private CAN YOU BRING LIFE TO ANYTHING? [🥀] vulturepaw

[deerpaw]

(set later in the day after this thread)

Once they've finished their duties for the day, Deerpaw awkwardly leads Vulturepaw out for a quick jaunt to the flower patch. Deerpaw is far from the most loquacious cat in WindClan, so for the most part he pads along silently as he casts awkward glances towards Vulturepaw beside him. They're both tired from working, but the camp already looks and feels so much better with Vulturepaw's sweet-scented decorations hanging all about. More flowers can only mean more improvement, right?

He isn't sure how to talk to Vulturepaw. He wouldn't even know how to start a conversation with himself, if he were a different, just as nervous cat. What would Vulturepaw like from him? Frustratingly, Deerpaw doesn't know much about him, aside from whispers of how he'd defended a DuskClanner. Hadn't she been stolen by them, too? He can't remember, exactly. It all sounds so terrifying, so Deerpaw refrains from bringing it up to avoid upsetting the skittish apprentice, and discomfiting himself. His night-dark, burr-like pelt always within his peripheral vision, Deerpaw sighs, trying to pass it off as taking a deep breath of fresh air, and keeps walking.

When the flower patch finally enters his line of sight, Deerpaw quickens his pace, motioning with his tail for Vulture paw to follow him. He bounds forward and wades into the flowers, sniffing and inspecting them, looking for... "Um, Vulturepaw?" He asks quietly, raising his head to look at them sheepishly. "How... how do I know which ones to pick?" Maybe that's a stupid question. StarClan, he hopes that isn't a stupid question.

@Vulturepaw ​

[ JUST LOOKING FOR A PROTECTOR, GOD NEVER REACHED OUT IN TIME -- ]​

 

[Vulturepaw]

˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖ 　They walk in silence. Vulturepaw wants it to be comfortable, wishes that he was the kind of cat who could find comfort in the ease of others' company. But he is a rabbit-hearted creature, skittish and humming with adrenaline.

They remember the path to the flower patch, etched in their mind. It's become a favorite spot, a special little garden for him alone. A place where she can let her worried thoughts slip away. It feels strange to show another... But then, Deerpaw had been there when they first saw it, hadn't he? His woody pelt looked as much a part of the landscape as the earth itself, his quiet voice hardly stirring the swaying flowers. It eases some of the fluttering beating of his heart, to remember it.

He hardly registers when they reach the flower patch itself, so caught up in the memory. Deerpaw bounds forwards on lanky fawn's legs, stands tall along the petals as though this is where he belongs. They stare for a moment, only to startle when he speaks their name. "Oh, um..." He hesitates, as though unused to being addressed. Amberglow eyes widen, light flickering across them, before his head bows once more and they glance away. "You d-d-don't... really have to, I guess?" The uptick her his voice belies her own lack of confidence, but she tries at a shaky smile nonetheless. "Just, uh - pick out... whichever ones you like!" He treads forwards to meet Deerpaw among the sea of blossoms.

I HAD TO LEARN THAT THE HELPING HAND ⛧ CAN BE THE SAME THAT HOLDS THE KNIFE

• 
  

• 

  
  
  "SPEECH"
  ​

• 
  VULTUREPAW ⛧ he / they / she, apprentice of windclan, eight moons.
  ➳ a spiky-furred dark tabby with amber eyes.
  ➳ skittish and dour, with a superstitious sort of pessimism.
  ➳ micheal x npc, adopted by periwinklebreeze.
  ➳ sibling to dustpaw, bilberrypaw, mourningpaw and weepingpaw.
  ➳ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ➳ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[deerpaw]

He's oblivious to Vulturepaw's stare on his pelt, too preoccupied in searching through the blossoms. Deer-like eyes glance up to acknowledge their reply with a burning pelt. "Oh," he says simply, embarrassed. "Um... alright then!" Deerpaw bites the inside of his lip, berating himself for the clumsy reply. What if he scares Vulturepaw off?

Wracking his brain for a way to repair his blunder, he stammers, "Wh-which ones do you like the best, Vulturepaw?" Showing interest in other cats' interests is a good way to make friends, he's learned. Something about Vulturepaw makes him feel a little less alone in his alienation. He wonders if the spiky-furred apprentice grieves for what his life was like before, whether before his kidnapping or his life in DuskClan. Deerpaw wouldn't blame him if it was the latter. He was taken so young, there's no telling what it did to his feelings.

