually as if everyone did this, but he didn’t seemed upset with this decision but more so tired and slowly growing hungry. “Anyways, my name is Casper. What’s yours?” He asked nonchalantly. 

    #6278
    Wolfstar
    Participant

    He fell in? Foster couldn’t help but huff with disbelief, and continued his huffs until the leaner tom was finished explaining himself. “What kind of alley-life is that? I thought alley cats were supposed to be tough and…capable of hunting.” One of his eyebrows lifted as he stared at the stranger, who introduced himself as Casper. What a peculiar tom who had peculiar ways of life that was highly unknown to Foster. The brown tabby had traveled all his life so far, and while he was nowhere close to being an elder, he knew he had seen many, many things that other’s hadn’t. But the thought of an alley cat not knowing how to properly hunt? That was strange news to him. “The name is Foster,” he meowed, shrugging his shoulder’s nonchalantly. While he wasn’t yet relaxed being around this Casper fellow, he was by no means in a hurry to get away. This was the first place that deemed fit enough to settle down into, and if he could claim this territory before any others get in here then he would be set. But what about Casper?

    Foster tilted his head as he looked over the other tom, trying to find some sort of scar to show that he had been in a fight before. Nothing. “Hm. Well you won’t survive on your own if you don’t know how to hunt. And I can tell you’ve never fought anyone or…anything.” The bedraggled tom was very blunt, not caring if he hurt Casper’s feelings. The life of a rogue was not sensitive, and he needed to learn that sooner than later. “I plan on staying here for a little while. My paws are tired of traveling for a long time and I need a break before I go out again. In the meantime, I could teach you how to hunt properly if you’re willing. Gives me something to do anyways.” Foster scanned the clearing again with curious green eyes, hoping no one would be joining them anytime soon. His invitation to Casper was nothing entirely new. Foster had lived his life unafraid of many things, and other felines was one of them. He was usually bigger and tougher than all, and if another cat was friendly towards him, he would be friendly right back. However, if one made him angry… That was a different story. “What do you say? I’m sure you wouldn’t mind learning a few things, right?

    #6279
    Feared
    Participant

    Casper ~ Rogue

    Casper shifted uneasily as he noticed that Foster was eyeing him with a judging gaze, causing the young tomcat to lift his chin up in defense as he gave Foster a slight look. At Foster’s allegation about alley cats being tough, he felt sudden small as he was reminded of his young age once more. “Uh… usually.” He slowly drawled, giving a slight shrug once again. “My dad and uncle are pretty scarred up. I just… haven’t needed to be in a fight… yet.” Casper was stumbling on his words, feeling awkward that his pelt was so untouched but really his father and uncle had taken care of unwanted foes to their family while Casper and his sister were safe against their mothers stomach. However, he was nine moons old and was no longer needed around the family as his mother was expecting a new litter and needed to concentrate on her new coming kittens instead of worrying for her fun loving son. Foster of course was looking over his pelt once more, the eyes narrowed as he seemed to be looking for some sort of a scar. “Hey, buddy. My eyes are up here, I’m sorry if you have never seen such a handsome cat before.” He teased, trying to soothe down his own unease as his long tail flicked behind him in slight irritation that he was being judged in such a fashion. But what did he expect? He was completely untried and was expected to survive on his own? Those expectations were unrealistic.

    Lips twisted in an annoyed smirk as Foster spoke and pointed out that Casper wouldn’t survive long… it was hard to hear but he was not a complete fool. He knew that the odds were not in his favor. He was a piss poor hunter, and he wasn’t really the best at fighting but he could hold on his own against his sister, Luna. Slowly his tongue roamed along his bottom teeth and the inside of his cheek, a tick of his when nervous. “I wouldn’t say that I have no chance…” Casper muttered, but his crystal blue eyes were watching Foster very curiously as the tomcat seemed to be pondering something, only for a moment before he spoke. Ears leaned forward as he listened carefully, his eyes somehow managing to brighten with the fact that Foster would teach him how to hunt effectively. “Really?” He gasped in excitement, but immediately chastised himself for appearing so eager. Clearing his throat he dialed down his excitement and gave Foster a slight smile and dip of his chin. “I definitely wouldn’t mind learning a few things.” He assured Foster. Perhaps falling into this old goat wasn’t such a bad idea. Casper thought cheerfully to himself, chin tilting as he watched Foster curiously. “So.. where are you coming from then?” Casper asked curiously, taking a second to glance around the clearing but his attention was once more gained by Foster.

