HOUSE SO EMPTY [ spiderpaw ]

[SILVERSMOKE]

The crusted cut on his cheek still stung, not from pain but from pride. The clan was going to struggle enough as it was with the near-doubling of its members, the last thing they needed on top of that was empty bellies because their Lead Warrior got bested by a bluejay. Extremely tightlipped about the incident and adamant it had just been a 'training accident', Silversmoke tried not to let his feet drag as he sent himself out again in search of a better catch. He wasn't sure whose idea it was to have one of the clan's apprentices follow him, maybe Pigeonsong, maybe another council member, all the tabby knew was that it certainly wasn't his own. Her presence made the journey more difficult, the silence like a boulder upon his back, the pressure to ensure she didn't fall victim to any lingering traps even heavier than that. A scowl lined Silversmoke's maw as he prowled along the well-worn pine paths, his face creasing slightly as he passed the spot he'd been ambushed mere days ago. No screeching banshees this time around, his limbs still tensed all the same as if expecting to hear the corvidae's call at any moment.

Maybe he should've challenged Chrysalispaw to hunt the vicious beast he could not, it would've made for a far greater warrior's assessment than the one he gave them. Briefly, he considered offering the same to the long-limbed youth, whose... difficulty had been learned in passing. He shot her a glance as he prowled past the winding tree, sides expanding as he moved away from it unscathed. "No, I don't know why you're here either, before you say anything." Silver was sure it was on both of their minds, if not, then at least he could clear up that the chaotic pairing was not of his doing. 'I swear if every unruly apprentice gets unloaded onto me I'll...' Do nothing, he'd do nothing. It was precisely his tolerance for the intolerable that put him in charge of training SkyClan's most difficult apprentice and overseeing the assessments of him and a half-kittypet. He wondered if others had spread such a rumour about him, he wondered if others would conveniently make him babysit their troublemakers for a break - he wondered if he was overthinking what was likely just a random assignment. Ears flat, the large feline lowered his head to between his shoulder blades.

"What are you good at hunting? We'll track around your skills, not mine. It'll be easier that way." Silversmoke wasn't the best hunter, but he had to be better than an apprentice.... right?


@spiderpaw


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[spiderpaw ✧]

❝ DARLIN', DARLIN' ♱°.✦ ————————————
Spiderpaw plodded alongside the scowling silver ... beast she'd been assigned to patrol with—tales of Silversmoke's coarse demeanour had reached even her currently asocial ears, and the fact that he was taller than even her lanky frame said something. Then again, he was mentoring Chrysalispaw if her memory served correctly, so she probably wasn't the absolute worst cat he'd ever met. Probably. The smoky cat winced at the thought—after her whole humiliating ordeal with Pigeonsong a few days ago, she'd promised herself she would be better. Stop standing other cats against her shadowy self-image all the time like cardboard cutouts, but clearly it wasn't working. She had to suppress a poorly timed sigh; Spiderpaw had thought that now she'd reached out and asked for help like everyone always said you should, she'd feel better. Stop being so mean. It didn't seem to be turning out that way. Her first instinct upon being assigned this task had been to say something rude to Silversmoke and take off, but Pigeonsong's puddled amber gaze in the crowd had stopped her. Barely.

Right. What was she supposed to be doing again? That frustrating fogginess was keeping its sharp-clawed dominion on her thoughts, and Spiderpaw had to make an effort to recollect what she was here for. Silversmoke's blunt words reminded her; "No, I don't know why you're here either, before you say anything." Well, that cleared it up quickly; clearly the silver cat had heard, one way or another, of her own ... difficulty. Great. In light of recent events, Spiderpaw was learning exactly how thoroughly she'd towed her own reputation through the mud; few cats seemed interested in being around her, much less chatting. Well, she might as well try to make a good impression, even if it felt exceedingly pointless.

