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[Frostbite]

He does not like the habit his mind has gotten into of being gifted with a time of relative peace only to wonder when it will be shattered. Such is what he feels today. What will happen next? Who will turn up dead, who will be attacked. Will Granitepelt or Siltcloud rear their ugly heads soon? Siltcloud seems to have disappeared, and it relieves and angers him at the same time. She had gotten what she wanted, blood and murder, and seems to be content now. This angers Frostbite more than he realizes. For too long has Shadowclan been picked at like carrion by its enemies, feline or otherwise. He wishes some rogue would cross the border in his presence so he can make an example of them to the rest of the filth that seeks to kick Shadowclan while its down.

His bloodlust and thirst for revenge have not been sated, and they wont be until those two are dead.

But now isn't the time to go on a warpath. His clan needs support, and he is going to give it. Wounds on the heart are painful and they sometimes never heal, and he can't imagine what Betonyfrost must have felt when she saw Comfreypaw die before her. It's something he's terrified that he too will someday experience. Her cries at Comfreypaw's vigil will stick with him for as long as he lives. Which brings him to now, as his gaze drifts and catches sight of Betonyfrosts silver coat.

Approaching Betonyfrost on quiet steps, he offers her a soft smile. "Betonyfrost." He greets her. "How have you been, lately? Have you eaten yet?" He asks.

(( @betonyfrost ))​

 

[betonyfrost]

Suspicion comes easily to Betonyfrost. Her wilted ears twist towards Frostbite before her head turns to follow, eyes already narrowed. His questions are worried—Betonyfrost wants to bask in the care offered as much as she wishes for some kind of normalcy—and they cut her deep, somehow. Any honest response to how Betonyfrost has been would be taken as deflection; her truth is scathing. It has been, for some time now.

“Haven’t we already passed the point in my grief that you need to pretend to care for me?” Betonyfrost answers around her teeth. She doesn’t regret her words; they leave a satisfying burn in her throat, “If you are asking for some ill-begotten obligation or to mock me, I’m not in the mood.” She starts to turn away—stops before the motion is halfway complete, and flicks her attention back over Frostbite, “Why do you ask?”​

shadowclan warrior | blue mackerel tabby | 28 moons | tags​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

He'd say – he'd think that he was ShadowClans biggest critic. It's a not a title that he wanted to hold, but one that he thinks he should, for the benefit of everyone else. For the benefit of those who might be scratching at the walls, fearing the likes of WindClan of Granitepelt; fearing just how much worse it could get, if any cat had qualms on a worse level then theirs.

...It could be that was something only he thought about. But it also might not be, and he would inform those few that wondered with him that it merely formed a perfect circle. She thinks she hated too much to become nothing but a mindless killer; to maim, to attack, to kill, to leave. She would watch this wound fester, and maybe with the intent of a mad scientist, was intent to not interfere. She was stuck here until the end, itently staring every open, bleeding wound Chilledstar might haphazardly slap moss atop of.

All that, is a dramatic way to articulate that Betonyfrost pisses her off. Not every word was something deeper; a personal jab thought out for moons before they took that chance to walk up to you and say hello. Well – sometimes it was, and maybe Betonyfrost knew that it would be, because of how terrible she was. But — well. Acknlowedging that bothered the rest of them. Can't she just suck it up?

(Who was she talking to, herself?)

Sharpshadow glances sideward, as if to catch the judgmental shaded beast lurking nearby, only to make him a little bit more unhapppy.

Had they not all agreed to get it together? To be... kind and functional, or whatever? It was a conversation Betonyfrost had been absent from. Perhaps that was for the better, so the trashy bits of something inspiring Chilledstar had tried to scrape together couldn't be picked clean. " Holy shit, " Sharpshadow suddenly finds himself speaking, pivotting toward Betonyfrost with uneven quills alight. " I missed the part where Frostbite said: "I hope a fox will come make dirt in your nest tomorrow. " Can't you – ? Like.... Can't you –? " His immaturity shows with stumbling words, but he tries to do what he was told to do... speak up. Cats liked that, sometimes. " If he's pretending, why don't you... pretend right back? " That's what he did.

But... he wasn't. He wasn't like her. In his attempt to resolve the wound... he probably just tore it open further. ...He couldn't be expected to do everything.

with myself i must play in this game of charades ( ♱ ) cause there's no one to speak to

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  SHARPSHADOW: he / she , no pref , dislikes gender neutral language ; fine with gendered terms ; 19 moons old as of 2.2.24
  

  dark smoke feline that stands at an above average height. Easily identifiable by her namesake – an unruly mat of fur, destined to be cluttered by inconsistencies between chimera halves. Burdened with a broken tail, often lying dead behind her in the dirt.

