FROSTED FLAKES || Smogmaw

[Frostbite]

He knew many were likely curious as to who the father was. Some more than others, and of course, Smogmaw was one of those cats. He had already made the inquiry silently, and Frostbite knew there was no keeping it from him. So, after mentally preparing himself, he caught the deputy's attention and made his way to a quiet corner of the camp.

He could only imagine what he wanted to say, and while Frostbite wanted nothing more than to curl up in a dark corner and wait for the day these kits decided to forcefully push themselves out of his body and cause him incredible pain.

Some cats don't think much of that. He thinks they should.

He sits as neatly as he can, and looks at Smogmaw with low ears.

"I assume you want to interrogate me over my circumstances." He says.

"Well.... Go ahead, then." He finishes. His voice is neutral, he knows better to have attitudes with Smogmaw.

@smogmaw​

 

[smogstar]

Snowy wisps float through the nursery entrance's branches and brambles, blazoned by piercing eyes which gave prominence to the lingering deputy. Eyebrows draw together at Frostbite's emergence, and a study of the other tom's trajectory prompts them to crease further—he moves in a diametrical manner, straight towards him. He feels something stirring within him, then, as he observes his clanmate's dogged movements. Anticipation, impatience, perhaps a capricious cocktail of the two. One could reasonably deduce that the evil eye he'd conferred upon Frostbite now took a corporeal form, and the child-heavy tom sought to answer questions that, for all intents and purposes, gone unasked. Good. The lens which Smogmaw viewed this particular clanmate through wasn't one he allocated lightly: faith, trust, and reliability, traits seldom found amongst the rest of the clan.

Following on Frostbite's heels, a long-drawn exhale would slither from his throat when his companion opted to kickstart the confrontation. "I know better than to hound an expecting parent, Frostbite," he admits, tone rough like gravel and twice as cold. Half-lidded eyes carry a gleam of detachment in their regard. "But, you understand what I must ask of you, and why, right? Call me presumptious or accusing to your heart's content, I don't care—who put these kits in you? 'Cause I know it's not no one in this bleedin' clan."

A shrivel of him can't fault the other tom for abdicating ShadowClan's dating pool in pursuit of a better suitor. Even a she-cat-inclined tom like Smogmaw knew just how poor the quality of bachelors were in the swamp. ​

 

[Frostbite]

He listens to Smogmaw as he confirms what he had been thinking. He feels a little better knowing he was right and not jumping to conclusions. Now he had to fess up, which left him wondering what sort of reaction he would get.

He nods as Smogmaw speaks. He understands, most certainly. Smogmaw is the deputy, and it's his job to know things.

"Well..." He began.

"I had gone to the carrionplace to have a breakdown in private. A tom approached me, I guess he lives there because he certainly smelled like he did." He says. He almost didn't even notice the guy approaching him, he smelled so trashy.

" He.... Instead of chasing me off, I guess he related to what I was going through and decided to offer comfort instead." He continued.

"I suppose it was my fragile state of mind that got me here, I didn't have the will to push him away like I normally would have. We talked for a bit about grief and shared experiences..." He lowered his head a little, mostly in shame about his actions. " I wasn't in my right mind when things happened."

He decided to stop there, he wasn't going to go into detail about how the rest of the night went.

"I have half a mind to drag him back here and make him help me raise these kits." He adds bitterly with a frown.

"I was irresponsible, I know." He says, lifting his head. "I'll accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate......" He pauses a second. "When I'm able, anyways. This is my mistake, and I'll live with the consequences."​

 

[smogstar]

Lent to Frostbite's tale of woe is a black-capped ear and a pitiful resonance from deep within. No sympathy, not sympathy—for it is a resource too precious to be dispensed at another's ill-advised choices. To reach such profound depths of desperation does not concur with the good-head-on-his-shoulders persona he'd thought the other tom to portray. It nigh on sickens him, yet what does sicken him is Frostbite's efforts to apply reason to these circumstances. Through the deputy's lens, what transpired didn't resemble a tangled web of mistakes. It instead sounded as though a carrionplace vagrant, someone of equivalent value to literal Twoleg waste, saw an opportunity amongst his clanmate's despair and decided to capitalise on it.

"No, Frostbite," Smogmaw rebuts, foreheard tilting netherwards as his gaze tightened. "If that miscreant comes within a kit's-length of our territory, he'll be walking out of here without a pelt." What the hell had he been thinking? A mixture between a sigh and a scowl tears from his chest, then. Already, the other fellow shot his mouth off about the repercussions to his actions. Should have considered them beforehand, the knobhead. "It wouldn't be my decision to punish you for this, and, to be candid, I doubt you will be." No warmer does his voice grow as he speaks. Official consequences for this matter of circumstance simply did not exist in ShadowClan. Forestshade, Betonyfrost... a multitude of solo parents called the swamp home. "You should know, my upbringing was guided by my father alone. Being robbed of a full family was just as hard on him as it was on me. The path ahead for you is punishment enough."

The intensity in his glare wears off some after a slow blink. "I hope you're ready for it," says Smogmaw, finally. Facing him is a tom who'd taken a misstep and forever altered his trajectory. Adapting to this new plight, he'd imagine, will be as difficult as parenthood itself. ​