private NOTHING, FOREVER ♡ WORMWATCHER

[mockingbirdcry]

It's rare that Mockingbirdcry is permitted her brief forays out of camp, much to her chagrin. One of the chief downsides of her role as a permanent nursery resident—right alongside hardly ever getting to bare her claws—was the lack of freedom; she's far too familiar with these four non - walls, as it were. Each fern and speck of mud is almost loathsomely familiar . . . two years of spending most of your waking hours in the same constricted hollow, covered in the same strangling muck, dealing with the same monstrosities of ego would do that to you, no?

As such, when she manages to pester @Wormwatcher into being her escort for a walk to stretch her legs and take a break from the ever - open beaks of the kits, she is glad . . . but not glad enough to stop the inevitable judgement. With antenna as finely tuned as the greatest of the night's luna - moths, sensitive to the barest sliver of gossip - fodder or shift in the political winds, she's equally capable of applying such sensitivities to more frivolous matters . . . specifically, the way the lean grey - hued warrior had been eyeing their leader as he made the camp his stage, the council his cast, the rest of them an unwilling audience. She's no frog - brain; long an outside viewer of romantic issues ranging from the tinies puppy - crushes to the deepest of soulmates ( all of it watched from the other side of the glass ), she's nearly expert at reading such a gaze.

" Quite the fan of Smogmaw, aren't you? " she drawls in husky tones once they've cleared the fern - thicketed mouth of camp and broken out into the pines. Sure, she's enjoying the kind of breeze that rarely reaches into the dank pit of camp; sure, she's enjoying the deep scent of muck and pine, the sight of little bog - flowers, the taste of open air; but most of all, she's luxuriating in the priceless expression on Wormwatcher's face. Her tone drips with implication, though, as ever, she refuses to speak in terms any clearer than their home territory's murky waters.

OOC : —

♡

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[Wormwatcher]

✧*:.｡. Wormwatcher was elated to leave camp as soon as Mockingbirdcry asked him to, as it was not often he could leave the camp without a flock in the form of a border or hunting patrol. Today the heat was not as sweltering and beneath the canopy of pine trees it was tepid, the perfect day in his opinion. He walks in pace with the pale she-cat, his maw parted to inhale the aromatic tree scent.

It was nice to be away from the bustling camp, especially with the atmosphere being as charged as it was with the death of Chilledstar and the shifting of power to the cynical deputy, Smogmaw. He felt the crackle of anticipation as he stood, observing the council meeting that Smogmaw convened in the center of the clearing– a clear testament of the power he will no doubt display as leader, further strengthened by his nine lives he has yet to receive. Wormwatcher listened earnestly to Smogmaw addressing the council, all his attention focused on the senior tom at all times, only breaking to greet Mockingbirdcry when she wandered close to himself. He remained statuesque and poised, as if he would be asked to declare his fealty, just as the council members would do so. His lips remained pursed, a shallow grin quirking his often expressionless features.

As the wiry tom continues to pad alongside Mockingbirdcry, their flanks brushing in familiarity as they meander further into the territory, he continues thinking of the demonstration of power shown earlier. Wormwatcher appreciates the audacity... Quite the fan of Smogmaw, aren't you?He hardly reacts at Mockingbirdcry’s remark, but once the words process in his mind, he halts midstep, his maw dropping in disbelief. Wormwatcher appears dumbfounded and caught off guard, his carefully built defenses of a nonchalant demeanor shattered in an instant. This accusation stung more than the she-cat, whom he now glared at (quite woefully), could ever comprehend. He remains frozen for several heartbeats before setting down his paw and then he rolls his shoulders and careens his angular face upon Mockingbirdcry, his entire demeanor switching. He mews, rather coldly, “Well, of course.” Wormwatcher shrugs, tipping his chin upwards slightly to appear bored with the conversation. “He was a tremendous deputy and shall be a great leader.”

✧*:.｡. ~ aren’t i enough? ~

• ooc
  
• wormwatcher —— ✧*:.｡.shadowclan warrior, he/him, homosexual, 28 ☾

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