    #6281
    Wolfstar
    Participant

    ~F O S T E R~

    At Casper’s teasing joke over his handsomeness, Foster rolled his eyes. This young cat didn’t know what the world was like outside of his alley, and it was obvious he hadn’t been away from his family for long. Otherwise, he would have been more wary to be around a cat like himself. The brown tabby rogue twitched his ears and brought a paw up to his muzzle, picking out a tiny twig with his sharp teeth before spitting it out on the ground. “I wasn’t looking at you because of your looks, smart-mouth. I was looking you over to see the potential in you. To be honest, it’s a little hard to find any.” He gave Casper a glance with narrowed eyes. “But now that you’ve met me, you might have a little bit of a chance. But don’t expect me to want you around me for too long. I’m not a fan of company.” When Casper gasped with delight at Foster’s invitation, he couldn’t help but feel one side of his smile twitch upwards. Maybe he had been alone for so long that he craved the company of someone new and exciting? It might be fun to teach someone some things. Anyways, he wasn’t worried about any other cats bothering them seeing as not too many felines knew they would stand a chance against himself. The large tom shook out his bedraggled coat yet again, dust and leaves flying in every direction.

    Well then! Why don’t we start with hunting something? I scented a few mice on the way over here past the tall grasses. If we have no luck there then we’ll pad over to the abandoned Twoleg den and catch the easier mice for practice. Come!” Foster began to head towards the entrance of the small clearing they were in, but stopped at Casper’s last question. He swung his head towards the younger tom. How about if you catch something, then I’ll talk about myself. For now, we hunt seeing as I can hear your stomach’s yowls from here.” And with that, he turned back around and disappeared through the grasses with Casper just behind him. Foster lowered his voice and meowed, “Make sure you keep quiet when you hunt because all prey usually has great hearing. So make sure you don’t step on any twigs or dying leaves. Also, lift up your nose and smell out the area. Do you smell any mice?” The two toms kept padding through the tall grasses, and Foster perked his ears to listen for any sounds of skittering paws.

    • This reply was modified 4 months, 3 weeks ago by Wolfstar.
    #6285
    Feared
    Participant

    Casper ~ Rogue

    Pupils narrowed slightly for a moment as the young Tom watch Foster as he spoke, although he didn’t take any offense. Clearly he had been saying such as a joke, but he couldn’t help but slightly frown as he was called a smart mouth. Not nice… He thought silently to himself, but his chin tilted slightly when Foster mentioned that it was a little hard to find any potential within Casper, but he found himself smiling nonetheless. “A little hard… so there’s hope?” He meowed with a slightly grin upon his lips, chin tilting when Foster mentioned that he didn’t exactly like company. “Well with your charm I find that hard to believe.” He chimed, although he clearly believed what Foster was saying. If this tomcat didn’t enjoy company then perhaps he was simply taking pity upon him since his stomach was basically singing a symphony. He blinked in surprise when Foster stood up and shook out his pelt, causing his small brown nose to wrinkle with silent disgust as dust and leaves went everywhere from the violent shake. Dang… He needs a good groom. He thought to himself, looking down at the dust and leaves that lay on the ground for a brief moment before his blue eyes found Foster once more. “Oh, I like mice!” Casper meowed with enthusiasm, pushing himself up into a standing position as he walked after Foster, the prospect of food his motivator. “What’s a twoleg place? Oh! You mean the humans house?” After saying the strange word out loud, he realized the only creatures that he knew that walked on two legs and had such a large nest was humans.