  Anxious, antisocial, paranoid. Sharpshadow has not known peace for a single time in his life, and lives anticipating inevitable dangers to the detriment of herself and others.
  heavy ic opinions! he's irrational and mean </3

​

 

[FORESTSHADE]

Forestshade hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. Her sensitive ears are simply always turning and twisting, picking up every detail they could about the world around her as she goes about her day. She carries a scrawny bird now to the fresh-kill pile, walking straight past the group, when her head turns towards the sharp words being thrown. She pauses, stifling a chuckle at Sharpshadow’s retort. It was pretty funny, but it probably wouldn’t do to laugh while Betonyfrost is already so riled up.

“Have you ever known Frostbite to lie anyway?” She points out casually, a careless shrug in her shoulders. “The guy’s too nice all the time, come on.” She flicks the lead warrior with her tail good-naturedly and paws at the snipe that now lays at her paws. She sticks around for a moment, admittedly wanting to know why Betonyfrost has got her tail all in a twist at Frostbite of all cats.​

 

[Magpiepaw]

—————————————————————⊰♰⊱————————————————————

Frostbite was a cat so kind he often wondered if the tom had ulterior motives but in his time knowing him from his kithood and onward the lead warrior had been nothing but sincere in his mannerisms and truly only wished the best for the clan. It was painful to watch at times, the paw that fed bit so vehemently by those who would rather wallow in their own putrid despair than rise up to help push them from the shadows proper. He had once thought Smogmaw was of the same sort but had grown much more comfortable lately with the ususally dour deputy and found his presence a lot more tolerable and lighter than before; his grief had cut deeper, whereas Betonyfrost had only seemed to care when the last grain of sand spilled from the hourglass into the bottom. Repenting before take took you, took them, it was audacious at the worst and blapshemous at its best.

Magpiepaw comes to a stop alongside Sharpshadow, his head nodding with a light tilt in greeting and also to catch himself by leaning into her side as he lost his balance briefly.
"Betonyfrost if you are disgruntled because you are ill then please feel free to come to the den for things to put in your mouth to help you. If you are not ill I still recommend shoving something in there as a precaution." A pinecone, perhaps. He was adamant that pinecones could solve many problems, the least of which was a cat he'd mourn over the same way one might remiss not eating a particular piece of prey before someone else did. He thinks of Comfreypaw briefly, sweet and awkwardly endearing in a way that surely had to have come from someone other than her mother; StarClan was perhaps a mercy, not that the sting of her loss settled despite that.
Forestshade is far more gracious in her remarks and he can't help but wonder if it came from the same spindle of thread, a kinship with the disinterested - mother's who were far more self-serving than they ought to be.

————— ⸸ looks like the stars won't shine much longer ———— ⸸ so give me your hand

• OOC can go here.
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  Magpiepaw
  —⊰⋅ MCA of ShadowClan
  —⊰⋅ He/They
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ Black tom w/a white throat and blue-violet eyes.
  —⊰⋅ Has mild cerebellar hypoplasia (Wobbly cat syndrome)
  
  

​

 

[Frostbite]

Frostbite blinks slowly at Betonyfrost. Holy shit. All he did was ask how she was doing and now she's mad at him and- Why. Why is she like this? What goes on in that brain of hers? He keeps himself from cuffing her ears as a reflex and decides a calm response is the better option.

"Everyone calm down," He speaks calmly to those who have gathered in his defense. The last thing he wants to happen is an explosive argument, even if he appreciates them.

"What would I have to gain by being rude to you?" He asks. "I decided to check on you because I know how much it hurts to lose someone dear to you, and I know that grief can last a very long time. You are an incredibly frustrating and prickly cat, but you still deserve support and comfort." He continues. "I'm here because I want to be, not because I have to be."

What ulterior motives does she think he has? Does she really think he's here to mock her? It almost upsets him that she would think he would stoop so low as to mock her with her grief. He'd never do such a thing. ​

 

[betonyfrost]

Betonyfrost had dared to spit on the proverbial ground where Frostbite steps, and the reaction is immediate. It is all so terribly typical that Betonyfrost isn’t surprised—just pretend, isn’t Frostbite so kind? just shut up—and a true anger sparks to life in Betonyfrost. Her eyes flick between those gathered, starving for a target and unsure of who to choose.

“Oh, forgive me for being tetchy,” She barks to the world instead, “You’d jump in defense of a snapped twig if it was me who tread on it!”

Because it never was that they liked Frostbite—rather, it was because they disliked Betonyfrost. He’s easy to hate in this moment. Betonyfrost hadn’t been doing anything before he had approached her, and now she was the one in the muck. She's ready to round on him next but before she can, Frostbite is turning to her. Suddenly, she doesn't need to swallow down her anger; the raw sincerity in Frostbite's voice dewinds her.

"You really mean that," Betonyfrost murmurs, when he's stopped. She wishes he would be angry with her—she wouldn't feel so foolish, then. Betonyfrost stands like she is expecting a coming blow, despite that. It still reeks like a concealed obligation, but Frostbite has seemingly tricked himself into thinking otherwise, "If it's what you want, we could share a meal at a later time. There are too many vultures about, right now."​

shadowclan warrior | blue mackerel tabby | 28 moons | tags​