Of Smog & Ashes [open]

Sprinter blinked once, standing at the edge of the forest, near the old barn. For the past few weeks since she'd discovered it, she'd been coming out there to hunt for mice. Although there weren't many hiding places, some of the mice were quite the little troopers. It was rather disappointing to find another cat there, and as he was crouched down, she suspected he might be on the lookout for the small rodents. There were only so many to go around; She might end up needing to find another place to hunt. On closer examination, however, she saw that the cat likely wasn't hunting. Something about the way she, as Sprinter was assuming it was a girl, held herself was in the way of exploring. As though this was new to them. An owned cat- Kitty pet, whatever- which was unlikely a threat.
Because of that, Sprinter could continue her hunting. She crouched low, swiveling her ears to try and pick up a sound of tiny feet. Top floor seemed to have one, although the top floor was the level of danger. She'd almost fallen through once, after making the mistake of leaping at a mouse with all her weight. She laughed inwardly, remembering the splinter she'd gotten, as her sort of prize for stupidity. As quietly as she could, she went up the stairs, being careful on the third step up. That one always seemed to creak, and sure enough, it did a little. The mice sound stopped, probably frozen in fear. Oh for Sirs' sake... She tried to be quicker with the next few steps, reaching the top in a few seconds. A few seconds too late, perhaps. Smelling the air, she tried to pin-point the mouse. Sprinter circled the room, wondering if she could hear the heartbeat if she got close enough. A faint bum-bump sounded like it was coming from behind a metal bucket, well rusted from age and the missing boards. Going by instinct, she lunged at the rodent, having it in her claws within seconds. It gave a final squeak before it's life came to a sudden end. Pleased with her catch, she started towards the stairs to bring it back to her makeshift home.

Sprinter crept down the rickety steps, wondering how she could have possibly missed the sound of the Kitty Pet leaving. She had been focused on the mouse, of course, but she doubted the cat would've known enough to keep quiet. She turned in a tight circle, trying to see if the cat was just hiding... Her ears couldn't tell her enough; perhaps the kitty wasn't scared, or had really left. Either way, it was nothing of her concern. She'd already crossed off the idea that the cat was a threat in her head, a short while ago. Dusty sunlight beams fell across the floor. The feeling of being watched made her uneasy, but she dipped out of the barn through a hole near the floor. Hopefully her judgment had been correct about there being no threat. She was rarely wrong, but when she was Sprinter tended to crash and burn.
Once in the surrounding grass, she set down the mouse. Her stomach growled, impatient at being fed. There had been no food yesterday, as a result of noisy trail hikers. They normally didn't come that far out, but they had, and scared off all the prey. Sprinter had been left with nothing to catch, and because she didn't store food, there was nothing to have. Focusing on the pitiful mouse, she ate heartily. It was always a satisfaction; eating something you had caught yourself. It made her feel more independent, as she could remember being forced to sit and wait for Sir to bring something back for her and her siblings to eat. It had been boring times, although Silvertounge teasing Oscar was entertaining in it's own way. She lifted her head above the grass, glancing back at the barn. The mouse was small, and although it would tide her over, she would need to hunt again. Maybe not at the barn, though. She still wasn't convinced the cat had just left.

Decidedly, she voted to come back later, to continue her hunt. Sprinter had been about to head off, when a flicker of movement caught her attention. The brown-white-black cat slipped out of the barn. So it had just been hiding... interesting. Maybe it wasn't a kitty pet after all. The cat, although, was heading for a pile of planks that had been there who knows how long. Sprinter hesitated at calling out a warning, and the now-dubbed-obvious kitty pet smacked into them. They well to the ground rather loudly, and her ears pressed back in annoyance. The other cat got it worse, though, or at least acted as though it was worse. The strange cat jumped back with a hiss, back arching in a humorous scene. Sprinter struggled to keep a straight face, seeing his obvious shame in being spotted.
She flicked her tail, noting the sheepishness way the kitty stepped back. "So you are a kitty pet, then..." She said, in a normal speaking tone. Her expression was rather amused, glad that it had been sorted out. "Smart, though, you knew enough to hide." She continued, though, as she wanted to even out the insult. She wasn't hopelessly rude, she didn't want to cross the line between speaking the truth and just making a dungface of herself. Unless it was just from being petrified, though, she figured in her head. She didn't move forward, not particularly caring whether the cat ran off without responding or not, but she didn't feel as though she would do enough to purposefully scare the thing away.

Sprinter's ears flicked in slight annoyance, hearing him explain that they preferred to be called a housecat, or cat. It wasn't about preference, it was about their wimpiness. Clan cats tended to hold themselves above others, who couldn't survive like they did. She decided not to comment on that, though. She had nothing to complement on, and being judged as rude was never good. There was no point in it, unless looking to make an enemy. As a cat who lived alone with only the protection of some cats not being good at climbing trees, she didn't need the stress of knowing someone hated her. Then again, it was good to have a common enemy, someone you could hate as a group. It actually would bring others together. Who says hate is a bad thing. She dipped her head in response to his greeting. "You as well, Specter." The name was similar to her own, although if she remembered correctly, it was a human one. Maybe the humans were dim enough to think that the tom was a human.
At the other question, she laughed once. She'd been expecting that question, although the answer was tricky. "As a short answer, it's a group of wild cats that live together. Working as a team to survive." Her mind was racing though, and she figured to add the details. Because with just that, it sounded like a perfect life. Truthfully, she didn't believe that. Herself, she would hate to join one. "There are four around here, I believe. They take a word, such as Squirrel, and add Clan to the end of it. SquirrelClan is the only one I've actually spoken with before, although I've seen some cats from other Clans about." She decided against speaking about the whole kit-paw-star thing. At least, for now. It was a lot of information. There was more to speak of, though, and she lowered her tone, indicating that the sentence wasn't to be taken lightly. "Sometimes, they'll fight each other. Over territory, trespassing, prey, and general disputes. When this happens, more often than not cats will die. There's no humans, the ones they call two-leggeds, around here. If a cat gets hurt, and the medicine cat cannot heal them, they're off to "Star Clan". Although they could be saved, possibly, if running back to their humans, they won't. It's a thing of honor, to not become scared and leave." She closed her mouth decidedly, focusing back on the other cat. She could've kept speaking, there was so much to talk about, but she doubted a life of adventure was anything of interest to a kittypet. They had their soft beds, from what Oscar had told her very fine foods, and a life of leisure. "It's a very complicated thing." She said finally, swatting at a bee with her paw.