.Rain, rain go away. {Open}

[c e d a r *]

The tall, lean figure stood alone on the top of one of the many hills that marked WindClan territory. The warm air had suddenly shifted and the winds began to tear through the moor. Grasses blew furiously, the small trees that dotted their territory waved to a point where the tom thought they might snap in half. Then it stopped. And then all of a sudden one raindrop fell. And then another. After that, the sky opened up and thousands upon thousands of tiny, sparking drops pelted to the ground. His already wet pelt was now immune to the rain. The rain slid off his pelt and dripped to the ground below him. This was Duskfeather's favorite time of late Newleaf. The heat was beginning to go away, and with that came large storms. Looking up to the sky, the tom saw a dark canopy of dangerous gray-black clouds which didn't even appear to be moving. There was no sign of the blue skies that dotted the heavens earlier, it was just a mass of black clouds.

With that said, lightning flashed once across the sky. Quickly, but it illuminated the dark scene with such ferocity, he could see the moor for that millisecond. Everything was still after that one lightning strike. He closed his eyes and took a large breath, inhaling the wet scents around him. Instantly, he relaxed. Keeping relaxed, he waited. Then it came. A large rolling of thunder. It was long, not sharp and it did not necessarily make a sharp cracking noise as it bounced around. It was merely one large, long, peal of thunder. The thunder finally came to a stop and all was still. No noise apart from the beautiful sound of the rain hitting the now sodden marsh lands.

Opening his eyes, the male looked across the whole of the lands. He could see RiverClan's lake through the steady stream of rain, could make out the pine trees in ShadowClan's territory, and could make out the large, wooded area of ThunderClan's forest. On a clear, sunny day, the crispness of it all blew the tom away, but today, the continuous pouring of rain masked any clarity from it all. It was like his vision was impaired, and quite frankly, he hated it. He tried everything to see that beautiful lake clearly, from narrowing his eyes, to standing up and craning his neck forward. Then another strike of lightning flashed. And so the storm was not over. This one strike of lightning did not illuminate the sky, nor did it illuminate much of anything else. Only the area around it. It was a bolt of lightning, seeming to touch the ground when it struck.

Sure, the warrior loved sunny days, where the air was so warm and thick, you felt so lazy, you didn't even want to go running, but it was days like these the warrior killed for. Days where the humidity increased and the air became so still, you knew what would happen. Where the warm air would suddenly disappear and yet the humidity stayed along with you. When that first drop of rain hit your pelt, and you shivered, knowing what was coming. Only storms allowed that to happen, and the thought of storms made his adrenaline rush. The rain had lessened, but the tom was still frustrated. The lake was emitting some sort of fog around itself, wrapping along the borders of the lake, and drifting its way up to the heavens. Now the lake was masked completely.

Actually, the mist had spread, weaving its way around the thick forest of Thunderclan, getting itself situated between every opening and crevice it could find. And the mist in ShadowClan's territory looked especially unwelcoming. The already dark pine trees were now caught in a thick layer of fog that seemed to hover hesitantly before moving its way into their territory. The unusual thought made Duskfeather want to laugh for a short while, but the male kept absolutely still. The rain had come to a complete stop apart from a few remaining large, plump raindrops that managed to find the warriors pelt. He wasn't cold, no. The rain made him feel cool, but the intense humidity seemed to make everything level. Thinking back to the fog, and looking out to the other territories, the tom turned himself around. His maw almost opened in surprise, but he caught himself in time. His whole world was covered in a fine veil of misty fog. He could see a little here and there, but other than that he was completely masked.

Then the humidity dropped and the mist finally began to move away, floating peacefully and quietly along to other places, he assumed. His ears were pricked and hues were alight with the joy of seeing everything that happened before, during, and after a storm. He reminded himself to do things like this more often. A slight sigh escaped his lips. He had gone for a hunt and was left in the middle of a storm. He supposed he would have to find something later on. His eyes focused in on the grass below him. It was left with a frosting of clear crystals. He skimmed his paw ever so lightly on the grass, and they were gone. So it was water he was seeing. He looked around and saw that every inch of the territories grasses were left with the light sprinkling of water crystals, and he breathed out three completely true words. "It is beautiful.." his words trailed off and he allowed them to be carried away with the wind that began to sift around the territory, clearing away the dark gray clouds. Bringing his head up to the sky, the warrior watched the storm clouds roll away to another place.

