Sigh
New Warrior
159 Posts
EST; he/him; mid-twenties
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Post by Sigh on Jul 17, 2022 0:34:57 GMT
cyril An unseasonably warm day found Cyril making his way to the edge of the twolegplace, skirting the edges of snow-sodden yards and passing below the occasional plume of smoke issuing from the stony towers some housefolk kept for reasons beyond Cyril's understanding. He found that most of the other neighborhood cats kept indoors for the entirety of the leafbare season. He would have been one of them, save for the itch to stretch his legs when the weather and his body would allow. One other cat seemed to have heard the call of the outdoors, though. A familiar brown tabby was out and about—although perhaps 'about' was a generous term; he was sleeping in a pool of sunlight. Cyril snorted inelegantly. Old Dusty. He comes out to enjoy the fresh air and just falls asleep?Eyeing the scene, Cyril contemplated his options. He could just pounce on the old tom to spook him, but he liked to think he was above such kit-like antics—both emotionally and physically. There was, however, a thin tree with a coating of snow melting in the sunlight. While not directly above Dusty's sleeping form, it was close enough that maybe... Cyril approached as quietly as his body would allow, and rested both his paws on the base of the trunk. The trunk was narrow, and his oversized feet were just large enough to slide off the edge rather than fitting comfortably against the base. Cyril persevered though, and shifted his weight towards the tree. It swayed the slightest amount, just enough to dislodge a few flakes of snow from the branches, and just enough of those branches landed right where Cyril wanted them: atop Dusty's head. |
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Riley
Head of Advertising
349 Posts
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Post by Riley on Jul 20, 2022 4:36:32 GMT
Dusty enjoyed sunny days. Perhaps even more surprising, he enjoyed sunny days with chilly air. He enjoyed the sunshine warming up his pelt with the cold air chilling his blood. It was the perfect blend for him and almost put him in the mood for a good conversation. ALMOST. When pawsteps approached where he was resting with his eyes closed, Dusty did everything he could to appear asleep. Deep breathing, muscles relaxed, even the occasional twitch. He'd practically MASTERED the art of appearing asleep.
The pawsteps stopped, perhaps the cat was debating on whether to 'wake' him or not, but eventually they wandered away with the pawsteps being carefully lighter than they were before. Good. That's right, move on, nothing to see here-
SPLAT. Snow melt landed on him, directly on his head, and Dusty bolted up and away, shaking his head to dislodge it. Trickles of icy water penetrated his fur, and Dusty ended up shivering. He glared around, looking for the culprit, and found Cyril standing by the tree, having obviously shaken it to dislodge the snow.
No sudden moves Dusty. Don't show your agitation just yet. "Cyril. Lovely to see you, as always." Dusty drawled sarcastically, shaking his head even more. He took his time standing and stretching, making a show of just how NOT mad he was, before wandering closer. "Still kicking, I see. Let's do something about that, shall we?" Deeming himself close enough, Dusty launched himself at his neighbor, fully intending on smothering him in the snow.
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Sigh
New Warrior
159 Posts
EST; he/him; mid-twenties
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Post by Sigh on Aug 1, 2022 22:48:31 GMT
cyril Cyril was proud of his tomfoolery for about as long as it took Dusty to decide to do something in retaliation. For all their mutual grumbling, Cyril was easily the less steady of the two. He stumbled, with very little resistance, into the snowbank, taking the full brunt of Dusty's attack—though perhaps 'attack' was putting it a bit strongly; Dusty was no spry kit himself. Still, the other tom's response had been enough to coat Cyril's fur in an unpleasant layer of snow and icy water. Shivering, he righted himself. "Pardon me, Dusty," Cyril grumbled. He powered on, trying to will away the slight quake in his voice that came with the sudden shock of cold. "I only wanted to make sure you were still alive and well. One of these days you could just go to sleep and not wake up, you know." He cleared his throat, not accustomed to speaking for so long. "And I go through all that trouble for you, for this?" He shook his fur out for emphasis, and to dislodge some of the particularly stubborn ice crystals. "No one has any respect for their elders, these days." If Cyril saw any irony in criticizing both Dusty's age and his youth in the same breath, he did not let it stop him. Moving away from the snowbank in the hopes of avoiding another encounter with it, Cyril cleared his throat again. "What are you doing out and about on a day like this anyway? Thought you'd be huddled up in the nest." |
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Riley
Head of Advertising
349 Posts
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Post by Riley on Aug 6, 2022 5:47:39 GMT
Dusty only backed off once he was satisfied Cyril was suitably covered with the icky sludge the half-melted snow had turned into. He took a few steps back, just in case his old neighbor slash friend decided to retaliate. Really, Dusty should have known better. Neither of them were exactly spring chicks, and even that one short leap had caused Dusty's joints to start aching.
