- Feb 21, 2024
- 26
- 3
- 3
In Mockingbirdcry's eyes, her curiosity relating to how the council as it currently sits feels about their Clan's transition in leaders is a perfectly normal thing, acceptable even. In those of others, she understands ( to some degree ), it might be misconstrued as rude . . . doubtful, even, of the proficiency of either side of the still - flipping leadership coin. Not so; her interest ( or nosiness ) in the opinions of the current council members during this ever - awkward period between the downfall of one leader and the impending ascension of another is born not of disbelief ( or belief in incompetence, rather), but of simple interest . . . curiosity about the tidal wave this will send through the ever - crashing sea of Clan politics.
One member, in particular. She seeks out Sharpshadow's opinion on the thing not only as a matter of course for any council member, but also from the unique perspective of having endured an ( overlong ) tutelage under their incoming leader's guidance. Mockingbirdcry dares not ( verbally ) question his competence as a mentor, or Sharpshadow's as a pupil, given the exceptional length of the chimera's extended apprenticeship, one she'd watched with some curiosity from the permanent sideline of the nursery . . . but she does wonder at it. Regardless, the lead warrior's thoughts will be appreciated as any high - ranking cat's, doubly so given her personal familiarity with Smogmaw.
" Sharpshadow, " she greets in courteous tones despite the hoarseness of an overtaxed voice, fluffy head dipping respectfully low in acknowledgement of his superior status within the Clan. Ever one to bow to hierarchy, Mockingbirdcry makes no exception now; the queen cants her head to the space near the chimera's side ( but not too near, manners must be minded ) in a wordless request to sit. Once granted, she makes herself comfortable on crumbling mud, tucking her heavy tail about white paws, its split - hued underside marred with splashes of mud and tufts of errant greenery.
" You're well, I hope? " As ever, she camouflages instinctive candor with polite chit - chat, lest she offend @SHARPSHADOW by striking immediately to the marrow of the issue . . . though, of course, the degree of groveling necessary varied wildly from cat to cat. Feathery ears twitch in acknowledgement of her companion's jittery reply, chestnut - dark eyes roving wide across the camp, their smooth arc ending firmly on the now - unoccupied surface of the Clanrock, its trademark lichens momentarily unstirred by power - infused paws. " So . . . "
" . . . How are you feeling about our impending leader? " She fixes Sharpshadow with an unflinching gaze, lacking in any insecure flickers of deeply brown pupils, the wide doeish nature of her eyes somewhat countering the laser - focus of the queen's stare. For a moment, it seems as though every silent judgement outpours in her eyes . . . and then it's quickly corrected, oak - hued gaze softening with an accompanying cushion to the starkness of her question. Mockingbirdcry's voice is a polite rasp as she self - corrects on instinct, " I'm merely curious about what it must be like from a council member's point of view. "
One member, in particular. She seeks out Sharpshadow's opinion on the thing not only as a matter of course for any council member, but also from the unique perspective of having endured an ( overlong ) tutelage under their incoming leader's guidance. Mockingbirdcry dares not ( verbally ) question his competence as a mentor, or Sharpshadow's as a pupil, given the exceptional length of the chimera's extended apprenticeship, one she'd watched with some curiosity from the permanent sideline of the nursery . . . but she does wonder at it. Regardless, the lead warrior's thoughts will be appreciated as any high - ranking cat's, doubly so given her personal familiarity with Smogmaw.
" Sharpshadow, " she greets in courteous tones despite the hoarseness of an overtaxed voice, fluffy head dipping respectfully low in acknowledgement of his superior status within the Clan. Ever one to bow to hierarchy, Mockingbirdcry makes no exception now; the queen cants her head to the space near the chimera's side ( but not too near, manners must be minded ) in a wordless request to sit. Once granted, she makes herself comfortable on crumbling mud, tucking her heavy tail about white paws, its split - hued underside marred with splashes of mud and tufts of errant greenery.
" You're well, I hope? " As ever, she camouflages instinctive candor with polite chit - chat, lest she offend @SHARPSHADOW by striking immediately to the marrow of the issue . . . though, of course, the degree of groveling necessary varied wildly from cat to cat. Feathery ears twitch in acknowledgement of her companion's jittery reply, chestnut - dark eyes roving wide across the camp, their smooth arc ending firmly on the now - unoccupied surface of the Clanrock, its trademark lichens momentarily unstirred by power - infused paws. " So . . . "
" . . . How are you feeling about our impending leader? " She fixes Sharpshadow with an unflinching gaze, lacking in any insecure flickers of deeply brown pupils, the wide doeish nature of her eyes somewhat countering the laser - focus of the queen's stare. For a moment, it seems as though every silent judgement outpours in her eyes . . . and then it's quickly corrected, oak - hued gaze softening with an accompanying cushion to the starkness of her question. Mockingbirdcry's voice is a polite rasp as she self - corrects on instinct, " I'm merely curious about what it must be like from a council member's point of view. "
