Closed Thread 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.

Grace is effortless when born into it.

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Laetitia's pale green eyes narrowed slightly, she didn't pick up on a lot but she could definititly notice how unamused the tom was that she was even in his presence in the first place. While wild cats didn't seem to be vicious monsters, at least not this one, they certainly didn't have any respect for her. With a sigh, she stood up tall, giving her long, delicate legs a few licks to clean them, her movements calculated and mediated to be polite and poised.

"I am here on an expedition of exploration" she explained, twitching the tip of her long-furred, silky tail "as well as getting out of the manor for a short while. Mon frère, Lelouch has taken it upon himself to watch the manor in my absence" Laetitia explained with a sense of pride in her gaze, this cat was an interesting sort, not all of what he had hidden was revealed in how he acted, but he sure did have an acrid smell to him. 

Laetitia paused for a moment, lowering her head for a moment "Despite me not telling him I had left" she whispered to herself, a bit of embarrassment in her tone for a moment before she moved her pale green eyes towards the pointed tom's blue ones, they seemed to catch the sunlight in a way that was almost, fascinating. "It's  intéressante, you take the time out of your day to take hunt for little creatures to eat instead of allowing assistants to feed you, more effort for less profit"

"Unless there is profit that I have not heard before?"

Tiptoe through the murk and mire
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Duskpaw’s ear flicked, his patience thinning as she spoke like this was some sort of game to her. Expedition of exploration? What kind of cat said things like that? She was acting like she had a choice in this...like she wasn’t just some lost kittypet straying too far from her safe little nest.

His whiskers twitched when she mentioned her manor, her brother, her assistants. Everything about her felt like she belonged in another world entirely. And she did. He should’ve just chased her off already, but the longer she talked, the more obvious it was...She was just... wrong. Like a bird trying to swim.

"You don’t get it." His voice unimpressed. He should’ve known better than to expect her to. "You think it’s ‘effort for less profit’? You think we hunt for fun?" He shook his head, snorting. "If we don’t hunt, we don’t eat. If we don’t eat, we die. That’s the profit - living another day."

He held her gaze, blue eyes unblinking. "Nobody’s gonna bring us food. Nobody’s gonna clean our fur or tuck us into some nest lined with kittypet fluff. We take care of ourselves, or we don’t make it." His claws flexed against the cold ground, but he didn’t unsheathe them.

"So..." He half mewed, half growled, dragging her name out slow, testing the way it felt on his tongue. "You don't belong here... You don't want to be here. There's a killer around and you wouldn't last a second - obviously." He stressed, indicating to the mouse on his back, before he pointedly retrived the fresh kill in his maw. He'd have to check the contents of this creature's stomach just to be sure - no way it could have just walked into her claws.

Grace is effortless when born into it.

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Laetitia's pale green eyes narrowed in a pointed look that she had never made before, and hardly believed she was making. He was treating her as if she was an imbecile, as if she knew nothing, if she knew nothing about clan life, it was not fault of hers. "You're right I don't, but that doesn't mean I can't, I'm sure before you are how you are now you had no idea what any of this meant" she shot back, twitching the tip of her spotted tail but she surprisingly showed very little aggression, it seemed more-a-less sassy if anything.

For a moment, Laetitia fell silent, this stranger's world was completely different from her own. It was gratifying to know that these wild cats really did live in an entirely different world to her own, and she just outright disrespected it without a second thought. The lilac spotted she-cat dipped her head as if in a surrender or an attempt at a sincere apology. "Our paws walk different worlds, Monsieur. To think otherwise was a foolish thought" she replied, lowing her body into somewhat of a bow before standing again.

Laetitia didn't appreciate the stranger placing words into her mouth, but then he spoke of a killer. How farfetched as it seemed to her, she certainly learnt her lesson on assumptions, especially with this cat in particular. "I may not want to be here" Laetitia's reply came a with a little less conviction, but more-a-less a lot more acknowledgement. "And I would not last a second by myself" she repeated Duskpaw's words in agreement with a flick of her tail.