Where that other place was, the tom did not know. He did not need to know, but he did hope at least one thing. That others were as happy for the storm as he was. It changed everything so dramatically, and was also a sign that Newleaf was quickly on its way out. The changing temperatures intermixed created the storms. He was delighted by the storm, and he picked himself up onto his paws and gave a grumbled sigh. Now he'd have to go along and search for a piece of prey. Maybe he could catch a rabbit. They stayed in their burrows during storms, didn't they? If they had left their burrows, they would only have that light dusting of water from the grass on their pelt. He wouldn't get annoyed glances by bringing in a sodden piece of prey. It was settled, the sodden, wet tom was going to go for a rabbit.

[Heathclaw]

A muscular tom stood upon a hilltop, eyes closed, mind open. Long, reddish fur caught each tiny fluctuation of the wind. Tall, sensitive ears caught each note of the wind's song. Sometimes, the air was soft and quiet. Other times, like today, it raged and howled, turbulent and violent. When the wind blew like this, it raised the spirit, calling it to battle.

Rustlepelt inhaled deeply, breathing in the cool, lakeward breeze, and then snapped his eyes open. He whirled around, quick as lightning, claws out, slashing out a circular swathe of grass, then leapt back, landing deftly on his paw pads. He then charged forward, slamming an invisible enemy with his shoulder and raking claws through its hide. On this went for several moments, a furious dance of fur and fang, in step with the wind's howl, and then:

A pause. A quiet breath. The soft sound of claws sliding back into their pads. The wind was silenced, and then, unbidden, a single drop fell from the sky, bursting between Rustlepelt's ears and running down his fur. His head snapped upwards, eyes widening in dismay at the sight of a sky dark with storm clouds, which were dripping with thousands of raindrops at this very moment.

"StarClan's sake," Rustlepelt muttered, dashing away from the hilltop, even though he knew there could be no escape. Even as he ran, the rain caught up to him, each drop soaking deep into his fur, matting it and plastering it to his skin. Lightning flashed overhead, and thunder rolled, as the late Newleaf storm rose to its height.

With little to no cover in sight, Rustlepelt sighed and stood still, letting the rain pound down. In time, the rain eased, leaving a cloud of thick, wet fog behind. After a moment, even that was cleared by a gentle breeze, revealing a moorland covered in shimmering dew.

"Wonderful," grumbled Rustlepelt, shaking out his sodden pelt. With his fur soaked down, he seemed half his size; a dripping, wet furball. Perhaps some time spent out in the sun would fix the problem. The clan could always use another piece of fresh-kill, and he had energy to burn and time to kill.

That decided, Rustlepelt stalked off, keeping his mouth slightly open, checking for scent. Though the rain had doused all the old scents, he came across a fresh rabbit trail after a bit of searching. He crouched down, eyes gazing ahead, fixed on the plump, brown piece of prey. He crept forward two paces, and then charged forward, piling on speed as he chased the flighty rabbit, matching every change in direction. He was gaining, he could almost see every hair on the rabbit's back, and then, unbelievably, he slipped, tripped up by a muddy patch on the moor.

Even as he tumbled, he caught a glance of another cat nearby, just as wet, within range of the rabbit. "Duskfeather! Look sharp!" Rustlepelt yowled.

[c e d a r *]

First he spotted a longish red pelt sliding its way down the hillside. Eyes were open before he caught another scent, much powerful than a wet, muddy WindClan cat. The tom heard whatever cat it was yowl 'Look Sharp!' That was when he saw it, a sodden rabbit, eyes wide from the chase. His pace picked up as he streaked across the muddy moor, eyes fixed on the piece of prey bounding away from him. Optics were narrowed in concentration and everything else was a blur apart from that one, plump rabbit. It was late Newleaf, he'd need to get that one last plump piece of prey.

He cursed as he almost managed to do the same thing that other cat had done; slipped on the mud. His paws were wet and muddy, and he found himself slowing, which made him push himself even harder. Growling, he dug his claws into the ground and pounced, barely getting within reach of the brown rabbit. He could see the water on its pelt, the different markings on it, and the wide, beady eyes. Clawing at it as it tried to get away, the male bit down hard on its neck, finally allowing a small, proud smile break through his serious features. He picked up the rabbit in his jaws, going back to where he had seen the cat fall.

