Post by LupTacco on May 27, 2018 6:40:00 GMT
Cast List:
Bluebird - A long-furred blue and cream tabby she-cat. Rogue. About 10 moons.
Tweed - A rusty reddish-brown and black tabby tom. Kittypet turned loner. About 30 moons. Blue's father. Wheat - A pale ginger tabby tom with white markings. Left the clans as an apprentice, now a rogue. About 12 moons.
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"Did you find anywhere to hunt?" she mewed hopefully, dipping her head forward to catch his eyes. However, she was answered only a frustrated sigh. Ear ears flattened with embarrassment, "...I was just wondering. I've never had fresh prey." Though it was earnest, her explanation didn't earn her any sympathy, and she resigned herself to pouting and glaring at the beetles and gnats that passed between her paws as they walked. Just once I wish he'd at least try to teach me anything that mattered, her tail flicked in agitation until the tom stopped in his tracks and whirled around. The anger in his eyes sent her into a crouch, but they softened a moment later.
"Bluebird... look, sweet, I can't afford to hunt all day. Prey's hard to catch, and we have to save our energy. It's not like bein' a twoleg's cat. We don't have food waiting for us where we sleep," he sighed, wrapping his tail around the young she-cat. "It's just more practical to find scraps. I'm sorry, Blue." Bluebird leaned into her father's thick fur, sniffing and holding back frustrated tears. She started when she felt his nose rest on her forehead, looking up at him. "Maybe.... maybe we'll find you a good mouse in the scraps today, eh?" his eyes lit up and his face softened with that look- that one that said 'Please don't argue Blue' and 'I've got bad legs Blue, I can't teach you to hunt'- and she sighed in response.
"Okay, Dad," she mumbled, still feeling down. It didn't help that her stomach was growling.
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"Eugh," Bluebird's nose wrinkled at the hours-old cooked chicken Tweed had pulled from the foil wrapped around it. It was covered in some sort of brown crust, like most things in the red and white and foil wrapping, and very thin. It felt like rubber against her teeth. "...I can't eat this," she muttered, pushing the morsel away to try to hide it under the trash can. I'd rather starve. She lifted her nose up, curling her tail around her paws and squinting at the meat- her dad called it 'chicken' - with a disgusted look in her eyes. The cooked eggs from a breakfast sandwich had been okay this morning, but this chicken was hours old and tasted of weird oils and trash. She was pretty sure those fizzy liquids twolegs liked had been spilled on it before they found it, too.
"Bluebird."
She was drawn out of her 'food' musings by a stern growl from her father. "Did you even eat anything?" She nodded quickly- maybe a little too quickly in hindsight. She saw suspicion rise in his eyes.
"What? I did!" to prove her innocence, she tore off another little bite from the larger portion between them and choked it down, "See? Mmmmmm." His squint only deepened. Dog's-drool, he's not going for it, her confident facade began to crumble, ears twitching under his gaze. "....Okay. Maybe I didn't eat all of it-"
"Bluebird! You can't just-" she flinched, cursing to herself as his gaze drifted to the hint of chicken visible under the trash bin. "...wasting. You can't waste! I spent two hours finding this, and I almost fell in there dragging in out! Do you want to be alone out here? Starving on the street because- because you're picky?" She shrank to the ground, trembling as she became conflicted in what to do next. She wanted to cry, spit, claw his whiskers up, yell, run away, all at once. Ultimately, one won out over the others, and she stood, pushing her nose against him roughly to force him back.
"You know what, yes! I want food that doesn't taste like it's been in a dirtplace for a day! I want-," she gulped, hesitating, but urged herself on, "I want a father that can actually hunt! I want to kill my own food! It's what a cat is built for! Not, digging around in twoleg leftovers and hoping for something edible! Competing with rats and stray mutts, it's-" Another pause, this time to catch her breath, lifting her head with one final defiant stare. "It's not what a cat was meant to do. It's not what I was meant to do." Her legs stiffened as she let her words sink in before turning away, running down the sidewalk towards the park. I think some kittypets said they hunt for fun there sometimes, she assured herself as a hint of regret and fear tingled up her spine. She dared a glance back as she paused under a streetlight. Her father's tabby coat was a messy smudge in the distance, but his yellow eyes still communicated a deep pain even from this far away. "....s-sorry," she whispered, knowing he couldn't hear her, and walked away over the raised hill, disappearing from view.
Back behind her, though no-one was around to hear him, Tweed sent a vague prayer to whatever forces might exist, "Let her be safe... somebody protect her."
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Bluebird awoke, groggy and her belly painful with hunger, surrounded by flowers and confusing scents. She shot up, almost falling over with dizziness, trying to remember how she got here. I...I yelled at him. And then I came to here, she gulped, must be the park. Feeling lost and extremely lonely, she shivered in the dewy grasses, eyes wide. "What do I do," she meowed aloud, "what do I do?" Her voice faltered, and she hung her head down. Maybe I'll just sleep until I stop being hungry. Before she could resign herself to hunger pains and uneasy dreams, a brash voice dragged her away. It was murky, drenched in her thoughts, but her head whipped up to see a golden-ginger tabby. "...what?" she managed after staring at him in bewilderment.
"I said, ya got a name, lady? I'm Wheat. Just left the forest. Saw what I wanted to see, got bored, y'know?" The tom rolled over on the stony wall of the edge of the park, leaping down to be at her level. He seemed young, maybe about her own age.
"I'm Bluebird. And you-," a hint of incredulousness entered her voice, "left the forest? Who lives in the forest?" Wheat shrugged, smirking at her. Her fur fluffed up. "What're you grinning about?" she growled, following him with her gaze as he walked around her.
"You really don't know there's cats in the woods, hunting their own food and living wild and free?" He snickered- his voice was really grating on her ears frankly- sitting beside her. "You a kittypet or something?"
Bluebird bristled, spitting at the young tom. "No! I would never live so easily! And no, I don't know about the forest. You... wait, can you hunt?" Her eyes widened, still skeptical but a little more curious than annoyed now. Wheat nodded, smiling smugly.
"Yeah, why?" His ears flicked and his smile got even more smug when he heard her stomach growl. "You wanna learn?" She nodded, eyes brightening. Maybe today doesn't have to be so bad....