    As Foster stopped short of the exit to the small clearing, he felt an eyebrow rise in curiosity as the tomcat began to speak once more, a grin swiftly finding its way onto his face. “That sounds like a good idea.” He nodded in agreement, maybe if he could catch a nice fat mouse he could learn something about Foster and that seemed to interest the young tomcat. “Hey… my stomach isn’t that loud.” He grumbled, although his stomach growled loudly in protest, causing his lips to purse and his eyes to narrow before he gave a slight shrug. “Point taken.” He clicked his tongue against the top of his mouth, following Foster out of the clearing, staying close to the older cats tail as he looked around curiously. He felt safer beside this Tom, maybe he actually had a chance of surviving and hunting! At first his paw steps were heavy and loud, but once Foster cautioned him that he should be quiet so he wouldn’t alert prey… he hesitate and chewed on the inside of his cheek as he looked sown at his paws. Twigs and dried leaves scattered the ground endlessly, causing him to sigh and frown. “That will be easy…” He muttered quietly, keeping the tone of his voice low like Foster’s.

    Casper kept his chin lowered as his blue eyes scanned the ground in order to keep an eye on his paw steps. Trying to walk quietly, his head turned to look at the leaves on the ground before his head quickly snapped upright as he was instructed to scent out the area. Frowning as he lifted his chin and breathed in the air around him, the scents muddled together and his eyebrows pulled together in a tight frown. “I’m…. not sure if I smell anything.” He admitted, whiskers twitching with anxiety as he looked around him. Casper wanted to sense that he could at least sniff out a mouse but the wilderness had so many other scents that he wasn’t used to, nose scrunching you as he lowered his head and sniffed at the other scents along the ground. “All I can smell is grass.” He whispered in a hushed tone, looking at the ground where he happened to spot a very small paw print, taking a sniff at the ground but the scent of dirt clouded his judgement. “Maybe that’s mouse…” He muttered, looking towards Foster.

    #6286
    Wolfstar
    Participant

    ~F O S T E R~

    Foster gave Casper a curious glance at the funny word he called the Twoleg’s. “Human,” he murmured quietly, more to himself than anything. Saying the word felt different in his mouth. Twoleg made much more sense than human. They walked on two legs, did they not? Human meant nothing. Foster shrugged and continued forward, turning around every now and then to watch Casper sniffing the ground before sniffing the air. He seemed like a confused kitten who had never seen the outdoors before, his eyes wide and bright, soaking in the knowledge of the world without realizing he was being loud. Foster stopped padding forward so his new companion would as well. “You can’t smell the mouse close by?” he questioned, keeping his voice at a whisper with his tail tip twitching to his right to indicate the direction of the creature. He looked down at the tiny pawprint in the ground and he nodded with confirmation. “Yes, that’s a mouse print. But they don’t leave very much scent on their paws like rabbits do. Rabbits have fur that trap their scent, but the mice have…weird feet that don’t smell much like anything. You have to sniff out their blood. It won’t smell like what you think blood smells like. Instead, it’ll be muffled with a warm smell. I’m sure you’ve had mouse to eat before so think of what their meat smells like.”

    Foster hoped teaching Casper wouldn’t be hopeless, and that he would actually help him learn something. The skinny tom didn’t seem to be the brightest or most helpful, but there could be potential in him, right? “I’ll give you a hint. There’s a mouse to our right in a large bush,” he whispered. “A couple of fox-lengths away. If you listen, you can hear him nibbling at something because when they eat, they make squeaky noises. Why don’t you watch me hunt one first, and then you can try. Take note of my hunters crouch and how I attack, okay?” Foster waited for the cream-colored tom to nod before he nodded back, pulling away quietly from his side. 

