private STAND STILL ♱ AMBERHAZE

VULTURESONG

The Oberried Altarpiece
Jun 7, 2024
27
5
3
How peculiar. Blue eyes gaze upon the black tom, who fidgets. How grotesque. She had heard news of his bravery during the battle against Thunderclan. She cared little about the feats of others, but when his name reached her ears? It was information that immediately consumed her. Amberhaze? That quivering fool? It was unfathomable, and yet... She had heard from more than one that the black tom had hurled himself towards a Thunderclan warrior in order to protect a Shadowclan apprentice. If she were in his paws, she would have left the Shadowclan apprentice to rot. However, Amberhaze was not her. He shared the same sentimentalities with others. No matter how boorish they were.

Even so, the knowledge of his bravery refuses to leave the crevices of her mind. It frustrates her beyond measure. She is well aware why this knowledge refuses to depart. All of it can be summed into curiosity. What made Amberhaze tick? White paws slink towards the black tom, her silence was something to be feared. However, what use was silence if you stuck out like a sore thumb? Not that it mattered, she did not intend to startle him. If he screeched and jolted that was a fault of his own.

"I've heard of your courage, I'm impressed. To think, a mouse returned unscathed." Compliments were rare, Amberhaze should be honored. However, there was no denying that her words were ever harsh. A rare smile taints her face. Pearly white fangs exposed, her smile was nothing short of eerie. "I'd never expect you would fight. Tell me, why did you throw yourself at a warrior? What moved you to unsheathe your claws?"

// @Amberhaze plops this here for you
 
⚛︎₊˚‧ Despite a nervousness around others that was all too common for the likes of him, Amberhaze would be foolish to pretend that there weren't some cats who struck him with a level of unease that was particularly difficult to play off. Vulturesong was one of them, the way she seemed to phase in and out of view like a powdery apparition, her piercing blue eyes that bore into the soul with icy fervor, her alleged inability to do something as trivial as care for another living creature besides herself. She was difficult to read, but what he could read he wasn't sure he liked, mostly because she didn't seem to like him either.

Considering all of this, the way Amberhaze would jump into the air with a choking gasp and bristling fur when faced with Vulturesong's unexpected approach aligned perfectly with everything he was known to be...a coward by all accounts. Perhaps that was why the ghostly molly allowed herself to indulge in her intrigue, for what had conspired between himself and Adderfang during the recent battle was almost unbelievable, for it had been Amberhaze to throw himself into the jaws of danger, and he did so willingly. He had spent his entire life making great efforts to avoid this very thing, and yet when faced head on with it, it was as if he had cast all that he had ever learned aside for the sake of another who he hardly even knew.

"I've heard of your courage, I'm impressed. To think, a mouse returned unscathed."

"Ah! Ooh...Um- H-Hey Vulturesong. Thank you? Uh- I think." His expression, previously panicked, quickly turned quizzical as his breathing began to slow back down to a more stable rhythm, her words slowly sinking in. Was that a compliment? It sure didn't seem like one, yet her voice seemed to lack its usual searing edge that typically came along with her usual mockery.

"I'd never expect you would fight. Tell me, why did you throw yourself at a warrior? What moved you to unsheathe your claws?" Her smile sent a shiver down the abyssal oriental's spine, ocher optics trembling with the strain of having opened wider. It was distracting, admittedly, and he hadn't realized the silence that stretched awkwardly between them until the she-cat's expression would drop to one of annoyance.

"Oh- Oh, right. Well, uhh..." Amberhaze's eyes darted in every direction except towards his clanmate, a brow furrowed heavily with thought as well as anxiety, seemingly uncomfortable with the question. He would break the renewed silence with a dry chuckle before continuing, hoping to relieve the tension despite him looking like the very definition of the word. "Y-You know, I didn't- uh- really expect myself to- to fight either. Truthfully I j-just...I needed to um- move. Like- if I didn't I-I would have..." He paused, swallowing hard. "...J-Just died, right there. S-So I didn't think, I-I kind of just- just ran- uh- in whatever...direction I could f-find space in. And then...I-I'm sure it was just...instinct, really. Um-" Finally, his eyes met hers once more, claws unsheathing and piercing the muggy ground beneath him as if he were trying to anchor himself from a particularly violent wind.

His words rang out clearer this time, and his delivery was so matter-of-fact it almost shocked even him. "They w-wanted to take what was mine. I needed to- to protect what was- is- mine."
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  • ooc:
  • whaddahaell3.png
    AMBERHAZE — HE/HIM ・ 19 MOONS ・ WARRIOR OF SHADOWCLAN ・ PENNED BY SLOANE
    black oriental shorthair. a short but lengthy black cat with a boney build and striking ocher eyes filled with unveiled trepidation.
 
