- May 19, 2023
- 76
- 2
- 8
✿ — The Gathering disperses and Peonypaw finds himself almost relieved.
Don't get him wrong; seeing the other Clans is always an interesting experience, plus hearing the leaders talk is almost magical... right up until they start flinging accusations at each other until you cannot tell which one is lying and which one is not. (It's Sootstar, the one always telling the truth, but the others would be hard-pressed to agree.)
It's the crowd he doesn't like. The way the unfamiliar scents and voices blur together and overwhelm him, and he has to sit there and pretend it's not getting to his nerves. Misbehaving would be like a permanent stain upon his soul, a shame he would carry to his grave. Simply not allowed, even if he sometimes wishes he could just cover his ears with his paws and curl into himself somewhere at the edge of Fourtrees.
Well... getting out of your comfort zone is a good thing, or so he hears. Maybe overcoming this would be an achievement.
Nevertheless, Peonypaw finds himself accompanied by Cottonpaw on their way back home. Some would definitely call the two an odd pairing: night and day, when it comes to their personalities and general demeanours. Cottonpaw has the strange yet compelling ability to talk your ears off without having to stop and take a breather, while Peonypaw much prefers losing himself in apprentice duties instead of endless talk. Somehow Cottonpaw has proved to be pleasant company, one that Peonypaw still finds odd but otherwise appreciates. Perhaps it stems from knowing some of the apprentices would rather avoid her rants. He'd hate to ditch her like that.
"Speaking of," he says, not interrupting, but taking the chance to get his thoughts in when Cottonpaw falls silent, "That Magpiepaw or whoever the ShadowClan apprentice was, you know him?" Peonypaw swears he remembers Cottonpaw calling out his name. Odd.
Maybe it says more about Peonypaw than Gathering etiquette, but he would not manage to tell you the names of cats outside his Clan aside from the important ones like leaders. Not even if a fox demanded it from him with snapping jaws - spill or die.
Don't get him wrong; seeing the other Clans is always an interesting experience, plus hearing the leaders talk is almost magical... right up until they start flinging accusations at each other until you cannot tell which one is lying and which one is not. (It's Sootstar, the one always telling the truth, but the others would be hard-pressed to agree.)
It's the crowd he doesn't like. The way the unfamiliar scents and voices blur together and overwhelm him, and he has to sit there and pretend it's not getting to his nerves. Misbehaving would be like a permanent stain upon his soul, a shame he would carry to his grave. Simply not allowed, even if he sometimes wishes he could just cover his ears with his paws and curl into himself somewhere at the edge of Fourtrees.
Well... getting out of your comfort zone is a good thing, or so he hears. Maybe overcoming this would be an achievement.
Nevertheless, Peonypaw finds himself accompanied by Cottonpaw on their way back home. Some would definitely call the two an odd pairing: night and day, when it comes to their personalities and general demeanours. Cottonpaw has the strange yet compelling ability to talk your ears off without having to stop and take a breather, while Peonypaw much prefers losing himself in apprentice duties instead of endless talk. Somehow Cottonpaw has proved to be pleasant company, one that Peonypaw still finds odd but otherwise appreciates. Perhaps it stems from knowing some of the apprentices would rather avoid her rants. He'd hate to ditch her like that.
"Speaking of," he says, not interrupting, but taking the chance to get his thoughts in when Cottonpaw falls silent, "That Magpiepaw or whoever the ShadowClan apprentice was, you know him?" Peonypaw swears he remembers Cottonpaw calling out his name. Odd.
Maybe it says more about Peonypaw than Gathering etiquette, but he would not manage to tell you the names of cats outside his Clan aside from the important ones like leaders. Not even if a fox demanded it from him with snapping jaws - spill or die.
