Accidental Anti-Procrastination (Open)

Well... this was it.

The Forest.

With the Clans.

Er.

Here...

In these trees....

Somewhere...........

The short stocky grey and white splashed tom stood in the sparce collection of trees at the forest's edge, shifting from paw to paw awkwardly. How exactly was he going to do this? The War was supposed to be over, but, uh, was it really safe? Were they sure? He had come to join the clans but the plurality of that statement implied there was more than one. How was he to know which clan he should be joining? How was he to decided? Would he even be given a choice if he found one of the more brutal or aggressive ones? He knew that any cat that had anything to do with Thorn Clan he was to avoid and former cats of Dusk or Dawn Clan could be trusted but he could hardly go around asking cats about such things, now could he? He had a few key names drilled into his brain by his parents. Not 'worried parents' mind you. Oh no. They were not concerned in the slightest. They thought all this was some grand adventure. They thought it would be 'good for him'. They wanted him to go have an exciting life and make something of himself and build a family and maybe even become Leader some day!

Sometimes Fright wondered if his parents had been dropped on their heads at birth. ... Or maybe that whole past-life thing had just not worked out so well and half of their brains stayed dead. Honestly? It would explain a lot. Especially about their relationship. That is to say, they were horrible for each other. Absolutely horrible. They could agree on nothing, shared next to zero interests, and had seemingly only one iron-strong thread holding them together as a couple: The fact that they were hopelessly in Stupid with one another. 

In Stupid.

Not Love.

Their words. Not his.

Fright flicked his tail apprehensively and sighed. He wished there was a way to get this over with without physically getting it over with. He was stalling here and he knew it. Stalling would not increase his effectiveness on his mission in any way. It would merely decrease his drive and resolve, but his paws stayed planted right where they were all the same.

The tom bit his lip, amber eyes searching. What was he going to do? Apparently it was stand around all day if he had any say in it. He tried to think of something motivating. Like his father telling him to do it. Er. Except Longtail was not exactly a motivational cat and would have simply kicked his tail for not getting this over with already. His mother... had infinite patience. It was something Fright had grown to appreciate more and more as he got older and had to deal with more and more younger siblings. He hoped he would be like Larksong one day. So far, so good and he seemed to have infinite patience for stepping paw into this forest and getting his new life started. That was not the kind of patience he wanted though.

The tom sighed. Again. He shifted his paws. Again.

....

"Alright. I'm going in," he murmured quietly.

.........

....................

.............................................

...................................................................

Fright was still at the edge of the forest. He shifted on his paws.

...

Again.

You know, he really could just go to the clans tomorrow. It was not like anyone was expecting him or anything. It would be fine. Really. He could just go find them and very likely get himself killed in the process tomorrow. Not today. It was such a nice day. He wouldn't want to be murdered on a day like today. Nope. No siree. He would just wait for tomorrow. 

... Exactly like he had yesterday.

......And the day before that.

..........And the day before that. Had Fright mentioned he had been living on the border for a little over a week now? 

Er. Yeah. But tomorrow! Tomorrow was going to be the day! For sure!


The soft grey tom padded away from the intimidating trees with growing relief, instead searching for the scent of prey. Fright was not hungry. He seldom ate to be honest. He had a slow metabolism and simply did not see too much appeal to food other than to keep his body functioning. He simply liked hunting. It was soothing for him, and it did not hurt that he was insanely good at it. This had less to do with natural talent and everything to do with him spending all his free time tracking, but he did not care about that too much. 

Mouth open and nose twitching Fright began what Fright did best. 

He found a mouse. He found another mouse. More mice. Fright took care not to scare the little critters when he found them. He hated doing that. It seemed so mean. Granted he needed their meat to survive, but that did not mean he had to like it. He tried to be as nice to prey as he could be. After all, how would he feel if their positions were switched, right?

Fright was getting sick of tracking mice though. They did not try very hard to hide their scents. He wanted something different. Something challenging. It had been a challenging week and a good hunt would sooth his ruffled fur. That was when he caught it. Just the smell he needed to make his eyes widen and his paws itch with the desire of the hunt.

Chipmunks! Perfect!

The tom set on the trail with new found enthusiasm. Chipmunks were smart prey, and very creative. They led him on a winding, twirling trail through field and trees. Fright followed his nose diligently, his enjoyment rising with every pawstep, his watery amber eyes now keen and focused. He would sometimes lose the scent in a pile of leaves or small creek -Had there been creeks by the field? Oh. Ah. No-he was in the forest now. When had that happened? Not that it mattered. Anyway - but Fright was thorough in combing back over the landscape, twisting between rock and tree and bush, his nose leading him without fail. It was an interesting trail. The chipmunk in question was out in the fields, scavenging, but had come back to a den in the trees but another chipmunk had gone out  deeper into the forest where it met a third -perhaps a friend? or relative? or, uh, second mate? (Fright decided not to dwell on this last possibility as he felt his cheeks darken in a blush at the very idea) He followed the third chipmunk down and around the deep of the wood, where trees had become large and towering enough for Fright to be forced to take notice of his location, but even that did not deter him. This creature was crafty alright. Very clever -or very scatterbrained. It was always hard to tell with Chipmunks. It make them such good sport though! Fright had to back track the most over this venture. At times he almost had to give up the hunt entirely! But no, oh no, he got the old boy in the end. Yes sir. The short grey tom settled down with a contented sigh at the root of a tree where a nest was burrowed. He grinned. Not bad. Not bad at all, if he did say so himself. Three trails? All in the span of... what? How long had it been?

Fright frowned. Wait. How long had it been? And... where was he? The white patched tom's eyes widened with increasing alarm as he finally took note of his surroundings in a context other than a means to complete his Hunt. How had he gotten into the forest? When had that happened?! And he was so deep in them too! Fright shot to his paws, his short fur bristling fearfully. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no! What was he going to do? Which way did he go? He was trapped! TRAPPED!

And if the clans find me I am going to be dead!