private LET'S GO AWAY FOR AWHILE | twitchbolt

[softheart]

It's the same scent that had flooded the camp, has had them fleeing. Sure that it's the day when he's going to bring back an unimaginable haul of prey back to camp with him in the beginnings of leafbare, that scent weakly lingering piques his interest, something he's not often engaged with. He's somewhat well acquainted with the territory, as much as he can be, nearing the end of his introductory mentorship. "Hey..." his head slowly drifts over to the frazzled looking dude. "Do you... Do you smell that?" Slow, like all his movements, he pushes his face to the grass, inhaling dramatically the weak smell of undeniable grime and rogue - alongside the kind of wet smelling grass. "Smells like.. uh.." He thinks. "Not SkyClan." Conclusion muffled by the greenery he's shoved his maw into. His head once again, makes the slow journey over, blinking distant blue eyes.

Goofy smile developing, he flicks his fluffy tail, towards where he's uncertain it's moved to. "Let's see where it goes." Dolly's words arrive as slow as his movements, thinking hard about each word. Maybe they won't be as bloodthirsty or as clawy, he reasons, his slumped body free of any tension, nearly puddling onto the floor. Anything frightful, he lumbers away from. Somehow he's escaped any real danger beyond the rogues that had thrown claws at him after tumbling into SkyClan.
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[TWITCHBOLT]

Rogues, rogues, rogues. What had the done for him except make him miserable- rip a chunk out of his ear? Well, without them- without them maybe he'd never have told Quillstrike he was in love with him. That was... a fairly large effect, but the cause was nothing more than a butterfly wingbeat. If not them, something else would have teetered Twitchbolt over the edge of life and death- something else certainly would have scared him enough to make a dying confession of some kind.

"Rogues," he hummed, with no hint of fondness. He did not owe them anything.

Not Skyclan, indeed. And he thought maybe Dolly would stop there, have a think- but no, no, of course not. He smiled as if he'd been hit upside the head and started tottering off on the scent trail- and Twitchbolt's eyes fluttered wide immediately. "Stars, stop! You don't know where they could be hiding," he hissed, disbelief a-quiver in his eyes. What, how- even could someone not think of it! And if Dolly got hurt under his watch, he'd just...​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[softheart]

He's still walking after Twitchbolt panics out the words. It doesn't take him too long to halt his venture. "Hiding.. They might be gone by now." The panic that seems to be a permanent residence in Twitchbolt's life is so dissimilar to his own experience, he's not sure he can feel such fear, he can't quite understand it. He swings his head back to the lead warrior, tail swaying high above, despite the circumstances contentment hangs onto him. "Why not?"

His nose twitches. "Let's do some... uh. investigating." The cats he's encountered in his brief time ousted as a kittypet surely weren't the friendliest, having claws thrown his way, but that obliviousness hangs onto him determinedly. He's easy pickings, soft and with his fighting experiences limited. Dolly turns his hazy eyes back to the lead warrior.

It's.... It's not good if they're in SkyClan." He attempts to explain, like Twitchbolt isn't well aware, and more familiar with the consequences of encountering rogues. "We can.... hmm." He squints, the thought taking effort. "At least find where they are if they're here."

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[TWITCHBOLT]

Why not? "Be- because they could be anywhere!" It was a weak and worry-ridden answer to that question, a whining little sound that Twitchbolt would have liked to stomp clean into the earth. Still, Dolly soldiered on; empty-eyed, and Twitchbolt's heart murmured like a cricket's song. Oh, he'd faint- he'd faint and then Dolly would be left without a minder, and- and why was he minding a grown cat in the first place?

In a calmer circumstance Twitchbolt might have admired how dead-set-determined Dolly was- unfortunately, he was rather more concerned with what he saw as an inevitable disaster. A red-eyed shadow streaking out of the shadows. Still, he supposed- reluctantly- that the other tom had a point... it would be better to find them if they were here. If. And hopefully it was an if.

A little worn down, Twitchbolt's hackles deflated. "Right, well- if you insist on finding them..." he sighed, clearly still on edge. Pupils drowned in green darted to and fro. "At least unsheathe your claws. Be- be ready for an attack, they won't... waste a second..." Oh, and he felt breathless all of a sudden, all over again...​

penned by pin ✧​