#couldn’t add whiskers because it made him look like a mouse

[solacedeer]

BEASTOBER: Day 2

I like Cat yves, I want to do more with Cat yves. He always stuck out to me because of how much of a Cat he was. I wanna make him scary but it’s kinda hard to do that in a way thats interesting to me.

[red-jaebyrd]

The Gift

Damian had always wanted to have a cat, but he had never told anyone. So when Pennyworth presented him with one in the Cave it came as a bit of surprise. He wasn’t even sure Pennyworth liked him, though he tolerated Damian.  Every subordinate “tolerated” Damian, Pennyworth wasn’t any different. Soon Pennyworth would grow to dislike him. They all did, but Damian couldn’t be bothered to care. It was beneath him to entertain such feelings. What did he care if Pennyworth liked him or not?

It was astounding the amount of disrespect and rebellious behavior Father tolerated from Pennyworth. The butler constantly meddled in their business by monitoring their sleep, making sure they were fed before and after patrol; and even had the gull to bench them from patrol due to injuries. The insolence of it all was hardly anything Damian could tolerate from a servant.

Father said Pennyworth’s rules and restrictions were just his way of showing that he cared about them and their safety. Damian thought it was a way for Pennyworth to assert his power over the Waynes and one day take over. He thought his Father naïve for having such faith in a butler. Pennyworth may care about his father, but not him. None of the servants at his Grandfather’s compound ever cared about his wellbeing enough for Damian to trust them. Their care for him was conditional. They feared for their lives more than they cared about keeping him safe.

Damian wasn’t sure what to make of Pennyworth’s meddling actions. It wasn’t because Pennyworth cared about him, no it was to remain in his Father’s good graces.

But then Pennyworth had given him a cat. Damian had always wanted a cat, but Grandfather saw them as useless, disgusting creatures and never permitted him to keep one. One day Damian had found an abandon kitten and he had been allowed to care for it, but it was a test. Everything with the League was always a test. When approached by his Grandfather to kill the kitten, Damian refused seeing no purpose in an act so senseless.  Of course he was punished for refusing to end the animal’s life and since then he had been wary of caring for any animals; that was until he came to stay with his Father. Father had gotten him a dog and eventually let him keep the cow he rescued from a slaughterhouse.

He must not get attached to the cat, which shouldn’t be hard as it was currently hissing at Damian. The cat was a young tuxedo cat with a white marking across its whiskers like a mustache just like Pennyworth.

“He has potential. I’ll call him Alfred.”

It seemed like an unusual name to give to a cat, but it fit. The cat was bold for such a small creature and commanded respect, just like its namesake.

Damian watched with great interest the incredible care and patience Pennyworth had with a cat that seemed to hate him. He never attempted to pick up the cat, instead he’d kneel down and allow the cat to sniff his hand and only then would Pennyworth pet his head. He would always wait for the cat to come to him. At first the cat seemed to only be affectionate when it knew it was getting fed, but little by little he responded to both Pennyworth and Damian by curling up on their lap whenever either of them was seated.

It surprised Damian the effort Pennyworth took in helping him care for his cat. Pennyworth suggested they go to the pet store to get cat toys as cats ‘needed stimulation and enrichment’ and cat toys would help Alfred with human interaction and his trust issues.

A month had passed and the cat had stopped hissing…at Damian and Pennyworth. Pennyworth was the only other human Alfred the cat tolerated besides Damian. He was also the only person Damian trusted to help care for his cat.

The cat had been completely distrustful of everyone when it had first arrived, just like Damian. Perhaps that is what Pennyworth meant when he said, ‘I saw him and thought of you’? Damian still wasn’t sure of Pennyworth’s motives where the cat was concerned.

Pennyworth did prove himself to be a very trustful ally when caring for Alfred and if the cat trusted Pennyworth; that was good enough for Damian. Cats were instinctual creatures and their trust was hard earned.

There was still something that had been niggling at the back of Damian’s mind. Perhaps it wouldn’t matter to anyone else, but it mattered to him.

“Why did you get me a cat?” Damian asked, throwing the mouse toy at Alfred. The cat rolled on his side clawing it and kicked it back to Damian with his hind legs.

“I told you Master Damian. I saw him and thought of you.”

Damian furrowed his brow at Alfred. “Why were you thinking of me?”

“I’m always thinking of you, and your Father, and the boys,” Alfred smiled.

