I’m your Anthem [ Foxy ]

✵ ღ ☾ IT TOOK ME BY SURPRISE - tap tap tap.
An ivory paw shuffles against the ground impatiently as she waits outside of camp. What is taking her so long?
Lately, Azalea cannot help but feel as though karma has been catching up to her. Severed from her family at the sake of her own happiness, only to be immediately met with the two cats who were the last ones she wanted to see.
Now? Now she was waiting outside of camp for one of them. Assigned to collect materials for camp- together.
Finally the calico appears, a joyful glimmer in her gaze as if she had been having a perfectly good day, and then she meets Azaleas.
Almost instantly, it turns cold, and in turn Azzie’s narrows. If the kid wanted to hold a grudge after sneaking out of camp scaring off her prey a moon ago, so be it- why should Azalea be so concerned?
Why am I so concerned?
Metaphorically turning her nose up to the thought, she rolls her eyes, tearing her gaze from Foxy’s glower. ❝ Come on, don’t want to waste your first legal outing out of camp admiring me all day, do you? ❞ She sneers, turning her back to the girl with a flick of her feathery tail but a concealed smirk on her maw, that was a good one.
❝ Speech. ❞
Fate is cruel. Fox had thought herself to be the only one to split from her family and find her own path, but Azalea just had to have the same idea. The calico pushes through the reeds, the rare cheer she's managed to hold onto extinguishing as amber eyes meet blue.

Her smile dies like a flower gripped by frost. Azalea towers over her and gives her a look a Clan leader might give an ant. "Don't want to waste your first legal outing out of camp admiring me all day, do you?"

Her flesh beneath her thick calico fur grows hot. Admiring her! What nerve! She snaps her gaze away, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest. "As if I wouldn't rather stare at swamp mud," she mumbles, her ginger tail curling inwards. "Whatever. Lead the way, since you know everything already." Her tone is sullen, like a thoroughly scolded child.

Why does Azalea always make me feel like such a kit? She's barely older than me... She clenches her jaw as she trails behind the silvery banner of the other femme's tail. Cicadastar is cruel to force the two of them on any sort of expedition together. Can't he see how much Fox hates her?


✵ ღ ☾ IT TOOK ME BY SURPRISE - If one was listening close enough, they could hear the soft scoff under Azaleas breath at Foxy’s words.
I do know everything.
She only walks a fox length or two before tossing her head over her shoulder, narrow azure optics searching to find Foxy’s sun-warmed, ❝ I’m not walking that fast- can you catch up? ❞ She asks, though her tone is sharp, she keeps hostility out of it, refusing to stoop to that childish level- well, for the most part at least, and if Foxy was so hell-bent on acting like a pitiful kid… no, Azalea would throw her a bone. Subtly slowing her pace until Foxy was almost at her side she would keep her gaze straight. ❝ Why do you hate me so much, anyways? You’re the one who scared my prey away ❞ she finally asked, her tone accusatory, though she still refused to look directly at Foxy. ❝ Childish grudges will get you no where. ❞ She added with a small hmph as she leaped over a rock with ease, landing on a jutted out edge with a prickle on her paw pads, not forgetting the task at hand as she scanned the small portion of land before the two.
❝ Speech. ❞
The calico's fur begins to prickle at Azalea's words. "Of course I can catch up," she says, though she attempts to keep the malice out of her own voice. Her legs are considerably shorter than the tabby's, and her step is noticeably slower, but Fox is determined to show her she isn't lesser. Not because of her age, not because of anything.

She's distracted by her exertion, to the point that Azalea's next question causes her to stumble -- only slightly, and she wants to swear, hoping it wasn't noticeable. "Hate you?" She echoes, as if she's never heard the words before.

Hate. Fox doesn't hate anyone, does she?

Except for the monster that killed Dewdrop.

But she can't say that.

The young she-cat glares at Azalea's feathery tail as she leaps over a stone, lands gracefully. Fox comes to a pause before the same gap, her expression as troubled as her mind.

You can do this, Foxy, her inner voice goads. It's that soft, leather-worn voice of her mother again, telling her to stop worrying over nothing. Don't think. Just do it.

Under any other circumstances, Fox would have gone home. But she bunches her muscles, and in a flash of tricolored fur, her paws just barely meet the edge of the rock. One of her paw pads bangs painfully against the sharp lip, but otherwise, she's safe -- and she's found an answer. At least, partially.

"I don't hate you." She swallows, trying to hide how hard she's breathing. "I don't... I don't even think about you at all. Ever."

With a pointed glare, Fox steps beside Azalea to survey the land she's gazing at. Her heart is still pounding, and her skin burns, but she made it, and she is still going to stick to her guns.


✵ ღ ☾ IT TOOK ME BY SURPRISE - As Fox would jump, Azalea would extend her tail behind the molly, though subtle enough for the calico not to notice, she didn’t want her to fall and break something.
Once Fox would be on stable paws once more, Azalea would retract her safety net, instead letting it curl upwards as she listening to Fox’s response.
I don’t think about you, at all. Ever.
The firm words spark a challenge in Azalea.
A side smirk would blossom on her lips, a small roll of her narrow gaze.
❝ Never, huh? ❞ She finally chimes after an intentionally silent moment, her gaze settling on Fox. ❝ I find that hard to believe ❞ she hums, leaning in ever so slightly closer, her paws steady on the uneven rock.
She wants to see how far she can push under the calico’s skin, her intense gaze trained on Fox for just a moment longer, letting her words linger with a small grin, which was now repositioned to the front of her maw, her lips parted just enough to reveal her ivory fangs. She’d flick a silvery ear, ❝ your hearts racing pretty fast hun, and I bet it’s not because of the jump. ❞
Azalea knows what she is doing, her tone is perfectly calculated, her gaze is lingering just long enough before she withdraws, straightening herself, ❝ but, if you say so ❞ she then states, her tone quickly shifting to something curt before she leaps from the ledge, landing on the grassy ground with a quiet thump.
❝ Hey, look- moss, help me gather it. ❞
❝ Speech. ❞

  • Haha
Reactions: Marquette
Fox's head is held high, her eyes blazing with determination as she plants herself firmly beside Azalea, but her short-lived confidence withers at the silver femme's mocking tone.

"Never, huh? I find that hard to believe." Fox is entirely unprepared for Azalea to lean forward, close the gap between them with feathery softness. Water-blue eyes burn into amber.

Azalea is close enough to hear Fox's heartbeat, and she does, which causes the calico's flesh to burn beneath her fur. She's terribly conscious of the staccato drum behind her chest, echoing accusingly in her ears. "Your heart's racing pretty fast, hun, and I bet it's not because of the jump."

Fox's jaws part, but only a soft, whispered, "It... it's..." The rest dies in the air.

Azalea gives her a knowing, smug look before pulling away from her. Fox is stung, battered, beaten to a pulp without even being touched, and she almost keels over. She's almost faint with fury and embarrassment -- and something else, but she doesn't know what the other thing is. Only that she's on fire from her skin to her tail, and only that she wishes she could dunk herself in the river and stalk away.

Moss. Right. Was that what they were here for?

Fox gives Azalea a murderous look before stomping close to her. "I can't wait to get back to camp. Let's hurry up." She makes a concentrated effort to avoid that blue gaze as she uses careful claws to scrape moss from wood.