    All of his legs were crouched down as he slithered through the grasses quietly. Despite his large size, he was incredibly silent. His sage-green eyes narrowed as he sniffed out the exact spot the mouse was settled, his ears swiveled forward to keep listening in on its squeaking. When a mouse fell silent, that meant it could hear something, but this mouse was still squeaking away. Foster stopped about one fox-length away, peering through the green blades. He could see the mouse chewing on a seed from one of the flowers nearby, holding it between its tiny paws and its teeth biting quickly at the edges. Foster stayed still and quiet, gathering up the strength in his hind legs for the pounce. 

    “Eee!” The mouse let out a quick, but loud squeak when Foster pounced and trapped it between his front paws. He lowered his head and snapped the mouse’s neck and it instantly went limp. The rogue carried the mouse back towards Casper and dropped it as his paws. “See?

    #6288
    Feared
    Participant

    Casper ~ Rogue

    Casper slowly shook his head as he was questioned if he could smell the mouse, a slight frown rested on his muzzle as he felt slightly crestfallen that he couldn’t scent out the mouse that Foster wanted him to. Blue eyes flickered towards Foster’s face as he gave another small shake of his head. “No… everything smells the same.” He groaned, but his tone was still hushed as he gave a hesitate expression to Foster, although he didn’t exactly catch the flick of Foster’s tail to the right although Casper’s ear was twitching because he could hear the slight sound of something to his distant right. Casper listened in quietly to Foster explain what exactly it was that he was looking at, his ears instantly burning when Foster explained that the paw prints of mice didn’t really hold any smell like that of a supposed rabbit. Slowly he tongue trailed over the inside of his teeth, looking down at the small paw prints as the scent was described to him. “Yeah… yeah I know what that smells like.” He muttered thoughtfully, his usual facade slipping as he appeared to be concentrating, trying to absorb what Foster was telling him but he honestly was having so much trouble zoning in on the hint of the mouse being near.

    Chin lifted as Foster began to speak and give pointers once more, an instant frown gracing his lips when it was said there was a mouse nearby even! Quickly he cleared his facial expression as his blue eyes flickered towards the large bush in question, his dark brown nose giving a small wiggle as he breathed in the scents around him. The scent of dirt, the sour smell of the bushes leaves, the sweet scent of the pollen that hung heavy in the air during spring, scents he wasn’t even aware of wafted around, confusing his senses. Come on, Casper… focus! He chastised himself, ears standing at full attention as he tried to hear the soft squeaks that were being emitted from under the bush. “I hear it…” He whispered softly to Foster, although he seemed crestfallen when Foster explained that he would catch the mouse and Casper was expected to observe. “Okay..” He whispered softly, ears laying lightly back against his head as he looked towards Foster as the big cat moved through the grass almost effortless. Foster’s big paws barely made a sound against the tall blades of grass and the dirt, leaning forward he took two steps forward to watch the process, his blue eyes observing and studying. Foster seemed to keep his weight on his shoulders and momentarily on his haunches while stalking, it was noticeable but he wasn’t exactly sure how Foster accomplished such skills. He jumped in surprise when Foster suddenly leaped forwards, ears perking upright when the mouse let out a loud and terrified squeak. He stood up straight on his toes to watch how Foster snapped the neck of the mouse, with such ease. “So that’s how you do that…” He muttered quietly to himself, ears burning when Foster turned and walked the mouse to him, looking down at the fresh kill that was laying at his paws. “Yeah… I saw.” He replied with his eyebrows furrowed, he wasn’t sure if he could even catch a mouse. “How… how did you keep so quiet?” He questioned, lifting his head to gaze curiously at Foster.

    #6290
    Wolfstar
    Participant

    ~F O S T E R~

    The uncertain and curious gaze that his new companion was expressing shocked Foster. He had never in his life met another cat who truly did not know how to hunt even a mouse, or how to stay quiet. The brown tabby dropped the mouse on the ground. “I just…did,” he meowed back, tilting his head. “It’s almost instinctual. I kept my paws light and airy, like what I imagine stepping on a cloud would be like. I made sure not to step on any twigs or dried leaves so I wouldn’t scare it off. Other than that , it’s quite easy to be quiet seeing as we’re kind of all born with it.” He didn’t want to make Casper feel bad about not knowing how to hunt, so he tried to soften his words a little, but he knew the other tom was feeling a little bad about himself. “But it will definitely come with a little practice as well,” he quickly meowed, looking around hesitantly. The growls of Casper’s stomach made Foster’s ears twitch and he lowered his head to nudge the dead prey towards him. “You might think and feel better after a full stomach. You eat this and then we’ll go to the abandoned Twoleg…er…human den, and try again.” 