She sees no need in clarifying. If he could not distinguish whether or not it was sarcastic, that was a fault none other than his own. It was not her responsibility to stroke his ego, if he has any. No response comes. Not as fast as she'd like. The annoyance is evident. She's certain he became aware of it when he stammers some sort of explanation. The need to shake him for a clear answer grows. His unsheathed claws fails to go unnoticed, her eyes lingering on them for only a moment before meeting his eyes.

"I needed to- to protect what was- is- mine."

Silence.

And there was a muted laughter that quickly evolved into cackling. "Yours?!" It was as if Amberhaze had told her the funniest joke of the century. Saliva drips from her maw, from her maelstrom of laughter that had yet to peeter out. Eventually, as all things do. It comes to an end. Perhaps, he was under the assumption he had said something stupid due to her laughter. "How, interesting." A white paw nonchalantly wipes the saliva on her chin. "You interest me."

Stormy blue leave amber, inspecting the black tom from his ears down to his paws. Your claws betray you. There is something I would like to test. Not yet, contain yourself. A hum permeates the air between them. She can't say his explanation is dull. It is as basic as they come. He unsheathed his claws for survival. Even someone as cowardly as he, still clung to life. Instinct, he said.

Oh, how wrong he was... Was it instinct for her parents to easily give up on life? It has been many moons since they breathed, their faces are a mystery to her. And their names? Even more so. The name they had blessed her with, long forgotten. Truth be told, she hadn't needed a name. The one who gave her a name had been Batchaser. The last memory she could recall was that of her mother. Of her silence as she allowed the rats to tear into her flesh. She had survived. However, the days that followed were painful. Her own mother passed away in a pool of her own vomit.

"I don't think it was instinct. You said it yourself, you didn't want to die. If you wanted to, then, you would have let it happen." Claws unsheathe as she draws near. Her gaze has never left him, even as she circles him. In any moment she could strike him, yet she refrains. I want you to fear me. Her pawsteps have slowed. She is the hunter. He is prey.

Eventually, she turns her back to him. If he thought she decided against it, he would be sorely mistaken. She takes few pawsteps away, before quickly turning, rushing towards him, head on. With a stoic expression, she raises her paw, claws glistening... And stops. Her claws a mere whisker away from tearing into the flesh of his cheek. If he struck her out of fear, she would endure it. She would not fault him. Her response would be the same, regardless of whether or not he spilled her blood.

Claws remain unsheathed as they slowly close the distance to touch his cheek. It's uncharacteristically gentle, if one would call it that (this is Vulturesong after all). "I wonder... What is yours, Amberhaze? And if I take it, what will you do?" There is a glimmer of tenderness within stormy blue, as she sheathes her claws, touching him more directly. "I'm not going to hurt you."

A white paw leaves his cheek and returns to the ground. The tenderness she had is dashed away, replaced with a fog. Her stoic expression gives nothing away. "You can put your claws away. Or... Perhaps, you are unable to. I don't quite understand what has you so rattled. You are fierce. At certain times. So, why are you so fearful?"
 
⚛︎₊˚‧ The sound of her howling caused him to startle, jaw firmly set so taut that for as long as she seemed to go on expelling that hideous cackling, he could not squeeze out a single sound himself. He was more confused than anything else, and for a moment doubt flashed clearly within wide eyes as he found himself questioning if he had said something funny...or perhaps wrong. Had she wanted a specific answer from him to which he did not meet? Was she making fun of him? A hot wave of embarrassment washed over him as he shifted his weight from side to side, willing for the uncomfortable moment to pass.

"How interesting." His gaze fixed onto that pristine white paw as it lifted to wipe away glistening saliva. "You interest me." This statement would catch his attention, particularly for the fact that it seemed so out of place. In his mind, he did so little to warrant being called anything other than absolutely ordinary, perhaps even below average- he would work himself to the bone if it meant he would live to see another day- but wasn't that simply what was expected of him? Was that not just instinct instilled into the bodies of every living being when faced with the possibility of nature's wrath? He was nothing special, not different from anything or anyone else in any way. To even be acknowledged in the first place was a miracle in itself, but to be praised...it felt like a dream. "There's uh...nothing very i-interesting about me. I-I don't think, anyways." He found himself biting his own tongue, surprised at his newfound desire to ask her what exactly it was about him that she found to be interesting. In truth, he found her to be just the same, though perhaps for different reasons.