Didn't stop Cyril from waxing poetic. Dusty watched in a carefully crafted mask of annoyed irritation, not letting his amusement show. He lost that battle when Cyril said nobody respected elders these days. He let out a snort with a short, wheezy chuckle before retorning, "I don't think our age difference means much in the grand scheme of things, Cyril. Not when both of us have bones that creak when we move too fast."
The question of what he was doing out brought another snort, but this one was made in contempt alongside a scowl and a sweep of his tail. "My housefolk have a new kit. The female finally gave birth. The thing is smaller than I am but it is LOUD. Kept me up half the night with it's bawling. So yes, I'd rather be out here in the cold and wet than put up with that squawking."
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Sigh
New Warrior
159 Posts
EST; he/him; mid-twenties
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Post by Sigh on Aug 11, 2022 23:26:17 GMT
cyril The subtle creak of the spotted tom's joints seemed to prove Dusty's point as Cyril adjusted his position. Unfortunately, it looked as if he would just have to wait; his wet fur was destined to dry at the whims of the wind rather than through the sheer strength of Cyril's desire to not be damp on even the slightest of chilly days. And as if the cold wasn't enough, Dusty's next statement was more than sufficient to freeze Cyril where he stood. By all the stars in the sky, a kit ? Cyril, not the most loquacious of cats even on his best days, maintained a stunned silence for a beat. Then, realizing he ought to perhaps voice his thoughts—after all, what could two elderly toms do but complain about the state of youths these days?—he barked out a gruff "A kit?" He allowed another pause to collect his thoughts. "What a dilemma, having to choose between sitting out in the cold or listening to a yowling kit. A pitiful state you find yourself in." Though it was not his intention for the statement to come across as sarcastic, Cyril worried that his voice had become stuck in such a tone. Then he stopped worrying upon realizing that he didn't particularly care whether or not Dusty took it as genuine sympathy or not; they had bigger things to think about than petty grudges... He hazarded a glance through the panes of glass into Dusty's housefolks' nest, both hoping for and dreading a glimpse of the notorious racket-maker. Unsurprisingly, no such glimpse was forthcoming; Cyril's vision was not what it used to be (helped along not at all by his inevitable squint), and it was unreasonable to expect noisy kits to magically appear in the wake of their mention—or was it? Well, better safe than sorry, Cyril thought, and stood from his seated position with another predictable creak. "Care for a walk to take your mind off your troubles?" |
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Riley
Head of Advertising
349 Posts
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Post by Riley on Sept 12, 2022 2:10:05 GMT
Perhaps a lesser cat would have thought the exclamation was sarcastic, but Dusty had known Cyril a long time. Most of his adult life, in fact. The tone might have come across as gruff, but Dusty knew the sentiment behind it was true. So rather than take offense, Dusty snorted in agreement. He did almost bark a laugh when Cyril tried to catch a glimpse through the window only to quickly abandon that quest in exchange for offering a walk.
Dusty pretended to ponder the offer. Not for long, of course, but at least for a few heartbeats. Then he shrugged lightly, pretending for all the world like HE was doing CYRIL a favor by acquiescing to his request. "Might as well. Not getting anything done here." He glanced back at his nest, but turned away from it quick enough. He'd be back soon. He'd never been gone long enough for his housefolk to worry before, and he wasn't about to start now.
He very dutifully ignored the tiny whisper of 'would they even notice' that floated through his mind and made a grand gesture with a forepaw. "Lead the way, old friend." he meowed with a rusty purr.
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Sigh
New Warrior
159 Posts
EST; he/him; mid-twenties
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Post by Sigh on Sept 20, 2022 0:16:51 GMT
cyril "When are you getting anything done?" Cyril mumbled under his breath. It was the sort of gentle ribbing that had defined their relationship of many moons, but he still was careful to not speak too loudly—though, whether or not Dusty actually heard the comment was, ultimately, inconsequential. It was hard to tell how good his hearing actually was. Cyril's for instance, was not what it once had been, although it certainly didn't seem to be drastically muted. That, of course, did not stop him from complaining about his failing hearing (and sight, and limbs, and faculties, etc etc). Dusty's own complaints in such a vein were as such subject to some scrutiny. While his hearing might in fact not be up to the task of picking up on Cyril's snide remark, there was a non-zero chance that he would still hear it. A possibility that, Cyril thought, while not free from consequence, was nothing much to worry about; nothing he could say to Dusty would be worse than dumping snow on his sleeping head. Been there, done that, as it were. Regardless, Dusty's epithet of old friend dredged up a modicum of guilt for Cyril. Luckily he was well-trained at ignoring inconvenient emotions. He led the way. "Careful how you move those paws of yours. Wouldn't want to hurt yourself." Not that Cyril couldn't appreciate the drama of the gesture, but he himself was not brave enough to hazard such a movement; he had long since given up on any attempts at grace. This surrender was obvious in his gait, the uneven shuffle that defined most of his adult life. Yet he moved steadily away from Dusty's home, from both of their homes, towards the sparse treeline where the strange, blocky nests ended. If they were running (metaphorically) from their troubles, then it was best to be thorough about it. Not too far, but far enough to be amongst the trees and thistle rather than the housefolk and screaming kits. |
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Post by ryaptor on Nov 11, 2022 5:13:07 GMT
 shade
13 moons | he/him | loner
Shade had mixed feelings about the season of leafbare. Hunting was much harder, but there was snow! The young tom did not often feel the cold, only shivering in the darkest of nights. He could go for hours jumping in snow drifts, catching snow flakes, all that good fun stuff! That was what he was currently up too, dashing through his familiar forest, having a blast. He could jump up high and smack branches so snow would fall on him, slide across rocks slick with ice. Of course it wasn't as fun without his siblings, even Thorn would sometimes join in, if mother wasn't worried about him getting sick.
