Which Way the Wind is Blowing

[Fireflake]

Buckleap the Loner

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A brown-and-white tabby tom padded across the grass, looking around periodically. His white paws moved without thought. The grass blades around him were almost like whiskers, telling him where everything was. Everything except for one thing. He kept walking. There was no way he was going to miss it. A red Twoleg nest couldn't exactly blend into a field.

He had no idea how reliable the information was-- the cat hadn't even been talking to him-- but the loner had heard there was a kittypet often in the barn that knew things. Better to try that than risk running into a MistClan patrol and ruining any chance of joining those cats, he figured. Approaching the other clans directly hadn't gone so well. He had been chased out of MothClan's territory and gotten stuck in the woods were IvyClan lived already.

Now, this cat he'd overheard had said something about a river. It might have been a better idea to find the river first, but he didn't want the sound of gushing water in his ears all the way there. It was a sound he'd get used to and drown out after a while, of course, but he'd still prefer to listen to the rustling grass. Buck paused for a moment. He couldn't scent MistClan borders nearby, so he guessed he was alright to keep walking. Then again, there wasn't much of a breeze to carry scents at the moment.

As soon as there was wind, he stopped again. The MistClan borders were closer than he'd thought. Buckleap narrowed his yellow-green eyes and peered out into the field to see if he could find anything there. MistClan, hm? They weren't kidding with that name. With clouds drifting over the usually bright Greenleaf sun, nothing seemed as clear as it should have been. He sighed heavily. Another long shot that hadn't panned out. The tom sat down and continued to stare at his surroundings. If any cat did happen to come by, he was determined to notice.

---

KingHarry

[KingHarry]

Despite the glorious weather, not even Whiskey could nap in the sun forever. As annoying as it was, the warmth did not automatically stop the hairy tom from having duties to tend to. Oh well. While he would rather be sprawled out in his favourite sunny patch (a shiny area on top of a sleeping monster that was always hot when the sun shone on it), the warmth around him didn't leave just because he was walking about - a fact that was the only thing stopping him from being incredibly grumpy about the fact he needed to be up and about.

The kittypet had just finished checking the local area for any signs of catnip (a terrible plant - one that he destroyed whenever he saw it) when he stumbled across a strange scent. Hm. That smelt like cat, though he didn't know who. Best to be alert, then. While Whiskey was happy to welcome guests onto his farm, he knew better than to instantly trust them all.

It wasn't long before he spotted the stranger sitting in the distance. "Howdy!" The tom mewed loudly as he approached. "What's a tenderfoot like you doin' there then, eh? You lost?" That certainly seemed like the most likely explanation here. That, or he was a MistClan cat that smelt funny and he hadn't met yet, here to hunt in his barn. Whatever the case, Whiskey was open and friendly to him - hopefully encouraging the same behaviour in return.

[Fireflake]

Buckleap the Loner

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Buckleap's pricked ears caught the sound of Whiskey's paw-steps before his scent. His voice also carried clearly as Buckleap turned to look at the stranger. Howdy? The scent did eventually reach him. When it did, Buckleap breathed deeply. It didn't seem like a clan scent. But the cat had come from MistClan territory, hadn't he?

The loner pushed his own questions aside as he heard the other tom's. The rounded tip of his thick tail twitched. What in the name of Silverpelt did he mean by tenderfoot? The tabby wondered if it was an insult, but decided not to dwell on it too long. Odd wording or not, he knew the answer to this tom's question.

"No, I'm not lost," he replied bluntly. He didn't know where he was, exactly, but that didn't mean he was lost. He could easily get back to the Twolegplace by just walking back the way he'd come. Probably. "I was looking for someone."

A kittypet in a barn. A cat that lived near MistClan's territory but was clearly distinct from a clan cat. Buckleap's eyes ran quickly over the tom in front of him. "I'm looking for a kittypet that some cats say knows things..." he added. His eyes returned to the stranger's face. "I'm getting the feeling you might know that cat."

---

KingHarry

[KingHarry]

For a moment, Whiskey was silent - staring back at the other with an amused expression - before, finally, he burst out laughing. Well yes, of course he knew the cat - he tended to know at least rumours of everybody. That was what happened when you kept one ear to the ground and were generally friendly enough to convince others to chat with you. Here, though, he had a feeling that this cat was looking for somebody he knew of through more than rumours.

"Has Tequila been yapping on again?" Whiskey chuckled, shaking his head as he sauntered closer to the stranger. "That boy's a menace - always off with his ladies, or bringin' trouble back to the barn. I tell him to stop, ya know, but he never listens."

Again, the fluffy tom shook his head. "Anyway, I reckon I'm the fella ya looking for. The name's Whiskey. Wanna come back to the farm with me, or do you feel like risking the wrath of the MistClan warriors?"

[Fireflake]

Buckleap the Loner

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Buckleap watched Whiskey's amusement with an entertained expression of his own, though his seemed closer to how one might react to a kit's joke. Most of the loner's expressions seemed simple and straightforward. He could feel the irony. It wasn't an uncommon or unwelcome feeling for the sarcastic tom, of course.

A slight smirk joined the tabby's face at Whiskey's talk of Tequila. It sounded like a mentor talking about his apprentice. In fact, it sounded like his mentor talking about him. He flicked the rounded tip of his tail. He didn't need to be thinking about his mentor right now.

"Well, the wrath of MistClan warriors does sound tempting," he joked as if he was actually considering it, "but it can probably wait for another day."
He gestured forward with one white forepaw. "Lead the way."
Because it turns out I have no idea how to get to your barn, he thought.

The tom commented, "I must just be better at listening than Tequila. Big ears and idle paws seem like the only reason I find out anything about this place."
He shrugged one shoulder. "Apart from talkative young cats."
His gaze once again flicked over Whiskey. He didn't really seem like a talkative young cat.

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KingHarry