Get your cup of poison coffee!

@Moosebellow, nicolo for reference!

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the tree had snapped in half — from old age, storm, or a combination of both, they could not tell. it was, however a recent break; though moir hadn't heard it in the night. the sap that had burst forth from the broken tree trunk still glistened with damp. there were new stains running down the bark and onto the thawing ground.

it was gruesome — the exposed red insides of the tree glistening as if the tree had been disembowled by some great creature; no identifiable organs but simply viscera — but clearly attractive to the fauna that made their home here. a few birds and small mammals had scattered at moir's approach, having taken bites of the sweet red nectar.

and it was sweet. it was the fresh, sweet smell that brought them to the broken tree. overpowering even @Nicolo's berry scent. moir leapt on the broken tree trunk, their claws gripping into the red-tinged bark.

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 He had no territory to patrol but still he did so, walking around the "borders" of the red-sap woodland like he owned it. Perhaps it was a force of habit that kept him going in such a manner, perhaps it was boredom. He figured it was some combination thereof. In any case, he was at the edge of the woodland overlooking a small stream. It was there that he lowered his head, salmon tongue flicking in and out of his mouth as he tasted the clear streamwater. His eyes had closed but briefly they would flicker open to watch dark shapes flit about beneath the water. 

 His stomach rumbled and that was all the prompting he needed to flash a paw out to hook a fish. It flopped on land and he was quick to pounce on it and kill it with sharp fangs. He'd never been the best hunter but without the support of a clan, he had to develop his skills more. He couldn't rely constantly on his wolf friends to hunt for him...

 Speaking of, he should probably find something for his territory-mate. 

 After finishing off his breakfast, he turned his attention back to the water. It was a while before he saw another dark shape that he was able to hook. It was a brown trout, a decent sized one that he was able to man-handle onto the shore and kill. That should at least be a decent snack for the dark wolf. 

 With that done, he hauled the fish up and began the tiresome journey back to Moir. 

 He could smell something sweet around the fish, for a moment he thought it might be Nicolo but even this smell overpowered that pooch. Sure he would find reward at the end of the smell, he followed it and what would you know. There was Moir on top of one of the damned trees that had fallen over. He approached near --but not touching-- the tree and dropped the fish. He worked his tired jaws for a moment before calling up to the wolf, "Oi! The fuck are you doin' up there? You're gonna get that damned stuff all over your fur." He knew he hated the taste of the stuff. Maybe wolves were different.

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it took all moir's concentration and strength to stay balanced on the, admittedly slippery, tree trunk. every once and a while they would wobble, but they took it in stride. they even chuckled every once and a while; it felt like a personal test.

a familiar raucous voice distracted them. the wobble that ensued was a bit fiercer than the previous ones, but they managed to stay atop the sticky trunk all the while. “ah. that's a good catch!” they exclaimed, looking down at the fish laying at the cat's feet. “i suppose so? it wouldn't be the first time.” they peered into the break, where the trunk separated from the stump. most of the accessible sap seemed to be here, if the bite-sized chunks were any indication. “how've you been faring? i apologize that progress has been slow, but with winter here i don't think it safe to venture far from where we're familiar.” they planted their hindquarters on the trunk, no doubt getting sap onto their rump. they didn't seem to care.

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 "Thanks!" Moosebellow's chest practically puffed out with the praise. He was glad that his hard work was paying off. "I hope you like fish. 'Cause that's yours." Did wolves eat fish? Or did they like more substantial things? He supposed he was going to find out. If push came to shove he supposed he could eat it later. Leaf-bare had chilled the land and the fish would keep a bit longer than in the warmer seasons. 

 "Eck! You don't mind that fucking stuff on your fur? It takes god-damned ages to get out and it takes like mouse-dung to boot!" He pulled a disgusted face as he looked at the balancing canine. Was he just doing that for fun? What if he fell? He'd be covered in the nasty red goo. Yuck!

