Dilemma [SOUL]

[`Fahrenheit]

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[atrb=background,http://i295.photobucket.com/albums/mm141/Spottedbelly/2Whitestarmain.png] It was awfully warm. Whitestar could feel the perspiration wetting his fur; it made him feel terribly awkward just to move his legs, but he trudged on like a trooper, his snow-colored tail held high and twitching. Silver clouds covered the entire sky and stretched all the way toward the horizon, although it wasn't like the leader of HillClan could tell. The oak trees broke and cluttered the view of the above world, allowing only a small fissure or two of gray light to break for the forest floor. Humidity as thick as matted cat fur squished Whitestar's resolve. He didn't like being out and about in such weather. It was obviously about to rain. Also, the sun would be reaching its zenith by right about then, so the heat was definitely at its peak. But Whitestar had to hunt. He'd been all alone to himself back at HillClan camp. All the warriors and apprentices had practically vanished, their little selves probably cast out like stones all over the rolling territory by his deputy, Frostfur. Left to his own devices, the large white tom had felt basically useless. Normally such a thing wouldn't make him want to trudge out immediately, but he had this vibe going through him. He felt the desire to really push himself that day. Whitestar knew he was the worst hunter in the Clan. He knew it. But, while back in his den, staring out of the opening to peer with dark eyes out into the pallid world, he had a daydream so vivid that he wished to make it reality. The warrior had pictured himself, gallant and handsome, streaking through the forest. He saw himself bounding over the lightening-blasted Fallen Oak. He saw himself catching squirrels. His stomach growled. Okay, maybe it was his belly making the fanciful allusions of grandeur. But 'ey, I'm pretty hands'me, he thought, amber eyes burning as he neared the location of the downed tree. "I'm smokin'. I'll catch meh self ah nice squirrel, an' I'll tote it on back teh camp. Then ev'ryone will be cleanin' my toe pads for muns." His words were brazen and loudly spoken. Whitestar didn't bother about other cats possibly listening in. From what he could tell, he walked alone, the sounds of the still forest filling his senses. If someone was trekking behind, he'd hear them loud and clear like a crow alighting over his den. Flicking his ears as his paws met the first splintered branch, he focused his gaze on the sight of the Fallen Oak. Her wood was charred at the impact sight, mangled branches resembling flailing arms caught in time stretching out from the top. The butt of the tree (its tail that was still packed with soil and fat roots) smelled just the same. Whitestar always liked to wonder over how something that should smell like fire and death could smell so alive and connected to the ground. But, in the thicket-like entanglement of branches, Whitestar knew he had to pinpoint his attention. Already lowering himself expectantly, the bulky leader gingerly padded his way up. The very soft shadow of the tree covered him, and through the large opening in the canopy above where her boughs had been was the sky. Clouds threatening a good pour, he strained his senses. "C'mon, I know yer here s'me'eres," he mumbled, his eyes so round and adorably serious. Because, really, Whitestar was looking ridiculous. He was with a lifted rump, his chest touching the ground and his face so blank that he appeared to be jesting by even attempting to hunt in such a manner. But the HillClan leader continued to slowly slink forward, his body swaying from side to side as he progressed. Chirping and clicking from inside the tree alerted Whitestar. From within the twists and black shadows he could smell the strong tang of mouse, its image coming to him like the ghost of his mother in the dead of night. Sinking his tail, he zeroed in. He also considered his options. Wait or go in? Er, I'm thinkin' go in. Tha's what most cats do, right? Yeh. Wiggling his bottom and shuffling his feet like there was no tomorrow, Whitestar jerked forward. Paws flicking out to stab through the spaces, he made the mistake of blocking his body and ruining his momentum by hugging a branch instead. Hissing, he snaked around as best he could to slither into the hollow. But too late. As his vision adjusted to the dark, he saw his mouse run off. And as he tried to pull out, he found himself stuck. He forcefully pushed and squirmed to free himself, wincing at the hardened sticks digging into his sides. Tail bushed out, he let out a sharp and sorrowful yowl for help. He paused. "It's jus' you, White. Ya can do et, c'mon." Trying with all his might, he gave one final tug with his hind legs. It was the charm; he came tumbling backwards, forepaws shaking. Scratches covered his shoulders, back, and head, including one particularly nasty one right on his forehead. But he didn't care, which was naturally Whitestar. Tufts of white fur were all over the place. "Mice. Dun know when teh get caught," he grumbled, sitting down a moment to lick his paws. "It weren't teh squirrel, though, so tha's 'kay. Mmm."