Nearing the tom, he could scent him through the mud and the wet. Ah, Rustlepelt, the loyal tom. The one with the leadership skills. Dropping the rabbit at his reddish paws, the brown tabby tom nodded tanks. "I believe this is yours," he meowed with another nod and a smile. Getting to his paws, Duskfeather kneaded the ground. "I should probably get around and see if any other rabbits are out of their holes, but I could use a little chat..it's been too quiet for me," he meowed with a light and hearty chuckle. Looking down at his paws, the warriors narrowed his eyes. Oh, he'd have to clean himself well when they got back to camp.

Swallowing, the male sighed. "Nice try. I enjoyed the spill, though," he laughed quietly, pricking his ears at a small rustling. Oh, it was nothing. Just the wind. Opening his mouth, he attempted to scent something -- anything, but the wetness of the air was so intense, it was hard to tell the grass from a cat. Everything seemed to have that damp smell to it. He disliked the aftermath of a good rain shower. A purr rumbled in his throat as he managed to think back to the storm. "Quite a quick storm, hm?" he asked quietly, looking to the lightening skies. The clouds were definitely moving away from them and going somewhere.

Optics made their way around the area. Nothing was really moving. The wind was still and as the sun began to shine through the clouds, the heat began to grow. He could almost feel his short, tabby pelt begin to dry. Amazing was the weather in Newleaf, he swore it changed so much, he couldn't even keep track of it. The male cleared his throat and sighed again. He didn't feel like hunting in this weather, but he supposed even a small bird would do. Standing up, the warriors arched his back and flicked his tail. Maybe Rustlepelt felt like going on a hunt? He surely didn't want to turn into a drowned, muddy rat, but he'd do anything to help feed the members of his clan.

[MOTHER NATURE]

A thunder storm begins to brew and the rain starts to pour down. It doesn't look like the storm shows any signs of stopping any time soon.

[Heathclaw]

Rustlepelt wasn't the kind of cat that allowed another to do his duties for him. He was off the moment he'd managed to pull himself out of the mud and get all four paws back onto the ground, rejoining the chase.

The mud-soaked tom weaved from side to side, in his pursuit: Duskfeather and the rabbit were a ways ahead, but if the rabbit made the mistake of changing direction, Rustlepelt would be ready.

And so it was a bit of disappointment when Duskfeather leapt forward, just barely snagging the rabbit by the tips of his claws. Nevertheless, he was impressed by his clanmate's technique. When Duskfeather returned, Rustlepelt opened his mouth, about to congratulate the him, but the tom spoke first, smiling and dropping the rabbit at his feet.

"I believe this is yours."

Rustlepelt smiled back, although the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He nudged the rabbit away with his muzzle. "Credit should be given where credit is due. This was your catch, Duskfeather, not mine."

He glanced upwards. The sky was clear now, the sun's rays just beginning to shine down. But then again, at this time of year, who knew how quickly the weather changed?

"Nice try. I enjoyed the spill, though," Duskfeather commented with a small laugh. "Quite a quick storm, no?"

Rustlepelt's nodded briskly. "Not quick enough for my liking. You know, Duskfeather, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were mocking me."

He gave his clanmate a stern look, and then his whiskers twitched. "Joking. Come on, let's go for a hunt. Our pelts could probably use some time in the sun. I look like a half-drowned rat." With that, he bounded past Duskfeather, ears pricked up for the slight rustling sound of prey.

Instead, he heard the rumbling of thunder, making him whirl around and glance back up at the sky. "Starclan's sake, where did those come from?" murmured Rustlepelt, pointing with his tail at a group of fast approaching clouds, dark as night.

Within moments, the clouds would be upon them, showering them with a second deluge of rain. "Great," Rustlepelt muttered. "Looks like we're back where we started."

[c e d a r *]

His catch? Why yes, it was but still, Rustlepelt had been the one to seek out the prey and begin the chase. It was Rustlepelt who had alerted him of the plump rabbit that was nearly making its escape. It was all Rustlepelt, he was only there to do what he was alerted to do, catch it. Opening his mouth, the tom wanted to refuse, but he changed the subject quickly, moving onto the weather and - ah - how he had mentioned his fall. No hard done, after seeing the other warriors whiskers twitch. His smile had some sort of seriousness to it, but Duskfeather pushed it away with a flick of his tail.

