{raise your glass}open

[Bast]

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[atrb=background,http://i54.tinypic.com/16bjax5.jpg ] A lone young buck grazed quietly in the woodland, every so often taking a step forward to find fresher grass. The high sun shed droplets of light through the canopy of leaves overhead, dappling the deer's brown hide and the foliage around it. All seemed peaceful, serene and calm. The deer felt protected and safe, hidden in the dense foliage. Foolish animal, too stupid to realize that its demise was slinking through the undergrowth on silent paws. It turned its head the other way in time to miss a flash of spotted fur as a hungry beast slithered through the ferns. It was oblivious, blissfully so, to the fierce eyes burning through the fronds of the plants, zeroed in on the stupid animal with precision that led to a kill never being missed by this fierce huntress. Bast was never one to miss a meal, letting prey get away simply was not her style. WITH a viper's speed, the pale-furred cheetah sprang from the undergrowth with a sharp snarl. The young buck gave a bleat of dismay and wheeled away from its attacker, lunging toward the foliage that it hoped would keep its pursuer at bay. The animal was foolish. Bast could not be stopped by something so trivial as a bit of greenery. THE chase began as Bast with a cheetah's inborn speed paced her prey. The deer ran in a zig-zag pattern, leaping and bounding in a wild attempt to escape the inevitable. Bast, eyes lit with the thrill of a good hunt, was barely a step behind and she as patient, pacing herself. Most cheetahs would pour on all their speed at the beginning of a hunt and then be exhausted by the end of it, before they could even catch their quary. Not Bast. She was far too intelligent for such manuvers. When the buck veered wildly to the left in an attempt to throw off the cheetah, Bast struck. LONG hooked claws latched on to the deer's unprotected side and fangs cut through thick hide with ease. Blood filled Bast's mouth making the light in her eyes flare as hunger rumbled in her belly, insistant on a quick kill. The game was over, it was time to feast. Her weight pushing the unbalanced deer to the ground, Bast tore through its troat and crushed its windpipe, the herbivore dying a quick, if bloody, death. Then again, blood had never particularly bothered Bast. Standing over her kill, the cheetah gave a purr of satisfaction. She preferred plains hunting but forest hunting had its moments of entertainment, the deer here being more cunning in their attempts to escape. FOOLISH beasts. THE feast was a glorious one, filling Bast's growling belly until she all but purred with content. Swiping her tongue around her bloody lips, the cheetah reclined and regarded the remains of her kill. Some left for another hungry loner. Curling her tail around her paws, Bast lazy cleaned her paws, chest and tail before rising and striding toward a break in the trees. When she came out of the undergrowth, sharp orbs swept the clearing. It was large with three massive trees around it and a flood of noontime sunlight warming it. To one side of the clearing, Bast spotted a large rock jutting from the ground. Purring in content, she ambled toward it and with easy bounds leaped up to the highest point. SETTLING herself into a contented, lazy sprawl, the cheetah laid her head on her forelegs and let her tail hang down from the rock. The sun soaked into her wheaten fur, the dark spots drawing in more sunlight and further warming her from the inside out. Bast wasn't one to enjoy material comforts often but she simply could not deny a high perch and lots of warm sunshine when it was presented so nicely after a glorious meal. Tagged;; Open Word Count;; 646 Background Song;; "Lonely" by Akon Notes;; open to anyone

[snowtuft]

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[atrb=background,http://i775.photobucket.com/albums/yy35/BaileeDanielle3/ashstormtable2.png] Ashstorm moved so much more easily as she sprinted across the land. It felt good to be able to run again. It felt good to be out of camp again. She had recently birthed kits and needed to take a break from the heated nursery. Now, as she sped across the landscape to StarClan knows where, she thought about her kits. She had three, one with a deformed paw. She blamed that mouse brain warrior that fought with her. She snorted. Maybe Sandkit could be a medicine cat. After all, she was liking the medicine den. She spent a lot of her day in there. Perhaps Swiftstep would take her in? Lost in thought, Ashstorm tumbled over something and flipped onto her back. She yowled with surprise as she landed, springing to her paws and whipping around. There was another female cheetah lounging on a rock. Ashstorm, however, didn't let her guard down and looked squarely at the female. I am sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going. Ashstorm apologized. I'm Ashstorm of CheetahClan. Who are you? She asked curiously. OOC: Not my best post.

