pafp LET ME BE THE PORTABLE HEATER THAT YOU'LL GET COLD WITHOUT [πŸ₯€] huddling for warmth

deerpaw

if you don't love me, don't tell me
Sep 12, 2024
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He'd like to think he's friends with Vulturepaw now, but he can't be sure. How does one know once they're really, truly friends with someone? Is there some kind of unmissable sign? Some sort of feeling that just feels right? Perhaps most importantly, how many nice things does he have to do before someone likes him enough to be friends? This whole social interaction thing is so much more complicated than his close observations and mental notes could possibly have accounted for. It leaves Deerpaw feeling more lost than he did before. What if he's got this all wrong, and he's being too pushy or too desperate?

Speaking of Vulturepaw - Deerpaw perks up visibly as he sees the apprentice in question. A particularly biting breeze sweeps over the camp just then, sending a shiver through the bodies of any cats unlucky enough to be clipped by it. "Uugh..." Deerpaw shudders, fluffing out his fur. "H-Hey, Vulturepaw! Um. Do you want to come and sit with me to stay warm?" He hunkers down and curves his tail to indicate a Vulturepaw-sized space next to him. His smile feels a bit too hopeful, but he doesn't dare try and quell it in fear of hard-correcting and pushing his denmate away.

  • /please wait for @Vulturepaw to post!!
  • DEERPAW ❀ he/him, apprentice of windclan, eleven moons
    β­ƒ a tall, lanky chocolate ticked tabby tuxedo with big copper eyes. quiet and sensitive, he keeps to the fringes of windclan out of a deep sense of insecurity. without his father to guide him, he's lost sight of where his life is supposed to go. he thinks he has to be useful in order to be liked.
    β­ƒ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
    β­ƒ penned by solaire ↛ @funeralscythe on discord, feel free to ping for plots.

 

Λ–βΊβ€§β‚Š β˜½β—―β˜Ύ β‚Šβ€§βΊΛ– Friendship is a thorny and fragile thing. Just the slightest misstep can tear everything apart, all those hard-woven bonds spilling across the earth red and bleeding. Vulturepaw and Rowanpaw were friends. Then Thriftfeather came, and the barbs revealed themselves. Once more he shuttered himself within the harsh shell of his spiny-furred body, turned his face away from the world.

There are few who Vulturepaw does not feel as though they are walking through thorns among. The fear - the everpresent undercurrent that courses like electricity through their body - does not go away. But it quiets to a hum.

Deerpaw is one of them. Dusty-furred and petal-soft, he speaks to them in the quiet tones of the wind. His hesitant words weave through the barbs of their defenses, and Vulturepaw can only blink in surprise. "Huh?" He squeaks out at first, as if startled by the shivering tom's mere presence. Something about it takes his guard down, and he has little reason to think the words anything more than they seem. Deerpaw is not a creature of shifting, untrustworthy words and hidden thorns - no, he is one far too alike themself to hold any ill will. A jerky nod meets the timid question. "Uh, yeah! Good idea," he agrees, scampering over to tuck himself into the conveniently him-shaped pocket of space before he lets himself second guess. It is very cold out, after all...

  • 90218437_oRuGl1YrmCS28f4.png


    "SPEECH"
  • VULTUREPAW ⛧ he / any, apprentice of windclan, ten moons.
    ➳ a spiky-furred dark tabby with amber eyes.
    ➳ skittish and dour, with a superstitious sort of pessimism.
    ➳ micheal x npc, adopted by periwinklebreeze.
    ➳ sibling to dustpaw, bilberrypaw, mourningpaw and weepingpaw.
    ➳ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    ➳ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.