“Because it’s your job.”

“No, because you are all my family and I want to see you happy.”

“We’re your family?”

“Of course, my dear boy. This role that I have here at the Manor is more than just a job to me. Surely, you know that, Master Damian.”

Damian thought back to all the times that Pennyworth had taken care of him and yes, it was his job as the butler to take care of things in the household and by extension the people who lived in the house. But one thing Damian didn’t account for were the times Alfred took special care in remembering things that each of them liked, didn’t like, or couldn’t tolerate.

Pennyworth never once made Damian feel bad or force him to eat meat once he decided to be a vegetarian. Instead he altered recipes and respected Damian’s choice and helped him with his new chosen lifestyle.

Since the day Damian had arrived at Wayne Manor, Pennyworth had been patient with him, respected him and his space. There was no agenda, no act, no conditions.

Pennyworth cared for them all beyond just his role as the butler. His protectiveness for them was more like how a father cares for his children. Did that mean that Pennyworth thought of him, Grayson, Todd and Drake as his grandsons?  

“The cat was a gift from me to you, Master Damian. Because I felt he needed you and that you needed him.

Pennyworth came over to the floor and stroked Alfred’s head lightly.

“I always regretted not getting a pet for your father when he was young. He could have used the distraction and responsibility of caring for a pet to cope with his grief. I saw how well you responded to the task of caring for animals and I felt it was an attribute that should be nurtured. I made the executive decision to add another animal to your growing menagerie.”

“I am not grieving,” Damian retorted.

“Not in the same sense as your father did back then, but you have been through a rather difficult transition. You are adapting to a new lifestyle far removed from the way you had been previously reared. New expectations have also been set upon you now that you are here with your Father; that in itself is much to take in at such a young age.”

“You forget, Pennyworth. I am not a child.”

Pennyworth smiled. “You may have been raised to not think of yourself as a child, but don’t be so quick to grow up. Allow yourself some childhood trivialities. I’m sure there are many that you have yet to experience. Most importantly let others look after you, like me, your Father, and Master Dick.”

Damian nodded.

“Why do you care so much if I’m happy?” Damian asked, ashamed of the vulnerability in his voice.

He regretted the question immediately once the words left his mouth, but he couldn’t take it back. Alfred put his arm around Damian and squeezed him in a side hug.

“Grandads always care to make sure that their grandchildren are loved and happy,” Pennyworth answered, placing a kiss on Damian’s head.

Damian looked up at him. “You see me as a grandson?”

“Since the moment you walked through our doors, Master Damian.”

“But I was so awful to you.”

Alfred smiled and leaned his cheek onto Damian’s head. “I saw potential. Now what do you say to some cookies and hot chocolate?”

Damian laughed and followed Alfred toward the kitchen.  

[cookieundertherock]

Sorry this took so long Star, I hope this is everything you wanted!! I'm so honored that you were my first ever request, it's just so gah!! Exciting!!! Thank you so much for helping me with everything!! I love you!!

This is basically just some really cute fluff☁️☁️☁️ I think Shinsou cusses once, but that's it. Please enjoy!! Send asks in!! Take a peak at my rules!! If someone can like tell my sorry ass how to link them I would be so grateful ;;

Word count: 1.6k

Kitty Cat Confessions

    Shinsou takes a deep breath as he prepares himself.  Today is the day. The day he finally gets up the nerve to ask you, his adorable crush, out.  Fingers crossed that you say yes.

    He takes one more breath before slipping into the library and sitting at the table you normally read at. Before clearing his throat and making his presence known he can’t help but look at you for a moment, admiring your features.

    He always thought your glasses and short hair were cute, but add that to your shy and bookworm personality it just doubles your cuteness. What can he say, he’s always had a soft spot for shy girls.

    After a moment he reaches out and gently taps your shoulder, chuckling as you jump, startling from your concentration.  “Hey (y/n), sorry for startling you but I wanted to ask you something.” He pauses for a moment, his cheeks faintly flushing as he taps his fingers on the table. “I uh, was wondering if you wanted to go with me to check out that cafe place, P-Paws and Whiskers.”

    You blink as you look at the purple-haired boy.  Is he asking you on a date? No, no he couldn’t be asking you on a date.  Shinsou isn’t the date type of person. You flush slightly and dip your head, your hair falling to cover some of your face. “I-is this...um like a- nevermind.  Yeah, I’d like to come with you. What is the theme of this restaurant? It sounds...cat-like.”