Her speech continued even as her position began to shift, orbiting him with an unwavering gaze that matched the coldest shards of ice hanging from withering trees. "I don't think it was instinct. You said it yourself, you didn't want to die. If you wanted to, then, you would have let it happen." Amberhaze's eyes would narrow then- potentially for the first time ever- though there was no anger or hostility within the action, simply a result of a mind overcome by thought. "Uh...is it not...instinct... that makes us want to- to stay alive? T-To survive? ...Since when is- is wanting t-to live a c-conscious decision? Your soul j-just...wants it." An angular head twisted around to follow the circling figure that was Vulturesong, as if he were rotting carrion and she were a starved buzzard. "...Doesn't it?" He had never once doubted his motivations for continuing to push on through this life, even in the face of certain death. It almost made him panic to do so now, the answer to such questions being much more complex than he was ready for. He felt vulnerable, unprepared, exposed...everything that he hated and took great lengths to avoid. I feel sick.

Initially, he had allowed his attention to slip away from the molly so that he hardly even registered her tail facing him as she sauntered in the opposite direction without a sound. Only once she whipped around in a flourish of forced movement like a snake rearing its head did he move, flattening himself to the ground with hackles raised and fur bristling, creating the illusion of thick spikes protruding along his neck and down his spine. It made him look just a bit bigger, but not by much.

He did not flinch nor did he back away, but he did not lift a single claw in an attempt to strike her in retaliation or defense either. He simply stared at her raised paw, red-rimmed orbs stretched to their full size with something between a grimace and a snarl contorting his angular features into something more hardened. Amberhaze teetered on the line between terrified and violent- the same thing displayed during the battle between Thunderclan- the same thing displayed when his head was split in two.

The erratic pulse of his own heartbeat was so immense it flooded his senses, the roaring in his ears so loud he could have missed the string of words that escaped the lips of his unexpected adversary. "I wonder... What is yours, Amberhaze? And if I take it, what will you do?" He couldn't answer even if he wanted to. His body wouldn't let him. You can't take something you're a part of.

"I'm not going to hurt you." The softness in which she spoke and the tenderness of her touch against his cheek caused his breath to hitch, precious oxygen suddenly caught between his throat and the open atmosphere. And yet, his expression would slowly revert back to one that harbored less intensity, the desperation and ferocity that had once been plainly plastered for the whole world- but especially for Vulturesong- to see beginning to steadily melt away. Abyssal fur would smooth down and his breathing would resume a steadier pace, which by his standards wasn't all that steady at all, but still better than nothing.

It was a fleeting moment of peace that ended almost as quickly as it began, the warmth emitted from her pads tearing themselves away from him with a harsh feel that was more typical of her. In some strange way, that was more comforting to him than what he assumed was meant to be kindness or sincerity- not because he was unappreciative of the sentiment, but rather because it was unfamiliar- he already knew that Vulturesong was no delicate flower, and it was something he had come to expect from her. He did not do well with what was unexpected or unpredictable, and that was exactly what this entire scenario was.

"You can put your claws away. Or... Perhaps, you are unable to. I don't quite understand what has you so rattled. You are fierce. At certain times. So, why are you so fearful?" The tom would rise from his position on the chilled ground, a visible tremble present in his limbs as he did so. Why...? Amberhaze's mouth felt infinitely dry as his brow furrowed at the question. He knew why, of course he did. How could he ever forget? It was impossible, as much as he wished that it wasn't. The reasons were clear to him, and yet he couldn't bring himself to explain it. It would make sense to him, in all his delusion, but to others he was sure it would cause for an even deeper pit of despair and social disconnect to swallow him whole. "Um- I-I don't know." A laugh would escape him, and for once it seemed almost genuine. The sound lasted for only a moment, and his eyes had grown glassy with...melancholy.
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  • ooc: I'M SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT </3
  • whaddahaell3.png

    AMBERHAZE — HE/HIM ・ 19 MOONS ・ WARRIOR OF SHADOWCLAN ・ PENNED BY SLOANE
    black oriental shorthair. a short but lengthy black cat with a boney build and striking ocher eyes filled with unveiled trepidation.
 
Bewildered he looked at her interest in him. It amused her further. Amberhaze had always been one with a low opinion of himself, therefore, she had expected this of him. She wished he had been more bold with his denial. "Your own opinion of yourself does not disregard my own. I think you are interesting." How she is interested in him remains hidden to Amberhaze's dismay. Oh... If he had only asked her how, then he would have gotten a clear answer. One that he may not have been thrilled about. Granted, no one was thrilled whenever she voiced her opinion. Unless they were Batchaser, but he didn't count. After all, he was biased and her older brother. Haretooth? As sickeningly sweet as Batchaser. Hmmm... It's been some time since I've messed with my sorry excuse of a brother. His senses have dulled by now, I must keep them in shape. Should I invite Batchaser? This is not the time to be getting sidetracked. Time to refocus.

