If the hard times don't kill me | Rookfang

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

Already squirrelly by nature, Snakeblink has been downright skittish these past few days. The disastrous Lichentail incident (which doesn’t narrow it down much) has left him on edge, alternatively glaring and jumping at shadows; he will freely admit that poor sleep has made it much worse, turned the anthill of his irritated shame into a mountain, but he doesn’t have it in him to either let it go or do anything about it. What could he even say? How could he blame Lichentail for doing to him exactly what he’d done to her before? He knew she had been hurt by his gossipping; it’s only fair that he got to taste some of his own medicine.

But stars -- he is so tired he wants to cry, a little bit, and the barely repressed chuckles from cats who witnessed the whole mess makes him want to rip off his own pelt.

Can’t forget, can’t (quite, yet) forgive -- what he needs is a win to get his mind off it entirely. He will settle for a distraction, though: he knows he is as likely to see success in his endeavors as the river is to turn into ash by morning.

Fortunately Riverclan is not lacking in projects.

He dismisses the apprentices off the bat: he doesn’t have it in him to make sense of the complex web of teenage drama they have going on at all times. Smokestar he will not touch: his meager usefulness to the clan would not outweigh the anger any meddling would spark in their leader, he doesn’t think. Any of the leads are similarly off-limit. He has learned his lesson, for now. Who, then?

Even as he goes through their rosters in his mind, part of him already knows who he will settle on.

He doesn’t know what it is about Rookfang’s misery that makes it so hard to ignore. Maybe it’s the efforts Rookfang makes to be easy to ignore that has the opposite effect on Snakeblink’s contradictory mind. Maybe it’s pettiness, paying attention to Hazecloud’s former mate in some misguided and idiotic attempt to get revenge for her words. Maybe it’s the familiarity of him: a dark shape huddled, awake, in the dark outside the warrior’s den every night Snakeblink finds himself just as sleepless, pacing the ground of camp to try and tire himself out of thoughts and fears. Maybe he just wants one of them lonely insomniacs to be happy.

(Maybe it’s that it stung his pride to have Lichentail snapping back in this way; that they saw his inquisitiveness as a threat rather than a paw reaching out, his nosiness as superficial meddling rather than his own attempt at caring. Stars, who knows what this whole thing is about, really.)

Whatever it is, he finds himself seeking out Rookfang again. The dark tom seemed… amenable to his presence before; he’s hoping it stays that way. Else he will throw in his lot with Mudpelt or maybe become a recluse forever; it remains to be seen. Seeing what Snakeblink’s record is like, socialization-wise, he’s already half-considering whether he could remain a lead warrior while refusing to interact with the living ever again. Perhaps he could run away from Smokestar so efficiently the other couldn’t pin him down long enough to demote him.

It’s with these uneasy thoughts casting long shadows in his mind and an uneasy, faint smile upon his face that Snakeblink approaches Rookfang, slithering up to the warrior and clearing his throat awkwardly.

”Rookfang,” he greets, bobbing his head in greeting. He flounders a little, letting the silence hang overlong before he continues, ”Have you eaten yet today? I was about to go on a hunt, if you would like to accompany me.”
​

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• 
  
• — Snakeblink • he / him. 47 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

​

​

 

[ROOKFANG]

THE HERMIT ─── Gossip. Rumors. White lies. They were all exhausting tasks for Rookfang. With so much overflowing from his exhausted mind, he had little care to breathe anything other than factual statements and brief opinions of individualism. Despite his observant behavior and analyzing from afar, he kept that information tightly sealed within himself and refused to spread it unless asked. But gossip? There was a unique trait one must have to play with such knowledge and create ribbons of conversations out of them. A trait that was lacking on his tongue whenever a clanmate attempted to socialize with him. Was it rooted in the fact that he had been a constant victim of gossip and tall tales? He was alerted by this fact little by little when he noticed the curiosity that was captured in the eyes of those who tried to squeeze something about him.

An exclamation. A retort. A memory. Anything. Rookfang had grown used to those opinions being wrapped and presented by those who viewed him, satisfied with their comments regardless if they were positive or negative. The criticism he cared little of as he was bitterly aware of his many flaws, ones that he could lose count of with his paws and it only made him strive for improvement. When it came to the curiosity of getting to know more about the reclusive male, he became a jumbled mess of mixed emotions, writhing and squirming with the unease of being known other than just a 'trust ol' clanmate'. He completed his tasks and kept his head down, detaching from the idea of needing to show off or reveal anything more than the exterior he had built for himself. Every brick and layer had been placed with feather-light delicacy and strengthened with the responsibilities he was beginning to take.

