}} belligerence.&.bile [SW and RS only]

[fαllεη •]

Down by the elders' den,
Early in the morning
See the angry elders there
Here we go...

Rivershadow arrived back at camp puffing like a queen giving birth, his lungs trying desperately for oxygen rather than foliage. 'The apprentice ferry service is now closed for the day. Please take care of your own darn apprentices from now on.'

He hadn't eaten this morning, hadn't seen anything to hunt on his frantic dash back from the dead pine, and... Great, he'd forgotten to ask Smokeleaf if she had any mouse-bile, which meant that he was going to have to get the wretched stuff from her den himself.
No sign of Spottedwing yet.
Of all the ways he imagined this going, most of them featured her being angry and him sitting in silence while she hissed at him. Of course, she could sit in silence too. It might be angry silence, it might be sad or lost or unrequited-lovey --he didn't really know what that last one was like and didn't really want to. He'd also have to appologise to her for being late, which really singed his whiskers. Nevertheless... Much as he was sure he was going to hate this, part of him really, really hoped that he didn't. Maybe it would just be an amiable silence? On that he was counting.

[Seafeather]

Spottedwing

Spottedwing sat outside the elder's den quietly waiting for Rivershadow. She wasn't annoyed, or even mad. In fact, she had just gotten up herself and headed over. A small mouse sufficed her grumbling stomach as she waited. Patiently she answered the elder's questions with "In just a moment." and "You'll have to wait please." and "He's coming to help." She just about had it with one of the elders who was getting snappy with her when Rivershadow came running back to camp huffing and puffing.

"Finally!" She said with relief. "The quicker we get this done, the quicker they'll get quiet." Spottedwing walked into the den and started to clear out the moss, rolled it into a ball, and throwing it to Rivershadow. "Can you get some more moss while you're taking that out?" She had asked nicely.

[fαllεη •]

"Finally!"
The tom glanced over at the elders' den and saw Spottedwing already sitting there. Man, he was going to get it... Then he finally registered the note of relief in her voice and exhaled heavily. That was one welcome he hadn't been expecting, but the tired tom would welcome it. He'd slept out of camp last night, not wanting to share a den with Spottedwing for any longer than he had to, and that run on an empty stomach had left him a little light-headed. Nevertheless, he padded into the elders' den after her.

Moons of this duty never prepared him for the stench in here.

Someone had rubbed mint and catmint onto the walls, along with some pungent herb that he didn't recognise, but none of that overcame the scent of stale bedding, old cat, dead fur and bile that always hung around the elders. Rivershadow couldn't help wrinkling his nose. This place had always seemed more like a dying hole than a den to him, and every time he was pushed into this job he swore to himself that he would never become an elder. It was a stupid thing to swear, but he would rather be an ancient warrior who everyone thought was crazy for refusing to give up his name than one of these ageing sacks of skin. Sure, they'd done their jobs, but you would've thought that they'd take better care of this place.

"The quicker we get this done, the quicker they'll get quiet."

Sound logic. He watched from the doorway as she started to clear out the moss, not wanting to intrude on her working space and dreading the moment that was going to come. He just managed to focus quickly enough to catch the ball of ancient moss on his claws before hearing, "Can you get some more moss while you're taking that out?"

A familiar old wheeze of laughter came from the corner. "Riverpaw, back again so soon?"
Rivershadow shook his head, plastering the smile he reserved for this den onto his face. "It's Rivershadow now, Longfang." His father gave another wheezing chuckle. "Silly me. You told me that the last time you were here." The elder's face fell, the memory dampening his dusty laugh. No parent wanted their son sent to the elders' den as often as Rivershadow had been.
He was about to take this moment of remembrance as his cue to leave, when another elderly cat recognised him and called his name. "Rivershadow?" his mother's voice piped up, wavery and high. "It's been too long!"
Her son smiled his best parent-meeting smile and nodded, slowly backing out of the den. Meeting his parents was never much fun, and usually ended with his father remembering all the faults of this particular son. He might have even forgotten that Streampaw was dead, and the tom didn't want to be around when that memory came back. He fumbled for the words he needed, the socially acceptable excuse to leave and get on with his life. "Excuse me, I've... gotta take care of this." He gestured helplessly to the large ball of moss at his paws.

The two sets of blue eyes smiled at him from the darkness, open and empty; unnerving. Once free of that squalid hell-hole, Rivershadow was finally able to turn his back on the cats who had given him life. Kicking the ball of moss ahead of him, he loped out of camp.

He only woke up to the fact that he was leaving Spottedwing with his parents when he was half-way through digging a dirt-hole for the moss. As soon as the unpleasant realisation came, he thrust it away, digging deeper into the earth as if it could somehow swallow him whole.

