{Needing} a Friend

[{Otter}]

Vixenfang

((Brackenheart? Or any other ThunderClan warrior, that's good too ^.^))


Times had changed. Things she had once thought were so clear and obvious had become twisted and abstract. Loyalty to ThunderClan grew more and more difficult to maintain, not only because of the decision to not fight for the moorlands, but also because of the mounting annoyance she was gaining for those cats who were large...those cats who were big and muscular and who thought that was all that mattered. Timberpelt, especially. Amber eyes narrowed angrily at the thought of the warrior, and she lashed her long ginger tail in annoyance. Enough of that, Vixenfang, she thought irritably. No point in thinking about all this. She needed a friend. She needed Brackenheart.

The brown tabby was big and tall and muscular, a perfectly opposing opponent in battle, but he had never treated her the way some others did. Brackenheart did not look down on her because of her scrawny, seemingly insignificant size. He didn't seem to think she was not worthy of the position of deputy. He was better than that, and she couldn't have appreciated any cat more than he.

But where was he? Soft ginger fur shifted in the cold leafbare breeze as she sniffed the air. Ah, she could make out a faint Brackenheart-ish scent, no doubt about that. And, not to her surprise, it seemed to lead straight to the warrior's den. With a smirk of amusement Vixenfang trotted forward and poked her head into the shadows within the bush, amber eyes seeking her friend. "Brackenheart?" she mewed almost cheerfully. "You up for a patrol?"

[l y r i c !]

Brackenheart !
I'm not sleeping; just day dreaming!

Brackenheart lay stretched out on his side, gazing off into the distant corner of the den with his eyes clouded in thought. His brown tabby fur was ruffled along his back where he had recently rolled over, and scraps of moss still clung to his fur. He had been too busy thinking about his dream than to care about cleaning of his pelt. It had been a good dream; he had caught so many mice and voles, it could have fed thunderclan for a moon. Of course, the prey could never be so plentiful in real life. He was just about to catch a squirrel when he had woken up for seemingly no apparent reason. With a grunt of annoyance, he clung to the last effects of his dream as he hoisted himself around to continue his dream in a wakeful hallucination. It wasn't as clear or enjoyable when he was awake.

His jaws opened in a small yawn as he sat up in his nest, shaking the last scraps of the day dream out of his mind. He was just stretching around to lap at his paw when a familiar voice came in from the entrance of the den. Twisting his head around, he wasn't surprised to see Vixenfang sitting at the entrance. With a soft smile, he got his paws, finishing his un-started grooming with a quick shake as he strode to the entrance where the deputy sat. He liked Vixenfang. She was kind and understanding, but loyal and fierce when it came to protecting her clan from any enemies. She was small, which made her quick and clever with her fighting skill, and had a powerful bite that would send even the strongest of enemies squealing for the borders. He envied her for those skills for a cat of his size and brawn could never possess.

Sure, size can give you an advance, and so could strength, but it was impossible to beat a cat whom you weren't fast enough to land a single blow on. Blinking into full focus, he yawned again, stretching out his body to get rid of the kinks of strain that sleep cast down upon you. He noticed immediately that the sun was already shining brightly through the entrance of the den. Oops. I didn't think I slept in that long, he thought with an innocent gleam dancing in his eyes. Fortunately, it would probably be cooler in the forest, and the deputy had already offered him to go on a patrol with her. Maybe they could hunt something on the way back. He wished his dream would come true and they would catch more prey than they could carry. Hah, yeah like that's going to happen, mouse-brain. Get your head out of the clouds, he scolded himself.

"Oh, hey there Vixenfang!" He sang cheerily. He could already tell from the weather and the beginning of the day, that it was going to be a great day from the start. "What are you up to? And, a patrol? That sounds great! Let's go scare off some kittypets!" He purred, his mew light with amusement. Of course, he was just joking about scaring off some kittypets unless there were some that had crossed the border. And then he was just in a good mood overall, as usual.

[{Otter}]

Upon spotting her friend just beginning to rise, Vixenfang couldn't suppress a purr of pleasure--she loved Brackenheart. Not in the lovey-dovey, I-want-to-be-your-mate kind of way, but in the I'll-always-have-your-back and I'll-tell-you-anything kind of way. They were pals...comrades in battle and buddies in camp. That idea, which had been pricking at her mind for days now, hit a wall when it came to Brackenheart. She couldn't imagine carrying out the atrocious idea. Not if it would hurt Brackenheart. Things would never be the same between them.

Her dark tabby friend began to rise, moss clinging to his pelt, and Vixenfang rose eagerly to her paws as he approached, chuckling inwardly at the few pieces of moss that still clung to his forehead and chest.

"What are you up to? And, a patrol? That sounds great! Let's go scare off some kittypets!"