    Foster settled down on his haunches and rasped his tongue over his chest, although it did nothing to clean his dusty fur. What he needed was a good wash from rain or a river, but why waste time on cleansing yourself when you’re too busy having fun traveling? The rogue looked at Casper after a few moments of silence. “I don’t really come from a specific place, by the way. I don’t even remember where I was born or who my mother was. I’ve been on my own since as far back as I can remember, and I learned everything I know by myself. I’ve almost starved before, I’ve fought for prey, and I learned how to hunt different creatures on my own. So, if I can learn by myself, you’ll be able to learn from me. Everything will become instinctual soon.” He tried to sound optimistic, even smiling a little bit to show his positivity. It wasn’t like himself to be this friendly towards someone, but Casper very much interested him. He was like a puzzle that Foster needed to figure out, or a small kit that he needed to train before letting it go on its own to fend for himself. 

    #6302
    Feared
    Participant

    Casper ~ Rogue

    He could see how Foster was looking at him and he gave a slight shrug of his small and slim shoulders. “In the city everything smells the same. Like humans and filth. Plus you don’t have to be quiet because it’s mostly so noisy, so I’ve never had to really be careful.” He defended his honor as a feline as Foster pointed out that it was basically instinctive for a cat to know everything that he was lacking. Slowly a small sigh slipped from his lips as he knew that he wasn’t exactly impressing anyone with his lack of knowledge with how to stalk or even scent out a mouse. “Yeah… maybe some more practice will do me some good.” He muttered uncertainly, his stomach growling once again as he was reminded of just how hungry he was. Glancing down towards the mouse that was prodded in his direction his mouth instantly watering as the warm and earthy scent of the mouse clouded his senses. Fooooddddd. His stomach gurgled, dipping his chin in silent thanks to Foster before he lowered himself to the ground as he began to tear into the mouse. The sweet and warm juices and meat washed over his tongue in such sweet relief, eyes closing for a moment in bliss before he continued to tear the meat and sinew off of the bones to the catch.

    He ate in silence, unaware that Foster was watching him quietly, but his ears perked up and his chewing slowed when the older Tom spoke. Never knew your mother? He thought silently with a saddened tone, his own mother had been sweet and tender until the week he had to leave. Then she became distant and bitter, pushing him away as she needed to in order to ground herself away from her kitten as he was going to be going out on his own. Perhaps… forgetting your mother wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Casper muttered softly, he slowly roamed his tongue over his lips and muzzle in order to clean his pale fur of the blood. Blue eyes gazed up curiously at Foster, chin tilting slightly as he noted that the Tom was trying to make him feel better but all he could note was the harshness of life that this tomcat had gone through! Almost starving to death, having to teach himself how to hunt and fight for survival. This Tom was epic! “Woahhhh…. maybe there is some hope for me.” He grinned slightly, the action goofy looking as he gazed up at Foster.

    #6306
    Wolfstar
    Participant

    ~F O S T E R~

    The sound of Casper crunching on the bones and chewing the mouse meat made Foster’s mouth water, but he hid his own hunger. Soon enough, he would teach this young cat to hunt for himself and he would be able to eat as well. The younger tom’s expression almost made Foster chuckle with amusement. He was looking up at him with awe and wonder written on his face, a goofy smile forming on his lips. Foster shrugged and flicked the tip of his tail as if waving him off. “It’s not that big of a deal. Just how my life was and what I’m used to. Maybe I’ll tell you some more stories later on, but you first have to catch me a mouse so I can eat too.” If not…then I might have to find him a Twoleg that will take him in. A cat that couldn’t fend for themselves was best served in a nest with the tall, hairless creatures where it wouldn’t die. And Foster had to admit he rather liked this Casper fellow, and the last thing he wanted for him was death. The bedraggled rogue waited until Casper was completely finished before standing up and looking around. “First of all, bury your bones. Unlike the other rogues and loners in the area, I do not do well with leaving your trash out and about. It looks disgusting and…trashy.” Foster had heard the word trash from an old friend of his who lived with Twoleg’s, and liked the word quite well. 