 In fact, just watching that display made his fur itch. Twitch. Twitch. Yep. He needed to groom himself. He turned and began to run his tongue over his flanks while he listened to the black wolf speak. "You're always fuckin' apologizin'. Don't apologize, own that shit." If he expected Moosebellow to be upset by the slow progress, he was sadly mistaken. "These things take time. We'll get our brothel up and running. In the meantime, we can focus on not-dying." All this said in between licks and with a bit of a teasing tone. He was always there for moral support... vulgar moral support but still support all the same. "I've been pretty good." He paused as he transitioned from one flank to the other. "Met this weird lion and nice white wolf... after I nearly got eaten further north." The brown tom jerked his head in that general direction where he'd first met Olive and the angry lady wolf. "I gotta tell ya, don't set your paw there or they might even try to eat you." Some real touchy bastards, it was likely their pack territory or something. He wasn't too nuanced in wolf borders since they smelled up the entire place in his eyes

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“thank you,” their voice was soft, warm. moir didn't care much for fish, but the effort touched them. the hind chuckled. “i find it tastes rather sweet, so it's a nice treat to have. but water helps with getting it all off.” ah, that was it, yes? cats didn't like water. or so they heard.

moosebellow's observation took them off guard: did they apologize a lot? they hadn't ever noticed before. it was just politeness for the most part, not a sincere attempt at gaining forgiveness. still, it made them think. the gears started rolling...

moir's brow furrowed. “lion? what were they like?” the question had barely exited their lips when their placid expression turned, eyes wide. “nearly? by what? are you alright?”

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 And then that disgusted face changed to even more disgusted as he licked his tongue out of his mouth. "Sweet". The most accursed of flavors. And then the water too? "None of what you said sounds pleasant." He said, confirming those rumors of cats disliking water. If he could avoid it, he would stay out of the stuff. 

 Moosebellow watched intently the wolf. Waiting for them to apologize for apologizing too much. That would have just been classic. Grade A amusement really but the wolf refrained from doing so. Instead, they moved on to the "lion". "Honestly?" He said, squinting an eye as he thought back to the strange cat. "Well, he was big. Huge, really." But anything was huge to him. "But he acted fuckin' weird. Slurrin' his words and shit. Like he'd had too much catnip or something... and he had a weird-ass name. Not at all what I thought a LionClan warrior would be like." Although it was still like a legend coming to life. He had the hugest fangs, the longest tail, and claws that could rip open a tree (he thought that anyway). Kittypet or not, he knew that the beast would be quite formidable. Hm... maybe his slurring speech was hiding some great wisdom. Perhaps he should seek him out again. 

 "And I'm fine, it was just some wolf pack that lives northish of here. The pack leader was interrogating a white wolf and I got caught in the middle of it." He waved a paw dismissively, as if it were no big deal. "I'm sure I can get through fine if I'm sneaky enough but you'd probably attract more attention. Just a fair warning so your tail isn't ripped the fuck off. I like you and I'd like for your tail to remain where it is, you know?" He studied his claws as if it were no big deal.

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moir laughed, a soft tittering sound. “not to you at least, i suppose. a dip or two is always nice, especially when you need it most.”

they couldn't admit to knowing what a few keywords moosebellow had just uttered meant. catnip? lionclan? more cat stuff, they figured. “if you were up north, i'd venture they were a mountain lion.” they said after moosebellow assured them that he wasn't seriously hurt or flustered. “not sure about the slurring, though you're probably right.” they figured that catnip was a drug, perhaps then only for cats. it might be something they would have to seek out for their brothel...

“thank you for your concern,” moir finally hopped down from the tree trunk. they could already feel a bit of sap stick to their hindquarters, though it wasn't that uncomfortable. they sidled over to moosebellow before laying down, their head at his level. “perhaps we can go together this time?”

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 A dip or two was always nice? Blegh! His disgusted cat face remained for a bit longer until he was sure he got the point across. "A mountain lion?" The housecat said quizzically. He'd heard of normal lions, and leopards, and wolves, but never a mountain lion. "What the fuck's a mountain lion." And then, the image of Benry popped back up in his mind. No mane and his pelt didn't seem as golden as the sun. It had been more of a dull brown... "Is that why he didn't have a mane?" He reached a paw up to brush at his chin contemplatively. 

