There aren't many things that bother Bubblepaw. Sure, she hates having bad hair days when strands of her fur won't lay correctly no matter how hard she tries, or when she can't quite seem to get the smell of old fish off her paws. But really truly bothersome things are far from the young apprentice's mind. She isn't even perturbed by many of the things that seem to threaten and annoy her clanmates- it's how she maintains her friendships and amicable meetings in RiverClan, and how she finds herself hanging out willingly with the ornery likes of Velvetpaw.
The pair are alone on the shore of the river. The scene is peaceful despite having witnessed such violence only a sunrise ago. It's quiet. The waters ripple and bubble past, but Bubblepaw finds herself unable to focus on any sort of prey beneath the surface. "Velvetpaw," the silver tabby pipes up with a small frown. She isn't apprehensive to talk to the apprentice like the others are- her apprehension finds itself coming from elsewhere. "Velvetpaw... You saw Otterpaw, didn't you? With the SkyClan cat..." Bubblepaw shakes her head as if the image might become clearer in her mind; as if her brain is an etch-a-sketch and the slate will come clean if she shakes it vigorously enough. But the image remains, as perplexing as ever.
Otterpaw and the SkyClan apprentice had sat amicably as she and Velvetpaw do now- though they'd been far closer to one another than she and her friend are now. The meeting between them had not bothered her. It had been how quickly what appeared to be a meeting between friends had melted into a pain-fraught frenzy. The way Edenpaw had fled and left a parachute of crimson in his wake. What could he have possibly done to deserve that? "I just..." Bubblepaw tries to collect her thoughts, but finds that every question or explanation or excuse dies on her tongue prematurely. "I don't know I just can't make sense of it."
Bubblepaw- lost in thought as ever, but especially now that she has real troubles on her mind- isn't quite looking where she's going. She stands to pace along the shore, trying to jog her memory. If she can't be rid of the scene in her mind, can't she at least try to see it more clearly? Before she can stop herself, Bubblepaw's front legs get lodged in some of the particularly deep mud along the shore as her back legs keep pushing onward. The silver tabby stumbles, nearly faceplanting straight into the river, and coming damn near splaying out between the shore and water and spraining something. She groans, a combination of dismay at her muddied chest and the confusion that continues to run rampant in her mind.
Bubblepaw is one of the few apprentices he can stand. She doesn't hate him– and more importantly, she doesn't condescend about it, either; she never looks down the bridge of her nose at him in the name of 'getting along' and other foxdung. Velvetpaw appreciates it. He appreciates her, really, even though she can sometimes be ditzier than dandelion fluff. It's the reason he sits with her now, peering into his reflection on the river. Glacial eyes fix on the scars nicks across his muzzle. He's lost in thought about it, recalling faces from his past as if to compare them to his own, when Bubblepaw speaks up at his side.
His ears twitch and he lifts his attention from the water to her silver-stream face. You saw Otterpaw, didn't you? His ears perk; his brows do, too. "Yeah, I saw 'em," he confirms, drawling voice low as if the dark-furred apprentice they spoke of could be nearby. He recalls the way Edenpaw had fled, their black racing stripe interrupted by wings of maroon. The tang of copper and salt in the air. But it was what came before their flight from RiverClan's territory that interests him more; that stupid kittypet surely deserved whatever they got, but what had Otterpaw been doing with them before all Hell had broken loose?
Velvetpaw's head tilts as Bubblepaw elaborates on the thoughts that stress her, and then he looks back into the river, his confused expression melting into a more recognizable scowl. "I dunno, either," he rumbles. "But they was gettin' real friendly before he attacked 'em, I think. I don't get what he'd want with that kittypet Clan." Icy eyes track shadows just beneath the water's surface. Oblivious to Bubblepaw's pacing, Velvetpaw lifts a paw slowly, carefully, just as Timberpool had taught him, ready to snatch a fish right out of the water–
and then Bubblepaw faceplants into the river, scaring all the prey away. "Geez, Bubble!" Velvetpaw stammers, getting to his paws to check on her. Her silver fur comes up black with mud. "You alright?"