    You watch as Shinsou blushes a little more at your question.  Is he...embarrassed? You watch as he chuckles and rubs the back of his neck, your eyes curiously on him. “It’s uh, it’s a cat cafe…” 

You pause for a moment before breaking out into giggles, your hand coming to hide your mouth.  Shinsou wants to take you to a cat cafe: How totally unexpected! “Toshi that’s so like you! I would love to go with you to a cat cafe!  Kitties are cute!”

    The purplenette feels himself flush slightly as you excitedly agree to go with him.  He didn’t expect you to so readily agree to go with him. You look so cute with your cheeks all flushed and your glasses slightly askew.  Oh man, he really has it bad, doesn’t he?

    “So when do you wanna go Toshi?” you ask softly, head tilted adorably.  Shinsou clears his throat glancing at you in adoration. You’re such a cutie.  “Maybe tomorrow, for lunch? Does that sound good mouse?” He asks using the sweet nickname he has for you. 

    When he first met you you hardly spoke.  Despite that fact, you never seemed scared of him and would always give him a little smile and reply to him shyly whenever he would ask you something directly.  He always found it more endearing than anything else because you still eagerly interacted with him. You even squeaked once when he startled you on accident, which is where ‘mouse’ came from.

    You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, (e/c) orbs wide and searching. 

Do you...look good enough?  You reach into your small side bag and pull out a small tube of mascara, some foundation, and a little tube of lipgloss.  Your mom had gotten you a little bit of makeup for your birthday and you decided now was a pretty good time to use it. 

    You glance at your phone anxiously once more.  He said around lunch right? You’re not too early right?  You bite your lip before nearly jumping out of your skin as you see a pair of lilac eyes staring into your own.  “Eep!” You squeak before calming yourself as you process that’s it’s just Shinsou.

    The boy breaks out into a fit of laughter as you squeak and jump causing you to begin to pout.  “That was mean Toshi.” You fume lightly, cheeks puffed out in annoyance. How dare he do this to you!  You hate how much you jump because of the purple-haired boy. It’s even more embarrassing because you like him.  Man, you wish you were less of a scaredy-cat so that he might actually like you.

Shinsou smiles slightly as you calm down and pout at him, your cheeks flushed pink and your eyes cast down.  Gosh, you’re too cute. He chuckles and gently takes your hand, a tender smile on his lips and in his eyes. “Sorry mouse, didn’t meet to startle you.  You ready to-”

    Halting himself mid-sentence, the boy stares at you finally taking in your appearance.  The light makeup you have on highlights your features perfectly. The little bit of dark lip gloss on your lips making them pop, completely drawing the purple-haired boy’s eyes to them.  He really wants to kiss you now because of that. 

    “Hey Hitoshi, you in there?”  Your soft voice finally breaks through the fog in Shinsou’s head.  He repeatedly blinks before smiling slightly awkwardly at you and rubbing the back of his neck.  “Sorry (y/n), I guess I got lost in dreamland. You ready to go to lunch then?” 

    Your small smile and nod are all he needs to make his heart race with excitement and adoration for you.  “Perfect.” He smiles and offers his arm to you. He grins wider as you eagerly loop your arm through his, your (e/c) eyes shining.  “Alright little mouse, let’s go get some lunch.”

    You stare around the little cafe with wide eyes, awed with the decoration and cats.  You giggle as a white and black cat with a missing leg comes and rubs itself against your own leg.  Reaching down you rub its ears, cooing softly to it. “Hey kitty, whatcha doing cutie?”

    You giggle again as the cat meows at you, golden eyes shining bright. You glance up at Shinsou, a grin on your face.  “Isn’t it a pretty kitty Toshi?” At his nod and smile, you stand and take his hand in a moment of boldness and lead him to the counter so you can order.

    After ordering you lead your cat-loving friend to a corner filled with felines and sit down, watching in adoration as he settles down and pulls a tiny brown kitten into his lap.  Look at him, he’s so cute. Fluffy purple hair and pretty purple eyes and a nice smile. Other people say he’s scary and tired looking, but you never see that. All you see is your sweet, lovable Toshi...the sweet lovable Toshi who you’re hopelessly crushing on.

    Lunch passes quickly as you and Shinsou practically inhale your food so you can play with the cats again.  You enjoy yourself thoroughly as you talk to your purple-haired crush and give love to the needy felines. You glance up from the fluffy cat in your lap to see that the sun is almost setting. "Wow," you comment softly, "it's sunset."

