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Post by Cloudbat on Sept 22, 2011 4:49:54 GMT -10
A ginger tom with a slow, drawling accent...lying together under the stars with the chirping crickets and the tumbleweed...tricking some arrogant pieces of fox dung who'd dared steal their prey...the pair laughed as the tumbled together in a play-fight, saturated with love.
Plovereye awoke slowly from the dream in her nest, yawning and stretching, her limbs spilling over the sides as her spine arched. It was chilly today, and she heard the noises of the dawn patrol chattering as they left.
The tabby heaved her old bones out of bed, and poked her head out, turning it so she could see everything with her good eye. Otterfur! Should she say hello? No, he looked busy, on the patrol, no doubt. Swallowpelt was beside him, licking his muzzle and (as he said some no doubt teasing remark) then smacked his shoulder.
He pretended to fall over, fake-choking, before springing up again and running off. The watching elder smiled...but it quickly turned to a frown as she remembered the dream.
Iacho...why hadn't it worked? Okay, it was partially her fault...but why had he become so impatient, so unreasonable? If he had just listened...things could have been fixed. They could have stayed a family.
But it did no good to dwell - besides, she had a family again. Maybe one day she could even visit Mouse. Feeling lonesome, she looked back around the elders' den. Sableheart was gone (odd, she rarely woke up this early) but No-ears was waking up now, too. She liked the eldest tom - he reminded her a bit of her former mate, except...more mature.
"No-ears, comrade." She said, smiling a bit at her formality. "I'm having retirement blues; would you mind indulging me in a walk?"
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Post by Rolo on Oct 8, 2011 7:33:56 GMT -10
No-ears had barely blinked away the tiredness of sleep when he was being asked a question. He didn't know whether to grimace, as he, Patchstorm, once would have done, or to laugh about it. In the end, when he turned to see Plovereye's formal smile and soft invitation, he decided to do a mix of both.
"Good morning, Plovereye," he purred good-naturedly, "A walk? I thought I'd excused myself from those when I became an elder."
He chuckled.
He staggered over in her direction, wincing slightly at the pain in his bad leg. "As much as I like the idea, it might take some time for my joints to permit me to take one. They're always difficult in the mornings, and there is such a chill in the air today."
He kept out all word of his decreased stamina. Ever since that gathering where he had lost his breath, he'd had some difficulty with getting it back. The increasing cold hadn't helped that either. He was sure it was nothing and that a good walk would benefit rather than harm him, but he decided that doing so early in the morning was likely to stress him out well.
"But don't you worry! We'll chase away those retirement blues soon enough. Or rather, I'll hobble after them persistantly and give them a good talking to! Fancy taking taking breakfast in the main clearing? I'm always a bit peckish in the mornings, so no doubt you are as well. I'll get some kind of herb from Crowflower later, and we can take that walk of yours, chill or no chill."
He brushed up against her in a show of friendly comfort. Although she was smiling stiffly and excessively formal, he could sense there was an element of sadness in her manner, and he wasn't a tom who could sit around and do nothing about it. She needed friendship, not the Oldest Elder, right now, and he'd provide it. Who knew, after filling his stomach with a nice bit of fresh kill, he might even summon up Patchstorm and amuse her with some dry humor! |
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Post by Cloudbat on Oct 9, 2011 16:30:18 GMT -10
A smile spread across her aged face and her shoulders relaxed. She was still so used to being formal, cool...like a good, stern she-cat of a noble age. Still, that didn't mean it was wrong to relax once in a while. As long as it was done properly.
"Perhaps you did. But I've recalled you to duty." The tabby said smoothly, but still with a hint of her smile.
Her expression morphed to one of sympathy as he explained his problem. She had joint problems, too - but nothing like his. Her main frustration with old age was that her pads cracked in cold weather. Speaking of which...she should visit Crowflower for some balm.
"Mmm, your point is fair." She said, nodding, though a bit disappointed. Was he not going to walk with her?
Then her fluffy tail curled up from the soft dirt in happiness. Such calm, cheery reassurance...Otterfur was a good cat, but even he...no one...since Iacho. Oh, No-ears. Such sweet sorrow you bring me.
