Patrolling Along at Sunhigh [Ginger/open?]

[Lightstar]

What a beautiful face was the one staring out of the small pool of water! In shape, it was like a heart, in color, like a harlequin, with the eyes a pair of purest emeralds gazing fondly up out of the pristine puddle. Of course, the face wasn’t really coming out of the water, for it was merely the reflection of the remarkably pretty cat staring down into it. The eyes still gleamed with pleasure, though, at the sight of their own beauty, and the beauty of the rest of the face which framed them so magnificently.

Mottledleaf was truly a remarkably beautiful cat. If she was a tad vain, well, she’d earned her right to be. She-cats stared at her with poorly concealed jealousy. Toms watched her with open admiration. As she looked down at the reason for all the emotions the other cats directed towards her, her medium-length tail flicked smugly. She smiled, admiring the way her mouth gracefully curved along her muzzle, then flashed her pearly teeth at her own mirrored image. Satisfied, she finally dragged her gaze from the pool of water and set off with her mottled tail held high.

In accordance with the orders of her superiors--though they were only superior in rank and not appearance--she was due to patrol the RiverClan border at sunhigh. She was near enough now that she could hear the rumble of the river pounding in her ear fur, so she relaxed her pace. The sun was nearly at its zenith, but she hadn’t yet spotted her patrol partner. Whether he was earlier than her or later was unimportant. The fact was, she would be right on time reaching the river. Actually, she had a little more time than she needed, and that particular thought slowed her pace to a halt. She seated herself gracefully on the dusty ground and began to preen.

The fact that her patrol partner was a he was indeed cause for excitement, and for a little extra grooming. Never mind that the he in question was in depression. Never mind that the he in question was not so attractive. Never mind that the he in question was a complete and total nutcase. A tom is a tom, unless he’s already taken, and as far as Mottledleaf could tell, no she-cat wanted to take that crazy Brokenflight. Again, though, as far as Mottledleaf could tell, Brokenflight just needed to get himself a social life and stop moping, and he’d be right as rain. To ensure things went as well as possible, the calico had to be pristinely pretty.

The sun had reached its height by the time Mottledleaf had finished smoothing the mottled fur along her spine. She glanced up, surprised at the speed at which time had flown. With a graceful flourish, the feline leapt to her feminine paws and flounced attractively towards the river, though her quickened pace suggested her hurry. No agitation marred her facial features; she wouldn’t allow for such a thing when there was a male to impress. The she-cat meandered out of the gorse to the edge of the river, looking remarkably at ease as she casually glanced around, looking for the tomcat with whom she was due to patrol.

[ooc: I left it open 'cause I wasn't sure what you wanted.]

[Ginger]

The leader had called for a patrol to the Riverclan boarder.. Brokenflight really disliked being forced into doing work. It matter not what he was thinking.. He had a job.


With a sigh Brokenflight forced himself up and padded over to Mottledleaf. He used to have a huge crush on her... However, she was just another face now... He waited for her to take the lead before heading out.


His eyes were glazed over, his fur looked more brown then the natural white creamy color. His mind kept flickering to flashbacks with his sister.

A pretty sunny day. All the trees had leaves and grew largely in size. A white tom with a younger face walked along his sister. He was making a big joke out of this one battle with Thunderclan. He seemed super proud of it.

The she-cat is really pretty and she laughed at every other joke. The two made there way into the forest.. Everything seemed happy.. caused by the fantasy of lies.

[/i][/size]

[Lightstar]

Upon spotting Brokenflight, Mottledleaf experienced a slight tremor of revulsion which rocked her paws. She had practically forgotten how absolutely dreadful this tom looked, with his dirtied fur and glazed-over eyes. Now, dirty fur isn't always a minus when it comes to toms. Oftentimes, as this flirtatious calico had discovered with excitement, the filthiest toms were the most fun, and their lack of hygiene just made them seem like the "I don't care" types. These were always fun, since they never turned clingy and tried to establish some sort of deep emotional relationship. The thought of some sappy commitment made Mottledleaf shudder harder than a dirty pelt would have. This particular tom's lack of grooming sent an "I don't care" message, too, but it said that he didn't care even to have a little fun, and that was downright disturbing.

Furthermore, the look in Brokenflight's eyes told the she-cat that he wasn't even bothering with an attempt to conceal the fact that he didn't give a rat's rear about her. Here Mottledleaf was, all specially groomed and walking with her most graceful steps, and the tom wasn't even watching her. Sure, he was looking, but his eyes seemed to go right through her whenever they happened to land on her body. She might as well be some boring clump of grass, for all Brokenflight seemed to care. This certainly irked the furry flirt, and annoyance briefly battled with the hard-earned nonchalance in her gaze. Her tail, still hidden by gorse, gave an irritated flick. Mottledleaf forced herself to suck in a deep gulp of breath and to plaster an attractive smile on her face. A tom was still a tom, even if all she had to work with was this dirty scrap of fur.

"Hello, Brokenflight," she meowed in her most sugary voice as she fully extracted herself from the gorse. She was trying to draw him out of himself, to force his leaf green eyes to focus on her slim, trim figure. Her deep jade eyes focused on the tom, trying to draw his gaze to her as she padded quietly to his side. "I'm sorry I'm a little late. Are you ready to go?" This small talk was highly unnecessary, as Mottledleaf was quite capable of seeing that the tom was quietly awaiting the moment when she would take the lead on this patrol. Of course, Mottledleaf enjoyed taking the lead, in patrols as well as other things, but the grim, ghostly silence of the tom was quite unnerving. Therefore, the question was posed. He had to answer, had to break the quiet. He was being so damned reticent it unnerved the chatty, energetic female!

Still, as mentioned before, Mottledleaf could tell that the tom intended for her to lead the patrol, and she had no objection to this. To signify that she, too, was ready, she padded past him even as she approached him, letting her short, silken pelt just barely whisper across his grimy semi-long fur. She forced herself not to shiver with dislike as she imagined she could feel his accumulation of dirt clinging to every multicolored hair on her flank. This action was necessary, though, to stimulate the tom; of this Mottledleaf was certain. If her question didn't work to rouse the tom, then certainly this contact would. To seal the deal, so to speak, she allowed the tip of her tail to brush Brokenflight's shoulder as she wound past the pointed tom. Her contact had the faintest feel of attempted allure, but was more intended as an attention-grabber, as any cat would be able to tell. There was a distinct difference between flirtation and attempt to get someone's attention, but for Mottledleaf, the two often blended, if only slightly. She couldn't help herself.