Listen, my friend! I'm telling you, it was a beautiful sight in the snow back then. Those mollies were absolutely stunning with the white background." A loud voice calls in the snow, lifting a silvery paw up to his lips to cover a haughty laugh. Everyone here was always so lackluster, they needed some light in their life. His tail lashes behind him as a few mollies giggle along, the soft Quit the compliments, Owltalon! You're makin' me blush. causing him to grin. It wasn't his fault that he was so fabulous, a good host in his own right.
"With all of us starving, someone's gotta keep morale up, right?" Owltalon chirps, turning to the group of cats nearby. "Bonjour, my friends! Care to join us for a chat? You've all been working so hard today."
──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 He reminds Wolfsong of a strutting bird during the spring, throwing their brightly colored plumage in the hopes of securing a legacy. He should never fear drowning with a head so packed with air. No river current or ocean tide could drag him deep enough that he would not float. His singular eye finds Sunstride, with whom he's recently returned from hunting, and the corner of his mouth twitches. He says all he needs to in that glance.
"Thank you for the offer," he tells Owltalon as he rises to his paws. "You are very generous with your praise. I have to ask whether the same flower given a hundred times is a sincere gift," he pauses, head tilting, "or uninspired and dull as the muddy thaw of snow." Wolfsong smiles and there's a challenge in the glint of gaze and tooth. "Your best flattery. I'd like to hear it— maybe I'm wrong and it will be more impressive than the others I've heard. Something truly worth starving for."
Firepaw wouldn't call life here lackluster, Starclan she hoped it was more lackluster it'd be nice to focus on training rather then the threat of illness and death that followed (...she still didn't know how to feel about Wisteriapaw frankly.) and the worry that another clanmate would become a traitor in their midst, but really for her selfishly her biggest worry as of late was the pit of constant hunger that hung in her gullet. She couldn't wait for leafbare to be over, for the frozen wasteland to return to the green moors she'd grown up on , she's impatient and irritable she knows she's not the only one but it doesn't change the fact she wants nothing more then for something or someone to flex her claws into. Just for the relief of working out her frustrations but she has to make do, spending her time where she wasn't roaming the territory lounging around watching her clanmates for the most part instead of actually joining them but yet she comes padding over when she hears Owltalon's strange trill of a meow - he's odd that was for sure but he didn't seem like the type to be overbearing. But before she can make her way over to humor him but her ears prick as she listens to Wolfsong's voice reply to the self obsessed tom. She truly doesn't understand exactly what he's getting at, the whole drama between the older members of the clan was beyond her and she wasn't to excited to be learning more about it in the coming moons - she can't tell if the two toms have animosity between them or if Wolfsong was poking fun and humoring Owltalon. It really doesn't matter to her, they could do their weird thing like two wierdo's did.
Flattery in particular was something she was so inept at, she did try occasionally to compliment or 'play nice' but it always fell flat she just didn't word things right she supposes.❝Why do you wanna be flattered anyway? I'm sure if you ask the Queens they'll dote on you plenty. I dunno' why you're asking him ❞ when it came to the art of flirting however Firepaw was completely and utterly lost, she didn't think she was capable of doing anything like that she had other things to accomplish she didn't need to be trying to smooze up pretty she-cats not like they'd give her the time of day anyway but regardless! Her gaze turns to Owltalon ❝Have you done anything today? Or have you just been talking?❞ she asks the tom head tilting to the side. ❝Or do you consider your err 'flattery' work?❞
( PLACE ME IN MY CASKET TONIGHT ; BECAUSE IM ALREADY DYING INSIDE )
There was chatter a few paces from where the broad-shouldered black and white tom was resting. Opening his eyes, Badgermoon rolled over and pushed himself upright. It would be better, he felt, to communicate with his Clanmates than to simply lay still, trying to ignore the growling in his gut. As he got nearer, the nature of the conversation revealed itself, and he felt a half-smile unroll on his muzzle. Ah...a little bit of buttering up, eh? It was easy to say that sweet words didn't fill hungry bellies, and indeed Badgermoon's immediate urge was to give a sharp response or a pointed roll of his eyes, but he stopped himself from immediately condemning his Clanmate. Was it truly the worst thing in the world for someone to try to bring some levity to these bitter months? Could he blame someone for using their precious energy to try to boost spirits, even if it was done in something of a self-serving manner?
He didn't think so, not really: in his heart of hearts, he mostly felt a pang of sorrow. His spirit ached at the thought of what this moment would look like in the fruitful, fragrant months of greenleaf - would others join in? Would he himself toss a few compliments towards anyone who caught his eye? With glossy coats, vibrant greenery, and fat prey, would sweet words really ever be unwelcome? The bicolor warrior reclined on his haunches next to Firepaw, stifling a little laugh at the apprentice's volley of questions. They were good ones, he thought, but he said nothing, waiting instead to see how Owltalon reacted to the challenge posed by Wolfsong and the (perhaps unintentional) challenge of Firepaw. I gotta say, I do feel cheered up. Badgermoon admitted in the safety of his own head.
It was with a bold laugh that Sunstride chased the warrior's call. Though he is not so clever with his words as those who speak up in answer — dearest Wolfsong, with his wit bared in sharpened eyes, and an apprentice, unknowingly bright in her icy response — he knows enough to judge a victor in this impromptu battle of tongues. So far, it seems that those in opposition are far past the rest. There is beauty in a strutting bird, so long as he is not the one being propositioned by such displays. Then it might border on the comical. Was this why Wolfsong has asked for it himself? Or is it why his chest begins to twist upon itself at the thought? Still he is eager to hear it. The work they have done today has left his bones with a pleasant ache, and a few more mouthfuls of prey upon the pile. Amusement would be a worthwhile distraction.
"Does one find as much delight in a hundred flowers as they do in the first? Or would it warm more hearts to give one flower to a hundred others?" These compliments, cleverly spread, might very well do more for the clan than Firepaw would think. Or they could be nothing more than an annoyance. If this one would make wheat-gold fur blush with heat, Sunstride would consider Owltalon's work more than valuable enough.
ooc: so sorry for the messy post but god i love this guy
SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
—— cis male, uses he - him. thirty-four moons old. warrior of windclan and former rogue.
—— cautious of clan life, but an apt learner. encourages close bonds between clanmates.
—— loyalty uncertain, cares for those surrounding him. undoubtedly closest to wolfsong.
sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red at its base and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him.
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