Purring, she rubbed against his cheek, just a little, then drew back, whiskers twitching in a soft smile. "I do fancy it, indeed. Coincidentally, I need to visit him as well for some pad balm. And my walk shall be taken, and we shall share it, no? The chill will be punished severely." She said, mock-frowning. "We shall show it that age does not conquer us!"
Mmm, her humor wasn't very...funny. But Plovereye wasn't very good at funny. Still, she enjoyed intelligent, sophisticated company, and there was no doubt in her mind that the earless elder would provide that.
Turning and stepping into the bright, cold morning, she breathed in the crisp, fresh air in anticipation of an enjoyable day.
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Post by Rolo on Dec 9, 2011 15:05:07 GMT -10
No-ears chuckled naturally, as if the joke had really tickled him. Yes, she hadn't been particularly comical, but No-ears knew nothing bad came of laughing at a well-intentioned joke, especially from one who attempted it so little. That wasn't to say that the emotion was forced, not at all, after all, seeing her formality begin to fall away and feeling her cheek against his, that was enough to warm his heart. He was a cat that derived great pleasure from seeing others grow, achieve and find happiness, and though Plovereye's act.
"Ah, I'm back on duty, am I?" He purred, a playful look pasting itself on his face, "In that case, can we go and get into a boarder skirmish? Or climb some trees? I could do with a good old warrior mission to get the blood pumping these days."
He smiled to himself, remembering all those brilliant days in which he had served his clan. He couldn't claim he hadn't had a good run, or that he hadn't enjoyed it.
"But no, we should focus on getting breakfast and fetching those herbs and then amble off somewhere nice. Tooth and claws are useful tools, but I believe I'm past being able to use them. Besides, I'd much rather use my tongue and mind to punish that frosty wind of yours instead!"
And with that, he drew himself up awkwardly onto his paws and hobbled forward as quickly as he could. He was immediately aware that his walking - or rather limping - speed had got even worse, and he was immediately struck with a sense of embarrassment. As he made his way past Plovereye, he had to work hard to keep his head held high and his ears relaxed.
He didn't even just look old, he looked weak. He was pretty sure a snake could slither faster than he was walking right now.
And he'd just promised Plovereye he'd walk with her. And she'd have to walk painfully slowly, dragging behind, the entire way. The idea was very hard to bear.
Knowing she'd be watching him, watching his pitiful movement towards the fresh kill pile, he pushed himself forth harder. It hurt, but it wasn't as painful as the shame he felt being so vulnerable in front of his fellow clanmate.
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Post by Cloudbat on Dec 13, 2011 10:08:16 GMT -10
The face the elderly she-cat was making would be difficult to describe in words; it was an odd mixture of confusion and amusement. "Right, and I'll grow some wings while you go do that." She said dryly, but with a smile on her face.
How well he weeded out the snarky, defiant self of her younger days! It was silly of her to compare him with Iacho, she knew...yet he reminded her of him, just for a few seconds. Then she flicked her ears and scolded herself. Plovereye, you idiot. You're an elder, not a moon-eyed apprentice hounding her first crush.
She took another few careful steps (for her pads truly were dry, especially in this nippy air) and then stopped stock-still again to huff, amused, at his comment, rolling her good eye. Normally, she deplored such a lapse in decorum for herself, but it wasn't too disruptive - and No-ears really was amusing. The fluffy maine coon mix gazed at his distinctive orange-and-white head, biting back a grin as silly as a fox's.
She stopped her careful walk into the bright morning, head cocked and white-and-brown tail swishing as her amber eye noted his own seemingly painful steps. Yet the way he held himself made her think he was embarrassed, which puzzled the senior PineClanner. What was there to be embarrassed about? They were elders; there probably wasn't an elder alive who didn't have a disability of some sort. Was he trying to put up a front of toughness? She smirked to herself. Toms. Even at his age, they were all the same.
Elegantly as possible, she strode up smoothly to join him, nudging him and giving the old tom a quizzical yet amused look as she sat, bending down to nip the feathers off a plump robin.
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