[/b]

Such friendliness from such a powerful warrior was a breath of fresh air after the poison that had spewed forth from the mouth of Timberpelt. Vixenfang's mind darkened as she thought of him, and she wondered if her dislike of him would outweigh her love for her friend. She was dying to show Timberpelt, to show all cats like him, what cats like she could do. Small cats, cats that didn't fight with brute strength, but with speed. Not that brute strength wasn't desirable--Vixenfang had always envied cats like Brackenheart, cats who could frighten off a warrior just by their looks, who appeared strong and could back it up. Who didn't have to try and dance around their enemies, but rather had skill and strength enough.

Enough! For StarClan's sake, Vixenfang, can't you just hang out with Brackenheart anymore without getting all irritated? What's happening to you? she demanded of herself when she found her tail lashing angrily. She didn't want to ruin any time with Brackenheart, and she hoped to StarClan he hadn't noticed her expression. Her amber eyes refocused on her friend, and her spirits lifted immediately.

"Yeah," she mewed cheerfully, pushing her problems to the far corners of her mind. "Yeah, let's go scare off some kittypets. Want to lead?" She didn't like letting other warriors lead patrols if she was part of them, mostly because she had a reputation to uphold and had a need to prove herself. However, this was Brackenheart, and she figured he liked to lead patrols. Who wouldn't? So she waited for his move. Besides, if she ever left, he might very well be chosen...No! Stop that now, Vixenfang! she told herself roughly, shaking her head to rid herself of those thoughts. Turning her sights on Brackenheart once more, she mewed, "What're you waiting for? Let's go!" And she trotted off toward the entrance of the camp.
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[l y r i c !]

He thought he saw something in Vixenfang's eyes, a flash of distress, and then a lash of her tail, but because she said nothing of her feelings, he didn't ask. It wasn't his job to pry into someone else's business, but if he saw it was really beginning to affect her he would ask. Smiling to himself, pretending he hadn't seen a thing, he just yawned widely, and out of boredom. At least the weather would be nice for the patrol today. Hopefully it will stay that way, he thought, flicking his long tail back and forth calmly. Haha, what's going on around here? He thought, cocking his head as he saw all the warriors still asleep in their dens. It was rather late in the morning, so some cats should at least be starting to moves their lazy paws. Look at all these hedgehogs, he smiled and turned to look at Vixenfang.

Huh, lead? Great! He thought, kneading the ground with excitement. He hadn't led a patrol in awhile, mostly because he was too nice to the other cats and allowed them to have the fun to lead the patrols. He almost wanted to ask her to lead, but he knew her offer was genuine and he wasn't going to miss out. While he was thinking, she had already turned and began to head towards the gorse tunnel. "Okay, I'm coming!" He sprang forward, paws skimming across the grass, and he had to stifle at laugh at the thought of slipping and falling right in the centre of camp. Yeah, wouldn't that just be embarrassing? Especially in front of Vixenfang. I'd never heard the end of it! Quickly straightening up, he bounded forward.

"We might as well scare off some fish-faces too," he purred, twitching his whiskers. "But then we'd get our paws off, I suppose, and we'd smell that gross stench of fish for the rest of the day," he murmured, thinking aloud. As he padded through the gorse tunnel, something flickering and golden caught his eyes. A butterfly had just lifted off into the flight... But, he mused, it's not too high for... Bunching his hind legs, he sprang off the ground and in a quick bound he swatted at the butterfly with one paw, but missed! Mouse-dung! He thought, flopping down on one side, flattening the grass beneath him.

"Aww," he complained, watching the butterfly as it flew out of sight. "I almost had it too! Oh well, I'll get it next time!" Bounding to his paws, he shook the grass from his pelt and began to wander mindlessly on, towards the twolegplace. He had converted back to his original idea of chasing away kittypets, instead of RiverClan cats. As he walked, he continued to keep an eye out for more butterflies. He wasn't going to miss the next one! "I used to chase butterflies as a kit and apprentice too," he meowed, half yawning. "It's still as fun as ever!" He skipped on, not aware if he was boring Vixenfang with his speech about flying insects yet or not, though he really half cared because he was being as scatter-brained as ever.

ooc:
He's so weird. o.e

[{Otter}]

((He and Ottersplash are soul-mates hahaha))

Ah, he was happy about leading the patrol. The spark in his eyes said everything, and Vixenfang's tail flicked in amusement as he passed her. She figured he didn't get to lead patrols very often. Too selfless.

As they moved off, she was reminded of why she loved Brackenheart so much. When needed, he could be as serious and focused as the best of warriors. But when it wasn't needed? She purred in amusement as his mind scattered off into a dozen different directions. Chase kittypets. No, chase RiverClanners. No wait, that means getting one's paws wet! She enjoyed the randomness of his mind, and watched in amusement as he finally seemed to come to a direction....and then pounced after a butterfly. What was a butterfly doing out this late in the year, anyway?

I'm thinking...he's not the one who will replace me, she thought in amusement as he started chattering on about chasing butterflies when he was younger. But if not him, who? Timberpelt? Great StarClan, she hoped not him.

"So, who we chasing away, Brackenheart? Kittypets or RiverClanners or ShadowClanners?" she mewed as his mind finally seemed to return to the present.