off her game [open]

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Night lay heavily over the thick, choking forest, bathing the world in utter darkness. No moonlight peeped in through the gaps in the leaves; no starlight twinkled brightly above. For all intents and purposes, there was no light.

Not so for a warrior of BrushClan. The slender ginger she-cat slipped carefully through the thick underbrush, picking her way around close-knit brambles, squeezing through gaps in close-growing trees. Bright orange eyes were closed to the world, for what did it matter if she looked or not? She would see nothing more than flashes of color, and she was not yet in position to hunt an unwary rabbit.

Vixenfang followed the gurgling of Tanglecreek, her throat parched from an afternoon of hunting. She was not on her game tonight; one squirrel and one bird, buried closer to camp, were all she had to show for her efforts. Distracted by those thoughts, she bumped headfirst into a tree. "Mousedung!" she hissed loudly--a fluttering of wings and chittering of squirrels rose up in response as the prey fled from her. "I'm better than this!" After lapping up a bit of the cold water of Tanglecreek, Vixenfang turned back to gaze into the depths of the thick forest, bright orange eyes glowing for all to see.

Even so, there was always an unfortunate animal with its back turned. The red blob was about the right size to be a squirrel, and a sniff of the air confirmed it. Vixenfang crept forward, eyes locked on the little creature. It was impossible to be silent in the depths of BrushClan territory, even for a BrushClan warrior. A snapped twig alerted the squirrel to her presence, and at once Vixenfang shut her eyes tight, so as not to give herself away.

Now she listened. The squirrel chittered, rustled the bushes, but did not run away--it had not seen her. Vixenfang waited until its movements returned to normal. She opened her eyes briefly, caught sight of the creature, and sprang forward swiftly, before it got a second chance.

"Gotcha," he murmured as she snagged the squirrel between her claws. It was nothing more than a piece of freshkill after a quick bite. "Well, it's something," she sighed, raising her head to search for another.

Word Count: 375
Tags: open
Comment: sorry, I wrapped it up pretty badly

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Two small orbs of aqua light danced among the trees, moving in and out of underbrush, followed by a flash of bright cream, before the two orbs appeared in another bush. As it dashed into another bush, its short, agile body and strong leap was visible. It dove into the undergrowth, poking its orbs out again as it peered at a ginger cat caught up in hunting.

A small tail wagged with anticipation as it silently flew from its bush to one closer to the other cat, ears flattened and tail down. This cat was obviously a skilled hider, and luckily the wind blew its rather flavorful scent not towards her prey but the opposite. As her eyes locked on the ginger cat she prepared to leap, sticking her rump in the air and kneading the ground in front of her with her paws.

But who was the hunter? None other than Thinstar, the leader of BrushClan. The only noise picked up by her sensitive ears was her own breathing, though it was so soft that she herself found it barely audible. The small figure easily blended in with the area surrounding her, her bright fur hidden in the shadows of the bush. A skilled camouflage as well as hunter was the leader of BrushClan. She sat, intent, waiting for the right moment to strike the cat in front of her.

A ripple of amusement shot down her pelt at her warrior's actions. Mouse-brain, with a whine like that you'll scare all the prey from here to CliffClan! The leader was tempted to say this, though she was keeping silent for the surprise attack she was preparing to perform in just a few moments. Until then, a still statue sat in the bushes, ready to pounce at any sign of movement. Keen on this cat as if it were prey itself.

[{Seal}]

At long last, the night seemed to be going her way. After scraping a few fallen leaves over her squirrel, she had the good fortune of snagging a gray mouse and a small, unwary brush rabbit. By the time she buried the rabbit, Vixenfang was practically brimming with confidence. She felt like an apprentice on her very first successful hunt, her tail curling in pleasure as she realized her Clan would have plenty to eat in the morning.

This cheerfulness lasted a full few minutes as Vixenfang sat beside her catch of freshkill, bright eyes closed as her ears swiveled back and forth to catch the sounds of the forest. An owl hooted several fox-lengths away; a squirrel chittered in one of the tall trees, well out of her reach. Other than that, she caught no sound of prey, and why should she? The scent of dead animals had no doubt alerted every prey animal of her existence, and Vixenfang knew she needed to get back to camp soon--one of the first thing BrushClan apprentices learned was never to let their freshkill lie around the forest for too long. Too many foxes and owls roamed BrushClan territory.

With a regretful sigh, the ginger she-cat opened her eyes--and caught her breath. Several rabbit-hops away, hidden in the depths of a bush, sat a large red blob. Vixenfang narrowed her eyes to slits, so as not to show the creature any more of her glowing eyes than she had to, and went perfectly still. Only the very tip of her tail twitched as she stared and listened, barely daring to breathe. She sniffed the air slightly, but could catch no identifying scent--she was upwind of the creature.

At once, Vixenfang's mind shifted to the announcement her Clanmates had made a few moons ago--several foxes had moved into the territory. The blob before her was plenty large to be a fox. I'll show you a thing or two, vermin, she thought, fury sending adrenaline shooting through her body. It took every ounce of self control to keep from springing at the fox immediately, but she crouched low, muscles taut, and waited.

The red blob didn't move. Eyes so narrow they were nearly closed, Vixenfang lashed her tail from side to side, drew her lips back, and released a low snarl. "You think you can just move into our territory!" she hissed, unsheathed claws digging into the ground. "Come on, coward. Fight!"

Word count; 408
Comments; needless to say, she thinks Thinstar is a fox ^.^

[{ T H I N N Y }]

Finally, the warrior seemed to notice the small cat hiding in the bush. She shifted position slightly, kneading the ground more as to get a good stance and grip on the ground if she needed to. As she stiffened and narrowed her eyes, the leader's ears perked forward, prepared. At the warrior's outburst it took all of the small cat's energy to keep from breaking out laughing on the spot. The warrior thought she was a fox!