Bubblepaw looks sheepishly at Velvetpaw, thankful for his concern no matter how embarrassed she is with herself. "I'm okay," she confirms with a small laugh, then adds with more sincerity "Thank you." The silver tabby backs away from the shore slowly, pulling her front paws from the mud they've sunken into with a comical pop! Bubblepaw takes a quiet and thoughtful moment to lap at her chest, trying to get some of the mud out of her white fur.
Conflict rises in Bubblepaw's belly. Her mother had raised her to be kind and considerate of others; to care about herself and her impression to others, but to never judge them for their own actions and preferences. Bubblepaw does not think less of SkyClan (nor any of the others outside RiverClan), and their affiliation with kittypets had no influence on her opinion, no matter how confusing it might be. Though there was one factor that did bother her: if Otterpaw and Edenpaw were meeting in secret... Did that mean that Otterpaw intended to enter into a relationship with a cat from another clan?
"They did seem to be... familiar," Bubblepaw confirms with a small frown, calling attention back to her original concern. She doesn't want Velvetpaw to think that she thinks poorly of outsiders- he is her friend, and she thinks of him as fondly as she thinks of anyone else that finds themself to be part of RiverClan. "You think Otterpaw was trying to... You know..." she tears her gaze away, ashamed to be gossiping about one of their mutual friends "Do you think Otterpaw is seeing that SkyClan cat?"
As soon as the suggestion leaves her mouth, Bubblepaw is scrambling for a better explanation. Something that doesn't place all the blame on Otterpaw's shoulders. Surely there must be a justified reason? The SkyClan cat should have been chased off, that much is certain. "Or maybe," Bubblepaw adds with haste "Maybe Otterpaw was just trying to teach them a lesson about what happens when you trespass." Even her hurried explanation feels like it's withering on her tongue. There doesn't seem like a good reason.
The mud pops as Bubblepaw shrinks backwards. Velvetpaw stifles a chuckle, though for once his laughter (however stuffed) does not come with any hint of judgement. It would take moons to groom all that mud out of her fur, so she ought to get a head start at it now. Maybe it'd even keep more fish in the river.
He doesn't pick up on her unease regarding his judgement of kittypets; nor would he care, he thinks, if she were uncomfortable about it. Maybe something would nag in the pit of his stomach — don't alienate her like you've done everyone else! — but Velvetpaw prefers to think that he would be above that, staunch in his morals no matter what other cats thought of them. When she continues past it, he hardly notices, instead focusing on the shadows in the stream that were sheepishly returning to the banks.
He strikes at one then, but finds no bounty. He can't blame Bubblepaw for his lack of prey now. A frustrated frown twists his muzzle, but her suggestion unwinds it just as easy. Do you think Otterpaw is seeing that SkyClan cat?
Velvetpaw's ears twitch as if to confirm what he's heard. Slowly, a laugh departs his frosty muzzle. The idea of Otterpaw, one of RiverClan's more precious apprentices, wasting his reputation on some SkyClanner — frankly, the absurdity tickles him, but more than that, he is almost... offended that Otterpaw would even take such a chance. Velvetpaw would never be so stupid, that is for sure. "Could you imagine?" he sighs, fangs still glinting, ruddy lips pulled back in a fierce grin. "'f that's how Otterpaw pads after cats, I hope he never finds a mate."
Still, the idea of their fellow apprentice simply making a point of Edenpaw is not satisfying either. There had been idling before he'd chased them off. Velvetpaw had seen it — and that curiosity still itches at him. "Maybe he was doin' some of that... extortin'," he muses. "Gettin' valuable information about SkyClan in case we ever need t' attack them. Or something." Espionage is not a skill that Velvetpaw has ever honed, but maybe Otterpaw saw a reason to?
He strikes the river again, and this time his hunt is successful: a minnow is rended from the waters that once held it. It's nearly pitiful in size, little more than a snack for one cat, but Velvetpaw is happy nonetheless. And, though he knows he ought to let the elders and kits have it first, he pushes it towards Bubblepaw absently. She'd probably want it more than anyone else would — it would surely get the taste of mud off of her tongue.
vivian . velvetkit . velvetpaw
— he / him ; riverclan apprentice, mentored by timberpool
— mottled black, blue, and red tom with spiky fur and icy eyes
— "speech" ; thoughts
— headshot by cheets, chibi by dreamydoggo
— penned by meghan; all opinions are IC!
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