CUZ I DONT REALLY LIKE ANYBODY
OOC- for the sake of quills mood im just officially making sure this is prior to Deer leaving lol
If Quill were in the mood to be honest, his life wasn't nearly as bad as it had been three weeks ago. When he'd first fucked up with that apprentice and got himself landed a million extra chores and a fucking one-man-military as a mentor, he'd been in a bad headspace. Not only had he felt bad for acting so carelessly in front of his clanmates, but he was already also struggling with just [i[living his life[/i] thanks to the ridiculous growth spurt that left him constantly fucking things up wherever he went. Twitchpaw had been mad at him, avoiding him for almost ten goddamn days, and the half of the clan that was pissed at him for fighting with that apprentice had been going out of their way to either load him down with extra chores or fix him with looks that ranged between pity and scorn. The early mornings and abrupt wakeup calls. The pressure to perform on a level that was acceptable to Thistleback. None of it had been good.
And he knew he'd gotten off lucky, because Quill wasn't so foolish as to believe that time healed everything. Some wounds just ran too deep to stop festering.
In this case though, that hadn't been the case.
Twitchpaw forgave him. The looks began to fade. He woke up easier in the mornings. Felt more at home in his own skin. Slowly but surely, change was taking place in him, starting with his daily habits. He didn't oversleep long enough for Thistle to terrorize him into waking, the workload assigned to him didn't make his muscle ache nearly as much as it used to, he wasn't failing as much. It was like the strain that had held him both physically and mentally was slowly loosing its grip on him the more he adjusted to things, and at some point all of it had started feeling less like a punishment and more like life in general, a typical routine.
And it wasn't horrible.
The pair returned to camp from their hunt, Quill holding the vole he'd managed to snag. It was a good one, and while Thistle had ordered him to give it to Soil he wasn't entirely convinced he'd be doing so. For now though he dropped it on the freshkill pile, turning back to his mentore when they began to speak. Quill still wasn't entirely used to this part yet, the casual conversation that would occasionally rear its head when he wasn't fast enough to mutter the usual 'are we doing anything else?' before excusing himself to find Firefly or Twitch. Today thought it seemed he hadn't been so lucky, and pointed ears turned to listen.
The praise came easier when coupled with an insult. What that said about Quillpaw probably wasn't anything great, but he wouldn't complain. It was more pallatable for him this way, left him less inclined to lash out in some uncessarily attempt to guard himself for what he perceived to be false praise or some kind of deception.
" However. You don't seem very. Focused. What's going on in that mind. What plans do you have for your warriorhood? … you're not a thoughtless hound now are you? "
"What if I am?" he asked, the words leaving his mouth without thought. Insolent, to the untrained eye, but perhaps not to Thistlebacks.
It was simply a question, dressed in blunt apathy. What if he was just some mindless dog with no desires of its own? What if he craved the simplicity of it?
"I don't have some big plan, if that's what your hoping to hear." he continued. "I don't want to become leader. I don't want to be a lead warrior. I just want to do the things that normal cats do."
It was probably a disapointing answer to Thistleback. He was so accomplished in SKyclan, so well liked and so capable that to hear his apprentice wanted none of the same things must have sounded pathetic. But it was true. He didn't idolize Blazestar and want to follow in his footsteps. He wasn't some noble warrior that wanted to work their way up the ranks to stand among the best the clan had to offer. To be perfectly frank, Quillpaw would have been perfectly content being a complete nobody if it meant he could have the few simple pleasures he wanted; a warm nest, food to eat, some cats he could trust and kill time with, a place to hunt. Nobody screaming at him or swinging at him or making him feel like shit.
Some peace and fucking quiet.
skyclan - male - 8 months - bisexual - homoromantic - single - very tall tabby tomcat with broad shoulders 