Duskfeather listened to his clanmate, whiskers twitching as he looked guiltily at Rustlepelt. "Mocking? No, I was merely commenting," he meowed with a small smile, matching that of Rustlepelt's. "And that storm? I love them, the longer the better," he meowed. "Keeps everything so green," he purred, his green eyes shining happily. His paws worked at the soft, wet ground, making loose indentations below. He looked to the sky, seeing tips of dark, luminous clouds coming straight toward them.

Hunting? Ah, yes. But would the sun stay out long enough to warm them? And if so, they would get soaked with what was coming. Another storm, and this looked worse than the one before. Duskfeather nodded, hearing the distant growl of thunder, rolling its way through the hills and valleys. "I suppose if we were for a hunting trip it would have to be soon and end quickly. Our camp could probably need some more prey. I'd love to go hunting with you," he meowed, feeling the wind pick up.

They'd have to hurry and be quick. By the looks of the dark clouds, this storm was going to be a lot worse than the one beforehand. He sighed, nodding, and got to his mud-stained paws. Another crack of thunder nearly made the tom jump, but he dug his claws into the ground once more. It was getting closer. "Think the prey will still be out?" the male asked. Did they have a chance to get something? The tall grasses were moving side to side quickly now, the clouds fast approaching. The tom shivered mentally and outside, shaking his still damp pelt. They'd be soaked within a few moments. He'd let Rustlepelt decide what to do, his eyes showing really no emotion. He had no problems with storms, but it was what his hunting friend really wanted.

OOC::
{I don't know if you just want to have them go back to camp because we need to wrap up our threads or whatever.}

[Heathclaw]

(I think we have time to bag a rabbit.)

Rustlepelt sensed that Duskfeather wasn't fully comfortable with accepting the rabbit, but decided to put the matter out of his mind. The ends justified the means, after all. Rustlepelt was also astounded that Duskfeather actually enjoyed storms, but then again, the relatively short-furred tom didn't suffer as much from rain as he did.

The once calm wind was once again working itself up into a frenzy, howling across the moor and setting the grass in a wild dance. Rustlepelt took a breath of the cool, wet air, and exhaled heavily. "The only creatures that would be out and about in this kind of weather are absolute mousebrains," he said decisively. "The storm masks the sound of prey, and the rain washes away all of the scent."

A great gust of wind blew past them, showering them with the first of what would be many raindrops. "Sounds like a decent enough challenge, doesn't it? Come on, let's bury what we've got so far and get going. You can lead." meowed Rustlepelt, picking up the rabbit and pawing a hole into the ground.

On any other day, Rustlepelt might have decided to turn back into camp, but he had to make up for slipping up in front of Duskfeather. Besides, there was something truly exhilirating about being out on the moor when the sky was split with thunder and when the wind raged like this. It wasn't quite like the rush of battle, but it was enough to get his heart pumping. Perhaps this was what Duskfeather meant when he said that he liked storms?

His tail lashed impatiently as he finished the hole, dropping the rabbit inside for the time being. He looked up, eyes lit. "Alright, let's go!"

[c e d a r *]

As he waited for Rustlepelt to wrap up placing the drenched rabbit into an already water-filled hole, the male kneaded the ground in what seemed like an impatient manner, but truly, he was quite calm and reserved. Nothing like a good storm to make the tom in a positive mood. Not any amount of rain could drown his high spirits. The adrenaline racing through his veins was a push for him to get one more catch; a catch of his own. He wouldn't allow someones mishap count for his won catch, no way. He wanted his own rabbit, and it would be quite the challenge finding one in a storm like this.

By the time Duskfeather had set off, the wind was roaring and there was no sign of the heavy rainfall to dissipate. The ground was turning water-logged and a shiver wen down his spine every tie his paws got wet. The water on his pelt was not a big deal, but seeping in between his paws and on his pads? The feeling was just so abnormal. He hadn't seen the moors this waterlogged in a long time. He could almost sense the sound of the waves crashing against the shore of the lake, pushing in and falling back.

