current's slowly pulling me down; {open.}

[thundertanglewood]

it won't be too long and I'll be going under;

Rays of sunlight dappled the tom's fur as he slunk through the dense forest growth. The rays filtered in from breaks in the leaves high above him, leaves that had filled out from the spring. Spring was a time of renewal, Thunder Tanglewood knew that as well as any cat. Now it was summer, a time of relaxation and lazy days. The tom enjoyed summer, for the prey was plentiful in this forest which he frequented. It sometimes got a bit too hot, but then he would just retreat to the comfortable shade that the trees offered, or settle down by the banks of the stream; his current destination. But while all these things were good, summer also brought more of something he loathed more than ticks in his pelt: humans.

They would flock from who-knows-where, filing to the area by the carload. They'd fill the air with exhaust fumes and excited yowls, and what's more, they'd bring their even noisier children with them. Thunder's lip curled slightly at the thought. During these busy days, he would stay as far away from the town as possible, preferring instead to stay within the heart of the forest. Few humans ventured there, probably because they were scared of its density and how dark it could get at night. Humans were so mouse-hearted. To think they were a dominant species in the world infuriated the tom.

Thunder came to the the river, and finally slowed his pace to stand along its bank. The constant babble of the water as it rushed downsteam was comforting to him. Above, birdsong filled the air and added to the serenity. There were no humans here now, and it appeared as if it was just Thunder and the birds. That was okay by him.

He took a moment to glance into the water, just barely catching a glimpse of his reflection. His dark ginger fur was tousled, and stray pine needles were littered among his black stripes. Briefly the small tomcat remembered the days when his fur was always neatly groomed and brushed, shining in the sunlight. Nowadays he'd clean it only to have it end up like this again. That was the life of a street cat; you had to rough it. And Thunder knew he had grown to like it that way.

The Toyger tom suddenly felt a sharp pang in his left front paw pad, and he lifted up his paw to see a thorn portruding from the rough flesh. "Dung," he cursed under his breath. The tom lowered his muzzle to his paw and grasped the thorn in his teeth, heaving a breath before roughly yanking it out. Thunder hissed in pain and quickly stuck his paw into the stream, turning a small portion of the water scarlet as he let the wound bleed momentarily; waiting for the pain to ebb away.

can you save me from this?

[osprey]

Life isn't always the perfect thing, the thing everybody wants it to be. Nothing goes right all the time, each lifetime has to have some flaws. But, you can't deny that some are much more down-in-the-dumps than others. A few rays of golden sunlight blazed down from the fiery sphere in the sky, illuminating the small town once again. In one area, there was a busy market and a tidy human neighbourhood, nevertheless not too far away was a huge forest, dotted with the occasional pool and stream. The primary steam, however, winded down and around the area where a few felines could be spotted. The picturesque surroundings and the warm temperature made a perfect area for cats to stay for a while. The undergrowth also provided adequate shade for those who disliked the sun slightly less than others. One cat in particular weaved his way through the trees, his amber eyes to the ground, his long legs striding forwards, slow and rhythmic.

Perfectly hidden from eyesight in the shadows, Osprey made his way down to the stream, he had been there before, but not for too long. He was increasingly thirsty, and the water supply tasted clean there, fresh seeming. The charcoal cat shook his ebony coat, the warmth was beginning to get to him in the heat of the day, the stream wasn't a bad choice of a destination. He began to near it, his ears were alert and he picked out an abundance of individual sounds, but he paused. He was still far enough away not to be picked up by scent or sight, and he remained almost perfectly silent. Inaudibly, he rested his body down onto his haunches as thought for a moment. He had quite a lot of luck with the cats he had met already, especially little Lilly and Twilight. But, he considered whether it was worth going for. Well, he didn't need to speak to this cat. He wasn't going to be forced to interact. His mind made up, he slipped inaudibly from the undergrowth, and progressed whilst the cat was distracted with a bleeding paw. He bent down and licked up a few laps of water.

