I DON'T CALL ENOUGH + halfshade

[smogstar]

The rain since diminished to a light drizzle, but the downpour earlier on in the day had converted the ground inside camp to a murky, muddy mire. Smogmaw realised this - much to his dismay - as he returned to the heart of Shadowclan's territory. It looked as though the earth would swallow his paws whole if he dared to walk across it. Already his pelt was sopping wet, having been on the prowl for prey when he found himself caught in the brief rainstorm. The last thing he wanted right now was to further ruin his fur, and yet that seemed unavoidable.

Beneath his chestnut eyes and jaded expression, he carried a swamp rabbit in his maw. It had to be the largest creature he had ever seen in Shadowclan's territory - this must have been the first time that he'd caught something too large to eat on his own, and he was eager to show off his catch to his compatriots.

He would sigh in exasperation if it weren't for the rabbit in the way. Smogmaw really did not want to get muck stuck between his pawpads. But if he didn't make his way across camp, he couldn't blow his own horn in front of his clanmates over his own accomplishments. A dilemma.

* * *

He drops his catch to the ground as soon as he reaches the warrior's den. "Look't what I've got," he says in a haughty tone of voice, his paws absolutely fucking covered in shit and grime. His eyes wander to the first clanmate to catch his eye, which happened to be @Halfshade. "Want to share this?" asked Smogmaw through an enraptured smile. His tone sounded credulous enough, but his gaze was something else; this wasn't the first time that the alluring she-cat had stood out to him.

He gestures to the den's exit with a flick of his noggin. If she were interested, they could find somewhere to split the creature - preferably somewhere outside of camp, where the ground felt a bit more solid.​

[ AND THE BASTARD WALKS BY ]​

 

[Halfshade]

She adored the rain, crisp and cleansing as it was at times but like her it held a different presence depending on mood. Often it was a fair drizzle, a faint dampening of the land and other times it was a torrential downpour that threatened to sweep the entire clan away in its ruthlessness. The torbie queen had attempted to go out, but she'd quickly lost her focus in how heavy the rain had been and wandered back to camp to dry; naturally it lessened once she'd finished grooming, just her luck that she called it so early but now she felt alarmingly unmotivated to try again on her own. She might be able to bully Frostbite or Scorchfrost into accompanying her out again but for now she set to her newly decided task of redoing her nesting area since she'd yet to change the bedding once upon joining ShadowClan. She was overdue for more comfort and her grooming session has he shedding bits and tufts of long white hair laced with orange and pale blue that she was adding into the bracken bedding; making it clear it was hers but also softening it with down. The benefits of long fur and the downsides; her coat was thickening for the coming leaf-bare and already she felt it itch. Bothersome.

The question spoken had her looking up with a nonchalant tilt of her head, taking in the sight of the grime slick across the mouth of the den, pooling beneath silver paws. "Have you become a RiverClanner, Smoggy?" She teased, voice light and airy and a laugh ringing bell-like as she regarded the partially drenched tom with mud-ladden paws, "It's slowed down but it was dreadful before, I hope you weren't drowned in it."
Halfshade blinked slowly, burnt umber and icy depths disappearing and reappearing; finally noticing the rabbit dropped after a quiet moment and her teeth flash in a smile of admiration. She'd never seen a swamp hare that size, frankly she'd never even caught one of the smaller ones herself. Poor luck perhaps or otherwise, but she'd never come across them frequently enough to practice hunting the quick-footed creatures and she was so unaccustomed to giving chase to prey on the loamy earth. Where she came from she had solid stone, unaturally smooth underpaw to keep her balanced but in the marshland she was adjusting to the more difficult terrain gradually.
"But I would love to share with you!" She rose to stand, a brief shake to rid her of any of the moss and material she'd been working with before she danced forward on light steps, "How sweet of you to offer! My own hunting went poorly, the rain washed me away~"



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[smogstar]

Smogmaw takes on an aloof grin when the bicoloured she-cat addresses him, specifically with regards to the little nickname. Smoggy. He generally loathes being referred to by anything other than his given name. Yet, he finds it endearing when Halfshade did such. A flick of his tail and a brief bow of his head came when she rose to all fours, and the tom gave her a cordial gaze. "I'm not changing my allegiances any time soon," he remarks, adding to the jest she had previously made. "I'm more than satisfied being right here."