Shinsou glances up from the cat he was petting. Wow, you're right, it is dusk. He looks over at you and is blown away with what he sees. The soft light from the setting sun perfectly illuminates your cute face.  Before he even realizes it, he’s moving across the floor and over to your side. Guess his body has decided that it’s time to confess. He leans close to you and lets out a hot breath. “Please don’t hate me,” he mumbles, eyes flicking to your lips, “but I can’t hold myself back anymore.”

Your eyes shoot wide open behind your lenses as you feel a pair of surprisingly soft lips, Shinsou’s lips to be exact, press against yours.  You’re completely thrown off guard with his bold move. You never expected this, especially from the rather anti-social purplenette.  

After a moment Shinsou pulls away and stares at you.  As he continues to look at you, searching for some sort of reaction, his lilac eyes flood with pain and rejection.  There’s nothing on your face. You hate him now too. “O-oh…” he barely whispers out, “I guess I made a mistake huh?  I guess you’re gonna leave me now too…”

You stare at the boy before you for a moment before you barrel into him, your lips managing to find his as you rather sloppily return his kiss.  You can’t lose him, not because he thinks you don’t love him. You pull out of the quick kiss and pant, your glasses slightly askew. “I could never hate you Shinsou Hitoshi, not when I love you.”

Shinsou stares at you for a moment, stunned at your surprisingly blunt statement and bold action.  You- you love him? Suddenly he laughs, startling a couple of the cats before he wraps his arms around you in an awkward hug.  “Oh my gosh! Holy shit! I-I can’t believe it! You love me!  I’ve been wanting to tell you how I feel for so long!  I-I just- this is amazing!”

You know your face is burning as you attempt to hug the purple-haired boy back, but that isn’t what matters.  What matters is that you’re here in the arms of the person you love and the person who loves you. You can’t help but giggle as you turn to Shinsou and place a kiss to his nose.  “I’m so glad you kissed me Hitoshi. I would’ve never have had the courage to admit my feelings for you.”

The soft “Me too” and the new weight on your shoulder you receive from Shinsou is all you need to know that this is a thing now.  You, the quiet, bookworm, four-eyed girl are now together with a budding hero. What more could you ask for? And all you had to thank was this cute little cat cafe and its cats.  Thanks kitties.

[skycancats]

Chapter Ten

Sky felt something nudge her side.

She blinked, turning her head to see what had interrupted her slumber, and found the form of Rambo hovering above her, a mouse in his jaws. He said something, but she couldn’t understand the words through the prey in his mouth. He seemed to realise his mistake there, and he set the mouse down near her head.

“For you,” he said, nodding to it, before he spoke again. “Sky, I wanted to talk to you.”

Sky was reminded that he had said the exact same words the other day, and amused herself with the thought that Rambo sure wanted to talk to her quite a bit. She abstained from teasing, though, and gave him an expectant look, shifting and drawing the mouse closer to herself, having not thought she would be so hungry upon waking.

“I know I’ve said so already, but I wanted to tell you that I really do like your ideas. I’ll admit, the idea of a new name is interesting, even if these clan names sound a little weird.” Sky’s whiskers twitched in amusement. She agreed with that much, but she was intent on creating a real clan.

“What I’m getting at,” he continued, “is that I think that you should give one of us a name now. Ease slowly into this, if you know what I mean.”

“And who would I be giving a name to?” Sky asked, looking up from the mouse.

Rambo looked coy, and did not answer, but Sky had caught on. She knew what he was alluding to, and she actually thought it was a great idea. It seemed like a smart way to get everyone used to the idea, and she could not find a reason to tell him no. Finally, she nodded. “Gather everyone at moon-high, then,” she said. “I’ll need time to think until then.”

Seeming satisfied, Rambo nodded, and he excused himself, leaving Sky alone with her thoughts. Digging into her muse a little more, she found herself wondering what to do with his name.

The name ‘Rambo’ sounded weird. It never felt right to get her mouth around, and she wondered if the other cats felt the same about that. Unlike names like Mottle, she felt like she couldn’t simply add a word to it. It didn’t seem proper. That said, she wasn’t sure what to change it to. She started to consider the things that defined him. He had a pleasant attitude. Sky got along famously with him, and he hardly seemed to disagree with the rest of the group. He was fine at taking responsibility, but she didn’t know what to do about that.