The inky black tom couldn't help his amber eyes from flicking over to the dark ginger tabby. Although, he managed to direct his attention away and glanced at his reflection. Examining himself, he sighed. All he saw was a semi-long hair black tabby with fluffy charcoal fur, sticking out in places. Not long enough to be handsome and officially long haired so it would flow, but not short enough to keep him cool and slick. Mud coated the pads of his paws, and his amber eyes looked tired and downhearted. He wasn't physically tired of course, just unhappy and dull. He boosted his confidence and approached the other tom. "You should try pressing something against that. Some moss, if you could find some." Osprey noticed that the wound hadn't stop bleeding. He turned his black head away slightly, embarrassed at approaching without an invitation.

[thundertanglewood]

there's a fear in me;

Thunder's tail lashed in frustration as he lifted his paw out of the water, only to find a fresh stream of blood trickling onto the bank of the stream. He would have thought his paw pads would be much stronger and able to heal themselves; he'd been out in the wild for months now. Surely long enough to grow tougher? Yes, but his pads didn't seem to want to comply with this. He'd certainly grown tougher in both mentality and physical attributes - because he had to. How else would he survive out here? Even the forest, as sheltered as it was, came with dangers. Many a cat would fall prey to a fox or some other predator, and one had to be swift and cunning enough to escape their untimely demise. Thunder was small and young, that much was true; but he made sure that others knew of his hidden strength and roughness. He wasn't as naive as some would come to assume.

Once more he jabbed his paw into the rushing stream, wincing a bit at each numbing throb of the wound. The young tom was so wrapped up in "tending" to his injury that he didn't hear nor smell the tom coming up beside him. The heavy scents of the forest masked the others', and so Thunder didn't even register another presence until a voice suddenly broke the Toyger's concentration. "You should try pressing something against that. Some moss, if you could find some."

Thunder nearly jumped out of his pelt. He lifted his paw from the water once more and swiftly turned his head to face whoever it was who'd snuck up on him like that. His eyes were wild and his fur stood on end; he looked insane for a moment longer before he began to calm down, studying the other tom. The black male looked to be about Thunder's age, so he wasn't concerned about being overmatched. This would be the first thing the dark ginger tabby always thought about first when he met someone: if this encounter ended up in a fight, what would he have to brace himself for? But Thunder couldn't detect hostility emanating from the tom, nor anything else that indicated whether or not he was a threat. He let his fur lay flat, but still his amber eyes were glossed over with wariness. Thunder did not, by any means, let his guard down easily.

He was silent for a heartbeat longer before he remembered that the tom had said something. "Er... moss, right," he began, nodding awkwardly. "Sure." Glancing around momentarily, he spotted a small clump of the green vegetation writhing its way around a nearby tree trunk. Casting periodic glances to the tom, he ripped a chunk of the plant off the tree and made a makeshift tourniquet around his bleeding paw. The wound still throbbed, but Thunder realized this was the answer to make the blood flow stop. "Um, thanks," he meowed curtly. What else was there to say?

it's not showin'.

[alcanderblackpaw]

Ivory and ebony tom trudged along, images coming and going out and into his mind... His father, his dreaded, torturous father, though deceased, always controlled his thoughts.

Right now, though, he seemed much more calm then he usually was... Perhaps the change of the climate? Before it was much more hot, but as he go into the shade of the trees that made a canopy over the path to the river, trodden down by many feline feet, he felt much more cooler and relaxed. He smiled, but it faded quickly when he heard and smelled other cats...

He was a friendly cat at heart, but his father wasn't very keen on letting him talk kindly to other cats. Encounters usually ended up with a fight, or the splotch tom getting a wound. Most of the time, though he tried to deliver them, he was the one who got the cuts and bruises.

Today, though, Alcander hoped he would have a chance on making some friends, if his screaming and screeching didn't scare them... Alcander lowered his head and watched the two toms, but was interrupted by a voice in his mind.

'Alcander... Why must you always try to be friendly?' The voice was his father's. An eerie, wretched hiss. Alcander, since he couldn't think in his own mind, replied aloud. He said through his teeth, "Why are you always trying to get me killed?"

