I'll take thee away [Open to 1]

Young Branwen had been wandering aimlessly for quite some time. However lost she might've been, she didn't feel like it. She was overcome with the urge to explore and venture out into the deep woods or onto the rolling hills. To see what was out there, beyond the cages of captivity. Ignorance led her over the ShadowClan border without hesitation, her nose so used to the smell of urine that it blocked out the scent markers left there altogether.

Thus far, she had survived off of bugs and things like berries or tasty plants. Cats needed meat, but with no knowledge of how to hunt, she had very little luck pursuing live prey... and was beginning to thin. It was noticeable even under her fluff, though she was not bothered by it herself. She was used to the gnawing feeling of hunger in her belly, knew it well enough to ignore it.

With a start, Branwen caught sight of a dark brown tail slithering between the trees ahead. At first, she thought to turn and run. But she didn't know anyone around there, and she knew nothing of the area. Perhaps they could tell her some information - something she didn't know. Curiosity dragged the long-pelted white cat toward where the stranger had disappeared like iron to a magnet.

She eventually found herself some ten feet from the stranger, and arrived on the scene just in time to witness their magnificent catch. Branwen was captivated by the cat's feat.

"Bravo! That was wonderful!" Branwen praised the darker-furred cat enthusiastically [and rather casually], having not the slightest idea that she was not where she ought to be. "Think you could show me how to do that?"

Her wide blue eyes were bright with wonder and admiration. She had seen many of those green hopping things ever since her escape into the wild, but never had she been able to catch anything with such speed and accuracy - or at all, for that matter. She'd never thought to catch those things. Once, she'd stepped on one with her paw and the slimy feeling was unpleasant enough to keep her stomach from getting any ideas.

words:: 357
tags:: RUSSETNOSE
notes:: hope you don't mind that I kept my word! Russet can inflict a minor injury if you want, but nothing serious please & thanks!

It didn't seem to matter that Branwen had praised the cat; every word she'd said had gone right over their furry brown head. The piece of prey was forgotten as the opposing cat moved toward her in a less-than-friendly manner. Branwen took a few cautious steps back, but her rump bumped into a tree trunk. The brown she-cat's face was a few hairs' widths away. Branwen could smell her stinking hot breath. Her pale pink nose wrinkled slightly, but she made no comment. Well, she couldn't; the cat had already started speaking:

"Did you not smell our rather well placed border around here."

Branwen's ears flicked before folding backward nervously. "I smelled no such thing!" She said adamantly, suddenly regaining her composure and perking her ears up again. She didn't like how close or aggressive this stranger was getting. In her peripheral, Branwen noticed a scar on the grumpy cat's shoulder. Questions began buzzing around in her mind. Were those from another cat? Do they normally fight around here? Is that the kind of life I'd have to live; grumpy and scarred up and fighting for survival...?

Again the she-cat spoke - harshly and without consideration. "Get out and I won't ring your neck. These are clan cat lands - if you know nothing of starclan then beat it and go find a nice kittypet to feed you. Face facts, you'll die out here if you don't."

Resolution seated itself deep in Branwen's heart. Alright, she'd do it then. She'd learn how to fight, how to hunt, how to live here, and one day she'd be able to fight this stink-breath and make her take back all the venom she was spewing. She almost challenged, 'I'd like to see you try' but she knew better than to go picking fights with strangers. Instead of making any foolish decisions, Branwen moved herself out from between the pine tree and the stranger, putting a good few tail-lengths between them for good measure - and if the cat tried to get in her face again she just might be tempted enough to actually smack her. I mean, the audacity! Who does she think she is? Personal space was personal space; Branwen didn't want to be in hers - or for her to be in Branwen's. Wen wasn't scared of this cat. Intimidated? Maybe. Not scared.

She used a lot of words that Branwen did not know. Clan cat? So, there were more of her around? Branwen shook out her pelt, trying to keep her fur flat and to stay reasonable. If she let instinct [and offense] guide her, she might've given this cat a good smack already. But... the stranger was stronger than her, and obviously more knowledgeable. One thing, though, Branwen knew to be false. She wouldn't die. It made her realize how biased and wrong this cat was. It seemed almost as though the other cat had something to prove.

"Alright-" She had to bite her tongue to keep from calling the stranger 'grumpy' and other, more offensive profanities "-You're clearly defending your land here, and I respect that, but I'm not trying to take it so don't get your tail all in a twist over lil' ole me. I'm just passing through." The word 'clan' tumbled around her lips awkwardly; a foreign word to her, "What are these 'clan cats' you're talking about? And kittypets? What a ridiculous term! Where I come from you're either caged or free. And if by kittypet you mean caged, then I will not go back to that. I don't care how much they feed me; there's more to life than getting fat off dry food and staying in a cage all your days. If you think that would make me happy then you don't know nearly as much as you'd like to think."

words:: 648
tags:: RUSSETNOSE
notes:: same as before about the minor injury. otherwise, nothing. bran might be in for it this time e.e