Her thoughts shifted to his appearance. He was big and handsome, of course, though she wondered a little more about his paws. She had never outwardly brought it up, but she had noticed that his looked different from hers and the rest of the cats. He had more toes than she was sure was normal. It never seemed to hinder him, but it was interesting. She wondered if calling attention to those would be cruel or not, though, and she wondered about calling him back in and discussing it with him, but perhaps she should leave it a surprise.

Knowing Rambo, though, and his general attitude, he would be happy with anything. That was what Sky was hoping for, anyway. She had an idea, finally, something that sounded very right to her ears, and she desperately hoped that he would find it as fitting as she did.

Polishing off the mouse, she finally rose to her feet, stretching slowly, and headed towards the entrance.

Moon-high seemed to take forever to arrive.

Sky was sure she could have called sooner, but she felt it more important to adhere to a schedule. Certainly, a smart leader would keep to their plans, she reasoned.

Finally, when it had arrived, she stood among the rest of the group, the cats gathered around her. Mottle had left her den to join was well – Beetle and Apple were napping, it seemed, though the queen glanced back towards the den cautiously. Sky figured she could make this quick.

She cleared her throat, about to speak, before she felt a nudge at her side. It was Rambo, and he made a gesture at a small boulder. It wasn’t much taller than the rest of them, and Sky felt hot for a moment, realizing that, as leader, she probably should be addressing them from a better vantage point.

Brushing off her brief embarrassment, she leapt onto the boulder, and cleared her throat again.

Her voice sounded awkward to her own ears. “I’m proud to say that Rambo has offered to be the first among us to receive a name for his clan,” she said. Rambo stepped forward, and she was glad that she hadn’t had to ask him to do so. “I am hoping that this will be the first of many names that I am allowed to bestow.”

Rambo seemed to hold a kitten-like excitement in his eyes, and Sky was almost taken aback by it. Was he really this excited? Now she was even more worried about letting him down. She tried not to let that get to her, and carried on, watching him carefully and studying his body language.

“Rambo, from here on out, you will be called Crookedclaw. I hope that you bear it well.” The words still seemed awkward, tumbling out of her mouth like that, but it didn’t matter, because to her relief, Rambo looked thrilled with the name. Sky hopped down to meet him, and Crookedclaw stepped forward, butting his head to Sky’s shoulder. She could hardly hear the congratulations he was getting over the sound of his purr.

“Thank you,” he said, in a low murmur that only Sky could hear. “I’ll cherish it.”

Sky looked past him, to Mottle, and the warmth in her eyes made Sky feel like she was bathing in sunlight.

[thunder-the-ranger-wolf]

Prologue

Chapter One

One of these days, I'm going to catch that mouse! 

Rusty was annoyed. He'd awoken in the same stifling, airless kitchen he's had for the last few months. Instead of the tantalizing scent of mouse, his bland, dusty kibble filled his nostrils. 

At least they could put some gravy on it.

He'd had gravy at Smudge’s house before, and it tasted wonderful! Apparently, he wasn't so lucky here. 

To add insult to injury, Rusty's been having the same hunting dream every night for the past week! Seven days is a long time to be taunted with failed hopes.

Perhaps going outside will do me some good… 

One thing was for sure. He wouldn't be eating that dry, tasteless kibble for another night! 

Outside, the moon was bright and the light rain washed away all hope of a scent. Rusty stalked through the garden, following the starlit gravel path, feeling the stones cold and sharp beneath his paws. He made dirt beneath a large bush with glossy green leaves and heavy purple flowers. Their sickly sweet scent cloyed the damp air around him, and he curled his lip to drive the smell out of his nostrils.

Afterward, Rusty settled down on top of one of the posts in the fence that marked the limits of his garden. It was a favorite spot of his. It let him see right into the neighboring gardens as well as the dense green forest on the other side of the fence. The rain had stopped. Behind him, the close-cropped lawn was bathed in moonlight, but beyond his fence, the woods were full of shadows. Rusty stretched his head forward to take a sniff of the damp air. His skin was warm and dry under his thick coat, but he could feel the weight of the raindrops that sparkled on his ginger fur. 

Suddenly the fur on his spine prickled. 

Is something moving out there? Is something watching me?

