private smerdyakov with a guitar

[RAVENSONG]

"And I'll show you how soft my claws are!"

Ravenpaw snarled at the group of wildborn apprentices who had taunted him for his recent failure on a patrol. Maybe he could be a good fisher—if he was not such a dry paw. That word filled Ravenpaw with so much rage that he had to take a step back and walk in tight laps to free his mind from such a nasty feeling. It was a symbol of how terrible he was as a river cat. All he saw was death when he looked into the water. The flooding had only confirmed it.

Ravenpaw stalked away, lashing his feathery tail. The flood had taken away his hard earned work and he had to start all over now. Twilight had just settled. The moon was rising and the stars were blinking from the great abyss they resided in. Ravenpaw held a fish skeleton in his mouth and he laid it down reverently on a flat stone. He picked the skeleton apart carefully—eyes narrowed in concentration.

Whoever happened to find him would see the large-eared apprentice mumbling to himself, looking up at the sky, and then shuffling with his paws over the broken fish bones.​

 

[dovethroat.]

Dovepaw perhaps had only not been bullied or teased as much as the victim of his spying because he was much less loud. He was an easy target—not particularly physically competent, smaller, younger. He did not know how much younger he was than the apprentice he had been staring at from the shadows for more time than was necessary, but he certainly did think he was younger. All he had to lord above him was that he was wildborn. Not a kittypet, not a soft-claw.

Of course, he had hardly been on any patrols at all. And in spite of his birthright, his status as a wildborn—it was pretty hard to argue that he was any more competent. He tended to not actively perform poorly, but that was largely a side-effect of not doing anything at all.

As his subject stalked away, Dovepaw continued with him. It was almost as if it were done without thinking.

What was perhaps most surprising, however, was the fact that this fellow apprentice was fiddling with a fish skeleton. Dovepaw liked fish, but he certainly did not like them that much.

Getting a little bit too close for "watching from a distance" length, Dovepaw stared dumbly down at the rock. His lack of proper socialization by a rather strange parent was beginning to rear its head.

[⋆]​

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[RAVENSONG]

So focused was he on his task that he had not even sensed his spy. It was only when he looked up at the sky for a thousandth time that he caught something in the edge of his peripheral. Ravenpaw jumped slightly, his dark fur fluffing out in alarm as he took in the stealthy individual who had chosen to sit close but just not close enough to him.

"You." Ravenpaw said simply, swiping a paw carefully over the broken bones on the flat rock. He was obscuring them from view, but not entirely wiping the slab clean. "What are you doing here?" His tone was curt and pointed, not quite unfriendly or rude, though anyone would struggle to call it entirely friendly.

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[dovethroat.]

Dovepaw was a bit socially clueless—if it were not clear that such was the case already. He was admiring the way the remnants of what was probably a meal shifted around under his paws when it became evident to him that he had been caught. He was a bit of a space cadet from time to time, but he had eyes, after all. It was clear he had been seen, and it was clear he was not wholly welcome.

Flinching, Dovepaw ducked down into something that looked like it was in between a defensive and offensive pose. It seemed like he had no clue where he was standing in this interaction, and was frightened by the sudden shift in dynamic.

"Um, uh, uh," he stammered, eyes darting pointlessly around as he tried to come up with a lie that never came. His gaze wide and unsure, he swallowed audibly. "...W-Watching?" Eventually, he just decided on telling the truth.

Though maybe he should have lied. He kind of regretted not lying immediately.

[⋆]​

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[RAVENSONG]

Ravenpaw's narrowed eyes continued to bore into Dovepaw's face, searching for any hint of mockery. He did not get a diagnosis until the other apprentice managed to untie that tongue of his and blurt out a word. Harmless. The thought rolled in Ravenpaw's mind. The spiked fur along the back of his spine soothed and his abnormally large ears relaxed.

"Am I that interesting to you?" His purr was strange—raspy, like it hadn't been used very often. "Weird, even?" He swiveled his head around to push his nose closer into Dovepaw's space. He pulled back abruptly and lifted his paw to reveal the smooth stone with shattered fish bones arranged very purposefully.

"Look closely at the fish bones. Then, look up at the sky. Then tell me what you think."

He had created a replica of the starry sky above them, using tiny fish bones to mark the placement of the stars.

​

 

[dovethroat.]

It became clear that he was not exactly welcomed—though perhaps describing his reception as outright bad would be incorrect. It seemed like the older apprentice was checking to see if he would tease him, just as those rude wildborns had done before. Dovepaw was a wildborn, but he certainly liked to think that he was not like them. After all, he probably got the same type of treatment that he would get if he was a dry-paw. Though perhaps he could not exactly make that judgment.

"I, uh," he blubbered hopelessly, tucking in his chin as he tried to get away from Ravenpaw but still seem the tiniest bit un-cowardly. He failed, obviously, but it was the effort of it that counted. "I d-don't—I don't think—I w-was just c-curious," he practically bit off his tongue trying to get that sentence out, and settled on something that was not exactly true but certainly good enough.