Alcander rolled his blue eyes as he walked toward the two toms. He was either making a terrible mistake, or a chance for friendship. All he had to do was watch their lips... Why did he have to be born deaf? He was called so many names, all because of his disability. But with a disability, there is, most of the time, an unusual boost in another ability, and for Alcander, it was his sense of sight. He could see like a hawk, and he was very happy for this.

When Alcander had reached the two toms, he spoke to them in a soft voice. "Hello..." He couldn't say much more for now... His father wouldn't let him.

[osprey]

The stream continued to flow. It seemed endless, everlasting. It seemed that it would never stop flowing, not for the next few years to come atleast. A few feline figures were dotted around it, on the edges of the forest. Huddled in groups, constantly talking about anything and everything, or roaming on their own, flicking a stone across the floor with one long limb. It seemed the perfect day for getting out and about, it wasn't boiling hot but of moderate temperature, the sun was beaming down but there was a breeze to cool the population down slightly. It was slightly eerie how a trickle of blood stained the flowing water, a singular red line, snaking and weaving downstream. One ebony black cat lifted his fluffy head away from the sight. It wasn't exactly comforting to see all that blood. Osprey Coldenwing's amber eyes watched Thunder subtly, he didn't want to draw too much attention to him or his wound.

The charcoal tom groomed down his fur with his pink tongue, cleaning the muck from the matted curls. He gained no sucsess from his efforts, his pelt seemed just as bad as it was when he began. He picked up surprise as the dark ginger tom noticed him, he obviously hadn't seen Osprey coming. He curled his long tail round his paws, and sat down - not too far away from him. He concentrating on watching the stream flow instead of this new cat, he didn't want to appear hostile. Of course the inky cat had realized the tabby still wasn't completely relaxed, but Osprey couldn't blame him. The tom seemed new here, and the black cat had no reason to inflict a bad first impression. Completely at ease with his surroundings, he glanced up to the sky for a moment. It was a pretty shade of blue, but there were still a few clouds around. Osprey didn't let a smile creep onto his face. If it had, he wouldn't have been smiling inside.

One silky ear swivelled to the side of his cranium, there was another cat coming. Osprey tensed slightly, but signalled to the cat that he was alright to proceed. At the newcomer's hello, the pure ebony feline twisted around slowly until he was facing him properly. "Hey," he greeted the tom gently. He couldn't help noticing this stranger's blue eyes, they seemed to suit him. He couldn't stop his amber eyes flicking over the two over toms for a minute. They didn't seem to be showing any signs - however diminutive - of hostility. Yet.

[thundertanglewood]

my friend, this life we live, is not what we have;

Thunder let silence settle into the conversation as the other tom said nothing else. He was not and likely never would be the most sociable cat around, for he did enjoy his solitude. He would have been long gone by now if the black tom had appeared a threat to him, but so far so good. One thing about Thunder was that the fact that he traveled alone more often than not tended to show. He was awkward in conversations, and never really knew what to say. But why should he care if the conversation was good or not? He didn't mind the silence. He loved silence. If it turned awkward, he'd just brush it off. None of that really mattered. He'd been hardened by his time out here in the world, and he didn't hold much of anything to value anymore. He really didn't have much, except for his pride. His stupid pride.

Not to say he was full of himself. If that was the case, the tom's dark ginger coat would be glossy and full, or he would attempt to keep it that way. He didn't. He didn't care if he looked scraggly; that was how strays were supposed to look. No, Thunder rather prided himself in his strength: both mental and physical. For such a small cat - mistaken sometimes for a younger age - one wouldn't think he had any strength behind his skinny frame. If they wished to bring this up, they'd see why they were wrong.

A foreign scent suddenly filled the tom's nostrils, the scent of another cat. He smelled the other before he could see him, which was a lot more comforting than how the black tom had approached him. Thunder turned his head and fixed his icy amber gaze on the new tom, his fur splotched black and white. He said nothing in response to his greeting, only gave a small nod. To his relief, however, this male also didn't appear as a threat. Perhaps today claws would not have to be unsheathed.

it's what we believe.

[alcanderblackpaw]

Alcander looked over at the black tom, the one who he had seen speak.

