private 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 [ CHICKBLOOM ]

[CANDORPAW]

Candorpaw finds himself more attuned to his clanmates needs, ever since that day of joyless stories' end... Turmoil has always made him restless. It has been true ever since he was a kit, and the only ways he could possibly assist were things inherently superfluous For as much as a kit could demand a purpose, any warrior would be remiss to put such tasks in the paws of a kit... As an apprentice— further still, soon-to-be warrior, Candorpaw can look to broader horizons. Attentiveness should be true of every aspect, physical and emotional, and as far as the latter is concerned, there is one cat in particular that comes to mind...

" Chickbloom! " he calls out to the burnished warrior. And- ah, Candorpaw ought not to overstep... In a world where names made you, he could never be blind to the mark of naivety by his own. He would not dare insinuate that he knew better than his senior... but perhaps this could coexist with his desire to... ah... give him a bit of a nudge? Of course, nudge's are easier said than done. What use is a half-finished job? And so, his critique is sharp and immediate. " You ought to fix your posture! " he tells him. Up and down, the former kittypet's form is glimpsed. " Smiling would do you some good as well... Your ears— can you hold them in no other manner? " he can't recall ever seeing such, but oh, their constant droop did not at all aid his sorrowful disposition...

OOC: @Chickbloom

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[Chickbloom]

Chickbloom’s mind had been on the past ever since the discovery of Dawnglare and Mallowark, Replaying the argument over and over. Tones taken, words said, both spoken and not. The confrontation that he’d been apart of, aligning his chirp with the chorus of angry voices, it was what drove the medicine cat away.

The baby bird was brought out of himself by the sudden call of the knight-aspirant, egg-splashed pelt fluffing up in fear as amber eyes struggled to meet the other’s steady gaze. Was he in trouble? Was it even possible for a warrior to be in trouble with an apprentice? Preemptive guilt flooded through the boy as Fitful eyes flicked away again, and Chickbloom wondered if it was sad that he was envious of Candorpaw’s confidence.

A small frown crossed worried features when the apprentice’s ‘advice’ reached folded ears. Chickbloom wasn’t in the mood for this, not after what happened. A buttery tail raised, ready to shoo Candorpaw away with a flick, when he paused. Growing a spine, standing up for himself and his friends…it was part of the reason Dawnglare was driven away (in the whelp’s mind, though, it was the entire reason). None of it would’ve happened if they’d kept the medicine cat happy. If he refused now, would Candorpaw leave in anger, just like the others had? And then…

A shudder shot through the Scottish Fold. He didn’t want to cause another death, no matter how unlikely it was.

“Y-Yes, I should…” He agreed, trying to sit up straight. It was easy enough so far, but Candorpaw was a thorough instructor. The boy’s frown flipped upside-down, into a forced (and kind of creepy) smile. Unfortunately, that was about the best he could do.

The comment about his ears made the milksop burn with embarrassment. “Um, I don’t think so…” He’d never really thought of it before. They’d always been like this, right? Or maybe Chickbloom was dropped on his head as a kit, and the protrusions were permanently bent. “I’ll - I’ll t-try something, hold on-“ The living doormat craned his head to the side, hoping to make gravity fix his defect. One ear flopped up, but the boy was now on the verge of breaking his own neck.

Wincing, the whelp rolled onto his back, trying to get both to bend to his will. Both ears flicked to the ground, looking sort of normal (if one squinted hard enough). Chickbloom straightened his posture again before returning his focus to Candorpaw.

“Is - Is this good?” He asked, an upside-down cat with a creepy smile, straight back, and only kind of bent ears. “I d-don’t think I can - y’know - l-live like this, though. S-Sorry…”​

 

[CANDORPAW]

The advice is taken swiftly. Candorpaw offers the meek warrior an approving nod. So he had some spirit...! Ah, though perhaps he was not made for a smile in quite the same way that Candorpaw was. He was no bully, no. He does have the soul to appreciate effort where it was spent, and so he would speak nothing of the... unnatural nature of Chickbloom's smile. Not yet, anyhow. Though his own expression would waver at the sight of it, a partway wince.