But those are questions to be asked at a much later date. Right now the only thing they outwardly share between themselves is the peace of this patch of flowers. It's comfortable, and Deerpaw would hate to shatter this moment with invasive questions.
​

[ JUST LOOKING FOR A PROTECTOR, GOD NEVER REACHED OUT IN TIME -- ]​

 

[Vulturepaw]

˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖ 　Deerpaw seems just as awkward and wrong-footed as Vulturepaw feels, which emboldens the prickly apprentice. Oblivious to the swirling miasma of questions in the other's head, he perks up a bit at the question. Flickering ember eyes skip across petals, sheepishly avoiding staring again. "Oh, th-that's a hard question. They're all so pretty..." they mutter, padding further into the flower patch.

Petals brush against Vulturepaw's flank, and he lifts a paw to pull a flower upwards. The bell-like blossom comes to face him, painting night-purple and vibrant. A morning glory. "I like... These ones! I see them around the horseplace a lot. But they're, um, shy. So we c-c-can't pick them, or they'll wilt..." He quickly drops the flower, feeling a little embarassed. He quickly searches for another. "Oh, b-but these ones we can! They're, um, meadow roses! They d-d-don't get t-too many thorns, so if you're c-cuh... c-careful you can just..." They lean forwards, nip at the stem with delicate teeth.

And after carefully plucking a few of the silky pink blossoms, she places them down in a little bundle. "T-Tuh... Ta-da!" Vulturepaw declares with a lopsided smile.

Their eyes lock with Deerpaw's again, and the self-consciousness returns in a rush. He's staring at them. Of couse he is, they were demonstrating - but their pelt burns nonetheless. "Um. S-sorry for rambling," he mumbles, head ducking back down.

I HAD TO LEARN THAT THE HELPING HAND ⛧ CAN BE THE SAME THAT HOLDS THE KNIFE

• 
  

• 

  
  
  "SPEECH"
  ​

• 
  VULTUREPAW ⛧ he / they / she, apprentice of windclan, eight moons.
  ➳ a spiky-furred dark tabby with amber eyes.
  ➳ skittish and dour, with a superstitious sort of pessimism.
  ➳ micheal x npc, adopted by periwinklebreeze.
  ➳ sibling to dustpaw, bilberrypaw, mourningpaw and weepingpaw.
  ➳ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ➳ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[deerpaw]

A morning glory. Deerpaw's never heard of this flower before, he thinks. Intrigued, he slinks up beside Vulturepaw, keeping some distance between them to avoid spooking the other apprentice, but close enough to see the soft purple blossom lifted up in her paw. ...But they're, um, shy. "S-sounds like a couple of apprentices I know," Deerpaw murmurs, the awkward quip slipping out involuntarily. He startles as if he's been stung by something and checks to make sure he hadn't offended them.

Vulturepaw is off again, drawing Deerpaw closer to a flower-laden shrub. The blossoms are pink, and they smell amazing. In this, his prickly denmate suddenly seems confident, leaning forward into the thorny branches to carefully pick a few of the flowers. Fascinated by the sudden ease of her demeanor, he watches as they're set down in a little bundle on the ground between them. A sense of pride fills him at the sight of Vulturepaw's grin, knowing that his own words and questions made that smile happen. Actually, he doesn't think he's ever seen her smile before.

But then their eyes meet, and all of Vulturepaw's confidence seems to leave him. Deerpaw wishes it was something he could catch in his paws and return to him. "Oh - no, no! I asked!" He insists, unknowingly leaning forward in emphasis. "The flowers - um, they're lovely! Thank you. For answering, I mean." The deer-like tom tries for an encouraging smile. "Can... can you tell me about some more of them?"

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‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── my biggest enemy is me ⋆⋅🥀⋅⋆ ever since day one ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  
  "speech"
  

• 

• DEERPAW ❀ he/him, apprentice of windclan, eleven moons
  ⭃ a tall, lanky chocolate ticked tabby tuxedo with big copper eyes. quiet and sensitive, he keeps to the fringes of windclan out of a deep sense of insecurity. without his father to guide him, he's lost sight of where his life is supposed to go. he thinks he has to be useful in order to be liked.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by solaire ↛ @funeralscythe on discord, feel free to ping for plots.
  

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