Border WC me and mr wolf | elohim

[Plague]

𓆝 . ° ✦

It is Plague's first day out of camp alone since the day she moved in. The safety of her kits was a concern, of course - she couldn't trust strangers not to poison them with incorrect ideals. But, more than anything, WindClan hadn't trusted her immediately, and the last thing she needed was more prying eyes. It is not until her presence becomes more accepted, more passive, that she allows a queen to keep an eye on her children so she may go out for a walk. The rains have ceased, if only for a day, but dark clouds loom in the distance. It may be her only chance to get some alone time at last.

Though.. it's not the only reason why the queen is out today. There is an ulterior motive guiding her paws across the moor, to the border in which she came from. It's almost subconscious, the way she returns to the place she fully lost her home, if not for the determined yet nervous way her brain buzzes. At the border, where the scent marks are strongest, Plague stops, gazing across the empty expanse towards the distant treeline where her old colony resides, a few days' walk away. She stands stiffly, tail-tip flicking behind her, as her eyes shift across the horizon.. searching for something. Or someone.

..Until her vision reaches a shape, so close that she's surprised she did not see it sooner with how focused she was. The stranger nearly scares her out of her pelt, as she takes a startled half-jump backward and puffs out her tail. Plague stands in silence for a few moments, taking in the sight of the feline before her - a battle-scarred ginger tom, perhaps much older than her, with a single eye. Scary, it is, but.. it is alluring, the passive yet confident expression it holds as it examines her back. Decidedly more intrigued than scared, the molly settles her fur and takes a couple steps forward, sniffing the air.

"You're not WindClan,"

she observes, a question masked as a statement. When did she ever become so interested in any other than herself? What is it exactly about this cat that draws her into conversation? Is it the mystery of the unknown, or the scars upon it that tell a strange, eerie story?

"Who are you?"

✧ ° . ✶ . ° ✧

ooc Information

• ooc: — @Elohim hi this is so late sorry
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  PLAGUE — SHE/HER ･ 25 MOONS ･ QUEEN ; WINDCLAN ･ PENNED BY IXORA

  a complex molly; timid and meek on the surface, but what dwells beneath?

 

[Elohim]

Watching, waiting, those were the things that Elohim was best at. A lone molly wandering outside a colony of cats, foolish, certainly. They could feel the grin tugging at it's mouth without realizing, padding towards her on light feet. They weren't a large feline, they were actually quite slender, not imposing in the slightest beyond the numerous scars that littered their being and the singular eye that still had life in it. It was a few feet from her, far enough to not be imposing, but close enough it was surprised that she had not reacted to it yet.

Her eyes seemed to shift, focusing on it. She leapt away like a startled bird, tail puffed out. Oh dramatics, it smirks at the thought, before it's face shifts to neutrality once again. It eyes her in the same way she eyes it, there is a certain glimmer of intrigue to her eyes that makes it swell with a sense of pride. It was hoping for this outcome, but honestly they knew that the molly would not attack. That soft, well-groomed fur, it's a wonder she's alive out here. She asks a question that makes Elohim's torn ears twitch in curiosity, a name it has never heard --- very curious.

"Windclan?" It asks, voice measured and confident. "I'm afraid I am not familiar with this... Windclan." As she asks the question, her face is a mixture of emotions, hard to read. She seems curious, wanting to engage. Elohim tips its head towards her. "I call myself Elohim, the name the divine has blessed me with." Its one good eye watches her closely, trying to gauge her reaction. Its voice is sickeningly cool, collected beyond measure, especially considering they are trespassing on clan territory --- not that they knew or cared.

"Tell me, lady of Windclan. What brings you out here alone?" It meows, there is an underlying venom in its voice, like it is planning on baring its teeth at any moment. "I'm surprised your colony isn't keepin' a better eye on you. Such a nice pelt, delicate features." The calm in its voice as it analyzes her makes skin crawl, but still it is surprised she does not flee.

I USED TO PRAY 𓆩 𓆪 LIKE GOD WAS LISTENING

• "speech"
  @Plague
  
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• ELOHIM they/it, rogue, sixty-six moons.
  𓆩 𓆪 A short-haired ginger cat with a white belly and paws. Has one eye and torn ears.
  𓆩 𓆪 believes itself to be divine, holds little value in morals or ethics.
  𓆩 𓆪 peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  𓆩 𓆪 penned by asteiri ↛ dm on discord or post in #asteiris-astronomy for plots!