His ears, apparently immovable! How peculiar, this... Chickbloom stoops to quite drastic measures in an attempt to fix what was born broken. The display is quite enough to convince Candorpaw this aspect of him is incurable. Ah... but he continues still! Taking that extra step to roll onto his back. The flaming apprentice looks down at him in wonderment, white maw agape. " Such dedication, my friend, " he remarks. It is more of a murmur, perhaps some ways away from the enthusiastic remark he would give under normal circumstances... Such a situation was anything but, though. Between Chickbloom's unfortunate affliction and the Clan's, both. Hum... perhaps the problem was instead, Candorpaw's lack of dedication? Was the former kittypet outshining him in this aspect?

Is this good? asks this morning's subject. Candorpaw tilts his head, at a loss for an answer for a brief moment. His tail grazes the warrior's leg. " If you put your mind to it, I am certain that you could... " Less confident, this statement... For hadn't he just learned that belief was not the key in everything? That not everything would work out, if you simply insisted it would? The young tom catches his lip beneath a fang, thoughtful. " But... hm. Rise, my friend. "

Candorpaw levels his gaze at him. " We need not do everything at once. My apologies. " In a gesture of respect, he dips his head. " Solutions will come with time. " Would they? " Your posture is fantastic. Your smile... " he tips his head. " Could use improvement. Why not relax? "​

 

[Chickbloom]

Wide amber eyes were ever-watchful. Reading between (sometimes nonexistent) lines, scanning every expression and twitch of muscle for the slightest sign of judgement, Chickbloom put more effort into the practice than many of his hunts. As such, it was no surprise the Scottish Fold caught sight of the half-wince that briefly flashed across the other’s face like a comet of ill-omen.

Was he doing a bad job? The coward wasn’t the smiling type - certainly not the goofy full grin he was doing right now. The muscles dropped for a moment before the boy caught them, resuming the uncanny expression. At least Candorpaw complimented him in other ways, and the whelp’s forced features became a bit more genuine as he got an ‘A’ for effort.

Speaking of effort, the baby bird was finding it hard to focus on Candorpaw like this. Looking up to the other by pointing his eyes down, it was all terribly confusing- not helped by the heap of blood rushing to his head. Chickbloom sighed with relief as he was ordered to roll over, not minding playing the part of dog for the moment if it meant righting himself.

Sitting up, the spineless whelp swayed for a few moments while listening to his instructor. “I-It’s okay. I know you’re only - only t-trying to help.” Part of the response was genuine, a shortage of self-esteem making Chickbloom believe the blunt boy held the solutions to his problems. The other side of his cooperation was equally as simple: a desire for the autumn-colored apprentice to not run off like Dawnglare. “Just keep him happy…”

With a self-imposed task like that, it was hard for the anxious tom to take the next set of instructions in stride (on top of all the usual difficulties). “I - I don’t -“ Relax? With the exception of a few cats, Chickbloom could only relax when alone. Despite his good intentions, the tom who’d just pointed out flaws when the whelp was minding his business was certainly not a part of that list. It was like the tree falling in the woods: unprovable.

Still, the Scottish Fold would try his best. Taking a deep breath, the boy tried to oxymoronically (or maybe just moronically) force calm to come. All it accomplished was making him look odd, like a criminal trying to act casual. “I - I can’t do it.” The coward muttered in frustration. It wasn’t impossible for Chickbloom to relax, but it couldn’t be pulled out like a party trick. He wasn’t alone, there were potential eyes on him everywhere, there was nothing to occupy fidgeting paws with, his friends weren’t around -

“H-How do you do it?” Chickbloom asked suddenly while tilting his head to the side, tone more curious and inquiring than desperate or jealous. “Y’know - be…you. Y-You called out to me and - and started t-telling me what to d-do, you’re always really l-loud - n-not in a bad way - a-and assertive. You seem relaxed, too. I could - could n-never do that. So, how - how do you?” ​