Halfshade assents to his offer, and his goofy smile becomes passably authentic. "Happy to hear it," he replies, in a tone that is curiously welcoming from him. The tom lowers his head and retrieves his catch as she steps forward, picking it up and gesturing once more to the den's entrance. Optimistically, the two would share a nice bite, have a chat, maybe bond a little, and then part ways. Realistically, however, he had just barged into the warrior's den armed with a sizable meal - and seeing how everybody in Shadowclan happened to be malnourished to some extent, it's possible that some desperate stragglers will tag along and seek charity.

Smogmaw would deal with them should that be the case.

He departs the den, sure that Halfshade accompanied him. Treading across the camp's mucky surface towards one of the camp's exits, he keeps his eyes peeled for a rare patch of grass amongst the soaked soil. When he inevitably comes across an ideal spot, which isn't too far out of camp, he lays the rabbit down and sits beside it.

"Have you had rabbit before?" he asks, glancing up at his companion. "It's exponentially more filling than anything else in this territory." Which is why it's a damn shame these things were so difficult to come across. For the time being, he refrains from sinking his teeth in, instead offering Halfshade the first bite.

She's graceful, tasteful, and quite pretty.

He's neurotic and tooled up with a sick sense of humour.

Smogmaw foresaw an interesting interaction ahead of him.​

[ AND THE BASTARD WALKS BY ]​

 

[Halfshade]

"Well good to hear as well! It'd be terrible having to beat you up during a border dispute!" Could she take the silver tom in a fight? That was neither here nor there for now. The dual-toned molly had not had any reason to fight since joining ShadowClan, she had joined well after the great battle that established their existence and borders and so far there had been no skirmish available to test her mettle in once more, but she didn't seem to shy away from the idea.

Halfshade gives a half step and a hop to exit the warrior’s den, not wanting to disturb any nests on her path out, the bicolor queen’s tail raises high in a neat arc over her back to avoid dragging it through the mucky depths that their camp had become with the constant rain. Her paws were not quite so fortunate, but she didn’t seem to mind it. Each step was delivered with a high lift and sharp plop back down to avoid too much splashing; looking very comical as she seemingly danced along behind Smogmaw with a cheerful sway. Arriving at the clean patch of unmuddied grass was like an oasis in the desert, free from the rough terrain and a neat little place to settle down for a moment and she does so eagerly; paws folding under her and body wriggling down in place for a comfortably lounge or as her old loner friends often referred to it as 'the loaf'. Whatever that was, she'd never really asked!

“Rabbit? No, I’ve never had it! It’s been on the pile before a few times though I’ve left it for something more my size~” Mostly, she’d been learning to hunt here still and so most of her own caught prey ended up being frogs or lizards, the occasional mouse and vole if she happened across them. Halfshade wasn’t very picky, she’d never had a sensitive palette or interest in refinement; she’d eaten worse in the two-leg place than she did in ShadowClan which was saying a lot because her status there had given her much better food than others.
Mismatched eyes widened at the question as she turned, the polite gesture encouraging her to have the first bite was met with a flash of pearly white teeth in a genuinely enthusiastic smile. "Quite the gentleman~! Thank you!" She extends a paw to hold the hare in place, neatly bows her head down, neck craning like a swan, and takes a bite from the soft tear at the side where she assumes Smogmaw's own teeth or claws had been previously to end the rabbit's frantic escape. When she leans back it is with the stretchy strip of sinew pulled tight from the carcass and a delighted laugh as tongue swipes around her maw and she quickly chews. It was certainly leagues above a mere frog in texture at the very least; very rich. Probably one of the more rich things she'd eaten as of late.
"It's a shame we can't catch these very often! I could just eat rabbit if given the choice really.."


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[smogstar]

Gentleman.

Halfshade's choice of words is honey-sweet to his ears. Coupled with her buoyant cadence, the dichromatic torbie completely enraptures his ego by this point. Call it a soft spot, a vulnerability, et cetera; whenever Smogmaw rubbed shoulders with someone who wasn't immediately repulsed by his convictions or personal conduct, he took a liking to them right away. The smile she gives him is returned from his end, albeit for once, it isn't a contrived expression. It comes naturally, and it remains fastened to his jaw as he watches her chow down on his catch.