[Bast]

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[atrb=background,http://i54.tinypic.com/16bjax5.jpg ] THE sound of someone babbling brought Bast out of her doze. Opening a single green eye, the cheetah loner regarded the other femme across the clearing. It seemed the cheetah had tripped over the carcass of Bast's kill. The thought of it nearly made Bast snort aloud but she held it in. Still with one eye closed, Bast stretched in a leisurely, unhurried way, not the least bit disturbed by the appearance of another cat. Ashstorm, the cat introduced herself as. Of CheetahClan. Puh. Fools. At the name, a little snide smile crawled its way onto Bast's face as she opened her other eye. Shifting slightly so she could rest her head on her paws more comfortably, she regarded the clancat with cool amusement in grass-green eyes. "ASHSTORM of CheetahClan," Bast repeated with an amused purr. "Oh that is too precious, saying your name like it makes a difference to me who you are or where you're from." Lashing her tail, the lone cheetah regarded the clan cat, surveying her scent. She stank of many others but also of...milk. The smell nearly made Bast hiss in distaste. A nursery queen. How quaint, out for an afternoon stroll. "Skit scat kitty cat, go on back to your little brats and leave me be," Bast meowed serenly, her snide smile never wavering and her green eyes sharp and dangerous. IT had been such a fine afternoon before this little interruption. Clancats were such annoying fools, stupider than the deer Bast had just run down. They chased their tails blaming one another for silly things and crying out to the dead when they needed someone to save their sorry hides. They couldn't function if singled out, buckling under their loneliness and weakness. Each clan bosted superior strength only to prove how weak they really were when the real world broke their illusions that "StarClan" would save and support them. Well, being the last survivor of a litter Bast could say with quite a bit of certainty, the dead stayed dead. They didn't rise up to send signs or save anyone. It was so amusing though, to tease them about their feeble beliefs and then watch them get tied up in righteous anger. THIS scrap of clancat filth was a queen though, so Bast would have to go easy on her. It was against Bast's personal morals to slay a mother nursing, expecting or raising kits. The kits may not have been her concern but she wasn't heartless. She'd been robbed of a mother and left to raise herself. It made for a very poor next generation. After all, Bast knew she wasn't a saint. Plus, she had no vandetta against the clan cats per say. She simply thought them annoying, like a mosquito or fly. They deserved to be swatted but otherwise were below her notice. Bast had other worries. Let the kits have their mother with her foolish ideals and silly ancestors. Bast was more or less clinging to the remains of her contentness. Her belly was still full, the sun was still warm and she had a nice high perch. If the clan she-cat insisted on further intruding on Bast's peace, she may draw some blood but it wouldn't be fatal. After all, all Bast wanted was to be left alone to enjoy the peace and quiet. The last thing she wanted to listen to was the preachings of some silly nursery queen. THAT was what most clancats did as soon as they figured out she held no alliances. They tried to tell her all the ways she was wrong and that she should vlaue her ancestors. Well, Bast knew enough about her ancestors to know that they had been stupid clancats, not that she'd ever claim them as family. The other half of her blood was a hodge podge of loners and rogues which suited her just fine. Clancats liked to think they were superior, with fancy names and long geneologies and their special ancestors, really it was foolish. THEY were still only cats. AND all cats bleed the same. Tagged;; Ashstorm Word Count;; 680 Background Song;; "Dynomite" by Taio Cruz Notes;; I smell a cat fight! :P