Yelling at the fox won't do you much good. The thought prickled through her mind, a very large smirk, to the extent of what a smirk could be on a cat, placed on her small face. Apparently, the leader had fantastic acting skills.

Well, it had been fun, but she didn't want any blood shed over a silly prank she pulled. Swallowing down a laugh, she said in her particularly amused voice, "If I was a real fox I would have taken your prey by now." I stepped out of the bush, stretching, eyes gleaming with victory as I looked at--well, up to the warrior.

Note: Sorry for the insanely short post!

[{Seal}]

Muscles tense as bowstrings, Vixenfang waited for the fox to attack. She sheathed and unsheathed her claws, heart beating rapidly as her tail lashed in anticipation. Oh, how she would love to dig her fangs into that fox and never let go! Her near-unbreakable bite was well-known among all the cats, and she would make it well-known among all the foxes, too! So it was that, when the blob moved, Vixenfang was so focused on attacking that she didn't even hear the calm, amused words--all she saw was a fox moving toward her. Snarling in fury, the slender warrior threw herself forward, claws stretched out to attack the...cat. Vixenfang's snarl turned into a startled yowl as she changed course mid-leap, waving her tail wildly and twisting around so that she landed in an ungraceful heap before the cat.

Panting for breath as her adrenaline receded into her body, Vixenfang pulled herself to her paws and got her first good look at the "fox." Skinny, small body, cream-colored fur, and bright aqua eyes...she had nearly attacked Thinstar herself! "Thinstar!" she exclaimed, springing back several mouse-lengths as she sheathed her claws. "I nearly attacked you!" She was too horrified to wonder why Thinstar had been sneaking around in the first place--if she had thought for a moment, she would have realized this was as much Thinstar's fault as it was hers. "I thought you were a fox," she explained needlessly--had she not made what she thought perfectly clear when she snarled?

I could have hurt my leader... she thought in horror. Thinstar was a perfectly confident fighter, but no doubt she wouldn't have expected Vixenfang to attack--she would have been caught off-guard, and who knew how long it would have taken for Vixenfang to realize what she was doing? She was, after all, nearly uncontrollable when battle fury took over her.

Now that the surprise was fading away, Vixenfang allowed herself to settle down. She licked her shoulders, flattening her bristling fur, before glancing back at her leader sheepishly. "At least you know your warriors are ready for foxes, huh?" she teased halfheartedly, still horrified about what might have been. What was she doing sneaking up on me, anyway? How was I supposed to know she wasn't a fox? she defended herself sharply, although this, too, was halfhearted.

Word Count; 388
Muse; not the best
Comments; nadda

[♥--Tilly]

Russetclaw

The darkness wrapped its claw about the fiery figure of the tom as he crept through the undergrowth, the undergrowth dragging along his soft underbelly. The scent of vole wafting into his nostrils, he trotted over to the base of a tree and set the limp creature upon the forest floor, scraping some loose earth over the freshkill. His nose twitched as the dirt clouded around his face but the tom made no move to escape its choke, he simply steered his body in the direction of somewhere else to hunt a little ways away from where he’d caught the vole in order to attempt to find another few pieces. His tail twitched slightly at the tip but other than that his movements were eerily stiff. His broad shoulders pushed through the brambles, not bothering to wince as the thorns connected with his flesh. His form seemed to move as if the forest was in tune with him, although there was a slight shuffling and disturbance amongst the brush, he was mostly silent.

The russet colored tom’s aqua eyes slipped over the shadows, taking in the broken orange shapes in the distance, they were either clanmates or predators. Russetclaw approached briskly but cautiously, his vision narrowing to slits as he approached them. The wind blew in his direction, so his scent would go unnoticed to whatever the creatures were. Then he caught the scent of the shapes and instantly a smirk lit up his feature, a malevolent spark captured in his bright eyes. Thinstar, his leader, and Vixenfang, his sister. The powerful warrior strode forward, his ears twisted towards the conversation, catching the words of the conversation. Russetclaw’s large frame intentionally snapped a twig underfoot, hoping to draw their attention to his red fur, large stature, and sneaking nature; he took up the role of the fox they were discussing.

With his head lowered, his shoulders rolled the coarse red fur rustled over top them. His eyes slammed shut, hiding the aqua depths from his clanmates, hoping to remain in the rendition of the fox. The actor kept on his mark as he slipped around the clearing, drawing slowly closer, and keeping his strides lengthy to model the tall, lengthy figure of a fox that more so resembled a GrassClan cat than it did a BrushClan one. Although, Russetclaw was no average looking BrushClan cat considering he was much larger than his other clanmates. His muscles rippled as he drew his circle in closer, moving a speed that was fast enough to attract attention. The branches around his feet stirred and the twigs and leafs crunched underfoot. Then, he opened his eyes and turned them upon the two she-cats.

He then hurled his body from the bushes, his red form jutting towards the bright shapes of the two. As he landed, the vegetation scattered about him, and immediately he sidestepped as if to avoid any surprise attacks that might come his way. “Why hello there,” He mewed, his gruff voice slipping forth into the dark of the night, “I earnestly hope you don’t mind my intrusion.” Something twanged across the blood-red face of the tom, something dark and dangerous, but something that strengthened the clan that he was so passionate towards. Behind the surface of his aqua eyes lurked a quiet evil, awaiting the fury of battle to unleash itself in defense of his most treasured item, his clanmates. The burly tom was a force to be reckoned with, and his clanmates for the most part knew that clearly. The ambitious and vicarious light he harnessed only added to his hungry and cold nature.

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