Rusty stared ahead, but it was impossible to see or smell anything in the dark, tree-scented air. He lifted his chin boldly, stood up, and stretched; one paw gripped each corner of the fencepost as he straightened his legs and arched his back. He closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of the woods once more. It seemed to promise him something, tempting him onward into the whispering shadows. Tensing his muscles, he crouched for a moment. Then he leaped lightly down into the rough grass on the other side of the garden fence. As he landed, the bell on his collar rang out through the still night air.

No! Rusty wanted to wail. Just like in his dream, the bell of his blasted collar hindered his efforts.

“Where are you off to, Rusty?” meowed a familiar voice behind him. 

The ginger tom glanced up, annoyed, to find his friend Smudge attempting to balance on the fence. 

“Get down before you hurt yourself.” Rusty scowled. 

“But you're on the other side of the fence! We both know if I fall down that I'm not getting back up.” The black and white tom mewed balefully. “Besides, you still haven't told me where you're going.” 

“Out.” Rusty scoffed. 

“Out? We're already out! Unless you mean…”

“The forest, yeah.”

“Why'd you do a crazy thing like that?! Don't you know they'll eat us house cats for breakfast?!”

“You've been listening to Henry again. I keep telling you that he's never gone into the woods. He's only trying to scare you.”

“Well, it's working.” Smudge yelped as he joined his friend on the ground. 

“I thought you didn't want to fall.” Rusty snickered.

“If you're going to go into the woods, I have to get my goodbyes in while I can.” Smudge insisted.

“I might come back out.” Rusty protested.

“You won't.” Smudge informed his friend. Rusty deflated.

“I might not.” He admitted soberly. “I keep having this dream about a mouse I can never catch. I feel like maybe if I go in the forest, I'll stop having the dream.” 

Whatever makes sense to you works for me.” Smudge offered. “Just… be careful, okay? We're probably not all that impressive to those wildcats.” 

The two toms touched noses and Rusty bounded into the forest. Whatever he found, he was sure to never have that dream again!

Instinct made him drop into a low crouch. With one slow paw after another, he drew his body forward through the undergrowth. Ears pricked, nostrils flared, eyes unblinking, he moved toward the animal. He could see it clearly now, sitting up among the barbed branches, nibbling on a large seed held between its paws. 

It was a mouse, just like in his dream! 

Rusty rocked his haunches from side to side, preparing to leap. He held his breath in case his bell rang again. Excitement coursed through him, making his heart pound. This was even better than his dreams! Then a sudden noise of cracking twigs and crunching leaves made him jump. His bell jangled treacherously, and the mouse darted away into the thickest tangle of the bramble bush. 

“Grrrhaaaaa!” Rusty spat, frustrated. At this point he'd keep having that dream for the rest of his life! 

A noise made Rusty freeze in his tracks. The ginger tomcat went completely still and looked around. He could see the white tip of a red bushy tail trailing through a clump of tall ferns up ahead. He smelled a strong, strange scent. It was definitely a meat-eater, but neither cat nor dog. Distracted, Rusty forgot about the mouse and watched the red tail curiously, hoping for a better look. All of Rusty’s senses strained as he prowled forward, careful not to shake his collar too much.

Suddenly, Rusty stopped. Twitched his ears. Another noise. It came from behind, but sounded muted and distant. He swiveled his head backward to hear it better. 

Pawsteps? He wondered, keeping his eyes fixed on the strange red fur up ahead, and continuing to creep onward.

It was only when the faint rustling behind him became a loud and fast-approaching leaf-crackle that Rusty realized he might actually be in trouble.

The creature hit him like an explosion, and Rusty barely managed to turn around before he was thrown sideways into a clump of nettles. Twisting and hissing, he tried to throw off the attacker that had fastened itself to his back. It was gripping him with incredibly sharp claws. Rusty could feel spiked teeth pricking at his neck. He writhed and squirmed from whisker to tail, but he couldn’t free himself. 

For a second he felt helpless; then he froze. Thinking fast, he flipped over onto his back. He knew instinctively how dangerous it was to expose his soft belly, but it was his only chance. 

He was lucky that the other tom fell for such a trick. He felt a rush of hot air on his neck as the breath was knocked out of his attacker. Only one problem: he hadn’t counted on his collar getting caught, so now the enemy had him by the throat!. Thrashing fiercely, Rusty managed to wriggle free of both his attacker and the collar.

Without looking back he sprinted deeper into the forest. Behind him, a rush of pawsteps told Rusty his attacker was giving chase.

