Private The Farm Backwritten You keep me searchin' for a heart of gold || Harefoot

[Merrystalk]

—————————————— Dreaming along in a pace you'll understand. ✦

The tortoiseshell bristled, face scrunching a little as the cold really began to sink its teeth into his pelt. He'd been out hunting plenty today, likely too long, paws yearning to curl up for a break after having made his rounds catching mouse after mouse. Content the barn was mostly cleared, and having dispersed out his catches to the usual cats, Merry had a couple of mice spare now to enjoy for himself before curling up for a well-deserved nap. His paws were painfully numb from the snow he'd padded through,h and the mice weren't as plump as they could have been, but they'd be enough. Though making his way up the attic was a task in itself, he opted to hop up some stuff stacked at the wall rather than brave the ladder.

With a triumphant huff, four paws on the hayloft floor, Merry padded along, smiling with his mouthful, walking past other cats. Though he hesitated for a moment towards his nest, eyes falling on that of a friend, sat alone, seemingly staring off to nothing: Harefoot. The earth outside was cold, solid even, and the other was one to dig and tunnel for his meals when the weather was still fair. But now, with leafbare freezing the land solid, Merry wondered how much the other had been eating. While he mostly caught food for the younger cats, their parents and the older folk, Merry didn't think twice before padding up to Harefoot and placing the mice down with a smile.

"Caught some extra while I was out an' about. Thought ya' might like somethin' fresh to eat." He purred with a smile before backpeddling for a moment. "I uh- Noticed ya' were pretty deep in thought there, hope I ain't interruptin' nothin'." He added, a little sheepishly, still with a warm smile towards the other. Though again, his fur bristled with the wind whistling through the slats of the barn walls, bitter and cruel. "That damned wind's awful, I gotta say. Best pad up our nests, or else we're gonna freeze." He spoke out loud, eyeing up the nearby hay bales, ripe for the harvest.

— And it's harder than you think,

Telling dreams from one another. —

• @harefoot :p
• 
  Merry
  ✦—Barncat | 25 Moons
  ✦—He/Him
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A skinny, tortoiseshell cat with bright green eyes and pelt speckled with hay.
  #9D6E46

 

[harefoot]

Harefoot is staring at nothing in particular, listening to the sound of the wind through the trees and the many holes in the barn, when Merry comes up to him. He looks at the other inquisitively, following the movement of his head as he places down a couple of mice in front of him. Merry explains why, then apologizes for interrupting– which he hadn't been. Well, not really, anyway.

"That damned wind's awful, I gotta say. Best pad up our nests, or else we're gonna freeze."

Ah. Harefoot nods, if a bit vaguely. "I was listening to that very wind," he says, in response to Merry's previous statement. "Trouble, I should think… There's something strange in the wind these days… Either too quiet or too loud…" he looks up again, finding the little hole in the roof he'd been looking out of. Then he looks back at Merry, who's kind warm face was turned towards the nearby hay bales. "Thank you… for the mice," Harefoot says. "Can't dig holes now…" his voice drifts off again as he thinks of the holes and the tunnels he'd dug in green leaf, if they might've survived leaf bare. Then, blinking, he says, "let us share the mice. I have a… small appetite."

This was true, although it was more of a force of habit than an innate thing. When he was still a kittypet, he was on a strict diet because of what he was– a show cat. He'd never been entirely sure how to explain the concept to the other cats in the barn. When he tries to tell them about it, the being paraded around, being judged and held by two legs… it sounded nonsensical, even for Harefoot. He'd never tried to explain it to Merry, but he spares him, this time.

 

[Merrystalk]

—————————————— Dreaming along in a pace you'll understand. ✦

For a moment, Merry blinked; he assumed Harefoot listening to the wind was a sentiment of peace. Content to hear the whistling through the barn itself from every gust and bristle weaving through the foundations of their home. His lips parted to hum in agreement in kind before the other continued on, enough to stun the mouser to silence for just a moment. He'd heard Harefoot's curious thoughts before, but never had he, for just a short while, tried to ponder what the other meant. He wasn't exactly the brightest cat; he knew it as much, good for hunting and running, but his smarts were few and far between from his own perspective, so the tortie looked at his friend with a quizzical look.