"Alcander." He spoke quickly, then closed his icey blue orbs. He waited for something to be sent into his mind, but he opened them and heaved a sigh of relief when nothing came. "Alcander Black... Paw." He waited for a few seconds before saying the last part of his last name. So his father was letting up. How nice.

The blue eyed tom looked at the ginger tabby. "Nasty wound. Thorn?" Clover, Alcander's old mate, was pretty good with wounds and finding herbs to help with them and such. He could see the wound perfectly, and even if he couldn't, he could smell the blood coming out from it.

He looked at the black tom. He seemed like no threat, and he seemed younger than himself. Anyway, if he was a threat, Alcander could easily fight him off, with is father controlling his mind. But he probally wouldn't have to fight him off. Alcander was just getting used to not having to hear his father's voice when he heard that hiss.

'Uhm, what are you doing, Alcander?'

"I'm playing with two lovely kittens, aren't they nice?" Alcander spoke in a very, very soft, sarcastic voice.

'Oh, and I'm just a little fairy in your mind selling donuts.' Alcander rolled his eyes. 'If you want to be happy for a while, stop talking to these guys so nciely.' Alcander didn't listen, and shaking that thought from his mind, he smiled at the two toms.

OOC: Short... No muse for Al.;;

[osprey]

It's strange how rapidly things can change for example, it can be a glorious, sunny, humidly perfect day, and then a cloud can float over the sun, and rain can fall in bucketloads. In one moment, you could be sharing a delightful conversation with your best friend, and the next a car can zoom past, killing your friend for good. Also, it is spookuly quick sometimes how quickly a cat can grow skinny when he or she hasn't eaten for a while. Osprey's medium legnth charcoal black fur stuck out in messy clumps, clinging hopelessly to his skinny body. His ribs were clearly visible in places, and he obviously wasn't a very well fed feline. Although he hadn't been of perfect weight when arrived at Nenbrook, he hadn't had anything to eat at all throughout the last two days and he was gradually becoming thinner and thinner, which wasn't the perfect situation at the moment.

All the ebony black tom could do was dip his dark head in understanding as the other cat slowly pronounced his name. His mind was adrift, filled with bright and lively dreams of a perfect life, full of food, great friends, not to mention kittens. He snapped back to the pleasent. His life wasn't that good and it never would be. He had to get used to it. How was he meant to survive in a place like this if he could never focus on anything? His attention often floated from thing to thing, not taking any particular intrest in any singular subject. Amber eyes directed themselves to the ground, he had nothing else to say. He didn't want to participate in a lengthy conversation at the moment, and Alcander seemed busy enough talking to the ginger cat about his famous wound. How pathetic. He was fine, by the looks of it. Why did this black and white cat have to butt in on it? All Osprey had done before was give him some tips. But it was done now. End of story.

ooc:; Uh oh. Nasty Osprey's coming out.

[alcanderblackpaw]

OOC: What did Alcander do? ;;

[osprey]

ooc:; Sorry, I felt like making Osprey grumpy. He's in a bad mood for some obscure reason... So just ignore him, Alcander's fine. xD

[thundertanglewood]

it's not my time;

"Alcander. Alcander Black... Paw." Thunder's ears swiveled as the black-and-white tom spoke again, and the tabby lifted his amber gaze to rest on the newcomer; tilting his head slightly at the hesitation the tom gave over saying his own name. He offered a small nod again, and decided to speak - these two weren't going to hurt him, he was sure of it. But then, one could never be so sure, could they? By no means would Thunder completely open up to Alcander and the black-furred tom who had not said his name; but at least he could feel at ease for now. "Thunder," he meowed finally. Figuring it would look shady if he didn't state his last name, he continued, "Thunder Tanglewood."

The dark ginger tabby look then towards the unnamed black tom almost expectantly. In each encounter over Thunder's many days - though there were few, that was for sure - when introductions were being tossed about, everyone would participate. But the black tom, who had seemed sociable enough when he first approached Thunder, now had fallen strangely silent, and looked a bit put off for whatever reason. When he still said nothing, Thunder focused his attention on what Alcander meowed next.