Even though the pain from his scratches stung beneath his fur, Rusty decided he would rather turn and fight than let himself be jumped on again. 

He skidded to a stop, spun around, and faced his pursuer. It was an older cat, with a thick coat of shaggy grey fur, strong legs, and a broad face. In a heartbeat, Rusty smelled that it was a tom, and sensed the power in the sturdy shoulders underneath the soft coat.

Then the tom crashed into Rusty at full pelt. Taken by surprise by Rusty’s turnabout, it fell back into a dazed heap. The impact knocked the breath out of Rusty, and he staggered. He quickly found his footing and arched his back, puffing out his orange fur and ready to spring onto the larger tom. But his attacker simply sat up and began to lick a forepaw, all signs of aggression gone.

Rusty narrowed his eyes. 

“Hi there, kittypet! You put up quite the fight for a tame kitty.” 

Rusty huffed and rolled his eyes. Clearly he wasn't as tame as this cat thought. Had Rusty been anything more like Smudge, he would have run.

I came here to stop having these weird dreams, but… am I in over my head?!

“You must think you're something special, don't you?” Rusty sneered.

One time, an older cat said that after Rusty clawed his nose for messing with Smudge. Rusty wasn't special, but he got the cat to back off. 

“Sure do. I'm going to be a warrior of ThunderClan!” The grey tom boasted. “You're just a kittypet from the Twolegplace.”

“So how's it feel to get beaten by a kittypet?” Rusty taunted. The insult felt strange on his tongue, and while he didn't know what it meant, he knew that his words were making the other cat mad. 

“You think you've beaten me? I could hold you down with one paw and not strain a muscle! I could pick you up by the scruff and I bet you wouldn't even weigh a thing!” 

“Try it!” Rusty scoffed. “Since I'm just a kittypet and you're a big, brave warrior.” 

“What, and kill you in the process? I don't think so. Warriors can't kill in battle. It's one of our rules.” 

“Then what's the point of all your training? If you're not going to do anything, I can actually catch a mouse this time. You ruined that, thanks.” 

“You shouldn't even be in the forest. Go home, kittypet. This isn't your world.” 

Rusty knew exactly what those words meant. One time, when he'd gone too far past his gate and into the city, he ran into an alley cat who told him about the same thing this dumb tom was trying to now. 

Like you have a clue what my world looks like!” Rusty snapped. “If you're such a big bad cat, then what are you doing out here? You've got the entire forest to roam around. Why'd you come bother me, huh?” 

“Because you're in our territory, young one.” 

The voice that floated to his ears sounded far warmer than this tom’s. 

“We do have the forest, but this is part of it. Why should we tolerate outsiders like you entering our home and taking our food without permission?” 

“It's just a mouse!” Rusty scowled. “You'd think your precious warriors wouldn't be so picky about it. Don't you eat bigger things than me for breakfast?”

“Myth.” The motherly voice chuckled. “And not a very good one. We are cats, after all.” 

[thevultur]

Pumpkin: Your character and mine doing some halloween decorating Snow: Our characters in the cold together (Couldn't decide on one- sorry)

i. Although facing yet another arena concept he wasn’t a fan of, Lysander took the assignment as seriously as ever, trying to understand it through its ridiculousness. What wasn’t scary was easy to add teeth on and throw a black, wicked cap over in order to give nicknames to one lucky out of twenty-four and thousands of traumatized watchers. What was already supposed to be parodying the scary - like Halloween and its imaginary monsters - he could never take seriously. So when he found himself in the Halloween costume and supply store just before the season, for research, he huffed derisively, glaring persistently at every cheaply made mask and not touching a thing, disgusted. 

   And there she was, the only bright spot between atrocities of pumpkins and silly witch hats. At the sight of Clover, the usual question invaded his mind, unsure if to approach her or pretend he hadn’t seen her until she noticed him back. It was embarrassing altogether to be found in such a context, especially since he wasn’t there for shopping. As he was thinking, her eyes flashed in his direction, catching him, and her lips spread into the widest, whitest smile possible as the room suddenly lit up.

    Instinctively, Lysander reached for a mask to his right - a mouse mask with silly whiskers and dusty pink ears - and covered his face with it as first reaction, which stole a chuckle from her before she put down the princess veiled tiara she was trying on and headed his way, to say hello or perhaps squeak his way mousily. The mask stood on Lysander’s face, hoping that it would just make her walk past him, suddenly invisible, but as she approached, she knocked on the shelf, smirk painted on her face. “Knock, knock,” she announced and raised her eyebrows in a curious manner, expression on her face serene.