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[Soul]

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[atrb=background,http://i54.tinypic.com/2d8i77m.png] The bright sun lit up the sky like it did every day. It filled Frostfur with excitement. 'What would the new day bring? What new adventures would spring upon him today?' His thoughts swirrled in his mind. The light warmed his long and partially dark fur. Today is going to be too hot for him, but he needs to get out and do something. Scrambling to his paw he bounded outof the camp into the cooler shade of some bushes. He dodged branches that poked his spotted nose. Today was a day or hunting! He had already sent everyone out to do sonething if they where just sitting around. They had to be productive if they wanted to get anywhere. He happly bounced out of the bushes on a leaf. He playfully tossed it into the air as if he where a kit. As it fell he crouched down as if to kill his prey. Before it hit the ground the bushes nearby rustled slightly. 'A mouse must have run for cover while I wasn't looking.' he thought. Thinking of the mouse reminded him that he is a deputy not a kit, and that he needs to start doing some hunting instead of playing. He sighed and bounded off to a new spot, for he was being too loud over there. Scaring all the prey without even thinking about it. He looked around to make sure no one was watching him. They surely would have made fun of him for being so kit-like. Nothing was going to keep this tom from doing that sometims, but he needed to grow up. Carrying on in his journey to find prey, Frostfur stopped and listened. The sounds of small rustling could be heard from a nearby tree. He dropped to a low crouch. His fur brushing against the sun-warmed gound. Creeping forward, silently, dodging the fallen debris that would cause him to make noise. He got as close as possible. The only part that was visible on the prey was it's tail. The black and white tom pounced when he found it necessary. Grasping the defencless mouse in his white claws. The attack killed it instantly as the large cat landed on it. Pleased with his first kill of the day, Frostfur picked up his prize, burried it, and trotted off. After a while of trekking through the territory, he heard a crash nearby. Curious his white paws lead him to a burnt tree. A white fluff looked like it had tumbled out of it. Recodnizing the fluff, Frostfur bounded toward him. "Whatcha up to Whitestar?"

[/i] Curious as to why he was in a dead tree. He almost let out a slight chuckle,but withheld it. His eyes looked around to see if there was someone with him.

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[`Fahrenheit]

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[atrb=background,http://i295.photobucket.com/albums/mm141/Spottedbelly/2Whitestarmain.png] Whitestar shook his head, wincing and grumbling at the stinging he felt. Heat was accumulating around his forehead, and he could also feel a noticeable burning sensation around his shoulders. The HillClan leader hurt himself bad, he could tell, but as his vision was blurred by a small trickle of scarlet blood running down the bridge of his muzzle, he rationalized the situation. It wasn't the first time he had injured himself while out and about in HillClan territory, and Whitestar wouldn't be Whitestar with a few scars and scabs on his face. The white-pelted tom licked his paws some more, his tongue rasping over the toes. He gnawed at his dirty claws, trying to get at the grime that always accumulated in the grooves. He noticed a broken claw; he was losing them right and left lately, and he found his feet to be rather gross because of it. Setting his paw on the ground, he sat silent for a moment, his amber eyes lazily staring at the Fallen Oak. He had to get back to hunting. Lifting his body up, he started perking his ears and preparing to look again, the daydream of the squirrel edging its way back into his fore-thoughts like a wake on a shoreline. Whitestar was just about to turn in direction and start scanning the catacombs of branches, but he was startled by a voice asking what he was up to. Jumping into the air and whirling around to face the newcomer, the HillClan leader lashed his tail and looked on with round eyes. But within moments he recognized the black and white fur of his deputy. Letting his tail flatten and his hackles relax, Whitestar frowned. He hadn't expected to see Frostfur, although as the situation sunk in, he found himself becoming very grateful. He loved talking with his deputy and medicine cat, relying on their guidance and (hopefully) loyal support. Plus, perhaps Frostfur would help him catch his squirrel! That'd be marvelous, especially considering he wasn't... he wasn't the best at hunting. "'Ey!" he started, amber eyes bright as he finally greeted his deputy. "I'm huntin'. I thought the Fallen Oak would be a good place teh go, yeh know." Pausing, he wrinkled his nose when a trail of blood went a little too close to his nostrils, filling his glands with the smell of rust. "I, uh, got in teh a l'il bit o' trouble when tryin' teh git a mouse er somethin'. The thin' got away. But 'ey!" Whitestar's voice raised in pitch as he got more excited, ready to propose his idea. "If yer not busy or anythin', we can hunt 'ere t'gether. I really want teh cetch a squirrel, yeh know, and I could use the help." Lifting his head to the sky, he watched the clouds start to thin out and lighten. It was a nice sign for him, despite being confused as to why the storm he was so sure would come was actually receding. Maybe a wind pushed it to the side of them. Shrugging the thought off, he minded that it was honestly all the better for them and HillClan. "I don' see any squirrels, though," Whitestar mused, eyes shifting from the clouds to look at the branches overhead. Normally there'd be the little critters everywhere, bouncing off the tree trunks and messing around on the forest floor. He speculated that Frostfur must have scared them, coming in so quick and all that. Frowning once more, the HillClan leader came in closer to the Fallen Oak. "'Ey, Frost, yeh could go on in there an' look around. Yer fluffy, but yer a young'un, so yeh can do it. Jus' lemme know when you find somethin'." He looked from the thick mess of branches to Frostfur, waiting, but it was only a second before he changed his mind. "We could also climb, 'haps, maybe go up a few and look fer the thin's. They're downright liable to be up in teh high up branches, right? Yeh, up in teh tip most branches." Whitestar looked at his deputy, earnestly awaiting and longing for his opinion on the matter. He wasn't entirely sure what to do, in all honesty, and insight from his deputy would be phenomenal in so many ways.