For but a passing moment, the tom feels at ease, unlearning the anxieties and troubles he had with day-to-day actuality.

He comes to his senses when it's his turn to both speak and eat. "You don't say," the mackerel tabby remarks in agreement, skimming over the chewed-up rabbit with apathetic eyes. That thing would be in so much pain if it were still alive, heh. "Sometimes, I think the rats in carrionplace eat better than we do," he continues, before dipping his maw to the kill and helping himself. Pearly off-whites embed themselves in the lukewarm tissue, tearing out a decent chunk of leg meat. It's chewy, sinewy, and as difficult as it is to work down, he feels peculiarly filled-up.

Smogmaw finishes his bite, and lets out a hearty exhale. He looks to his companion, gaze lingering on her features for a second, before he realises it's his turn to move the conversation forward. "Mmmm... have you always lived in the marsh, Halfshade?" asks the tom, head slightly askew. Not too personal a question, but not too vague either. "I mean- in my case, I've called this place my home since before it was a clan." Back then, it had been a group instead. He guesses the only real difference between then and now is the rules they followed, and the borders everybody lived within.

Faces came and went like the sun and moon. Although he recalls having lived alongside the queen for quite a while, he cannot exactly pinpoint his first memory of her.

He motions towards the rabbit, eager to hear what Halfshade had for an answer.​

[ AND THE BASTARD WALKS BY ]​

 

[Halfshade]

"Possibly. Rats do not dwell in the cages we have assigned ourselves~" The vermin came and went as it pleased yet they were restricted to this section alone, this slice of the woods in the ground so soft it threatened to swallow one up with each step. She imagined they could scurry to places cats could not reach as well, they were an odd creature. Filled themselves with plague and grime and in turn filled the cats who ate them with the taint as well. She'd rather starve than try her paw at gnawing upon the vermin, if she was that hungry then death would be swifted at her own paws than the sickness those creatures spread.

'Have you always lived in the marsh-' She found her gaze immediately shifting to the side, drifting subconciously off in the direction she knew two-leg place to be and a wry smile curled at her lips. Her whiskers quivered, trepidation, maybe it was still too soon to talk about it all and she felt the soreness like a spike through the chest; it lingered and its blood trail seemed endless, like it would follow her forever. Perhaps a little truth then, the easy to digest truth, she did worry that the full story of her trek into the marshlands would leave cats viewing her in an unpleasant light despite her unique circumstances.
"So this is your clan technically?" She asked with a chiming laugh, her plume of a tail curling tight to her side at the joke; she warranted Pitchstar would find it less funny than she did, poor man. He would have taken it as a challenge to his right as leader, they really ought to have a sit down with some cat who knew how minds worked to sort him out but frankly it was none of her business and not her job; she'd like to avoid private chats with the mad hatter. Oh Alice, you have tumbled down a long hole now haven't you? In muck and grime, paws dirtied and become the queen of hearts.
"Me? No-no, I lived with a group of cats in two-leg place for a while!" Her kingdom, framed in light and surrounded by great stone monoliths, where the despaired and dejected all crawled to bid favor and acceptance and she had welcomed them wholeheartedly. "There was a bit of fighting that broke it up, so I came here to get away from all the fuss~" He had been a cruel king, cruel to their people and cruel to her and when she finally stood against him he acted like the beast he preached would devour their subjects should they step out of line; a self-fulfilling prophecy.
"I do detest fighting if I can avoid it." His neck had been iron rich when she sunk her blades into his throat, the mines were filled with glistening red gems and she scattered them among the others as tokens of her favor before withdrawing into the shroud of bent and crooked trees, soft and loamy earth. She'd kill him again without hesitation.



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[smogstar]

The tabby's line of vision trails after her own, coasting off into the wilderness so as to glimpse whatever she saw. It's only when he cannot spot anything in particular that he realises his question isn't as casual for her as it was for him, so to speak. For a brief moment he regrets putting the query forward, and begins piecing together an apology to voice in its stead. But the torbie queen rebounds with a sarcastic quip, one which catches him off guard and prompts a flabbergasted snort.

"Heh, some day," responds Smogmaw, flashing his companion a coy smile. It's an electrifying idea, having such autocratic power at his very toebeans. It isn't too far out of line, either. With a bit of luck, patience, and strategy, he'd climb up the ranks and lay the foundations for his reign as Smogstar. It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Smogstar. Rolls right off the tongue.