Energy made it's way to his paws, and instead of slipping, he found his paws gliding against the earth, as wet as it was. Paws suddenly dug into the wet earth, making the tom slide at least two fox-lengths before he could actually walk. They were slightly under a little bit of cover, and the rain was slowing. A little, anyways. The tom opened his mouth, catching a very faint scent of rabbit. Or was it just him? He didn't know. Prey was definitely lucky if they were out right now. He followed the scent trail quietly, cringing as the ground grew wetter and the air grew thicker with the scent of rainwater. He sighed and he made his way forward, making sure he wasn't brushing up against anything.

And sure enough, there it was.

There it was, a rabbit. Normally it would be fluffy and a pristine glowing shade of white but on a day like today, the coat of the rabbit was brown and streaked with wet mud. It's tail was drenched and the normally fluffy ball was soaked and..well..small. He took a deep breath, familliarizing himself with the scent of his prey. He etched every so slowly up to the creature, flicking his tail before springing.

He almost ended face up in the mud, but the rabbit was in his grasp. He snagged it with his claws, barely managing to keep it in his grip. He managed though, getting his head together and biting into the neck. The water that seeped into his mouth was the least bit pleasant, but hey he got a rabbit. He was mud soaked and quite cold, but he had his rabbit. Now he needed to go and find Rustlepelt.

[Heathclaw]

It wasn't ideal, dropping a rabbit in a watering hole, but it was probably the best they could manage in this weather. With that settled, Rustlepelt streaked off after Duskfeather. His predictions had come true; all he could hear was the roar of the storm, all he could scent was water, and the thick clouds made the moor as dark as night. This was going to be difficult.

The ground squelched muddily underpaw as they ran. Rustlepelt made a face. With the ground as wet and soggy as this, they might as well have been in ShadowClan or RiverClan. Were it any consolation, at least his pelt was fully soaked now. All of the extra rainwater from the storm simply slid off, for which he was eternally grateful.

With two of his hunting senses rendered useless, the tom decided that he'd have to rely on sight alone. With his eyes narrowed, Rustlepelt scanned across the moor as he ran, looking for a lead. Lightning flashed across the sky, throwing their surroundings into sharp relief. For a split second, Rustlepelt became aware of a telltale pair of tall ears along the moor to his right. "Got one!" Rustlepelt yowled, breaking off from Duskfeather and veering to the right.

Without the lightning, it became difficult to spot the rabbit a second time, but Rustlepelt could just barely make out the outline. He charged for it, and proved his suspicions correct as the outline dashed away. Should've stayed still, little rabbit, Rustlepelt thought as he chased after it, following its movements.

Unfortunately, this hunt still wasn't as easy. Carrying the weight of all the water in his fur, Rustlepelt could feel himself slowing. He practically roared once he discovered this, willing his body to pile on more speed. I will NOT lose a second catch!

It was nature that ended the chase in his favor; a stream crossed their path, flooded by the storm, too wide to cross. The rabbit panicked, turned sideways, and ran, straight into Rustlepelt's jaws. With a single snap, the rabbit was snuffed.

With the rabbit in his teeth, Rustlepelt turned to examine the stream. Never before had he seen it this flooded, swelling over its very banks. This storm was turning into a bigger problem than he'd first thought. He needed to find Duskfeather, and they needed to get back to camp straightaway. Curse this rain. Rain...

Rainstar. Why had Rainstar vanished? Truly, this was a disaster. Without her, without even a deputy, the clan that he loved would soon fall into disarray. They needed a leader, and somewhere deep inside him, he knew that he desperately wanted that position, wanted it so much that it almost scared him. But then, why shouldn't he be leader? After waiting through the absurdity of Dawnthorn, and then through Rainstar's indecision, he felt sure that he deserved some position in the clan. He shook his head. Enough of this. They had to get back, and see if the rain had even left them a clan.

He retraced his steps, dropping the rabbit and calling out Duskfeather's name ever few paces before he met up with the warrior, foxlengths from where they'd buried the first rabbit. "It's raining pretty badly out here, Duskfeather. I have to admit that I'm a bit worried. Let's head back to camp." Rustlepelt said, digging up the sodden rabbit that was their first catch.

(Shall we continue here for a few posts, or maybe move this to camp? I'm tempted to join in on Faythe and Fernie's thread, if they don't mind.)

[c e d a r *]

{Just so this post doesn't go into liquid time, I'm going to have to put it on hold or just allow it to be complete. Please post in the clan meeting <3}