Taking Ravenpaw's instructions to heart, Dovepaw took a trepidatious step forward and turned his attention to the ground. Unsure what he was supposed to be seeing at first, a few rounds of glances up at the sky and then back down at the diorama of bones made the connection in his mind.

"Oh." He blinked. "It's, um, uh—i-it's the s-stars." Dovepaw meowed, terribly lame. "...Why, uh, are y-you doing that?"

[⋆]​

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[RAVENSONG]

There was an unspoken social hierarchy amongst them. Dovepaw lorded over him in this mark. Yet, there was an in. Ravenpaw noticed the way the other, younger apprentice squirmed and blubbered and tangled his tongue with words that made Ravenpaw prick his ears to listen closely. He did not ask him to repeat anything. All he had to do was watch and Dovepaw bled out in front of him.

Part of that was why he decided to share his special project with him. Nobody would believe the apprentice if he told anyone—if he had anyone to tell. Dovepaw would not scoff at it either. Ravenpaw expected him to find it cool. He expected him to praise him. He closed his eyes and puffed out his chest, waiting for a chirp of admiration.

It did not come.

Ravenpaw opened one eye and looked down at his peer. He sighed dramatically. "StarClan." He said, unenthused. "I love the stars, but I can't love StarClan... quite as much. And so, I want to prove them wrong. Maybe the stars are something else, and not just spirits or beacons of prayer. Hm, what do you think? I think it's good to try to understand how the world works around you."

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[dovethroat.]

Dovepaw was an odd mix of traits. On one hand, he was keenly aware of the reality of such social hierarchies but seemed completely unable to fathom the reality of his placement. Though he knew the ways he interplayed between what was considered "better" and "worse" than the other thing, he shunned the fact that he possessed some of those quote-unquote better characteristics. He presented himself before all as if he were little more than a wheezing, incompetent fish on the side of the river.

He would have given him some admiration if he had known he was supposed to. The sudden look of disappointment in Ravenpaw's eyes made him feel terrible. Of course, somehow, he had messed this all up.

"StarClan?" He asked, confused by the correction. Were they not one in the same? A bit too timid to voice that interrogative nugget in his head, he remained silent. "I, uh, I..." uh oh. Questions like this were hard. No right answer. Nothing he could say that was inscrutable.

Of course, he waffled.

"Th-They... c-can be b-both. I th-think."

The landmark response of indecisive, vascillating wusses.

[⋆]​

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[RAVENSONG]

"Do you really think that?" Ravenpaw replied sharply, his eyes narrowed as he looked down on the smaller, younger apprentice. "Because I don't think you do."The answer was not satisfactory for Ravenpaw, who eventually drew his gaze away from Dovepaw and reorient it to the sky.

"Something can't be two things at once." He continued with a shake of his head. It did not make sense. The stars were either their generation-removed ancestors or they were not. "Of course, you might be able to get away with it being... a sign of them, but not them in actuality." He mused, paying little mind to Dovepaw's defeated tone. Ravenpaw wanted to believe he was treating him like an equal in his conversations.

"Perhaps I was wrong." Ravenpaw frowned after a moment, ears pricked up with interest to hear Dovepaw's return—if any. "I'm not interesting to you."

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[dovethroat.]

The sharp reply made Dovepaw seize up, looking perfectly frightened as he was interrogated. Opening his maw, only a few useless, stuttering noises fell out of it for some time. "Um, uh, I—I m-mean," he did not really know. He had not thought about it. But the fact of the matter was that admitting that he had not even thought about it made him look like an unintellectual doofus and he did not want that.

"Y-Yes, they can," Dovepaw protested sharply, as if he were were now on the defensive after being asked so many questions out of the blue. The typically passive and polite apprentice began to feel a flare of indignation in his chest.

The next response made him much more unhappy. Opening his mouth for a moment, nothing came out. "...I n-never s-said that. That's m-mean." He spoke somewhat bluntly in a grumbling tone, immediately and visibly regretting it.

[⋆]​

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[RAVENSONG]

Ravenpaw did not expect proper answers to his questions and musings. He knew that they were subjects few cats touched. The dark-furred apprentice was also quite full of himself, as Dovepaw was slowly figuring out. He liked to believe he was the most intelligent cat of all of RiverClan at the very least. He would not let that show, however, that he was expecting a fumble and was not actually offended by Dovepaw's indecision. He continued to watch with a neutral face.

"Tell me an example then." Ravenpaw prompted, his pupils shrinking for a brief moment as he looked down at the lighter-colored tabby. The sharpness of his voice prompted a curious twitch from Ravenpaw's big ears. A moment of silence passed before he smiled, a crooked grin showing off his teeth.

"You don't have to say it." He chuffed. "I can tell from your body language." He held up a paw and brushed it against his own chest fur, smoothing it down. "You don't want to like me, but you're entranced by something about me. That's what makes you stay. I don't mind your company, actually. I don't hate you at all, Dovepaw."

