FORGET MY NAME & I’LL FORGET IT TOO — tornadopaw

[BURNSTORM]

There is a part of him that cannot deny the curiosity he feels upon hearing the words “we need to talk” addressed to him, equal measures a need to know and an anxiety that claws in his stomach. Tornadopaw was a friend, albeit one from another clan and Burnpaw knew exactly how well having friends from another clan could go. Snowpaw, after all, had once been considered a friend. He shakes the thoughts of darker times from his mind, though one could say now was a dark time as well, and once he has led the black smoke far enough away from the chatter of four trees he sits, curling his large and fluffy tail around his paws, yellow eyed staring at her with the intensity of the sun.

"Here we are, talk" he does not mean for his words to sound so gruff, so calloused. But with the week he had could anyone blame him for coming off a little cold? Not to mention Shadow Clan had been stealing from his clan. He ought to be way angrier, he knows, but when he looks at Tornadopaw he cannot muster it. He would do the same in her paws. If he was ordered to march upon Shadowclan land and take prey from their mouths to feed cats like his mother, his sister, he would not even hesitate. He cannot fault them for this. Cannot fault her for following orders. Really if he ought to be mad at anyone it should be the bastard king himself, the one that sits upon high rock now.

// @Tornadopaw
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[Tornadopaw]

If you don't like me, that's your problem

As he leads the way she trails behind, partially lost in thought, whilst inwardly bewildered by her actions of seeking him out. After all, Tornadopaw did not believe she would make it this far. For she fully expected him to brush her off, for their blossoming friendship to be left shredded and in shambles, and truthfully she wouldn't blame him. That was the cruel reality of clan life she came to realize. Understanding that survival sometimes meant doing whatever the clan could by whatever means necessary. Weaving out from the final stragglers of fourtree's crowd, fatigued paws grind to a tired halt once the thunderclan apprentice takes a seat. Remaining in silence she takes a moment to assess his features. He seemed comfortable enough, not so taunt that she feels as if she might have to rush. Although she does discern subtle notes of curiosity, perhaps this would work well in her favor.

His gruff tone meets her ears and Tornado responds with a shallow nod. "Yeah, alright..." The black smoke murmurs low, exhausted from the simple trek here. With a small grimace she lowers herself into a seated position, tongue rasping over the disheveled curls upon her chest and she catches herself in the act. Since when has she ever cared about her appearance before? Hardly ever, yet she finds herself embarrassed over her withered frame before him. Her brows pull taunt, sifting away confusing emotions so she can focus on the task at hand. "I wanted to apologize. I can't speak for all of shadowclan but I'm sorry for-for stealing prey. Thunderclan doesn't deserve that, you don't deserve that." Her paws shift anxiously beneath her and she attempts to hide the act by placing her tail upon them. "Also, you weren't hurt were you? During the raids I mean." She questions, typical coarse voice softened as she tips her head.​

When I let it bother me, that's my problem​

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