I'm /W.A.L.K.I.N.G./ in the {{a.i.r.}}

[[[ShAdYCaUStI]]]

ooc;; You made me laugh out loud and then read your entire post over the phone to a non-roleplaying friend who totally didn't get it. --superior sniff--

bic::
Witheredhollow turned back to her swiftly-cooling prey with an irritable flick of her tail.

"Of course! I love hunting. Anything to help the clan." This cat was going to find himself lying in a bloody mass of fluff and entrails if he didn't get out of here quickly. She sensed his movement behind her, but didn't deign to turn her head. His movement brought him just into her line of vision - he was ... prancing? Was that the word? Trying to, at any rate. Or perhaps he had something in his paws and couldn't remember how to lick it out? His tail was puffed out like a rotting corpse, and in a moment the idiot was a fraction of a tail-length too close. Breakfast forgotten, Witheredhollow leapt. One lithe, graceful spring toward Frostfoot - icy black pelt gleamed in the morning sunlight - claws extended, razor-sharp - cruel eyes narrowed... Witheredhollow's attacks never missed...

ooc: Mm we should have something happen with our other charries =) ...I decided to make something happen here, too. Witheredhollow and I got impatient. Hope you don't mind sticking Frostfoot in a nice little rage-tunnel here!

[Smokeleaf]

Frostfoot screamed like a girl and dove into a neaby bush. "DON'T HURT ME!!!!!!!" he cried, unintentionally using way too many exclaimation marks. Unfortunately, he did not make it to that bush, as much as have liked to, and found himself in a fight with a very angry she-cat.
Oh, dear.

[[[ShAdYCaUStI]]]

And then Witheredhollow killed him. But not, cause that would be godmoding. ...should I really answer this, love?