sweated it out in a hotel room ✦ snail

[WINDSTRIDER]

Windstrider was beginning to take notice of something.

How Snailpaw was never mentioned at the meetings, no new name. If it was ever discussed within the clan, it was momentarily and Windstrider had never given it a second thought. Until they were promoted, whilst Snailpaw lingered behind in the apprentice den. It was enough to make them wonder. Their clanmate's reputation was a unique one, and though they could piece it together from there, they wanted to hear it straight from the source.

And, if they were being honest with themself, Windstrider wanted to talk to Snailpaw.

Why? They didn't know. Windstrider had convinced themself that they gravitated around hard workers, the pushing force, those who were always looking for ways to be. Those who didn't fall into that category shared little of their attention. Paws wandering over the grass, the smoke floated to Snailpaw, and realized that there was nothing to keep them doing something as they searched for an answer. Neither of them were running on the moors, or perfecting a jump. They were just -- they were. In camp, nothing special, the sun a bit warmer than had it been a day or so ago.

"Snailpaw," they said, trying to get their attention. "Meeting was interesting." A few days prior. Silly. Outdated conversations. Sorely lacking the capacity for small talk, it took all their willpower to sit off to their side, trying not to observe the other too intensely. Not an interrogation, though their stiff words might've felt like such. "I expected your name to be called."

@SNAILPAW ​

 

[SNAILSTRIDE]

Camp had rarely been a safe haven for the young WindClanner. At any moment they could be woken up for another tough drill or with claws in their legs, and though the smell of blood had only washed away with the promise of newleaf, the lingering memory of what they'd arrived home to last moon would live with Snailpaw forever. Gratefully absent from any duties that day, their nervous gaze searched the tunnel entrances, praying to StarClan that a familiar face would pop out of at least one of them. They were certain they saw the soil disturbed by one such burrow when a sudden voice caused them to nearly jump out of their skin. Sitting straight before they even recognised who it was, their panicked stare quickly settled onto Windstrider, softening as they mewed an awkward greeting. They weren't someone that Snailpaw had talked to often, but their blood spoke of a reputation that entangled with all the tabby's woes about WindClan. It was... complicated, especially when such blood offered comment about the meeting.

"It sure was! Tigerfrost and Wolfsong becoming Lead Warriors? Woooo.... Go WindClan!" Even in front of the child of a leader, their optimism wavered in an insincere tone. They immediately noticed and cringed inwardly, hoping their smile would be enough to temper the fury of someone they expected to be fully devoted to Sootstar. They began nervously licking at their paw, as if keeping their mouth occupied would ensure that they wouldn't dig themselves a greater hole than the tunnelers ever could. But then, Windstrider mentioned them, and each muscle in the apprentice's body froze. Snail had made thousands of excuses to dozens of different warriors, enough to where keeping up with the lies was difficult and tiring. They looked Windstrider up and down, realising that they likely would've shared a promotion day had fate been different for the classic tabby and found that they'd run out of believable falsehoods. Some animals were more likely to talk than others, they'd found. Windstrider was someone who never seemed to have a penchant for gossiping, the truth wasn't something that could easily get lost through whispering to other cats. It felt as if they'd fact-check anything they said, it was weirdly comforting for someone who'd favoured honesty before their clanmates were exiled.

A series of 'ums' and 'ahs' escaped Snailpaw as they searched for a way to explain it best, their grin growing more and more awkward with each passing millisecond. "Me too, I guess! I mean, I kinda expected my name to be called but I dunno. Apparently, I was subject to a random assessment and... my mentor saw me pass out on the moors while chasing a hare. But I've caught stuff since then! I guess it doesn't really matter if you can't do it when it counts, right?" Their ears drooped sadly besides their skull. They'd never become a warrior if their assessment was based on combat, the one time they could've become one and their alleged 'head sickness' had stopped them. Remembering Weaselclaw's disgust, they quickly added on, "I'm not ill though, promise!" They still hadn't talked to Vulturemask about it, but being told to just 'get over' their other issues had discouraged them from seeking out the help they needed.



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