Wanderlust (Open)

[mystic]

Flintwhisker
^{A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield}

On starry nights like this one's paws just seemed to carry them. There was no snow falling from the sky, however from earlier in the day a thin dusting of snow covered the moors. However the moors had been seen so many times, even though the undulating hills were a sight to behold tonight Flintwhisker wanted to see something other than the snow covered heather. Lifting his tail up he took a deep breath of the chilly night air and padded towards Thunderclan land. He would never cross the border, he was far too much of a gentleman for that. He was bound by law and honour to stay on this side of the border. However that didn't mean he couldn't go have a look.

Pawprints were left behind him as he walked, sniffing carefully. He stopped and eyed the ground, looking at prints in the snow. They were too small to be a horse. Then he looked up and saw a older fallow buck searching for grass under the snow. His eyes widened, how could a animal get so big. The fur that hung around the creature was shaggy, and reminded the young tom of a lion's mane. He sat and watched the stag, wondering what it was doing here. Likely looking for food. Well it being here was good, because it tended to uncover the snow and therefore allow smaller animals to find green grass, or at least some sort of grass. He chuckled and flicked an ear back.

The graceful creature stopped and looked at him, the two cat and deer's eyes locking. Then the fallow shook its head and let out a distainfull snort, then returned to grazing, obviously seeing the feline as no threat.

"You're right." Mewed Flintwhisker. "I wouldn't dream of attacking you, I don't have a death wish. Which I don't have. So don't mind me, I'm just watching." The deer placidly ignored him.

"I wish I could understand you, and you could understand me. You would likely have some great stories to tell."

[Deleted]

Buzzardfang was, unusually, in a very good mood. She had been lying in the sun, as far away from Lizardheart, Bright-tail and Rednose as she could possibly be, and now she was off for a walk, and she was very content, just so long as she didn't meet another cat.

As she walked, though, she scented something feline.

And she walked further, she saw who the possessor of the scent was.

Oh, that was just what she needed.

Flintwhisker.

Ugh. I can't go now, he's probably heard me," she said irritably to herself.

The tan she-cat walked over to him, sighing a little, obviously extremely grudgingly. She really didn't want to go over to him, but she was going to be polite. She had seen him, and there was no escape.

Great.

As she padded over, though, she noticed the deer, and gave a yelping screech, running behind Flintwhisker, claws out, tail lashing and fur bristling, making her look even bigger than she already was.

"What is that thing?!" she yelled, claws out and fur bristling.

[/justify][/size]

[mystic]

(mousy this is about a moon after the Lizardheart thingy)

[Icy-son]

Being in the Nursery all day was completely boring. This queen needed some more excitement in her life.

Well, maybe something more interesting than looking after crazed kits. The queen rolled her eyes at the thought of being with her very own kits, her Clanborn kits, making her happy. It would never make her happy.

She loves to live in the excitement. The battles, the drama, anything else that isn't in the camp, seeking out either one bite of mouse, from the woodland part of her territory, or rabbit. Everything was scrawny.

Well, her kits were four moons old now, and she bets that they could be left in the Nursery with Leopardkit, the eldest kit, and the others. Littlewhisker sighed, thinking for even one second that she would be a queen again. She /couldn't/, for it was completely boring!

A gray, wispy figure was about a few mouse-lengths away, and as she approached, she reconized it as Flintwhisker. "Hi Flintwhisker. Who's your friend?" she added the last part in a rasp, for she was staring into the eyes of the deer.

[/size]

[mystic]

The deer looked up at Buzzardfang's screaming and stared, ears flicking and eyes wide in fear. Flintwhisker closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He put a tail over the panicking she-cat's mouth. "That, Buzzardfang, is a stag. They are the noble forest kings, and proud lords of the moor. No creature will dare hunt them, aside from two-legs." He said. He smiled and turned to look at the queen approaching.

"Greetings." He purred, his thick tail flicking. Much to his embarrasment the name of this lovely queen escaped him. "That, my dear, is a stag. As I was telling Buzzardfang they are noble creatures. Proud and unhuntable. However he is doing us a favour. Because he is making holes in the snow, it will attract animals who come and feed on the grass he uncovers." He grinned. "It's a trick my old man taught me, before he left. You remember Scree right?" The tom grinned.