"Uhh ..." The smoke mentally paused; what was she good at? It couldn't be nothing, right? Even if she'd skipped trainings more often than not until recently, fogged head not withstanding, she had to have some kind of skill, right? She was ... okay at hunting, she guessed, although she'd failed to catch anything last time she'd properly gone hunting with Briarpaw. Spiderpaw forced herself to think about it ... she was far from one of the serpentine shadows that stalked their home's trees as quietly as the ground, but she wasn't the worst, right? "... I'm okay at huntin' land stuff. Pretty fast, I guess."

The tone of the words had an inherent bite despite her best efforts, but they were far from the ego-drenched sentences of previous moons. Those lurked, barely unspoken, behind her maw—hair-trigger remarks, just waiting for the slightest intimation of judgement or fraying of her nerves. Although Spiderpaw didn't know that, of course, but ... she was fine at hunting, wasn't she? She had to hope so.

[penned by dejavu - ♱]

———————————— ✦.°♱ DOESN'T HAVE A PROBLEM ❞ ​

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[SILVERSMOKE]

He blinked and blinked until his eyes began to narrow, expecting an answer far sooner than he actually got one. It made sense to stall, he thought, there was intelligence in assessing one's words before speaking them, if only the explanation could quell his impatience in any other circumstance. Tufted ears swiveling forward, his gaze finally softened when Spiderpaw spoke again. "A good start," he observed, on the verge of compliment had it not been expected for Spiderpaw to be at the level already. Hunting on land was a useful skill when the trees were dangerous to be jumping around in, and briefly, he pondered letting it slip that many SkyClan mentors preferred their assessments to involve the canopy in some way. Lips pressed tightly together, he decided against it - she was a prominent gossiper, she'd be able to figure that out on her own if she talked to the right cats. "We will veer towards the Rockpiles then. More mice, less climbing." Less food too, but a few mice were far better than the nothing that was promised by committing to tree hunting. With the new plan in motion, the Lead Warrior breathed in the strong forest air before making a beeline to the eastern parts of the territory.

Smalltalk: the bane of all introverts. It was a blessing and a curse that Silversmoke found silence in a pair a more awkward thing than conversation, it was times like this where he wished he was better at initiating a discussion though. Knowing how judgemental Spiderpaw was, he could only imagine what she would think of his attempts to pass the time - Chrysalispaw had given him thick enough skin to steel himself for whatever would come next out of the smoke's mouth. "How is Pigeonsong as a mentor?" He asked, only looking to the horizon as he spoke. His first true experience with the other had been when an argument with Slate had attracted a dog that beelined for the poor warrior, it was quite the first impression to make and he hadn't felt comfortable talking to him since. "Sorry I almost got you killed" were important words to say in a situation like that, but ones so difficult he found it easier to avoid them. He was sure Pigeonsong would've confronted him by now if there were hard feelings... probably. "Do you feel as if he's teaching you well?"
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[spiderpaw ✧]

Spiderpaw sighs, nods, and dutifully turned her leaden paws in the direction of the Rockpile, trailing after Silversmoke. She'd hunted at the Rockpiles a couple times of her own volition, somewhat more languidly than this seemed likely to be given the big cat's ... stoic ... demeanour. She wondered absently whether he'd always been like this or having to mentor Chrysalispaw had hardened him to normal social behaviors. Not that she should really be throwing stones in that category, she supposed.

Why did he keep trying to talk to her? Spiderpaw gritted her teeth as annoyance flared up inside her, trying to remember what she'd talked to Pigeonsong about. She wasn't being mean anymore. Her reply still came out with a certain bite to it, "He's fine." The smoke scrambled for a better reply. Stars, this was awkward. Silversmoke was a lead warrior, and you'd think he'd be a better socializer, she supposed, but you would be wrong. "Uh, he's ... he's a good mentor. Not fine. He's, um. He's training me fine."

Without the instant, natural choice of brusque words and acid tones, Spiderpaw finds herself having to scramble for what to say. What do you say about your thoughts when you're not even sure what you think? This feels horribly awkward, and she almost hopes they reach the Rockpile quickly so it'll end. Or at least so the temptation to just go back to old favorites of cruelty ceases.
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