However, his hearing had only improved since the fox attack, and that caused whispers to slip into his ears like freshly submitted letters, one that had included the name of none other than Snakeblink. That green-eyed grapevine seemed to have been caught in his very own flames of rumors from what he had heard, backfiring and causing quite a scene to play out. Rookfang had not been around the time the humorous event had burst into action so he did not see how cornered the other tom had felt. He didn't understand the vulnerability of being attacked by the method one had grown accustomed to but Rookfang knew it had left a searing mark on the lead. Despite this, it didn't waver the respect he had for Snakeblink since after all, who was Rookfang to judge? He was no better in his own way.

His heavy eyelids remained solidified in their half-resting position that hid the dark intense blue that mostly traced his eyes, slits of faded yellow and rich blue focusing intently on the ground as his long claws dug into a flat smooth rock, sharpening his claws in preparation for a hunt. With the blanket of snow and freezing air that rustled and danced across his thick jagged pelt, Rookfang knew he needed to head out into the withering wilderness to seek out more prey. It gave him a good excuse to bring more prey that was not fish as he excelled more in aviary prey than fish since his vision had become ruptured by the jaws of the fox, the large scar that was carved across his eye including the fogginess that inhibited his ability to see. As he was preparing to leave, the voice of Snakeblink caused his attention was travel back to the present, thoughts of past and future cut short by his name as the spiky-furred warrior turned to face the direction of the lead.

His deadpan expression hardly adapted to the inquiry and request, a ghostly trace of soft confusion briefly danced on his features at being asked to come along for a hunt. With him? The secluded male seemed hesitant at first, preferring to be alone but the faint trace of desperation for distraction caught him off guard and he gave a light nod of submission. "No, I haven't eaten yet so a hunt works well.", He arose to his heavy paws and locked his attention on the lanky male, dense tail twitching as he inquired, "Where would you like to hunt?" ​

 

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

Rookfang is bigger than him — Snakeblink always forgets, somehow, because of his slouched stance, until the other stands and he remembers himself. He has long beaten the irrational urge to cringe away from bigger cats, like one bites on a vole’s neck to stop its thrashing; he can only suffer so many obvious tells of his weakness. But he still gets a slight, anxious shiver that ripples down his spine, a murmur at the back of his mind wondering: if things go bad, can I run?

But Rookfang would not hurt him. Not only has Snakeblink not given him a reason, it’s not in the other’s nature to be senselessly violent. Not like Nightfish, whose bulk comes with a hair-trigger temper that has Snakeblink stepping lightly near the black-and-white tom. He holds images of Rookfang with his sibling in mind as he looks him in the eyes, remembering his patience with Valepaw to ward off anxiety at not knowing where he stands, personally, with the taciturn warrior.

”The twoleg camp?” He offers after a quick glance up and down Rookfang to assure himself of his relative health. He prefers fishing, but he doesn’t want to subject either of them to the cold grasp of the river today. ”They will not step near it in this season, and the remains they leave behind always attract prey.” Granted, most of those preys are birds pecking at the crumbs of twolegs lives, but that is food nonetheless.

Unless Rookfang objects, he turns to start making his way in that general direction, glancing back to check that the other is following.

It’s a moment before Snakeblink speaks again, careful to keep his voice quiet, mindful of Rookfang’s preference for solitude. ”We do not have to talk if you would rather not — but I would be glad for a discussion, if you would grant it. I feel we have not often had the opportunity to talk, and I regret that.” A quick, awkward smile, thrown over his shoulder. ”So, how are you, Rookfang? Anything you would like me to know?”
​

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• 
  
• — Snakeblink • he / him. 48 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

​

​

 

[ROOKFANG]

THE HERMIT ─── Despite not a word being spilled out as commentary, Rookfang had noticed the way the other observed him as he rose from where he had been resting. It caused a tight ribbon of familiar shame to wrap around his heart at how he appeared to others. Grim. Terrifying. Unusual. Being larger than most and carrying fangs that were permanently poking out of his jaws and fur that had the appearance of him being related to a thorn bush, it had brought along the natural curiosity of being observed or gawked at. It was quite peculiar when he decided to dwell in the creation of his self, his mother--she was a slender and serpent-like beauty with a lightly powdered pelt that carried deceiving diamond blue eyes. She was a peculiar sight but not frightening...until you looked at her mouth. Same cursed fangs, refusing to be hidden. He wondered what his father had been for him to turn into a hybrid of uninviting characteristics, a constant reminder of what loveless 'love' could create. Now, he made a constant note to himself to remain slouched when among his clanmates, or at least the ones who eyed him in such a way. He only prayed to Starclan that his little brother would not be heading towards the same fate but his ears burned upon the memory of hearing of Valepaw recently losing his baby teeth, now only time would tell.