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[Soul]

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[atrb=background,http://i54.tinypic.com/2d8i77m.png] Frostfur's eyes gleamed with joy at the new day. He had woken up in a great mood today, and his morning walk get him ready for the day's beggining. His legs stretched, pelt groomed, and he was ready for whatever the day throws at him. He sent everybody out with a job to do. Today, they where going to be productive. Like every other day. His mind wandered a bit. 'Was everyone doing thir set jobs? Will there be enough prey? Who is filling in the hole that was found the other day? all complete deputy thoughts. His mind seemed to always be on his job lately. Frostfur chuckled, this had to be the best leader ever. 'Hunting huh? With Whitestar? This should be fun.' he nodded. "Okay. I'll help. First, are you okay?"

[/b] he asked examining the blood trailling down the leader's muzzle. Squirrels would be in the trees collecting nuts for the leaf-bare. "It'd be best to check the trees first. They shoukd be preparing."[/b] His green eyes scanned the area. Passing everying over as if it was insignificant and inadequate. What way should they go thiugh. Whitestar most likely scarred whatever was around with that noise.
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[`Fahrenheit]

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[atrb=background,http://i295.photobucket.com/albums/mm141/Spottedbelly/2Whitestarmain.png] "Right, right." He nodded impatiently and yet enthusiastically, a sudden bought of urgency upon him. He was on the very verge of falling into brilliancy with his ideas, and Frostfur was slowing him down with all these questions and facts! Not that he didn't appreciate it. Remembering that his deputy was a smart and very reliable fellow, he allowed himself to calm down. His right eye blinked as blood weighted the skin on his forehead. Knowing the tom had inquired over his well-being, Whitestar replied reassuringly (or maybe not so much), "Yeh, I'm fine, I'm fine. Don' worry 'bout meh. I get beat up all teh time. It's nuthin' a cat like meh can't handle, now. Thank ya kindly for teh concern, though. 'S what makes yeh a good deputy, ya know." The white-pelted leader nodded his head in satisfaction at his words. "Like I said, teh squirrels are definitely liable to be totin' their nuts 'n' other valuables all up in about them trees, so—" leaving the overhang of the roots of the Fallen Oak, Whitestar padded passed Frostfur to approach a nearby tree, the bark looking soft from all the humidity in the air. "—I think it'd be mighty smart for one o' us to climb on up." He tilted his large head back, copper-hued eyes as big as acorns gazing up into the canopy overhead. While the sky had gotten brighter, it still looked rather menacing, clouds overlapping and rolling by like ripples in a pool. As he looked, he saw two clouds part for a moment to reveal a vivid circle of cerulean blue, only to be swallowed back up by the mounds of water vapor. Frowning, he placed a dirty paw on the tree's trunk. The bark chaffed away at his touch. Turning back around to face his comrade, Whitestar cleared his throat. "Teh squirrels are totin' nuts, like yeh said. I can't hear 'em clattering 'n' such, but I bet to gracious they're up there." Expression growing worried, he sighed. "I'm gonna be honest with yeh, Frostfur." Whitestar licked his lips and twitched his tail. "I really, really want a squirrel. Whether it be with yer help or not, I want to bring one on back to teh camp. I.... Hmm, do yeh think yeh could climb on up fer me? Yer a downright good hunter, I know yeh are; yeh 'ave to be, even. Better 'en meh, at least." He muttered the last part, frustration heating his brain and giving him a slight headache. Or maybe it was the wounds on his head. "But..." glancing back up at the branches above, he mused, "it's gonna be meh squirrel, so I should do it. Frostfur," his voice rose, "I'm climbing on up! Now don' go markin' me right where I'm climbin' 'cause you might get a look at meh butt, and I could get yeh for bein' peepin' a look, so stay right there." Wiggling his rump, he didn't wait for Frostfur's go ahead before launching himself up the tree. His claws dug easily into the bark, and he managed to shimmy his bulky body up until he reached the first branch. With taut muscles and a bushy tail, Whitestar perched himself precariously on the limb. He could see his deputy from where he was. The HillClan leader wasn't that far up. In fact, it was probably only a mouse length higher than Sky Hill. Becoming brazen due to this fact, he decided to aim for a higher spot a little bit up the tree. He did just as he had before, looking very much like a fat, over-sized white squirrel. When he reached his destination, he let his puffed-out tail dangle over the edge of the branch and his gaze fall back to the forest floor once more. "Yeh look mighty small, Frostfur!" he called, eyeing the black and white tom. "Oh, but don' yell, now. Yer gonna scare away all the squirrels. C'mon, now, Frostfur." Once he was done yelling his reprimand, he looked up and around at his surroundings. No squirrels, at least not yet.

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