Ask to Join Blood is Better

Frost-kissed fur hides a fiery spirit
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Rimepaw slid low along the camp wall belly fur brushing dust, mismatched eyes narrowed with intent. If any cat had asked she was totally supposed to be with checking the camp walls for weaknesses alongside Finchpaw but no one was asking. She left Finchpaw to deal with the mundane, lame tasks that distracted her from what really mattered.

Gingerthrash was old, yes, but old like a fox with teeth still sharp. The kind of elder who could still cuff you good if you got careless. Wildcry might not have approved testing the boundaries of her ornery uncle, but maybe if she impressed she could hear one of the stories he liked to spit about.

Her steps were slow and deliberate, her tail held stiff and balanced just the way Wrentalon had shown her. The tom was settled there in the sun but seemingly never fully off guard. That was why this was worth doing. She eased another pace closer her breath measured, every muscle ready.

Then without lifting her voice above a murmur she tested him with a low taunt.

"If you can hear me breathin' from over here..." She whispered, a slow grin tugging the corner of her mouth,. "Ya haven't gone soft yet." Her stance remained half coiled. Umabashed and eyes bright without fear of reprimand.

She dared him to catch her in the act.

Frost-kissed fur hides a fiery spirit
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Rimepaw didn’t flinch under the sharp look. If anything her grin sharpened. "That’s funny." She meowed lightly, easing out of her crouch but not losing the ready coil in her legs. "Cause I heard cats stiffen up when they die." A shrug, nonchallant.

She flicked an ear toward the camp walls, giving a s,ight nonverbal indication that she should be busy. "My side of the wall’s done. Seems strong enough to me and not a hole wider than a toe length." A dismissive lash of her tail. It wasn't like she was needed there anyway.

Then her tone shifted. "Wrentalon showed me somethin’ new last moon. Climb balance-spring. Said it’s better to hit from above if you want the fight over fast."

She stepped sideways just enough space to demonstrate if he said yes, just enough closeness to accept correction if he didn’t. "So I wanted to show you. Maybe ask if you were taught anything similar."

Frost-kissed fur hides a fiery spirit
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At his prompting, Rimepaw moved fast.

She bolted two strides, claws hooking bark as she ran straight up the low side of the elders’ den’s hollow trunk. Her hindlegs kicked, catching a wedge in the rotten wood that pushed her even higher. She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t look back to see if he was watching. She knew he was.

She launched from the den’s curved roof to the thin sapling beside it. It bowed under her weight and momentum of her spring. The silvery tawny she-cat rode the drop, claws biting to hold as the trunk dipped low with stored force.

Then she let go!

The sapling snapped upward and she shot off it like a thrown stone, twisting midair to tuck her paws and angle her landing. Not claws out and not directly throwing herself at him. But the angle and the speed of her trajectory would have come close to nailing his tail tip. And climbing...she loved climbing.

When she landed dust puffed around her pads. Close enough he’d know she could have knocked him off his paws if it was real. Satisfied with her demonstration her head craned to the side, odd eyes wide and expectant.