camp Don't tell me I should bow

[SMOKESTAR]

He felt strangely calm about the whole ordeal with the rogue. It was annoying to lose his catch, lose prey for the clan and also be so caught offguard, but it had been humbling in a way. Certainly taught him to stop checking strange sounds alone, though a part of him already knew that; he was just trying to distract himself that day moreso than before and he paid for it. What a stupid price, what a hefty cost. Smokethroat gave a sigh, quiet and breathy, his lone fire and brimstone eye narrowing as it gazed out across the camp; it felt so strange having the other covered. Some aromatic stinging paste and a leaf made him feel as if something was grabbing onto his head and he wasn't comfortable at all with the poultice so tightly bound but he wasn't going to make a fuss over it.
If anything he accepted it as part of the pennance to pay.
Being confined to camp made him far more sympathetic to Houndsnarl's own discomfort, whereas before he merely shrugged and considered it par for the course when it came to injuries, now he was irritated at being suffered the same. A little hypocritical he supposed, but he always viewed himself as made of far tougher stuff than anyone else when he was simply the same blood and flesh as any other cat. It was a little irresponsible of him, he felt like he should be apologizing to Beesong for this lapse in judgement that wasted supplies. He didn't want to admit he had been in such idleness regarding other thoughts he didn't think twice of speaking to what he assumed was a hurt cat attempting to join. Smokethroat had been in such a strange mood that day that the molly probably could have asked for the fish he would have just given it to her stupidly.
"...I'm not good at this..." He muttered to himself, frowning where he lay stretched out by the medicine cat den and head leaning against the wall of tall reeds. Friendships were hard enough to understand and adjust to, he was just now getting to the point where he could look at the cats of the clan and name the few he'd consider as much; the ones he trusted so readily. But what went past that? He'd seen Poppyfrost and Willowroot and their back and forth, he saw how caring Icesparkle and Mudpelt where with one another...was there no set definition for it?
For love?

"I'm stupid...." The tom grumbled, let his head slide down so he could lay it on the ground with a huff, "....maybe I should give him a rock."
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[koispots]

"Give who a r-rock...?" despite the shake of her voice, Koi pops up out of seemingly nowhere with a tilted head. She had overheard Smokethroat and as much as he scares her (he could probably bite her head off in one chomp, she reckons) she's genuinely interested in what the black tom had to say. The spotted apprentice shuffles her paws, already getting grandiose thoughts of who it could be (a friend or lover, she wonders) and she finds herself just a little excited.

However, she draws back when she realizes that he probably wanted space, seating herself a small bit away as she looks over his bandaged wounds. She finds herself wanting to ask if it hurts, but she knows deep down its a stupid question and of course it would hurt- he got beat up, why wouldn't it hurt? Instead she sits in the silence with waiting eyes trained on the tom cat, large ears just sort of perked up.
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"speech"​

 

[Bounceheart]

bounceheart ✧ she/her ✧ riverclan warrior (=˃ᆺ˂=)

Seeing the inky lout of a warrior sulking around was no strange occurrence, but today he seemed more self-loathing and distraught than she had seen from someone in a while... a couple days, at least. There were many tormented souls among them. Some who tortured themselves over their decisions and others their existence. Everything had a purpose, and those who were meant for greatness saw the purpose of the past. It was all about perspective.

She had decided, paws already in motion, that she should not share her perspective. Preaching was unnecessary, and advice was meaningless unless requested prior. Some people only needed to talk nonsense to unknowing individuals to sort out their feelings. Besides, the lead warrior did not seem like the detail-spilling type, no matter how nosy her and Koipaw were. She had found herself joining the two nonetheless. Curiosity prevailed.

Feeling strange staring down at the lofty tom, she too sunk to lay down. An expectant gaze rested on him as she waited for some semblance of a response. ​

 

[GILLSIGHT]

Love is... Love is something Gillpaw doesn't really care about, at his age. Not in the... Not in the Poppysplash and Willowroot kind of way, the young apprentice supposes, but, rather in... in a friendship way! Gillpaw loves his friends, loves making them, too! But all that sappy stuff? No thanks!

So, when Smokethroat speaks, that's exactly what Gillpaw assumes his whole problem is about - he wants friends! And, he wants to give his friend a rock! He doesn't know who Smokethroat wants to give a rock to, but Gillpaw is an expert in gifting rocks. The black and white tom's ears perk up at the lead warrior's words, sunny eyes looking over in excitement.

"I-I... I can help you pick one out!" Gillpaw tells him, practically bouncing as he bounds over to the lead warrior. "I know all the b-best places to find g-good rocks! I'm s-sure your friend w-will love a rock!"
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[SMOKESTAR]

Smokethroat lifted his head in quiet surprise to the sudden question and then following enthusiastic offers, his long orange eye fixated first on Koipaw nervously addressing him in a way he understood (he was a very intimidating cat and he was also very aware of it) to Gillpaw prattling on in delight at the idea of showing him the best places for rocks and how to pick a proper one. Truth be told, his comment had been an exasperated complaint of sarcasm only ramped up by his restlessness and he hadn't realized he'd said it aloud. The apprentice's he might've been able to dismiss with a shake of his head or demand they go be productive but Bounceheart joining fully destroyed this notion. He was going to have to just accept his fate at this point, weak excuses and waving them off was hard with such a stubborn warrior joining their ranks and he was genuinely too tired to fight it.
"...a secret." He said with a low tone, head dipping down as if he was revealing something unheard of, that held an importance and maybe...to some degree it did. RiverClan's collection of trinkets was something he was only beginning to understand still, from Willowroot's collection of different rocks he often kicked accidentally on his way out the warrior's den, to the shells Clayfur liked to tuck around the reeds outside where they caught the light and sent scattered rainbows in their wake, he often considered himself above these sort of frivolties but he remembered the gathering where they all went adorned in bits and baubels and how the carapace perched upon his head seemed like a macrabre crown that was quite opposite its owner in that he shined in an entirely different way-Smokethroat shook his head, waved a paw and resisted the urge to scratch his poultice again. "But tell me about this rock place, Gillpaw. What do you recommend?"


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[GILLSIGHT]

A secret, Smokethroat tells Koipaw. The one who he'd be gifting a rock is a secret.

How excitingly frustrating, not getting to know just who Gillpaw'd be helping Smokethroat pick out a rock for. The lead warrior asks him where he recommends, and, how can he truly know the best spot if he doesn't know which cat the rock was for? What if Smokethroat's friend had a different preference for which rocks?

He thinks long and hard. Shiny rocks - no one could say no to a shiny rock! And he knows where the best of those are hidden!

"B-By the river!" Gillpaw decides, "That's... T-That's where they're the sh-shiniest and s-smoothest! Though... the b-best one's are in the water, a-and Clearsight doesn't let me g-go too far in the w-water yet." A shame, really - just think of all the cool rocks he'd be able to add to his collection.
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