His burning ears pricked at the offer of the Twoleg place as their hunting ground and he wondered if Snakeblink would notice the loosening of his tense shoulders, the scar etched on his shoulder shifting down gently with ease. He adored Riverclan and those who lived alongside them but for him, hunting land prey felt more natural to him even after moons of constant fishing. Was it an innate trait that had been passed by his mother? He was not sure for he could hardly recall her bringing much prey back home, mostly her with a fat fish latched by her jaws with not a single drop of river water gracing her pristine pelt. This had made him always wonder if his father had been a Riverclanner, was he even around? Even so, it seemed that the Riverclan blood had not been as powerful as Rookfang wished it could be. "I have not been there for quite a while..." Was all he muttered in a hushed tone as he began to follow the lead warrior, tired stare briefly fluttering up to the sky to notice any possible risk of bad weather that may interfere with their hunt.

There was the silence that held Rookfang in a steady hold until it was cut through by the voice of Snakeblink, it was softer than he was used to from the other but his hearing was heightening with each passing day since the wound that had damaged his sight solidified itself to his appearance. The rugged warrior couldn't help but quickly snap his focus down to the frozen ground upon seeing the other smile, not used to Snakeblink's attention. There was a strangeness to it that he was not used to, he felt like he was being observed through some investigation as if he was guilty of something he had no clue of. He knew not to assume but he was aware of the limitless curiosity that the other held and with Rookfang's desire to shut anything out, it left him dumbfounded when he was being awaited for an answer. A few beats passed before Rookfang gave a low exhale. "You regret it?" His distant stare rose to look at the other, his pace quickening ever so slightly to be closer to the tabby. "....I'm doing fine. Doing my best in my sad state is all I can say. But what would you like to know?" His natural suspicion was gnawing at the back of his mind but he was tired. He was tired of keeping everything in and even if Snakeblink and him were still strangers, it wouldn't hurt to push down some walls down.​

 

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

Rookfang mentions he hasn’t been to the twoleg camp in a while, and Snakeblink hums in agreement. Patrols may keep him busy pacing up and down their territory, but they rarely take him towards the camp and what lies beyond: their border there is maintained more by the twolegs’ presence than scent markers. “Even better, then — it will be a nice change of scenery for us both. Any diversity of sight is good to take in this star-forsaken season.”

Leaf-bare leech all colors out of the scenery, and the snow-covered ground melds with the cloudy skies in a hazy expanse of grey only occasionally broken by the pale bones of trees reaching up for a sun that will not show its face. Snakeblink isn’t easily bored, but he struggles to keep his mind off the discomfort of the cold season with so little to pay attention to; the light rumble of Rookfang’s voice is a welcome distraction.

”Perhaps ‘regret’ is not the right word,” he says, glancing back at the other tom, closer now. Despite his smaller frame, his naturally quick, anxious pace has somehow put him in front; but he quickly realizes that it’s not that Rookfang can’t outpace him; he simply won’t, out of what Snakeblink hopes is merely deference but fears might be distaste for his current company. Ah well; it’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. ”I feel we might be…” A moment of hesitation at his own boldness. ”We could be… friends, given the chance — or not! But— well, I only wish to know you better, is all.”

He clears his throat, frustrated at his own tongue, his words and thoughts equally jumbled — how easy it would be if only his natural loquaciousness came with a natural knack for knowing the right thing to say! His sigh morphs into a wry chuckle at Rookfang’s deflection.

”I hope you are being genuine — if anything terrible were to happen to you, I fear I would not have the slightest idea. You are a hard tom to get a read on, do you know that?”

In truth, getting him to talk is like pulling teeth — except Snakeblink would have an easier time of it, seeing as Rookfang’s eye teeth jut out of his mouth while his emotions stay right there in his chest until, Snakeblink assumes, he dies and takes them to the grave. He briefly imagines grabbing one of those fangs between his own teeth, a puzzled frown disturbing his neutral expression as he tries to make sense of that mental image, before he shakes his head and answers Rookfang’s question.

”Anything you feel like sharing,” he says evasively. Then — he cannot help himself, and this conversation feels so awkward already — ”Your opinion on the weather, hunting tips, any accomplishment of yours or your siblings’, complaints… You are always welcome to complain to me, I have been told I have a good ear for it. How are you faring with Bumblepaw, by the way? I hope she has not been driving you up the trees, she seems like quite the pawful. Though yours look more than up to the task —” He glances down at Rookfang’s paws and stops himself in his tracks, letting out another, more self-conscious chuckle. ”Apologies. You see now why I should not be the one in charge of selecting a subject of conversation.”

He turns back to their path with a shrug, ears flicking uncomfortably. ”I am a nosy one, as you well know. Anything you are willing to say, I would be glad to hear.”
​

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• 
  
• 
  
  
  — Snakeblink • he / him. 49 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

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