private What lies around the next turn | Cindershade

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

As far as his usual plans go, Snakeblink’s campaign to befriend — or at least endear himself to — Cindershade has not been going… catastrophically poorly. The black molly is not an easy one to approach, and the fact that the two of them did not start off the right paw doesn’t help him at all. Their duties force them together more often than not, though, and Snakeblink has found that as long as he stays as quiet and unobtrusive as possible then Cindershade seems to find him palatable enough not to snap at him. Progress.

Some, she included, would call him a fool for this pointless tenacity in the face of someone who most likely doesn’t like him very much. Truth is, he himself isn’t entirely convinced of the rationality of this endeavor. There are many cats in Riverclan, some of which might feel more inclined to warming up to him; why be so hung up on Cindershade in particular?

Perhaps it’s the eternally dissatisfied loner in him, reaching for those who have rejected him in hope that goodwill alone might fix what is, at its core, only personal preference that happens to exclude him. Perhaps — and he places more stock into that explanation — it’s that they have been made such a matching pair that it feels natural that they should be friends, and the fact they aren’t yet vexes him. He craves what Smokethroat and Willowroot have: a friendship, a partnership, that makes their work easier and their clan stronger. Cindershade doesn’t seem to be on the same wavelength yet. But since the stars saw fit to curse Snakeblink with such abject blindness to social cues telling him to quit while he’s ahead, he might as well make use of it for his own ends.

The why doesn’t really matter in the end. Fact is that Snakeblink is on a mission, a friendship mission. And he’ll keep trying as long as Cindershade doesn’t physically pick him up and throw him off the gorge.

Today, he has decided to move on to the next step of his grand plan: striking up a conversation with her that isn’t directly related to their duties. It’s risky — doing such a thing is exactly what landed him in this situation moons ago — but it must be done at some point. He chose his time to approach her carefully: a warm day, with no tedious patrols or incidents, at sunset, when dinner ought to have left her mellower and perhaps in the mood for some communal grooming.

Any other context would have been easy to back out of, but this is just too perfect to pass up on. Surely the sky looks too pretty, the sun too warm on their back, for her to bite his head off. The worst that can happen is her telling me off, he thinks anxiously as he approaches her.

”Cindershade, hello. Would you have a moment to talk?” He ducks his head, grimacing politely. ”Nothing bad, I assure you. I only wanted to discuss the… Windclan situation.”

They — the leadership of the clan, if they can be called that — have talked extensively about the situation already, but something still doesn’t sit right with him. He’s hoping that going over it with her will help.

”In particular, I was wondering — do you plan on bringing Sablepaw along?” ​

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• ooc: man wildly overthinks friendly interaction, more at 6
  
• — Snakeblink • he / him. 40 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

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[Cindershade]

With the day dissipating behind them, their duties had been completed and the rain had rolled farther down the horizon, Cindershade was feeling quite—at peace. A tantalizing bass had been sitting amongst the pile, untouched and she just couldn't help herself but to grasp it for herself. She's settled along the edge of camp, hidden halfway within the shadows as the setting sun warms her back—revealing a phantom rosetted pattern engraved in her pelt. A successful training session today with Sablepaw had placed her on a more pleasant mood than usual, ontop of tucking into the fish before her, she had finally let herself just relax.
It is then that a creature approaches her, slender and long—brow tabby patterns adorning his white fur and those same sneaking virdian eyes. Snakeblink slithers over to her, expression ever unreadable as ever, before taking seige on a place beside of her. Cindershade eyes the tabby from her peripheral, tearing another piece of filet on the carcass before her. During these times, she's supposed Snakeblink's presence has become more manageable—especially when he keeps his trap shut about her love life. The shaded warrior was certainly an observationalist, and it didn't take a martyr to see that he was trying—as feeble as it was. He cared about her, wanted to interact with her. A fly attracted to sugared sap. In a way, he's grown and anchored himself into her pelt—the evidence shown recently as he nearly collapsed after the battle over Sunningrocks and she took no thought to lift him back upon his paws. He was a clan mate first, then an irritating buffoon next. She'd always have a sense of protection over him—even if she were the one who wanted to be the one to cause him harm.
He speaks to her now, his tapered muzzle widening into something of a smile and she eyes him with a brief glimmer of concern. Cindershade, hello. Would you have a moment to talk? "Are—are you in pain or something?" She inquiries right after the pleasantries have rolled off his tongue, arching a dark brow at him. "Why are you—making that face? Please don't tell me you're trying to smile. Stars, Snakeblink. Sometimes I wonder if you were dropped from a tree and landed on your head as a kit." A huff of laughter involuntarily escapes her and she nearly recoils from it, knowing the repercussions if he picked up that she was finding him the least bit humorous. A noise of her clearing her throat is met with another look to her fellow lead warrior as he continued on. WindClan situation, hm? She did feel a bit—unsatisfied from their meeting—as if she didn't get the answer she wanted. She'd been wanting to talk about it, though she never had much of a chance since then. "Sure. You wanna talk about kidnapping her brood again, yes?" A twinge of a smile pricks at her darkened lips. "A morbid idea, really, Snakeblink. I commend you for it. Sootstar would near shit herself. Like we need anymore of her spawn on the prowl." She settles herself as he then speaks of Sablepaw. He wanted to know if she had planned on taking her. Ivory whiskers twitch in thought as silence engulfed between them for a moment. Apart of her wanted to say no, to shield her from the cacophony of chaos and bloodshed that would unfold. But, Sablepaw was training to be a warrior and she needed to let that happen. She had to conquer her fear. "I was planning on it. She's—she has the potential but her self doubt holds her from progression. Hopefully that will change soon." A flicker of sullen periwinkle eyes briefs her psyche for a moment, then vanishes as quick as it came. The molly sighs, "what about you? Are you talking Frogpaw?"