He returns to the moment when Halfshade begins going into detail about her background. His eyes remain glued to hers as she divulges the whole story, nodding along slowly. There must be more to it, he figures, as a little bit of fighting struck him as insignificant grounds for breaking up her former living situation. But that doesn't matter.

Dropping his mouth to the meal they shared, the tom chomps down on a leg and yanks his noggin back hard. The limb tears free, and it falls to the ground before his paws. "Now that I think of it, you do have the hallmarks of a twolegplace cat," muses Smogmaw, playfully flicking his brows. "You're good-natured, gentle... n' pleasing on the eyes." His grin remains affixed to his face as he digs in. ​

 

[Halfshade]

"Well, when you do become leader don't forget us little cats~" Unknowingly feeding into his interest in the topic, or knowingly and not caring, Halfshade responded to the idea of Smogmaw taking over like she would anything else; amusement.
As far as ShadowClan's leadership went, she was rather alright with Chilledgaze and the lead warriors were lovely but frankly she would not weep too many tears over Pitchstar stubbing his toe and retiring or whatever it was that made a leader step down outside death. Honestly, she didn't think he would last too much longer given he was a constant hair away from losing his mind at all times like some paranoid nutcase. Chilled would make a nice leader, perhaps, Chilledstar had a nice little sound to it but she worried over their mental state and how they handled challenges. A bit of a self-esteem boost would be in order. ShadowClan was quite the mess!

The torbie takes another smaller bite of the rabbit to chew on as she thinks, the tip of her tail idly twitching back and forth with a faint and audible slap against the soft ground.
He doesn't pry, which is all well and good, because she could do this dance and deter all day long if she so pleased; instead his words are awash with compliments and she beamed brightly in a white smile tinted with the faintest pink of blood from the rabbit she had been previously chewing.
"Oh thank goodness, you've fallen for it too! I was worried I was losing my touch~" She raised a paw to her mouth to cover it, almost sheepishly, "Oops! I mean thank you, how sweet! You are quite the rugged little tough guy yourself aren't you now?"
Smogmaw was by no means a very attractive cat, not that there was anything wrong with being homely and average since the variation in cats and their many appearances was what struck her as the most interesting! But he did look like the kind of cat who had lived outside in the wild for a long time so she was hardly surprised to know he'd been in this marsh longer than ShadowClan itself. Some cats had, apparently, she wasn't fully aware of all the details but before the clans there was one a colony.
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[smogstar]

At the torbie's perceived exclamation, Smogmaw's observance shifts from the prey and onto her stupefied countenance. Had her own words truly betrayed her, or was her faux pas performed simply to garner attention? Whatever the case, his thoughts lingered on the initial remark rather than her following proposition. Halfshade knows more than he does, and evidently, the tom's own understanding of her is either flawed or outright incorrect. Paying no heed to what her intentions may be, Smogmaw suddenly found himself that much more interested in his companion.

"Your touch?" he echoes provocatively, the corners of his maw curling into a keen smirk. Perhaps she, like him, conducted herself in a manner which misrepresents her true nature. The notion intrigues him greatly. "Are you implying that you've played me for a fool?" the tom goes on, though as he continues to behold her bi-coloured gaze, he realises that she may have just done that.​

 

[Halfshade]

"Oh, I wouldn't let it get to you dear." Her tongue swiped around a final time, enough rabbit bites to sate her personally so she was happy leaving the rest to him to enjoy alone as she stood with a careful flick of her tail out to avoid letting it sweep through the muddy ground. "I was just picking on you~"
She enjoyed her teasing, perhaps too much at times but a lady never let slip her secrets to the first tom to treat her to a nice meal; one had to play things a little more critically than just that. Good company was hard to come by in ShadowClan given how lacklust most of their clanmates were in personality: either too droll or too chaotic for her tastes at times but Smogmaw's dry wit was a welcome little change of pace.

"Thank you for sharing with me, I'll remember this when I catch myself something nice later~" With a jump of a step to get over him rather than just walking around like any sensible cat might do instead, she gave a little jaunt to her first few steps before sauntering off to the edge of camp and vanishing through the wall of brambles and bushes without so much as disturbing a single leaf.
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