 The wolf jumped down from his tree and the tomcat was sure to look the wolf's pelt over intently to make sure they weren't bringing any of that nasty-ass sap over to get on his fur. Fortunately, from his angle, they seemed clean. He walked right over, sitting in fron of the wolf's nose and looking down into their purple eyes. "Yeah? It'd be fuckin' nice to have a bit of adventure. We goin' on a pilgrimage to spread the word of debauchery to the tight-asses up north?" That sounded fun as shit if he was being honest. This time he'd even have a wolf bodyguard of sorts.

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moir grinned at moosebellow's disgust. better not assign him to massaging near a pool, then. they figured that the rough tongue was more than enough to keep him clean, which was a strange concept to moir. but perhaps, that was what the strangely bristled muscle was for.

“a large cat that lives in the mountains,” they explain. they didn't have enough taxonomical insight to discern between the genera, but knew that a mountain lion and a true lion were different, if the stories were true. “mm, i think they're just called that because of their size.” they shrugged. up close moir could see the wild galaxy in moosebellow's eyes. he really was an intimidating figure down at this level. perhaps if he was the size of a mountain lion he'd be a true menace to wolves all over — though, they didn't think he was really limited by his size.

the gears in moir's mind began spinning. “if they really are that repressed i suppose we'd be a welcome gift to some. when would you be ready?” they'd have to discuss it with their cousin, but nicolo was always the more extroverted one; he'd enjoy meeting others, especially if it was for business.

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 A large cat that lives in the mountains... well, when he said it like that it sounded pretty fucking self explanatory. Duh, Moosebellow. "Pfft, if that's just a mountain lion then I'm not sure if I ever want to meet a true LionClan warrior. They must be even bigger than the tales describe!" They were supposed to be the biggest and most fearsome cats, after all. They had to be larger than this so-called "mountain lion". 

 His eyes glittered excitedly as they were talking of their trip. "Whenever the fuck you are. You want to go now? Then let's fuckin' go now!" He'd make sure to keep his nose and eyes open for any danger and he was certain that Moir would do the same for him. Although if it came down to it, Moosebellow felt he was the safer of the pair since he could escape up into trees. Moir on the other hand would have to rely on their own paws to escape... Yeah, he'd have to make sure to keep a good eye out for both of them.

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Moir at Moosebellow's feral ass:

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moir just had to wonder then what a lion — a true lion — would think of a cat moosebellow's size. “perhaps they'll adopt you, and induct you into lionclan.” they said half joking, but they didn't dismiss it from the realm of possibilities. stranger things had occurred.

moir's ears flattened back. the cat's voice was loud when your face was a whisker's breadth away. “w-well, I'd have to speak with my cousin first...” they said sheepishly. nicolo'd no doubt want to join, but even so they couldn't just abandon him.

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 "Pfft! Yeah, right, smartass!" He said with a laugh and a playful swipe at one of Moir's ears. "They'd probably just fuckin' eat me." He paused, narrowed one eye --as if he were thinking hard about something-- and then shook his head. "Wait, nah. They'd eat you and then use me to pick their teeth." And then he bellowed with laughter, really living up to that name of his. 

 "Then let's ask'im!" The idea had gotten inside of his head, morphing its way into a thought that was like a tick. Relentless and not wanting to go anywhere.  

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Since @Nicolo is on hiatus, fade to black?

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“i meant it,” they giggle. the swipe only stings, and they've felt far worse. for his size, he was as fierce as a bull moose, though with a temper more akin to a badger or wolverine. “no!” they protested, only to burst into another peal of laughter as moosebellow followed up with another prediction.

“alright,”they say softly, half out of breath. they rise up to their full height and stretch out their long limbs. “let's go see where he ran off to.”

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 Haha! He really liked this fucking wolf! The other giggled with laughter and he matched it, amused at the fun they were having. Soon enough though, they were ready to find their other companion. "Right behind ya!" He said, trailing off after his friend as they went to look for Nicolo.

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-mysterious fading noises-

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