- Jan 1, 2023
- 313
- 182
- 43
A familiar contempt nested quick upon his angular features, as the bird of embitterment had already made its home in gaunt and ghastly, and roosted with its talons on his tongue. Some birds migrated, some birds flew, but this one seemed to lose its wings long ago. Bananapaw skipped and laughed about, as stupidly as he had come to expect from the sand-and-snow she-cat, and prickles of irritation fluttered beneath feathery fur and fine flesh. Anything was enough to set him off though, and anything sufficed to make him feel as though he walked upon a wayward stretch of thorns. Though, he was glad it was her above most of the other Skyclanners. He felt the need to at least bite back envenomed verses when he was with her, at least. Adders and vipers bit indiscriminately, so perhaps he was better than a snake in that regard.
An unfortunately-recognizable voice grated against vigilant ears, as though it had come to taunt him in a time of perceived peace, a torment that he should have expected from so many cats and so many chance-meetings. Peace never seemed to like him enough to stay, anyhow. Everyone in the entire world was determined to exasperate him to a premature death. His fur immediately stood up in bristles as he caught wind of Firepaw's loathsome hide and the stench of Windclan that tailed her doggedly. As quickly as she arrived, she was gone, a phantom of the wind. He wasn't scared of her, though. Nails dug into the soft loam as if to anchor himself and stop himself from chasing Firepaw into the crowd, from disrupting the tense tranquility that blanketed the Gathering. If he had an ounce less of self-control, he would've done so, but he wasn't willing to be the one to disrupt. "Go fuck yourself, you dirt-loving moor-rat!"
He then turned back to Bananapaw, who had already been conversing with a slate-colored apprentice of another clan - most ironically, the same one that Firepaw went to. He refused to move from his rooted place beneath the bough's shadow, flashes of flame's color fluttering through the dancing darkness, like the lit glim against the gloom. "I'd love to mingle or whatever, but not with Windclanners." He shot Firepaw another pointed glare as she moved to talk to Cloudypaw. He wasn't getting anywhere near that bitch or her Windclan-stink.
( Talking to @Bananapaw , insulting @Firepaw , with @Cloudypaw in proxy. )
An unfortunately-recognizable voice grated against vigilant ears, as though it had come to taunt him in a time of perceived peace, a torment that he should have expected from so many cats and so many chance-meetings. Peace never seemed to like him enough to stay, anyhow. Everyone in the entire world was determined to exasperate him to a premature death. His fur immediately stood up in bristles as he caught wind of Firepaw's loathsome hide and the stench of Windclan that tailed her doggedly. As quickly as she arrived, she was gone, a phantom of the wind. He wasn't scared of her, though. Nails dug into the soft loam as if to anchor himself and stop himself from chasing Firepaw into the crowd, from disrupting the tense tranquility that blanketed the Gathering. If he had an ounce less of self-control, he would've done so, but he wasn't willing to be the one to disrupt. "Go fuck yourself, you dirt-loving moor-rat!"
He then turned back to Bananapaw, who had already been conversing with a slate-colored apprentice of another clan - most ironically, the same one that Firepaw went to. He refused to move from his rooted place beneath the bough's shadow, flashes of flame's color fluttering through the dancing darkness, like the lit glim against the gloom. "I'd love to mingle or whatever, but not with Windclanners." He shot Firepaw another pointed glare as she moved to talk to Cloudypaw. He wasn't getting anywhere near that bitch or her Windclan-stink.
( Talking to @Bananapaw , insulting @Firepaw , with @Cloudypaw in proxy. )