Ask to Join A Noon on the Border

Tiptoe through the murk and mire
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Duskpaw had been moving through the brittle undergrowth, his paws stiff with cold and his tail low against the wind that cut through the trees. He wasn’t hunting. His mind wasn’t focused enough for that, but the movement kept his limbs from locking up. Kept him from thinking too much.

Then the scent hit him. His fur bristled before he even saw her, his steps halting as his breath misted in the air. He had learned, in the worst way, that scent alone could tell him everything. That scent had been sickly sweet with decay, but this one was just off - whoever it was they still didn't belong. He lowered his body, ears pricked, as his sharp blue eyes locked onto the strange shape against the snow.

At least she wasn’t dead.

She stood out like a sore paw against the snow, her lilac-spotted coat too pristine, too delicate for this place. And yet, there she was, staring down at a half stunned mouse like she didn’t know what to do with it. His hackles smoothed, but not completely. 

Duskpaw stepped closer, his voice cutting through the cold. "It’s prey." He watched the way she pawed at the snow, the hesitation in her stance. A cat who didn’t know what to do with blood on her paws. No way was she the killer. His whiskers twitched, but his stare remained flat. "You eat it."

Grace is effortless when born into it.

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Laetitia's ears perked, while the snow was fleeting, it did make a crunching sound when stepped on. Laetitia suddenly heard pawsteps that were not her own and the fur along her tail bristled until it was fully fluffed out. She had asked of information on wild cats before, her mother had told tales of fowl beasts without class. She could be killed by one of these wild cats.

At the sound of a voice she straightened up with hackles raised in a... frankly pathetic attempt to scare off the stranger. But her eyes locked onto him for a moment, he was no different.. in shape anyway, to herself, he was a tone muscled cat but still long bodies like herself. But he held no comforting scent of home, so she was certain that he was a wild beast with ill intentions.

However, he seemed calm... strangely calm for an aforementioned 'beast' of a cat. "I'm supposed to eat it?" she pawed at the limp creature for a moment, the scent, as it was when she first saw it, was mildly appetizing but biting through flesh would have been something entirely different than what she was used to. "But was it was just running at me, non? Wild cats... kill to eat?" 

There was a hind of condescension in her voice but she soon realized it and looked away for a moment "Désolée, I did not mean to sound so... boorish, or perhaps condescending would be a better word. Regardless you have my apologies"

Tiptoe through the murk and mire
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Duskpaw stared at her, unimpressed. His tail flicked once but otherwise he didn’t move, letting the silence stretch between them as she stumbled over her words.

She looked disgusted. Not just at the mouse, but at herself - at what she had said, at where she was... at him. His ear twitched again. She didn’t know what she was talking about, but at least she had the sense to realize it.

"Yeah." His voice was flat. "Wild cats kill to eat. Prey runs, we catch it, we kill it, we eat it. That’s how it works." He wasn’t sure why he was explaining it to her. It was obvious, wasn’t it? Even kittypets had to know that much.

He watched her, waiting. If she actually took a bite that would change things. She wouldn’t just be some lost, confused outsider...She’d be a threat, a mouth stealing from his Clan. And then, he could do something about it.

But she didn’t. She just stood there like the whole idea unsettled her. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. His claws stayed sheathed, but his posture stayed stiff.

"If you’re not gonna eat it, then what are you doing here?"  The corner of his mouth curled, not quite a sneer, but something close.