Anyhow, his answer was one that reminded her of a past she had yet to forget. It continued to torture her, refusing to release its claws from her heart. No matter how many moons passed, her thoughts drifted to a white kitten. A kind kitten. One who believed that everything would be alright in the end, even.... Even if she was covered in filth, petrified of rats, and went to bed hungry. It was atrocious and yet, she wanted to live. Believed it was instinct. Everything she did was to survive and ensure it. She couldn't explain it, but every fiber in her being refused to quit. That feeling was the same wasn't it? My soul wanted it.

Silence permates the air between them. The white molly in deep thought. "No." A blurred figure, one that refused to be erased completely surfaced from memory. A sharp pang stabbed her heart, ever so briefly her expression morphed into discomfort. "...There was someone I knew and saw pad to their death, willingly. Do not think it was swift either. She knew it would be miserable, and yet she desired that outcome. All I could do was watch. Therefore, I can not agree that it is our instinct to survive." Any elaboration of who this molly could be is left out. It is not of any importance to him. It's not like he knew her mother at all, and she rather not have him scrambling for condolences over a cat he knew nothing about. All that mattered to him was the very idea that survival was a choice.

Initially, he had allowed his attention to slip away from the molly so that he hardly even registered her tail facing him as she sauntered in the opposite direction without a sound. Only once she whipped around in a flourish of forced movement like a snake rearing its head did he move, flattening himself to the ground with hackles raised and fur bristling, creating the illusion of thick spikes protruding along his neck and down his spine. It made him look just a bit bigger, but not by much.

Amberhaze's reaction was peculiar. She is grateful for it, as it prevented her mind from divulging into more private matters. Matters that made her feel vulnerable. Oh, how she loathed vulnerability. If I ran my paws down your spine, would it hurt? The urge is fierce, but she has the sense to shove her desires aside. No matter how alluring his fur bearing the resemblance of rose thorns beckoned. Stormy blue merely took in the sight before her. I was right. You are fierce. It's... Not instinct.

She can't decipher it. Not yet. However, she takes every action or lack thereof and burns into memory. Instinct would demand that he swiped at her with claws unsheathed, but Amberhaze did not. I tried to frighten him. The eyes that gaze into her own are conflicted. He's not afraid. How did he know? That I was not going to hurt him? Did he have faith in... Me? No, that can not be it. Her white paw remains on his cheek, unable to solve the puzzle that is Amberhaze. Something stirs in her gut. It unsettles her. No cat in Shadowclan has made her feel such a way, and that alone is terrifying. Despair would not come now. This will be reflected upon in private. For now, we shove it aside.

The sensation burns as he follows her orders as if he were a kittypet listening to its twoleg. The tremble of his limbs is a sight to behold. Unknowingly, he has served her a cocktail of pleasure and disgust. The urge to turn and pad away grows as does the burning within her gut. Pathetic. Remember your training Vulturesong. She almost misses his answer, in her attempts to extinguish her plight. His laugh aids in her war. All other emotions other than frustration have decided to leave. It upsets her that he doesn't give her an answer.

It should not bother her as much, but after the puzzle he had given her? She feels as if she were a kit who was given a plump rat, only for it to be replaced by a scrawny one, seconds before tearing into flesh. Disappointment drips into her words, "I see..." To leave would have been typical of her. However, he interests her. There is much I have to decipher. Why did you not strike me? There is something within him. It eludes her for now, but eventually she will grasp it. For now, she notes the sadness through glassy eyes.

"Are you going to cry?" Of course, her bluntness gets the best of her. Instead of apologizing like most do, she opts to run with her blunder. "I think you do know. Perhaps, you do not have the words for it yet. Wounds of the heart can't be forgotten or erased easily. It's peculiar isn't it? How the heart knows, but the mind does not. The mind takes awhile to name what the heart feels, and even then it could name the wrong feeling." Was... Was she talking about him or herself? The lines were beginning to become blurred. She refused to wonder what Amberhaze thought of her now. The last thing she wanted to be called was kind.

That cat died many moons ago. Kindness didn't bring her back. If I had been honest, would she have listened to me?
"If you wish to say what is in your mind or heart, then do so. Do not concern yourself with how I would feel nor others. Your feelings are yours alone, who am I to say they are wrong? I will listen silently, if you desire one to hear your truths. If not, that is alright. It will be as this moment never happened. What transpired here will stay between us. I will promise you that, Amberhaze."
 
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