private Tell me what you’re letting in ☾ Wormwatcher

[Haretooth]

"INDELIBLE IS WHAT I NEED TO SPREAD THE WORD."​

Oh this was just fantastic, Haretooth wasn’t sure what he had done to indicate to his dear sister that he was slipping in regards to skill as a warrior. Ever the dutiful sibling she had taken it upon herself to test him, he never knew when they were coming or what they consisted of. Today was to test his reflexes, clearly if he can’t avaid the assault of mud that his sister had expertly thrown his way then he was not of use as a warrior. The muck clung to his pelt, slowly but surely drying under the watchful glare of the sun. Must it be so warm today? Must he have to trudge through the camp looking like some disgusting creature.

He supposes that assessment is unjust and cruel, plenty of clanmates participate in rolling in the mud for pleasure. Or for tactical advantage, it was a good tool to use to effectively stay hidden in the shadows. He just didn’t see it as a preferred practice for himself, as such it was deemed a waste of time even if he could concede to those tactical advantages. He trudges back to camp with a scowl twisted across his maw, jagged and deeply sorrowful. One would think a family member had died rather than being subjected to a dirty pelt. He finds himself a quiet spot to rest, one where he would normally retire to when it was clear that he didn’t wish to speak with anyone.

Today that spot was filled, by one Wormwatcher of all cats. Haretooth held no ire for the tom, he seemed perfectly respectable yet today was not the white toms best and he would have much preferred to have this spot in solitude. Did that stop him from sitting down next to him? Absolutely not. Long limbs delicately fold over the other as he lays next to him, perhaps a little close but he figured this silent intimidation may give him that spot back.

Diligent work begins, rasping his tongue against the fur of his chest in an attempt to rid himself of this muck, ears fold against the curves of his skull to highlight his displeasure over this act. How humiliating. Pale eyes glance at Wormwatcher once again, debating on actually saying something. “Do you think Smogstar has been handling the rise to power well?” political talk seemed like pleasantries enough, not something he was overtly interested in but it had potential. It was a miracle that he hadn’t opened and ended the conversation in one fell swoop by demanding that the warrior would leave the place of solitude that he usually sought.

| @Wormwatcher
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✯☽✯​

 

[Wormwatcher]

Wormwatcher sprawls his limbs out, resting his head on his arm comfortably. It was high noon and quiet in camp, resting was an unusual change of pace from his usual antics of finding one task after another to obsess over. His eyelids are half-lowered but he hardly pays any attention to the goings on of camp, the blue tom would rather enjoy the rare moment of quiet, both externally and internally- his mind was not whirling down untraceable paths as it often did.

His lack of attentiveness is why he does not notice Haretooth's initial arrival, his presence goes ignored until the ghostly tom decides to lay practically on top of himself. Piss off! Wormwatcher's angular head raises from his arm and he glares at the tom, pale eyes darkened with irritation. He whips his spindly tail against Haretooth's back, signaling for him to leave. It is to no avail, he can tell Haretooth won't be leaving so easily. "You look disgusting," Wormwatcher mutters, observing Haretooth's persistent grooming for only a moment before returning his head against his arm. The tom won't be leaving, he'll cope with Haretooth's annoying self for now.

"He's doing fine," he grumbles, his tail now curling closer to his haunches- a sign of his anxiety surrounding the health of Smogstar. Could the illness have taken one his precious lives? "He's had power for a long time, truthfully. It'll be an easy adjustment."

Wormwatcher raises his head again and raises a delicate paw to gesture off to the entirely empty camp surrounding the two. A splattering of mud has gathered on his flank from Haretooth's grooming, seeing as much makes Wormwatcher's brows furrow in frustration. "Could you move? You stink and I think I'd rather have any other tom laying next to me... shoo."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ shapes and colors are all i see

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  WORMWATCHER —— black/blue chimera with low white
  —— shadowclan warrior
  —— he/him ⋆ homosexual (closeted)
  —— 30 moons ⋆ ages every 10th

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