​

[ SILENCE IS DEAFENING ]​

 

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

Seeing himself not immediately rebuked, Snakeblink slowly folds himself into a lying position next to Cindershade. His joints pop as he does, unused as they are to rest; he has, admittedly, been pushing himself a bit lately. Apparently it shows, or perhaps this is what his face always looks like; Cindershade’s concern certainly sounds sincere as she asks whether he’s in pain. He lets the unfortunate attempt at a smile drop, surprised to find that her harsh words don’t sting the way they might from someone else. Coming from the black molly, anything short of outright threats sounds downright honeyed to his ears. Her amused huff certainly helps, and he preens a little in response. She tries to cover it up, but it’s too late: he knows she finds him funny now.

”I’ll have you know my mother would never have stooped to dropping me off high places,” he retorts, affecting wounded dignity. ”I was dropped into the deep end and left to drown, like a proper river cat.”

But the feeling of levity quickly fades as she comments on the… admittedly twisted plan he considered against Windclan. The reminder of the coming conflict has his fur bristling before he can tamp down on his unease. ”I wouldn’t enjoy it,” he argues, ”But it would work on anyone with a heart, and I have to believe there is one hiding under that pelt of hers.”

She looks thoughtful for a moment as she considers the matter of her apprentice, before saying she intends on taking her along. Then she asks the dreaded question: whether he will do the same.

What should he say? Nerves shiver through him and he jumps to his paws, starting to pace before he’s realized what he’s doing. What can he say? That Frogpaw is not ready, when her own apprentice, younger by moons, is? That Snakeblink failed at the most basic duty of a mentor and failed to prepare his apprentice for battle? That he’s afraid of trusting Frogpaw’s abilities and being proved wrong, of overconfidence and denial of his failings causing the adolescent to be wounded, if not or worse? That he wishes he didn’t have to go himself, that fighting under the open sky terrifies him, that he has never won a battle without help from another cat or the river, that he still wakes up in a cold sweat with the feeling of Flycatcher’s teeth clamping around his shoulder?

He has shared his worries about his apprentice’s skills to Smokethroat before, more publicly than he now believes he should have: these doubts are his to wrestle with and he’s afraid of his apprentice being made aware of them through distorted rumors. But to admit to his own cowardice… To a warrior such as Cindershade, no less! He doesn’t dare.

”I’m not sure,” he admits at length. He stops dead in his tracks, glances at Cindershade, then away in… shame? Anxiety? He can hardly tell anymore. There’s a weight permanently lodged in his throat these days, eels squirming in his stomach whenever he lingers on their current situation for too long. ”I worry about him getting maimed. He’s still young— inexperienced. Children shouldn’t have to fight wars.”

Pacing once more, he continues, increasingly frantic, ”But what don’t I worry about, these days? I quite like your plan, I do, but I will not lie to you, Cindershade, the thought of it keeps me awake at night! Calling on the exiles… It’s brilliant, it’ll work, I’m sure, but who knows what they’ll ask in return for their help? Or even what they’ll do in a fight? Windclan trains butchers, not warriors. And,” there his voice lowers, nearly to a whisper, ”Cicadastar… He worries me, as well. I worry for him. But he—”

Shaking his head, he stops again, one paw still raised halfway into another step. He twists his head to look at Cindershade while holding the position, as if to hold that thought as well. ”I’d hear your thoughts on the matter, if you would share them.” His voice is nearly pleading, tight with the anxiety he so rarely gets to put words onto.
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——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• 
  
• — Snakeblink • he / him. 40 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

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