- Jul 24, 2023
- 213
- 48
- 28
✦ TW: Mention of death and grief.
Dogbite wasn't sure how to feel anymore. In the wake of Applefrost's passing they felt aimless. Working through the motions of every day duties with tiredness weighing him. Given the eerily tense air sitting stagnant between him and Slate. They couldn't find it in themselves to have told the other no. In tandem they stepped outside of camp. He was thankful to have a strong patrol buddy but he wasn't sure if they'd ever been alone together. Daylight barely broke through the fog from earlier nightfall. Dew had just begun to cling to leaves, and the sky's yellows bled through blues, lighting up the trees and the fine hairs on the tabby's scruffy head. Quietly, he walked alongside his much bulkier clanmate, tattered ears only a glimpse above the other's jawline.
Slate was always a heavy presence of stoicism and grit, grizzled by a tough life and a dedication that went beyond clanborn ideologies. Often they struggled to agree with past comments made by the floppy-eared powerhouse. In his mind's eye, his patrolmate was always wound tight and slinking, giving the cinnamon and white Lead only a small taste of Slate's real stature. The silence was deafening, and with each paw step, it seemed louder and louder. Maybe I can ask him about later patrols? Craining his head to get a good look at the gray tom, his blue eye focused on the long tendrils of ashen lining Slate's jaw. Such a topic felt borish and unlikely a good topic stirrer. His ear twitched awkwardly as a ghostly sense of unease nagged Dogbite. Maybe not... While they walked by shrubbery and plant litter he pondered.
Usually, they found solace in peaceful mornings and lone walks, but there was a new troublesome decision: having to figure out how to speak with Slate. A bundle of nerves coiled like a serpent each time he spent a modicum of time with anyone these days. Despite their lack of conversation in the moons following, he didn't fear the fellow Lead. In fact, he held a silent appreciation for their dedication and loyalty shown. It was no surprise why Slate held a slot within the council. Loyal. A shock of guilt turned the tides of his thoughts, and before he knew it, a familiar shoreline caught his attention.
Freckled paws waded through thinning grasses as the two Skyclanners halted just shy of the scent markers. Well. Feels like it's too late to talk now. Subconsciously, his shoulders loosened, and he turned to find a lone stump to wind around. Branch-like stripes bent across a sun-freckled body. Again, his gaze landed on the Maine Coon in question, and Dogbite could no longer stand it. Kicking down their endless pool of worries they took the first leap. Plainly, he called to his clanmate with a scratchy rumbling tone. "How has it been since Cherryblossom became deputy?" This felt like a good conversation starter. Not. There was genuine interest in his mew as he stepped back towards Slate.
A poor attempt to ignore the lingering disappointment of Twitchbolt's decision. They hoped it wouldn't blend in with their current fray of woes. Casually, their heavy-lidded expression landed squarely on the ruggish mound of charcoal fur. A smidge of admiration sat just on the edge of twitching whiskers. Surely, Slate would think there was pride in the knowledge of having a successful pupil? In honesty, Dogbite wanted to try and share in that, maybe open up an unseen barrier by letting his own walls down. Although the unknown of Slate's temperament caused his physical language to read a touch more shy, ears half-raised and tail swishing lowly. Scarred face burning with the added heat of soundless anxieties.
Dogbite wasn't sure how to feel anymore. In the wake of Applefrost's passing they felt aimless. Working through the motions of every day duties with tiredness weighing him. Given the eerily tense air sitting stagnant between him and Slate. They couldn't find it in themselves to have told the other no. In tandem they stepped outside of camp. He was thankful to have a strong patrol buddy but he wasn't sure if they'd ever been alone together. Daylight barely broke through the fog from earlier nightfall. Dew had just begun to cling to leaves, and the sky's yellows bled through blues, lighting up the trees and the fine hairs on the tabby's scruffy head. Quietly, he walked alongside his much bulkier clanmate, tattered ears only a glimpse above the other's jawline.
Slate was always a heavy presence of stoicism and grit, grizzled by a tough life and a dedication that went beyond clanborn ideologies. Often they struggled to agree with past comments made by the floppy-eared powerhouse. In his mind's eye, his patrolmate was always wound tight and slinking, giving the cinnamon and white Lead only a small taste of Slate's real stature. The silence was deafening, and with each paw step, it seemed louder and louder. Maybe I can ask him about later patrols? Craining his head to get a good look at the gray tom, his blue eye focused on the long tendrils of ashen lining Slate's jaw. Such a topic felt borish and unlikely a good topic stirrer. His ear twitched awkwardly as a ghostly sense of unease nagged Dogbite. Maybe not... While they walked by shrubbery and plant litter he pondered.
Usually, they found solace in peaceful mornings and lone walks, but there was a new troublesome decision: having to figure out how to speak with Slate. A bundle of nerves coiled like a serpent each time he spent a modicum of time with anyone these days. Despite their lack of conversation in the moons following, he didn't fear the fellow Lead. In fact, he held a silent appreciation for their dedication and loyalty shown. It was no surprise why Slate held a slot within the council. Loyal. A shock of guilt turned the tides of his thoughts, and before he knew it, a familiar shoreline caught his attention.
Freckled paws waded through thinning grasses as the two Skyclanners halted just shy of the scent markers. Well. Feels like it's too late to talk now. Subconsciously, his shoulders loosened, and he turned to find a lone stump to wind around. Branch-like stripes bent across a sun-freckled body. Again, his gaze landed on the Maine Coon in question, and Dogbite could no longer stand it. Kicking down their endless pool of worries they took the first leap. Plainly, he called to his clanmate with a scratchy rumbling tone. "How has it been since Cherryblossom became deputy?" This felt like a good conversation starter. Not. There was genuine interest in his mew as he stepped back towards Slate.
A poor attempt to ignore the lingering disappointment of Twitchbolt's decision. They hoped it wouldn't blend in with their current fray of woes. Casually, their heavy-lidded expression landed squarely on the ruggish mound of charcoal fur. A smidge of admiration sat just on the edge of twitching whiskers. Surely, Slate would think there was pride in the knowledge of having a successful pupil? In honesty, Dogbite wanted to try and share in that, maybe open up an unseen barrier by letting his own walls down. Although the unknown of Slate's temperament caused his physical language to read a touch more shy, ears half-raised and tail swishing lowly. Scarred face burning with the added heat of soundless anxieties.
- @SLATE
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✧ LH cinnamon tabby high white blue eye
✧ npc x npc ; sibling to crescent and bear
✧ skyclan lead warrior ; ex-loner
✧ 34 moons old ; birthday 07/01
✧ AFAB ; nonbinary ; he/they
✧ pansexual ; polyromantic ; single
✧ "speech", thought, attack, powerplay
✧ peaceful powerplay allowed
✧ penned by tasmagoric
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