"Whatcha mean summit strange in th' wind? I mean th' airs felt a tad funny with the storms, but wind ain't been nothin' outta the pecuilar." He hummed as he padded to the hay nearby, still peaking to the other but dislodging a good chunk of hay to offer for the other. "I fhinmk-" Merry tried to continue with the hay, realising his mistake quickly before placing the hay near the other's nest - spluttering about the dried straw for a moment. "Sorry- I think at least, though. Ain't my forte I suppose." He shrugged, plopping himself down near Harefoot as the other tom offered to share the food.

"I noticed you never eat a fair too much." He started, pawing only one of the mice towards him for a moment, purposefully. "But the cold fronts still strong, 'nd ya' ain't gonna have much energy come the thaw to tunnel if you ain't eatin' your proper fill." It wasn't like Merry was shaming Harefoot; far from it, it'd be like if he only ate a mouse a day. It was hard to admit that was a habit he was in moons back, prioritising other cats far too much and ending up scrawny and exhausted. Goldy had his pelt for that one, but it was worry from his brother. A fed cat is a healthy cat, and like hell, Merry was gonna leave a cat hungry.

It was hard to read Harefoot, he was a wondering type, head in the clouds- or the wind this time. But perhaps, in time, it was something he could grow to understand better, the machinations of a mind that seemed to speak in riddles. Merry found that wonderfully curious. Perhaps spending more time with the other might clue him into how Harefoot thought. With that, Merry bowed his head and began to enjoy the prey he'd captured, a small joy in sharing food with others.

— And it's harder than you think,

Telling dreams from one another. —

• 
  Merry
  ✦—Barncat | 25 Moons
  ✦—He/Him
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A skinny, tortoiseshell cat with bright green eyes and pelt speckled with hay.
  #9D6E46

 

[harefoot]

At the confusion on the other's face, Harefoot himself feels confused too. Perhaps there is nothing strange in the wind…? Then Merry questions himself, and Harefoot shakes his head.

"The wind speaks differently to different ears," Harefoot says, poking the mouse with a claw. "What you hear… may not be the same as what I hear. The wind is fickle…"

He eyes the hay Merry had brought him and gives him a grateful nod, working to integrate it into his tightly woven next. Another habit from his kittypet days; didn't like having things poking him. If he could, he'd dig himself a nice little hole in the ground and sleep down there in smooth well trodden dirt. Merry speaks again, and Harefoot looks up at him.

When he's done, Harefoot softly says, "you have… kind eyes, Merry." And then, as if he'd not said anything at all, he answers a question Merry did not ask, not really. "When I was a kittypet, my twolegs had me on a strict diet… all my life, I was on a diet. Guess I got used to it… to making do with very little. Feel sick now, if I eat too much," he bends down and takes a small bite of the mouse. "But you are right, also. It's a fine balance… being able to live without much food is a good thing, in some cases. When food is sparse, it is good. But when it is plenty, and you still cannot eat… you have little energy, like you said. Can't do your part as well…"

He supposes that's another reason he hadn't been eating much. In the warmer moons, Harefoot can offer food for others as well as himself– but he's a lousy mouser, and for that reason has to rely on the kindness of others on many days in the colder ones. On those days, it is good to not be hungry, to only have to ask for very little. But he cannot deny that he is weak, weaker than the others, and has less energy. Merry is wise to observe this duality. Thoughtful, Harefoot takes another bite out of the mouse.

 

[Merrystalk]

—————————————— Dreaming along in a pace you'll understand. ✦

Chewing contently on his piece of mouse, he listened intently still to the other, curious. He paused, just a moment, considering Harefoot's note on the wind. It's not like he ever stopped to listen really. He was always in a rush,
running to and from the barn, the coops, and stables, never slowing down his fervour except to sleep and eat. It would have been worse if it wasn't for his heart being firmly clung to his sleeve, he couldn't help but stop and chat with friends and kin alike. Just like now. A moment to slow down. To breathe. To listen to the wind. It cut through the barn, for a moment, he was attentive to the wind. He wanted to hear what Harefoot could, he let his voice fall silent to listen.