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[dovethroat.]

Dovepaw never wanted to seem like a simpleton, though he was beginning to get more and more suspicious that Ravenpaw was at least partially assuming he was such. The very thought of it lit something resembling rage in his chest. Though Ravenpaw's muted and bemused response did not inspire much positive emotion in Dovepaw himself, he was at this point indignant enough to not back down.

"W-Well, you, y-you are—" the thought of calling him drypaw flashed through Dovepaw's mind, but he showed restraint and kindness after letting it slip. "An ap-prentice, and mean." He huffed.

The reading of his emotions made Dovepaw withdraw for a moment, going silent. "I d-d-don't hate you," he grumbled. "I... I just d-don't like it when people assume."

[⋆]​

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[RAVENSONG]

There again was the signs of a muted rebellion, but nothing explosive or explicit opposition. Ravenpaw was mostly certain it was being kept underneath the skin so far because Dovepaw was polite. Some day might come where that filter would be ripped off. Ravenpaw wondered if he was enough to prod it to that point.

He blinked at the example given. A heartbeat passed in silence between them before Ravenpaw opened his mouth again. "That—does not follow my rules." He huffed. "Mean is an adjective. Of course someone can be multiple qualities. And you cheated—I never said anything about living things. Those are much more complicated." His dark pelt ruffled and twitched almost in an anxious manner.

"Many will make assumptions about you." Ravenpaw turned his attention toward his bone-marked star chart, aloofly ignoring the other apprentice. "I'm just bold enough to point it out to your face. You can leave me now."

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[dovethroat.]

Again, Dovepaw could not help but deal with the flash of indignation that was brewing in his heart. "Y-You never s-said anything a-about it not including l-living things," he protested sharply, his voice growing increasingly unsure and weak as he continued on in his retort. "How w-was I supposed to kn-know?" He asked, sounding dejected and pouting as he stewed over his inner turmoil.

Finding himself thoroughly insulted, Dovepaw had half a mind to take Ravenpaw up on his offer and leave there and then, never to speak to him again for as long as he lived. However, something in his brain compelled him to bite back. "Oh, s-so—so you're b-better than me because you're mean out loud?" He asked. "Well—w-well, then, uh, just—just t-tell me you w-want me t-to leave, then. Be h-honest."

He refused to move until Ravenpaw spoke again, fur literally bristling at this point.

[⋆]​

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[RAVENSONG]

Despite Dovepaw's protests, Ravenpaw much rather preferred to keep obfuscating his true intentions in order to pin the mistake on Dovepaw. Soon he would cover up the hole in his philosophizing, but not now. While the apprentice was usually calm and collected, he was prone to sudden bouts of irritation when something did not go entirely his way, and he was experiencing it now with Dovepaw's sudden challenge. Who was he? A follower or a rebel?

"I'll explain it to you later." He twitched one of his large ears dismissively, covering half of the bones with a crooked paw. He was so dedicated to his resolve that he would ignore Dovepaw as he left that he nearly jumped out of his fur when Dovepaw retorted. Eyes flashing, Ravenpaw turned his angular head toward his fellow apprentice, a look of mystified surprise swirling in his green-blue irises.

The bristled fur made Dovepaw look bigger.

Ravenpaw was silent for a moment, unblinking.

"Leave." He smirked.

​

 

[dovethroat.]

It was very clear, even to someone who was nothing more than an outsider, that there was a battle of the minds, of sorts, going on between the two of them. Neither one of them appeared to have much interest in backing down—a display of behavior that one might not expect in the otherwise meek, unassuming, and too-polite Dovepaw.

The way Ravenpaw seemed surprised he had even said anything, the way the flick of his ear seemed so uncaring—the way he had the nerve to grin at him with such a stupid look on his face and say leave like that. Like it was some sort of challenge, like he was trying to prove something.

Dovepaw was filled with a sort of rage he did not often feel. Never, really, would be a better descriptor.

"Fine," he nearly spat.

Moments before turning around, though, he was consumed with anger and used a paw to kick a clump of dirt over Ravenpaw's sacred-seeming skeleton.

[⋆]​

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[RAVENSONG]

If he were asked, this would not be how he expected the interaction to go about. Dovepaw had seemed to him someone malleable—but perhaps Ravenpaw's bratty temperament was enough to prompt some sort of spine showing. It was annoying, really, just how inspirational he could be for the wrong reasons.

Nevertheless, Ravenpaw would win. He was done talking to Dovepaw, wanting the conversation to end on a note where his argument had the better ground. He did not want this to be the last time he would ever see Dovepaw, but judging from the way he reacted, he did not have much fear that would be the case.

"Hey!" He growled, rising up to his feet when the dirt was thrown over his precious bones. An angry glare was tossed in Dovepaw's retreating direction, but his paws remained rooted to the ground. He was above attacking a Clanmate—so he liked to believe. Ravenpaw sniffed and puffed out his chest, carefully using his claws to dust off the bones.

"Stupid..."

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