    The brown-tabby waited for his companion to bury the bones before setting off towards the abandoned Twoleg den that was just a few hills over, away from the clearing he had pictured himself staying in. I didn’t smell a lot of felines in the area, but maybe it’s not the best place to stay seeing as they might come back someday. Foster was a great fighter, but if it wasn’t necessary to defend himself then why the risk? I’ll figure it out. He looked behind him at Casper. “Come on, keep up! You should be full of energy now that you’ve had some fresh meat in you. I’m hungry and demand to be fed!” He chuckled at his own tease and waved his tail at his new friend. “If I’m not fed by sundown, I will die and haunt you forever for not feeding me. You wouldn’t want that, would you? You’ll be sneezing all the time from my dusty coat.” Foster shook out his fur really quick with good humor before continuing his pace. 

    #6348
    Feared
    Participant

    Casper ~ Rogue

    The tip of his tail twitched with awe as he looked up at Foster, jaws grinding and chewing against the meat and bones of the mouse. Even though the meat was warming his belly, he was still slightly hungry, taste buds blooming with the taste of the mouse’s meat. This was a hundred times better than the taste of any garbage. Chin tilted slightly when Foster mentioned that he would only tell Casper more stories of his life if he could catch the older Tom a mouse. Another goofy grin soon found its way onto his muzzle before he gave a small nod. “Deal.” He instantly agreed, this tomcat was just too interesting! He had to hear more stories of this cats life! After finishing the meat of the mouse, he pushed himself into a standing position and was ready to follow Foster before the Tom instructed him to bury the bones of the mouse. His lips twitched with the question, but Foster had quickly answered the question. “Trashy? I didn’t think you rogues knew the meaning of that word.” He grinned in amusement, but he quick dug a shallow grave into the soft dirt, pushing the carcass of the mouse within the small hole before covering it back up once more. He had heard of forest cars doing such, but he had never buried the bones of a used meal. Straightening out his posture, he gave each one of his front paws a shake to get rid of loose dirt that stained his cream and tan paws.

    Foster was already beginning to walk out of the clearing, causing him to sprint after the messy tabby pelt with a skip in his step. Perhaps he had a chance at survival after all! He still wasn’t the most graceful nor quiet feline, but he was taking pointers. Casper’s steps were now lighter and his tail was held much higher to help with his balance. “I’m hurrying! I’m hurrying!” He squeaked after Foster, quickly catching up with Foster with a grin on his lips. “Geez, you sure are whiny when you’re hungry.” Casper pointed out, his tone good natured as he looked at Foster with silent amusement. Although, he felt anxiety claw at his chest, if he couldn’t catch a mouse with the older male leave him behind. Clearing his throat and his mind of his worries, he blinked in sudden surprise when Foster shook out his pelt and the dust flew. “Holy…. you need a bath, my friend.” Casper scrunched his small brown nose, looking at his own clean cream and tan pelt before he eyed Foster’s messy pelt. “I bet you would look younger with a clean pelt.” Casper snickered cheekily before his suddenly stopped walking, Foster’s pace had quickened but something had caught his interest. Now that he was paying attention and actually understood the sounds that he was hearing, he could barely just hear the small squeaks that could be heard through the grass. Pupils narrowed slightly as he eyed an old pile of dried leaves.

