private Honey comb | Snailstride

[Firefang]

The last time she'd really talked to Snailstride one on one was when they were both still apprentices; on the morrow of Dandelion and the traitors violent exodus from Windclan. What Snailstride had said that night had led her to make a confessio in their stead, she wants to think it was what has kept them here what has resigned them finally to the way of a warrior. If she hadn't spoken up would he have ever heard his own warrior ceremony? Would he even still be in Windclan - she wants to think he would've ran away without the intervention of Sootstar and the guidance of his now late mentor.

She did the right thing. She did the right thing... She was rewarded for it, had proven herself loyal and had earned the right to be a warrior not long after. She didn't regret it. Still she's not entirely ignorant of how little time they spend together, always out of necessity whatever relationship they had as apprentices had withered and she pretended she didn't care - that she didn't notice. She was a busy cat after all it wasn't like she had time for them anyway... But she did back then. They're suffering lately, they'd lost the mentor who'd turned them into a half-decent warrior she doesn't doubt his death rattled them more then it did her. Starclan did it shake her, it shook all of them. Her fur still smells of rain and mud, she hasn't groomed herself properly since running out into the storm in search of murderers who were long gone.

She breaks the unsaid boundary her and Snailstride had set silently, she approaches them alone there is no crowd she can sink into there is no way they can avoid her gaze. They wouldn't be able to avoid the malformed pity that glints in her eyes. She'd always looked down on them even when they were "closer" that didn't change even if she could claim she respected them now; but evidently not enough to know better. ❝How're you holdin' up?❞ she asks and it's as genuine as it is awkward she shifts uncomfortably.
@SNAILSTRIDE ​

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[SNAILSTRIDE]

Tigerfrost's death was the second time they'd ever been hurt, truly hurt, and it was still so fresh that all they could remember about the Lead Warrior was how they looked when they died. They didn't care for revenge on the long-gone rogues, they just wanted their ex-mentor back. That was one of the reasons they hadn't worked hard searching. The second reason was that they felt ill. Snailstride had never gotten greencough or a stomach issue but they imagined their sickness to be worse for it was a sickness brought about by the mind. The more they thought about Tigerfrost the worst it got, the less they thought about him the guiltier they felt for abandoning their legacy so quickly - it was a vicious cycle and so soon into it, Snailstride had no clue when it would end. The third reason was more complicated, defiance that had managed to survive betrayal and re-education. WindClan valued strong warriors, did they not? Then how come a rat could sneak its way into their ranks so easily? They noticed Firefang walking towards them and time slowed.

There was something primal as he stared at the younger Warrior, something they'd only felt once or twice before. Apathy for the negativity of those around them had been a sound method of dealing with it, but when that negativity threatened their life, it was a lot harder to ignore. They realised they hated her. Claws out and back arching as they sat, Snailstride cast a glance behind themselves and grimaced as they were met with an earthy wall. A lifetime ago, they'd have buried themself into it and hoped they could endure the soil long enough for the she-cat to leave them alone, now, the stakes seemed higher. Flashes of Tigerfrost's desecrated body danced across their vision and beyond the rogues, they felt the blame shift onto Firefang. "Y'know, it's funny how you think that's any of your business." A shame that Firefang wasn't a good comedian, not that the tabby was in the mood for a laugh regardless. They wanted to be left alone, to curl up into a ball and try to sleep no matter how difficult it was. Mud still caked their fur that they didn't care to wash off and a defensive tail concealed their forepaws and clung to their body for dear life. Who knew what else this rat could take?

"Go away."



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[Firefang]

Her concern isn't wanted - she isn't wanted she could chuck it to his grief talking could even fathom the idea that even before this he wouldn't have wanted to talk. She could maturely understand she isn't wanted and listen to him and walk away but Firefang has never been mature. Surprise flickers across her features, offense to his gall always taking supremacy over her sympathies - didn't he realize who he was talking to. She doesn't leave them alone, not anymore that peace had broken today and she's always been relentless and stubborn when it comes to getting something she wants. She just doesn't know what it is. Was it his answer, the right to rub salt in his wounds, or was it something so fragile that moons ago she'd shattered it into a million pieces then tried to step over them like their sharp ends wouldn't cut her paws. Her muzzle crinkles up ❝Funny how you think you can talk to me like that❞ her voice is harsh as sharp as any other barb she's hissed at any enemy her fur prickles. They wouldn't have had him as a mentor without her, Starclan couldn't they see that?

❝what's your problem!?❞ she snaps stepping closer so her eyes bare down at them; so her face stands right in front of theirs so they cannot ignore her cannot sink into the earth and wait for the tornado to pass overhead. This had been a long time coming and it wouldn't be over swiftly. ​

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[SNAILSTRIDE]

Just like that, the nice act was over. Snailstride's brows momentarily raised at the shift in personality before knitting together, their heart racing as they stood sideways to the other warrior. She spoke aggressively, as if they were not on equal grounds, as if they were some apprentice ready to sleep the day away and not be bothered by the outside world. Now, they were a warrior ready to sleep the day away and not be bothered by the outside world, just cleverer about it. Firefang expected them to simper under the pressure, for everything to be the way it was before being threatened by the council and betrayed by their friend. The realisation made a sharp chuckle escape them, not cruel, not kind, only shallow. "Haha wow you're like, super delusional." He remarked dryly. The few who knew of Firefang's actions were disgusted by them, their support ignited self-worth in the classic tabby missing for moons - they didn't have to put up with being pushed around. If Tigerfrost had left any legacy, it was in Snailstride's newly found confidence.

Ears flatten as she storms closer, a paw tentatively raising and preparing to strike if she invaded their personal space. If anyone's blood had to haunt their vision, they'd rather it be Firefang's than Tigerfrost's, even if they were doubtful one would cancel out the other. He had no clue had the clan would react to their sycophant getting attacked, with horror and hatred they imagined, but not even the consequences of such a thing would allow them to tolerate the tabby pushing them around anymore. They squinted for a moment, the light catching in such a way that caused their consistent headache to flare, but they did their best to ignore it. The worst thing that could happen to them was falling asleep during an argument as long overdue as this one. Tail bushy as they threw it into the air, Snailstride rose to their full height and then some, flank pressed against the wall like they were a cornered animal. "You are the problem, fox-heart. You tried to get me killed for a promotion, why would I ever want to speak to you again?" He owed her nothing. Not gratitude for acquainting them to Tigerfrost, not for being an 'intervention' when they never needed one, not for checking on them when Snailstride knew that she wasn't sincere about it.



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