"But, Monsieur, survival is a taught skill past the first few months of life"

Tiptoe through the murk and mire
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Duskpaw blinked. Not in surprise - more like he was trying to decide if she was actually worth listening to.

He hadn't expected her to argue back. Not in that way. She didn’t bristle, didn’t lash out like some lost kittypet with a bruised ego. Instead, she accepted it, even bowed her head like she actually understood. He wasn’t sure if that made her smarter or just more frustrating.

He set the mouse down and scraping dirt over it with a paw. His ears twitched as he considered her words. Yeah, it was taught. That didn’t mean just anyone could learn. "And you think you could just... pick it up so easily? You’re right about one thing - our paws walk different worlds. But mine isn’t one you just step into because you feel like it. Survival isn’t just a skill - it’s instinct. And you don’t have it." His blue eyes held her pale green ones, unblinking. "You can’t teach someone to be a wild cat, just like you can’t teach a fish to climb a tree."

He shook his head, stepping back as he tested her strange words on his own mouth. "You should go home. Before your fancy 'mun fair" realizes you’re gone and sends someone looking for you. Or before something else finds you first."

Grace is effortless when born into it.

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Laetitia after waiting to hear Duskpaw's words, held her head high with a hint of defiance in her gaze. He was so bold to assume that she wanted to be just like him, that she wanted to change her life for something she knew nothing about, that she would give up her life that he knew nothing about just to fight for her right to survive in a cold, and aforementioned dangerous forest just to witness a day of survival.

"You believe, after what you have told me that I would want to learn your ways? Absurde. I told you why I was here and you still assume I expedite to do whatever it is that you do. I prey I never have to." She flared her nostrils as she scoffed out her foreign lilt, though there was no real anger in her eyes, there was a fighting spirit deep within them. "You say instinct is something that I do not have but it seems you need you definition redefined entirely" she flicked her ears, her eyes now portraying a calm demeanor.

"A fixed pattern in response to stimuli, that is what instinct is, all are born with it, but some, like myself, have not experienced what one would call... near death experience to encompass it" she added, her fur didn't so much as bristle in her explanation and her words held no real bite to them, even when she imagined herself scolding the crass blue tom. "An instinct to survive is something we all have, but some of us do not need to equip it. however you have my respect, whatever it means to you, for whatever you do for the cats you serve."

The lilac spotted she-cat took another bow to the ShadowClan apprentice, for all that it was worth, she did admire him, but there was something about how he explained his lifestyle that she knew he wanted to sound unappealing to her, and in all honesty, he can keep his silly wild cat struggles. "It is pronounced, mon frère" she replied, shooting the tom a look of intrigue for a moment before disappearing into the underbrush.

Tiptoe through the murk and mire
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Duskpaw exhaled sharply through his nose. Not quite a snort, but close. At least she wasn’t pretending anymore. She didn’t want his life, and he sure as fox dung didn’t want hers. That was fine. Good, even. The last thing he needed was some wandering kittypet getting ideas that would only get her killed.

Still, she had nerve. Not a threat, not a challenge just this unshakable confidence that made her words feel heavier than he expected. When she mewed that she respected the blue smoke tom, an ear twicthed, but ultimately said nothing. He didn’t need her respect and didn't care to have it. And yet, the words settled strangely in his chest, like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

He watched as she bowed again, that same bizarre, elegant gesture that made her look even more out of place in the dark, tangled marsh of his territory. When she corrected his pronunciation, he only flicked his tail in response, expression unreadable.

And then she was gone, vanishing into the underbrush like a ghost of some far off world. Duskpaw let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. "Weird." He muttered to himself, scraping dirt off the mouse before picking it up and turning back toward camp. Someone else could eat this particular fresh kill.

Whatever. She wasn’t his problem anymore.