   “Who’s there?” he muttered back, peeked up his mask and then putting it down. As they finally faced each other without walls, Lysander sighed, defeated. She would always win, no matter what, everything, from the Games and on. “Okay, okay, busted,” the man raised his hands defensively, as if in front of a peacekeeper and confessing a crime. “But in my defense, I’m not here for the mask,” he promised, finally looking at it and huffing a silent laughter at the animal choice. That was how quiet he wanted to get, after all. 

   “Well, what are you here for?” Clover’s eyebrows raised, looking all kind and calm and Lysander let out a long sigh, knowing that the answer would risk him a career and, incidentally, his life - and probably her, too, if it was learned that the secret of the arena, classified otherwise, got out - and not wanting to risk it for anything. She blocked him with the question, but Lysander was a quick enough thinker. He was intelligent, calm even in limit situations and analytical enough not to lose all the little control he had left. 

  “Good question,” he noted, nodding approvingly, although it was the worst possible question, putting him in a tricky position that he howsoever thought he knew how to get out of. “It was going to be a surprise, but I am throwing a Halloween party. Yes, me,” he strengthened his argument, nodding strongly as he noticed her surprise and amusement. “Though, admittedly, I don’t know half as much about this as you do.”

   Her face lit up, always cheerful, even when she wasn’t, inside. “Well, it’s a good thing I almost picked out the princess crown. Or were you not going to invite me?” Clover teased him, always between being acquaintances and friends in a game of up and down. She would eventually win that one too.

   Lysander shook his head firmly. “Now I have to,” he sighed, as if forced to write an invitation to the party that wasn’t happening until she came along. “But a crown?” His nose crinkled at the tackiness that he didn’t take Clover for. “I would have imagined you would dress up as a flower.” She was a flower after all.

   A simper escaped her lips sweetly. He couldn’t help but mirror it, a bit more contained. “Should I be worried about the scariness of the party?” He was a Gamemaker after all, and Halloween wasn’t always as smiley as some people preferred it. Not that she minded most of the times.”Perhaps I should tag along, make sure you’re not taking this at an arena level. It’s a party, after all. I do know more about Halloween than you.”

   Lysander had to agree, three quarters relieved and unable to believe that he was an inch away from throwing a party - yes, him of all people - so spontaneously. He knew nothing of the sort. He had nobody to invit, except for a few courteous acquaintances. But he got carried away, and she offered to help decorating. “It’s a party, not a funeral,” the Gamemaker agreed, musing over the details. “I could maybe use a deputy too.” She was already picking up pumpkin garlands. He felt obligated to sigh again. 

ii. It wasn’t supposed to be snowing. The moment he saw the first snowflake out the window as they were having lunch in the taco restaurant he hated, his heart froze because he didn’t know Clover during winter time. He didn’t know if she melted snow or if that white made her choke on repressed memories. Now, he hoped they would never have to leave that awful place only she liked eating in, so that he wouldn’t find out.

   But she was done with her plate, using a napkin against her lips and standing up gracefully. He almost claimed that he got hungry and was ready to request a second taco when even the first one - vegetarian, of course - wasn’t half eaten, but no matter how much he would stall, he couldn’t stall the weather forever and sixteen winters had passed since her cold victory. She had to have some coping mechanism, a way to breathe through the snow. 

   Opening the door reluctantly, he noticed the expression on her face. How her heart skipped just one bit, as if she was recalling some old nightmare that would occasionally visit, as if she was casting away ghosts in her empty house. Then, she stepped outside, and he didn’t know what to say, just witness to the winter miracle.

   She bent to even touch the snow that must have been the main topic of her dreams, alongside those about her loved ones being tortured - Lysander couldn’t imagine how that felt like, though it made him wonder. He flinched for her as her bare hands caressed the thin layer of snow and gathered it all together in her palm. Before he could tell, she was holding a snowball, and before he could tell, she was no longer holding a snowball. It took bravery to own the snow and it took bravery to toss it at Lysander, hitting his shoulder playfully - purposefully missing, as her aim was spotless and he wasn’t that far away. He could have gone upset. He didn’t.

   He looked down at her in pure awe. She was the strongest person he had ever met.