    He gave a small wave of his tail, stepping forwards slowly and pointedly, listening to the small squeaks that were still being emitted. He moved almost silently, his little paws placed right in front of the other while his tail waved excitedly in the air behind him. Although one of his toes pushed a small pebble to the side, causing the squeaking to pause and Casper felt his stomach drop to a pit. Quickly he jumped at the pile of dried leaves, but he couldn’t locate the mouse. The mouse must have slipped down a hole in the ground or ran to the side when he pounced. “Fickle sticks.” He cursed in annoyance, pouting as he sat there for a moment before he stood up and hurried after Foster. “I was so close.” He whined, his tail lashing with irritation. He was gonna catch that damn mouse sooner or later.

    #6389
    Wolfstar
    Participant

    ~F O S T E R~

    Foster grunted at the thought of having to clean his coat. “I’m only about eight seasons older than you! And it’s difficult to keep up with. I travel everyday and it gets dirty moments after I clean it all.” When he turned his head to continue speaking, he noticed Casper’s ears were perked and his nose was in the air. He smells something. The brown tabby paused his pawsteps, stiffening his muscles and listening intently. A small squeak made Foster relax, impressed the younger tom had heard the mouse over their talking. Maybe there was hope for him after all! He watched the cream-furred tom silently squirm away to stalk the tiny brown creature. His tail is waving around like a blade of grass in the wind! And he’s about to step on that pebble…he stepped on the pebble. The mouse skittered away from Casper, disappearing back into the tall grasses they had just come from. “Not bad for someone who’s never hunted before,” he meowed, shrugging his shoulders. “You were too loud. You’re great with stepping lightly on your paws, but you forgot about your swinging tail and to look where you step. If the pebble hadn’t given you away, your tail was about to hit the bush you’re right beside.” He pointed the tip of his tail to the holly bush to Casper’s left before turning around and leading the way to the abandoned Twoleg’s den once more. “Come on!

    The two toms padded in silence for the majority of the way. Foster’s objective was to get to the nest as quickly as they could before night fall so his new friend would at least have daylight to help him hunt. I wonder how far away he is from his former home. I highly doubt he traveled far. Even though Foster had the desire to settle down for awhile to relax, it was hard not to ignore the call to continue journeying. What was the fun in seeing the same sights forever? But it was getting lonely being on his own all the time, only having the wind, sun, and stars to speak to. There was the occasional friendly stray he could share prey with, but none of them suited his lifestyle. If the skinny tom following him could get strong enough, he wouldn’t mind it so much to have him join along. 

    Suddenly, his paws stepped into water and surprised him, making him gasp and take several quick steps backwards. Chills ran over Foster’s spine and his fur prickled at the back of his neck. A small, shallow stream ran at the bottom of the small hill they had just padded over, and he had been so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice it. It’s okay, it’s shallow. You can walk through it easily. Don’t worry, he thought, trying to calm his mind. Remembering his companion and feeling the curious stare boring into him, Foster cleared his throat and shook his head to clear his mind as well. “Sorry…it surprised me..Let’s keep going.” Not meeting Casper’s eyes, he hesitantly stepped into the water and bounded forward as quick as he could. He made it to the other side with ease, but he still felt shaken up. “Right. It’s just up this hill. Once we’re there we can catch a few mice, sleep, and then start a new day, okay?” Still not meeting Casper’s gaze, he continued up towards the hill, happy to finally be at the doorstep. 

    The den was not so large and made completely out of wood. The door and frame was still intact, but the wall to its right was caved in, crumbling into the room it used to cover. Not much was inside save for a table and some chairs as well as a fireplace that hadn’t been lit in many, many seasons. The floorboard creaked underneath his paw steps, but they were sturdy enough. Several squeaking noises were underneath the two toms and to their sides, and he could easily see tiny shadows skittering about on the backside of the den. “You have several mice to choose from,” he meowed to Casper happily, now completely recovered from his strange outburst. “Why don’t you try again, and this time make sure your tail is straight away from you and you see where you’re going. Go on now.” He waved his tail to excuse him, sitting down behind the still-standing door. 

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