Though he was just as quickly interrupted by Harefoot continuing to speak, a sheepish smile on his face for a moment. "Ah thank ya' I-" But Merry's voice petered off as the other carried on, he listened quietly, a hum reverberating through his throat as he realised what Harefoot meant. He never questioned nor pried the reasons why cats might act the way they do, most everyone in the barn comes from somewhere else less pleasant, something unfortunate in their past that sowed the seeds for who they'd become today. "Well, I ain't ever gonna tell ya' to eat more than ya' can handle, habits 're hard to break, but it's easier to break 'em with someone to help ya' I suppose. Ya got time before the earth thaws with the warmer months 'nd yer out there in the tunnels again."

There was a warmth to his voice, he wanted to make sure Harefoot was okay, and if there's one thing he sure as hell could do to help he could bring along prey. "'specially while the cold's still 'round ya' can always come to me if yer hungry. I'm more than happy to run 'bout the farmland 'nd see if there's anythin' scrurryin' out there." He smiled, he extended this offer to many cats, but usually those too young or old to hunt for themselves, or those new to the barn.

He looked out to the rest of the barn for a moment, the wind again whistling, bristling his fur. There was a sort of wisdom Harefoot held that he likely never could, but he was still curious. "Ya' said there was trouble in the wind?" Merry hummed, thoughtfully. "Any idea what that could be? I ain't noticed much amiss with the prey or land bein' out there huntin'." The mouser pondered, continuing to eat his mouse with his own thoughts hanging in the air.

— And it's harder than you think,

Telling dreams from one another. —

• 
  Merry
  ✦—Barncat | 25 Moons
  ✦—He/Him
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A skinny, tortoiseshell cat with bright green eyes and pelt speckled with hay.
  #9D6E46

 

[harefoot]

Harefoot listens and nods as Merry speaks, muttering a soft 'thank you' at the other cat's offer of food. He is not embarrassed; perhaps he doesn't have it in him anymore, after what he'd been through as a kittypet. Hard for anything to be as embarrassing as being shown off like a piece of freshkill in front of hundreds of two legs. And besides that, Harefoot was well aware of his own limitations, and found no shame in them.

Then Merry poses a question, and Harefoot, slow as he sometimes is to find the words, considers his answer for a good while before saying anything. He pricks his ears, listening to the wind once more, feeling it in his fur.

"Suppose it might be those strange cats on the other side of the moor," Harefoot says thoughtfully, trying to nail down the feeling. "The ones who used to gather in the clearing with the four large trees. Haven't smelled them in the wind lately, even when wandering close to it. Makes you wonder… where all those cats went. Why they left."

He takes another bite of the mouse. "I will... come to you," he says, a complete non sequitur– but he often did that, without noticing it himself. He was replying to something Merry had said, at least, even if his answers came out of order. "You are a good mouser."

 

[Merrystalk]

—————————————— Dreaming along in a pace you'll understand. ✦

It took a moment for Merry to register what Harefoot meant, but the more he considered, the more he realised the other was true. "Now ya' say it..." His voice a hum as he wiped away a bead of blood from his lips. "I ain't seen 'em one bit while huntin' by the trees. Hope they're okay, the freeze ain't been kind to the best of us, maybe they moved elsewhere for better prey?" Merry wondered aloud, it felt like that colony had been around for as long as he could remember. He didn't know any of those cats, but he hoped they were okay, no one deserves to suffer in the cold. "Maybe I can go look 'round the area? I doubt they're there still, or maybe there's somethin' there to explain where they went..." He'd become restless with the cold, maybe he could grab some others from the barn to join him down there once the weather was kinder, he tried not wander too far into the moorlands in such bitter weather.

He couldn't hide the smile on his face from Harefoot's kind words. "Ya' flatter me, it's just what 'm here for. Keep the barn clear of pests for the twolegs." By then he'd completed his mouse, the third and final one sat between the two of them, he didn't reach for it, instead continuing his thoughts. "'d like to think those twolegs appreciate our work in here, kinda hard to tell though." Merry just hoped everything he and the other barncats did was enough to appease them, he didn't want to repeat what happened the last time twolegs found no more use for him... He shook that thought away quickly, though it did make him wonder something about Harefoot, though perhaps that was a question for another day.

— And it's harder than you think,

Telling dreams from one another. —

• 
  Merry
  ✦—Barncat | 25 Moons
  ✦—He/Him
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A skinny, tortoiseshell cat with bright green eyes and pelt speckled with hay.
  #9D6E46