pafp at tea time, everybody agrees / avoiding socializing

WINDSTRIDER

New member
Oct 31, 2022
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There is one thing Windpaw feared worse than to miss a sparring session or a hunting patrol: having to make small talk.

Bathing in the leaffall sun, they idly went to flick Sootpaw on the nose with their tail, eyes narrowed as they strategize what to do next. Even in their downtime, the company of hurried thoughts and half-chewed ideas kept them busy-minded. Stagnancy was a crime for them, and one Windpaw despised to partake in.

It was when they turned back towards the camp clearing that they saw their denmate. The other apprentice's tail swished in greeting, and they were bounding ever closer to Windpaw and their brother. Already the smoke was unwilling to continue with the conversation... and it hadn't even started. Dreadfully mulling over the hi, how are you that was to come, their frown deepened. "Shit," they hissed. "I'm gone!" Leaping to their paws, they were fast-moving towards the entrance, leaving Sootpaw to catch up and the other WindClanner to watch them depart.

@SOOTPAW
 
small talk is the devil in disguise.

alright, not in a literal sense. but sootpaw's a creature of circumspection, and socialization is a game of risk with little reward.

see: crucial is the plan before the operation, a series of calculations must be devised before teeth could embed themselves in a jugular vein for the killing blow. sootpaw is capable of devising a wicked plan to ensnare a rabbit between his deadly jaws, or formulating a strategy to overthrow an opponent in battle. but conversations are a tango, and he is cursed with two exceedingly fuckin' clumsy left paws. sootpaw could compose a witty remark or knowledgeable elucidation — he does not struggle, per say, with that. the problem lies in his conversational adversary following this carefully constructed script; it is exceptionally rare for them to do so.

they dismantle sootpaw's work like a monster pulverizes its victims; that is to say, the only remaining evidence after the fact is a smear of blood and defecation on the asphalt.

sootpaw is explaining to windpaw a specific battle move his mentor revealed to him that morning, toiling over details, when it happens. a flick of a tail tip against his nose, a sudden tension crashing over the siblings like a bolt of lightning striking a tree. there is another approaching, encroaching upon this important conversation. windpaw, with the swiftness of their very own namesake, flees the scene with an utterance of a word their mother would disapprove of. but sootpaw finds the colorful language to be appropriate for this scenario, perhaps even amusing should he have not been preoccupied with this dread of his denmate's mouth opening for a painstakingly boring introductory topic.

sootpaw would not allow himself to be dragged under by this whirlpool of useless chatter. he would not subject himself to the brain-rotting how are yous and nice weather we're havings. (yes, the weather is nice. no, we don't need to discuss it because we're already aware that it is nice.)

"hello," sootpaw begins with a quirk of his lips. "and goodbye." his sense of humor is unlike any other, isn't it? greeting another just to bid them farewell.

the young boy pursues his sibling in their escape, bolting through the camp's gorse tunnel without sparing a glance over his shoulder.
 
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♚ Having been coming back through the gorse tunnel carrying a rabbit in her jaws, Hyacinthbreath grunts in annoyance as two balls of fur fly past her, paw kicking out to try and trip the both of them as they pass. If successful, the molly would glare down at the two apprentices; were these cats seriously Sootstar's kids? Seriously! Did they not think before they just ran into cats?

"Stop running, you'll scare away prey or hurt yourself. Or something." She grumbles in grumpy irritation, shaking her pelt out before she leaned down and picked her rabbit back up. It swung limply from her jaws, bleeding onto the ground with every drag. "Where are you two going without your mentors?" She asks then, curious and suspicious of the two children.​
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╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

Weaselclaw isn't far behind Hyacinthbreath, having just returned with @ASPENPAW from a hunting expedition. The tabby carries a frail, skinny rabbit in his jaws, too old to outrun a swift moor runner, and he drops it into the fresh-kill pile. Turning burning blue eyes onto Windpaw and Sootpaw, he glowers at the two of them, adding his voice to Hyacinthbreath's: "Don't the two of you have something to do? Because if not, I'll find you something."

He's not the kits' father, no, but he'd been the only cat neared close at their birth, had been the first pair of eyes aside from their mothers' to see the sunrise on their downy pelts. Even if they don't like it, Weaselclaw is their mother's mate now, but more importantly, he's their lead warrior. He will demand respect, and if he doesn't receive it, he'll let their mother know.

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