Eventually the young tom settled a little, flopping onto some snow to catch his breath, licking some stray fur flat. He rolled about in the snow a little before getting up, shaking his long fur before Shade decided it was time to try and hunt. He set off at a trot, following familiar paths to spots he knew usually had fresh kill even in the cold. A good trick was to hunt near the twolegplace. Smaller creatures liked to shelter near them in the cold, and then they'd come back into the forest to forage during the day.
As he drew near, Shade crouched down to slink through the undergrowth. He had to be especially careful, fur obvious again the white snow. He looked out towards the twolegplace fence, squinting as the snow reflected the sun on this unseasonably warm day. He quickly spotted two shapes moving a little slowly and his heart stopped. Whether it was wishful thinking or a trick of the light, the two distant figures looked like his mother and Petal! They had come home!
Shade gave an enthusiastic meow and leapt from the undergrowth to dash towards the pair, very quickly realising his mistake. He tried to skid to a stop but the ground was slippery, making him slide a few extra feet than he wanted. A bit of snow would spray the two toms, Shade blinking at the pair for a moment before sheepishly saying. "You're not my mother and sister..."
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Riley
Head of Advertising
349 Posts
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Post by Riley on Nov 12, 2022 8:48:53 GMT
Dusty's ear twitched at the grumble, but the words themselves were lost to the wind. He wasn't worried about it. Knowing Cyril, it was some kind of insult, and once Cyril insulted you once, it's all kind of the same. Creativity was not one of Cyril's strong suits.
He followed after Cyril, avoiding the small pockets of snow easily. He snorted at Cyril's faux concern about his paw. "Good thing you're always messing around with those plants of yours then. You could just heal me right up with whatever leaf or root works on old paws."
They were meandering between trees near the fences when a loud wordless meow cried from the bushes. Dusty was slow to spin around, and was certainly too slow to avoid the spray of snow that flung itself in his face. Dusty cursed and wiped it off, already glaring and glowering at the young cat in front of them.
Luckily he already seemed sheepish, though his comment on them not being his mother and sister meant he was sheepish about the mistake, not the snow in his face. The thought didn't even pass through Dusty's head before he said it, and Dusty didn't regret it even after he said it. "No, but he has enough mom instincts he should count."
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Sigh
New Warrior
159 Posts
EST; he/him; mid-twenties
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Post by Sigh on Nov 15, 2022 0:49:33 GMT
cyril Ah yes, because there's nothing I love more than taking care of doddering old fools who don't know how to take care of themselves, Cyril thought, demonstrating a remarkable feat of self-delusion; the truth was closer to the opposite of that particular sentiment, but good luck getting Cyril to admit it. Aloud, he griped, "As if I'd waste any of my plants on the likes of you."He was distracted from their bickering by an energetic meow and the sudden scrabbling of paws on the icy ground and a shock of cold—the newcomer had sprayed them with a light layer of snow. What goes around comes around, I suppose. He thought back to his earlier prank on Dusty and, given current circumstances, almost regretted it. Even more shocking than the unexpected snowshower, however, was the stranger's explanation. His mother and sister? Cyril looked down at himself. Over at Dusty. Across at the young tom. How any of them could have been related to each other was a mystery to Cyril; coloring alone should have been enough to distinguish them. Dusty seemed to recover from the surprise more quickly, quickly enough to take another verbal swipe at Cyril. His squint deepened as he cast his eyes sideways towards his friend. "And what would you know about mom instincts, sitting out in the cold just to avoid a kit?" He turned towards the newcomer. He looked young, though Cyril had gathered as much from his entrance and general demeanor. Had Cyril himself ever been so youthful? It was hard to imagine, thought logically he had, at one point, been young. Hmph."As for you," he said, finally addressing the young tom, Sliding around on the ice is a bad way to find your family, but it's a good way to get hurt. Are they sliding around here somewhere, too?" |
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