[ti]Open[/ti]i got no strings to hold me back

[Rai]

For all his excitement regarding becoming an apprentice and serving his clan he certainly didn't act it today. Branchpaw felt the drag of winter weighting him down heavily and while he wanted to be more enthusiastic about hunting and practicing his stealth crouches, he also hated the way the sky darkened from the cold embrace of lead-bare and the sharp cutting winds that sent his fur rippling and exposing his thin undercoat to the elements. 
In layman's terms: he was cold. It sucked.
The cinnamon and white young tom moved forward determined to at least find something worth bringing home-having missed a bird moments earlier had left him in low spirits but he would try his best regardless.
His venture forward brought him to a small dip in the snow that sparked him a curious and upon approaching he was rewarded with a spring of a rabbit bursting forth from the mound, his footsteps having not been silent enough to avoid alerting it, with a wild dive he lunged forward after it, the rabbit's white pelt spotted in darker coloration as a clear sign the cold's coming end and it was all the motivation he needed to go bolting in its wake as his teeth closed on air.
"Get BACK HERE!" He shouted, it was already aware of him and his chase would surely scare off everything else so now Branchpaw was fully invested in getting this cotton-tailed terror back to camp.
But it quickly became clear that rabbit's were more well-designed to leap across crunchy snow than he was as every step dragged him further down into the sloshy depths while the kick of its backlegs gradually vanished from his sight.
In moments he was nearly buried, face plastered to the cold white down in defeat.

tagging; Broadwaykat

[Broadwaykat]

There remained a sort of unspoken competition between some of the younger toms - or at least, there was one perpetuated in the mind of Martenpaw. If there was tell that some young cat was showing off, trying to do his best, or something so outlandishly dangerous that older, sensible cats would open their mouths in open-eyed awe at the sheer brainlessness behind it, likely Martenpaw would be found to be the mastermind. And sure, there were sometimes that other cats his age were smart enough to keep out of it's way.

Some.

That day he was without the watchful eye of his mentor - a surefire recipe for disaster, when he thought of going out with some of the other apprentices for some fun. They weren't quite adults, but they had enough freedom to get up to mischief, so many of them had headed out for that day ready to make or break themselves, and Martenpaw wanted in on it too. Soon, he found himself separated from most of their group...only to come across the yell of a familiar voice.

Branchpaw was nearby somewhere...so Martenpaw took off in their direction as it seemed he, at least, had found something worthwhile. He arrived just in time to miss the retreating tale of the off-color bunny, but of course just in time to see the other apprentice's specatcular nosedive.

"Nice one, Branchbrain!" He crowed, from his position a few tail-lengths away, significantly drier and warmer than the other cat was sure to be right then. "You know those nursery stories about snow weasels are fake, right? You can't actually hunt 'em!"

[Rai]

He had just about to breath a sigh of relief that none of the other apprentices out hunting today had seen that, but the sudden jeers and laughter muffled from outside his snowy grave he was quickly proven incorrect. Branchpaw lifted his head, shaking it to clear snow from the inside of his ears and nose and a sharp sneeze finished the job before he turned his attention to the tom.
"Well, I found something at least! You've only seemed to have caught me in action today, Martenpaw!" There was disdain and arrogance to his tone but a soft smile on his maws as he spoke, legs lifting to carefully plod his way over across the soft down that threatened to overcome him.
It was all in good jest, Branchpaw wasn't the spiteful kind and he enjoyed kinship more than rivalry, but that didn't mean he wasn't happy to play the part of good sporting combativeness. 
Finally reaching the other he shook again to dislodge any excess snow building on his coat in the hopes some could catch the other apprentice in its path, "I'll be we'll both be mighty surprised when snow weasels turn out to be true and our mothers weren't just pulling our tails."
He lifted his hindquarters up for emphasis, bobtail twitching slightly, "Or...rather, just your tail. Mine's not so much for grabbing anymore."
It use to bother him a lot, the lop-ended nub he had for a tail, but he grew to like it as he got older.
If Owlstar named him Branchtail he'd be a bit cross though, but she didn't seem the cruel joke type.

[Broadwaykat]

Ah, Branchpaw at least knew how to laugh about things. It was one of the things that Martenpaw liked about the tom. He didn't worry about Branchpaw running off to Thornflame complaining about hurt feelings. He gal-lumped down towards Branchpaw, neatly sinking up to his belly into the snow and not really worrying about the shivers it gave him.

"Oh, I don't know; I bet I could still give it a good nip if I tried." He bragged, playfully snapping his jaws at the other tom's backside and purposefully going wild of his target. "Wouldn't be any more different thank catching a bunny by the butt. Hey! There's a warrior name for you there. Branchbunny!" He snickered at his own stupid joke; it was one thing that young cats seemed to do a lot before they were made full warriors - Imagine what names and honors were destined for them once they were old enough to recieve them. 

"What was so interesting anyways? Or were you tryin' ta see if you could make snow taste like freshkill?" He asked, sniffing the area around where Branchpaw had so ineligantly dived into the frozen slush.

[Rai]

"If they call me Branchbunny I'm going to go join MothClan. I wonder if Brackenstar has a better naming style than Mothstar did." The cinnamon and white apprentice gave a small pivot to flick his hind end away from Martenpaw's nipping teeth with a laugh before dropping his voice into a low grumbling mockery of the ex-MothClan leader, "Hey, you've got a face-Your name will be Faceface."
You couldn't beat Owlstar's names though, he felt she had a good grasp on picking something that suited a particular cat's skills and personality and he hoped he got a good one as a result. Thank goodness their leader wasn't that literal in that regard.
The tom lifted a paw, shook it to dislodge the snow before taking a few steps forward in the direction the rabbit had sprang off to, teeth grit together from the chill and a tightly knit grin, "You didn't see that rabbit? It had dark spots on it-looks like it was losing that white coat. Maybe Leaf-bare will be ending soon?" Or maybe it was a dirty rabbit. He wasn't too sure now but he sincerely hoped it was the former as all this slush was starting to get on his nerves. Hunting was a task and he hated the chill that seeped down to the bone that lingered all day. 
Also the wet fur smell in camp was becoming overwhelming.

[Broadwaykat]

"Oh come on now, Branchbunny wouldn't be so bad. But if you're so against it, I bet you there's a few others they could come up with. Branchbutt, since you're so offended by bunny. Or Branchbrain, since you got a head made out of wood!" He playfully swiped at his den mate as a bravado act of playfighting, but overshot it ever so slightly and ended up only bowling himself over into the snow; a cold little reminder of why it ultimately sucked to be training in the middle of leafbare.

"Brr...I certainly hope so." He shivered, giving himself a good shake and sending a smattering of slushy snow in all directions. "It's miserable, that's what. I mean it wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't so cold. I swear yesterday when I woke up, my whiskers were so cold they could have been snapped off!"

Of course, it was also his first real leaf bare. He was certain not to mind it after a while, or if he had had the luxury to sleep the wintry months away, bear-like.