private ✦ ° — BLEED AMERICAN / TWITCHBOLT

[SLATE]

Word spread like wildfire in such tight-knit quarters. There was nothing else to do in this smelly den but gossip and whisper about happenings in the clan — Slate did not have cotton fluff in his ears; he heard most conversations shared by the other medicine den patients, even if some of it was against his will. The lead warrior had not recalled Twitchbolt and Orangestar having any sort of one-on-one conversation, so Slate could only assume that he had been dozing off at the time. Naturally, the Maine Coon has only overheard the rumors and is curious as to why Twitchbolt had made such a decision.

Luckily for Slate, he needn't search far for the brown-and-cream tom. Across the way lies the deputy ( or now former deputy ) in his nest. The large male shifted his weight in the uncomfortable, makeshift nest, amber eyes settling on the patchwork form for a few moments until Twitchbolt noticed that he was looking. "I heard that you stepped down." He says nothing else, only letting the statement linger in the air between them while he awaited a response of sorts from Twitchbolt himself. Slate does not consider himself to be someone who pries for information. Prone to eavesdropping once in a while, if anything, but the lead warrior largely kept to his own business. The personal affairs of his clanmates did not concern him and, in most cases, did not even interest him. This, however, was proving to be an exception. The position of deputy was highly coveted and not to mention important, especially to Orangestar. Had something happened? Would Twitchbolt tell?

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙅𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝘼 𝘽𝙄𝙏 𝙊𝙁 𝙇𝙐𝘾𝙆, 𝙂𝙀𝙏 '𝙀𝙈 𝙐𝙋

• @TWITCHBOLT

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• 

  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾

  slate
  

  — he/him; lead warrior of skyclan
  — a hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​

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​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

It was all anyone was asking him recently... Twitchbolt supposed he should have been expecting it even from cats who didn't often seek him out. Well, it wasn't really seeking, that wordless glance... amber eyes lifting in his direction, studying him. Twitchbolt let free a long sigh at the question, his politeness stifled behind exhaustion. I heard that you stepped down. Yes, yes, everyone had heard by now, he was sure. And what were they all saying? Theorising? Oh, that it was bound to happen, that he never deserved it in the first place, that Orangestar had finally come to her senses...

They were better off, now. They should all know that as well as he did. SkyClan was not doomed to a terrible future where they were stuck with him as their leader. And yet- all everyone wanted to know was why. Why he'd stepped away- as if every single one of them hadn't thought it was an awful idea to begin with! As if every single one of them weren't waiting for him to fail!

"You heard right." Twitchbolt's face wrinked up into a look or perturbed irritation. "I s'pose you're going to ask me why?" It was only a matter of time, really- before every Skyclanner asked him that question. "What idiot would give up that honour, right?" His patience had worn thin over these gossip filled days. If Slate wanted to know, Twitchbolt had not the effort to withhold it.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[SLATE]

Twitchbolt's expression, readily filled with vexation, came as somewhat of a surprise to Slate. He did not know the cream-and-brown tom to address his clanmates in such a manner. Whatever had happened, Twitchbolt obviously was not pleased about it. Had he really stepped down on his own accord, or was that a lie?

The Maine Coon averts his gaze, eyes now fixing onto camp as he spoke, "I can't lie 'n say that I'm not curious about it, but I won't push you." Twitchbolt could do what he wanted; he wasn't going to pry. It would only be a matter of time before more rumors started going around about the real reason why the patchwork tom stepped away from his newfound role. And even then... maybe it wasn't truly important. Not when Orangestar was going to promote someone else in Twitchbolt's place shortly.

He shrugs almost nonchalantly, sporting a tone that is honest — not particularly smug and certainly not sympathetic. "'S probably better that you did." Slate stated with a flick of his tail. "Better than stickin' around when you weren't ready for the position." He rumbles casually, acting as if he knew exactly what had gone through Twitchbolt's mind. It was likely no coincidence that the chocolate feline abandoned his post immediately following the fox attack. The realization of the responsibility on his shoulders, the expectation that he would stand in for Ora in dire times... It was a lot to bear. Orangestar had been a strong-willed, steadfast, and unwavering deputy in her day. She had dedicated herself to SkyClan when Blazestar's other deputies could not; she had accepted her destiny as a future leader and as a protector, even at the cost of her own life. Perhaps Twitchbolt had been too frightened by those expectations. Slate certainly would have been, admittedly. That was the reason why he had confided in Orangestar long ago that the role of a second-in-command and a potential leader was not something he could live up to. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be ready for something of that magnitude.

Whoever Orangestar's next deputy was, she needed someone dependable and strong enough—worthy enough—to stand at her side. Twitchbolt had been none of those things.