"Yeah, thorn," he responded. He parted his jaws to say something else, but then realized there was nothing else to say. Thunder shifted uncomfortably. "It's uh... it's better, now." He winced noticably at the dumbness of his comment, shaking his head. Now Alcander and the black tom would find it obvious that he didn't hang around with others much. It wasn't that big of a deal, but still. He could have left out the obvious.

Thunder glanced back toward Alcander and saw the tom's jaws move as if he were speaking. Straining to hear, he only picked up tidbits: "lovely kittens" and "nice?". The dark ginger tabby blinked, wondering if whatever the tom had said was meant for him, or if he was only talking to himself. "What?" He asked, in case he was meant to hear it.

ooc; bleh, sorry, that's not a very good post on my part =P Ignore the grossness.

I'm not goin'.

[alcanderblackpaw]

Alcander looked over at the black tom. He seemed angry. Did he do something?

'Yes you did. Run.'

"Just because you said it makes me not want to do it now." He gritted his teeth, then looked up just in time to see the ginger tabby tom talking.

Alcander's eyes followed his lips, then he nodded. He smiled weakly, almost pathetically. It was the best he could do, though.

His eys darted to the black tom. He sure did seem grumpy... Maybe even angry. And maybe even more then that - hateful. Alcander decided to ignore him until he would loosen up, as Clover did.

His mind drifted to Clover. What would he have done if she hadn't died? If she was still alive? If his father hadn't been a bastardly murderer and killed her?

He would probably be with her right now. Probably would've had kittens. Alcander shook his head. He couldn't think of that. Not now.

He looked at Thunder, who had a suprised look on his face.

'Probably the kitten thing,' Alcander's father said in a mocking tone.

"Nothing, nothing. Just talking about kittens. To myself. Arent't they nice?" Alcander winced at the horrible excuse. They would definetly think something was up with him now. Kittens?!

'Kittens...'

"Yes, kittens." Alcander rolled his eyes after speaking softly.

ooc; CRAPPY POST! XD So short...

[osprey]

Osprey was sulking. Nobody knew why, but the black cat just sat there thinking of how bad life was and how idiotic everyone else was. True, he was having one of his 'classic' moments. His long, black tail curled around his paws, and then started drumming impatiently on the hard earth. This wasn't getting anywhere! How tedious. For the meantime, all he could do was spectate, watching the other cats slowly converse on about strange kittens, and whatever. He'd admit it, he did execute some half-hearted attempts at cheering up. They all failed miserably. Well, this cat was obviously being affected in a bad way by his current attitude towards this conversation. But why on Venus should Osprey care? He was just a random stranger after all. His face looked quite emotionless, but his body language partly showed his fustration. He was figeting about slightly, struggling to keep still as the other felines talked.

What was the black and white cat, (Alcander, was it) speaking again, under his breath. He didn't seem like he was saying anything incredibly nice either. "I'm sorry, did you say something," asked Osprey in the most polite tone he could muster. His voice sounded alright, well almost. It had a sharp edge to it, like he was swallowing something particularily sour as he spoke. The black tom tried to mask it by plastering a feigned cheerful smile across his face. Why on Venus was this cat talking to himself? What an irrational and quirky habit. Not good. He tried to avoid direct eye contact, especially with Thunder who he had initially spoken to quite cheerfully. Biding his time, he kicked a small round stone gently across the floor, scowling throughout his rapid motion. He was hoping nobody was watching him. Of course not. Why would they was to look at him anyway? He was just a boring old black cat. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"Kittens, huh?" Osprey's voice was more sarcastic than he had anticipated, and he pursed his lips in a slightly embarrased gesture before speaking again. "Well, they're not too bad. A little too energetic for my liking though." After he had spoken again, Osprey suddenly felt guilty as his mind drifted off to think about Lilly. How could he have said that about one of his closest friends? He was a monster. All of his aggresive feelings suddenly began to ebb away as he revealed the truth about himself. To himself.

ooc: Apologies about his behavior, again.

---

Admin's Note on August 25th: This thread is being locked and archived due to inactivity since Vion is now on hiatus and I haven't seen Mon around in a bit either. If at some point you wish to have it re-opened, let me know. For now though, we'll have to say that the conversation simply continued in its awkwardness for a short while.