Rootkit didn't care to groom his pelt anymore. It was always a white mess and at this point, tinted gray. He laid in his usual spot in the nursery, a large empty nest that long lost the scent of his family. Rootkit was born to a strange appearing cat named Briardawn, and he had three siblings. The first two he didn't remember well, but his sister Branchkit was dearly loved. He woke up to make sure they were safe, and wouldn't sleep until she did. Then.. they both vanished. It had been a few moons since that happened and it seemed the tom took up to possessing odd objects to the void. After a moment of laying there, he quietly got to his paws, shaking as he usually did, and made his way out.
The kit didn't have muse to eat, his stomach simply didn't feel hungry as he glanced to the prey pile. However, as he approached there was a large brown leaf on top of a creature. Suddenly, he carefully took it into his jaws and skittered back to the nursery.
His eyes glanced to the other kits and queens as he padded in, before finding a lonely spot that was left alone for being a bit colder and drafty, and he placed the leaf down. His eyes looked sad, and he gave a deep sigh before flopping on to his side.
Even as an an apprentice, there were some things that you were never too old for. Like playing games. Particularly among budding young toms, many of whom at a certain age began to assume that the world revolved around them, would turn those games into competitions of who was better. Martenpaw always wanted to be better - claiming he was the biggest, the fastest, the strongest of all of them. Even when he tripped over his own tail or his overlarge paws - that hadn't seemed to have caught up with the rest of his body yet.
"Last one to the Fresh-Kill pile has to sleep in the Dirtplace!" He crowed, careening around a corner into the quarry and several tail-lengths ahead of a few of his mates. He was surely going to win; until something small dashed in front of his paws. He skidded and flopped to his belly, much to the mockery and amusement of his fellows.
Angry that his assured victory had been stolen from him, he regained his footing and this time stomped off in search of the distraction; which he had just seen heading out into the nursery. Fur rising along his spine, he knew just what he was going to say. It was a figure too small to be a warrior or a queen - must of been a kit, which Martenpaw knew he could handle.
Even so, upon stepping into the nursery and spotting a figure on it's lonesome, some of the ire left his even if the fur along his spine hadn't quite settled.
"What'd you think you were doing?! Whose gone and stepped on your tail?!" He grumbled, somewhere between angry and ready to pick a fight with something smaller than him, and a little taken aback at the kit's expression. What, had somebody shredded his favorite mossball or something?
Rootkit wasn't sure what he had done, when an apprentice came charging into the nursery, fuming. The white Tom's tail started to lash uneasily, not a single word of defense coming from his mouth. Either he was just plain dumb, or purposely not talking at all. No matter the case, he didn't want to even try and fight back as he rolled on his side in submission. Then, he remembered the leaf. Darting fowards, he quick snatched it up before remaining in a low crouch and glaring at him.
But, even after a few moments of remaining as still as he could, hoping the other would go away, it didn't seem like it would happen. Something rustled outside of the den, probably another cat or snow, and without a warning Rootkit slammed into Martenpaw's legs and took off into the clearing with a tucked tail and bristled fur.
The smaller cat at least seemed a little smart at first; rolling into a submission pose that Martenpaw had certainly been expecting. But he didn't answer him, which set his hackles up again, ever so slightly. "Seriously, what is you' - OUGH!"
Without warning, the kit had darted forward, his prize in his jaws, and Martenpaw once again found himself knocked down; legs swept out from under him by a sudden unexpected force; the kit itself.
As it was unexpected, it took the older cat a second to regain his bearings; but once he did he remembered his fury. The kit...had knocked him down. That was not allowed to stand!
"What do you think you're....get BACK here!" He snapped, regaining his footing and tearing after the kit and his prize. Sure, he had been prepared to just yell a bit...but now things had gotten personal.
This was his leaf! And the spooked dash seemed to give him a few seconds to take off into the clearing. However, not being able to leave camp, he was cornered quickly and the thundering of paws made the white cat snap around with a fearful look. His pale eyes met the older cat's as Martenpaw charged. The feline was snarling angrily and fear pulsed through Rootkit's body.
He rushed to shoot around this opponent, but then an instinctive voice reminded him. He was protecting this leaf. So his family came back. He couldn't let this leaf down! Skidding to a stop, the small white cat sprung at Martenpaw with a snarl of his muzzle.
Martenpaw wasn't the biggest of cats, but that didn't mean that he stepped down from confrontation or fights. He only liked to pick ones that he liked to win. Now things were personal, which made it even worse; but even as he tore out after the kit he had no idea what he was getting himself into. This was not a cat with which he could through his age or bulk around in.
Just as it seemed like he would gain the upper paw and cornered the smaller cat, the white blur leapt - at him, not around him as he assumed would be the sanest course of action. And still, the kit was practically silent; at least not saying anything intelligent in the slightest. He felt his skin flush beneath his fur. Seriously what was going on with this kid?!
"What. Is. Your. Problem!?" He grumbled, once he had managed to drop to the ground. He was angry, confused - and his ego was seriously bruised to boot. He did his best to try and shake the mini attacker - but still, he wasn't about to retreat. "What, are you fox-mad or something? You're acting like a badger with a beehive on it's butt!" Surely, if he could just get the upper paw, he could pin the kit down or...something. Go from there. He figured he needed to do it soon though, because those little claws of Rootkit's were actually starting to hurt!
Carried Home is a Warriors roleplay forum. We feature four clans - all four of which have futures that heavily depend on what your characters do - as well as a 50 word count minimum on RP posts, and a functioning currency and shop.
While most of the action does center around our four clans, members are also permitted to make loners, rogues, and kittypets. You can also make both StarClan and Dark Forest characters.