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙅𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝘼 𝘽𝙄𝙏 𝙊𝙁 𝙇𝙐𝘾𝙆, 𝙂𝙀𝙏 '𝙀𝙈 𝙐𝙋

•  

• 

• 

  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾

  slate
  

  — he/him; lead warrior of skyclan
  — a hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​

  ​

​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

A croak rumbled in the back of Twitchbolt's throat, somewhat skeptical that the aim of Slate conversing with him wasn't to get the gossip. Why else would anyone bother? But if Slate insisted he wasn't going to push, then Twitchbolt would not begrudge the dark warrior that. He at least cared, apparently, where a cat like Figfeather hadn't. One of his longest, oldest friends... striding right out ot the den and barely looking back. Twitchbolt seized violently upon remembering it.

It's better that you did. Even while Twitchbolt rationalised inwardly that he had done the right thing, that stepping away was for the best, the agony of doing so was so raw that Slate's words wrenched a bitter know in Twitchbolt's stomach. "Yes, and I bet everyone's very happy they finally got proven right," Twitchbolt spat. He wasn't an idiot. The looks of abject confusion, of bitter disbelief in him- he'd rather they all just ignored hm than look at him like that, look at him like he wasn't enough.

But he never had been, had he? Ignorable or hateable, one of the other. Blazestar had seen something in him- but clearly, even after moons, he'd not proven himself enough. The judgemental flicker in the eyes of onlookers when he was giving out patrols, the resignation with which Slate spoke, as if it had been entirely predictable. "I..." I wasn't ready. Is that right? "I was ready. Despite what you and everyone else thought." The words coming out of his mouth surprised him, but he was too resigned to think to suffocate them. "It's not about me. It's about what's best for SkyClan."​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[SLATE]

Slate does not bat an eye at Twitchbolt's self-pity, his apparent frustrations at not being able to live up to his newfound role. The Maine Coon had not found the anxious tom to be a bad warrior by any means — in fact, in recent times, he had started to show more backbone than Slate ever thought possible. However, that did not mean that he had been a better fit for deputy than someone like Silversmoke. An annoying stickler and sharp-tongued rival ( was he still even considered a rival? ) he was, though Slate was confident that he would not abandon his post after a single close call. Whatever Twitchbolt said, whatever excuse he wanted to make, all Slate saw was a coward.

His tone garners a sharper edge now, seemingly absorbing Twitchbolt's energy and spitting it right back out, "If you were ready then why did you step down?" It was not as if Slate himself hadn't grappled with a fear of death and dying before. He had stared death in the eyes multiple times, all by threats such as twolegs or dogs. To this day, such instances still invade his mind when he least expects it, serving as a grim reminder of his mortality and his powerlessness against bigger and stronger forces. However, Slate had no sympathy to spare for Twitchbolt. He couldn't—wouldn't—accept mediocrity when SkyClan's high ranks were concerned. When Orangestar's life and the fate of SkyClan was concerned. Their leader deserved a second-in-command as steadfast as she had been to Blazestar, and... Slate could not give her that. Therefore, whoever else Orangestar put her trust in was subjected to his criticism.

The lead warrior could at least give Twitchbolt credit for putting the clan first, and not himself. Staying in a position of power and juggling doubts and uncertainty surely would have negatively impacted SkyClan sooner or later. So, for that, Slate can't say that he's truly angry with Twitchbolt. He isn't sure if he's disappointed, either, not when he hadn't much confidence in the patchwork tom cat to begin with. "Havin' a dependable deputy would be best for Orangestar." Slate grunts, shuffling in his nest and beginning to turn his back on his denmate. A few beats pass before he decides to add, "And for SkyClan." They could all only hope that Orangestar made a better pick the next time around.

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙅𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝘼 𝘽𝙄𝙏 𝙊𝙁 𝙇𝙐𝘾𝙆, 𝙂𝙀𝙏 '𝙀𝙈 𝙐𝙋

•  

• 

• 

  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾

  slate
  

  — he/him; lead warrior of skyclan
  — a hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​

  ​

​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Slate had said earliet he wouldn't push, and yet- there he was, asking the same question everyone else did. In the dim light, Twitchbolt's face held a wrinkling, twisting bitterness- beneath the skin began to broil very real anger. Grasping, jittering paws kneaded and ripped at the earth. "Like I said- it wasn't about me," Twitchbolt spat, his nose wrinkling with frustration. "What I was ready for, what I want- it doesn't matter." and maybe that was the first time he'd admitted it, that he had wanted it. Was that why it hurt so much to rip it away?

He had not missed the few moments that had passed between the mention of Orangestar and SkyClan. Twitchbolt bristled at the memory of Orangestar's steely tone of disappointment, insisting I disagree when Twitchbolt had stated he was not what the Clan needed. "I needed to think of what was best for SkyClan. Not just for Orangestar." Slate's disbelief in him was thinly veiled, and fizzed on his skin like spat acid. Twitchbolt had, apparently, not been a dependable deputy. Everyone had crouched in the sidelines, waiting for him to fail- even with his moons on SkyClan's council, Slate had been no different.

Spitefully, Twitchbolt almost wanted to stamp it into Slate's head that his beloved Orangestar had believed in him, and had perhaps been the only one. Instead, he turned away as Slate did. "This conversation is over. I'm tired of cats like you acting like it's cowardice. Like it was easily done, and bound to happen. I'm sss-sick to death of it." ​

penned by pin ✧​