OOC: Feel free to play his parents XD

[Seafeather]

Spottedwing

Spottedwing was left alone with the elders while Rivershadow went to throw away the old moss and bring in some new. And along with the elders, Rivershadow's parents were there too, and they didn't seem to thrill that he was there. Well...maybe except for Arcticbreeze. She seemed like a nice enough cat.

"So, are you and Rivershadow friends?" She had asked out of nowhere. It brought Spottedwing up short when she thought about it. Are we friends? Or enemies? Or...nothing?

"Erm...I'm not really sure. We're kind of at opposite ends at the moment." Spottedwing continued to scrape out the remaining bits of moss and threw it out the den.

"Oh, I see." Arcticbreeze began. "Not really friends but not enemies. Rivershadow takes his time getting to know other cats. He doesn't like being rushed. Rushing him only makes him go further away." Emotional pain flickered across her face. She must've tried really hard to love him, but he kept pushing her away. So love from a distance was best to get closer to him? She was going to ask her more about her son when Rivershadow came in with more moss and started to spread it around.

[fαllεη •]

The feeling of earth under his nails was as familiar as... well, as familiar as... He struggled for a simile. It was pretty familiar, anyway. He'd had to dig through a thin layer of snow before reaching the actual substance for the hole -if a hole could be said to have substance- and he felt his paws going slowly numb, so he cherished that sensation while he still had it. The feeling of the cold dirt under his nails was a feeling that you got from all facets of life: dirt, burials, hunting --even just regular chores around the camp involved burying something you didn't want found. But Rivershadow's thoughts kept stumbling back to last night, the reason for the cobweb on his face and indirectly the reason he had been late. How ironic: if last night hadn't happened, he wouldn't be late, but he also wouldn't have had to be there in the first place.

Avoidance of the main subject worked well. He was good at living in the present; tried to block out the wondering that tried to find a way into the future, to somehow make a blind prediction that would make sure he didn't put a step wrong and tread on someone's heartstrings again. Such was the trouble with living in a clan. There wasn't a point at which you could up and leave the people you'd hurt: you had to live with it. And Rivershadow was trying his best to keep not caring about both of those things.

But why was he thinking about this now? For moons he'd been... perhaps 'happy' wasn't quite the right word, but he'd been... Content. It had been a comfortable rut, like hole that was slowly growing under his diligent paws, and he kept finding himself coming back to last night. What had she said? 'You had two chances.'
Two chances. Two she-cats. Both of whom had come to him rather than the other way around. Being in the same clan meant that he knew her history as well as she must know his -- even when your paths never crossed, it was hard to escape growing up with someone.
He brushed the moss into the hole and looked at it for a moment as it sat there, like the milky pupil of some ancient eye. It examined him with the same faded detachment that his father had; the unpleasant remembrance that he wasn't an apprentice any more, and life wasn't as easy as doing as you were told.

He was able to put off the idea of going back into the den for a while: it was a deep hole, dug for more moss that was probably coming, and the he had to go and find the new stuff. That managed to occupy his thoughts. Then he shook the feeling back into his paws and tried to find moss. Hunting around for the irritating balls of fluff, he heard the dawn patrols returning to camp. Some had prey, some did not: such was the glory of winter. The moss was proving especially elusive: under all this snow, under all this wetness, it would probably be soaked through by the time he got it back. That was the last thing the elders needed --bringing chill into their old bones would get him a solid number of Frown Points.

Moss. Moss. Why was this stuff so hard to find? He brushed off branches and checked under trunks, examined old logs and found something fluffy at one stage that turned out to be a fungus. Frustration was beginning to set in, but at least the familiar anger kept him relatively warm. Having a thin coat in leafbare was entirely unpleasant, and he could only hope that his winter fur finally got its act together and started to set in soon. Otherwise, that little tickle in his nose was going to become a cold quite rapidly.
He was almost ready to give up on the moss when -ta da!- he trod on something springy. His numb paws couldn't tell him whether it was soft or not, but that was good enough for him. He shovelled the snow aside in great lumps and, sure enough, there was the patchy remnant of last season's moss. Ignoring his stomach, which had taken the opportunity to start growling again, Rivershadow heaved a sigh of relief and started to shovel out the moss with his large paws. Ah, this was a good haul. He could make at least two nests with this much moss! Now the trouble lay in getting it all home again. He settled for bundling the lot into his mouth and trotted back to camp, thinking as Rivershadow did: in the present. He was too glad to be back in the warmth of the elders' den (surprisingly) to think about what he was going to say to Spottedwing.
Dropping the moss near the wall of the den, he said (with the slightest note of warmth creeping into his voice), "one full order of moss!" and then remembered that he wasn't allowed even that small sliver of light relief. 'Rats.' He bundled the good-humour away before it could make any protest and began gingerly organising some moss into a few nests.

He was suddenly aware of Arcticbreeze's eyes on him, and felt a familiar chill course through him. Not just because of the emptiness that he always felt in her stare, but --well, she hadn't been named 'Arctic' for nothing. Suddenly, it was as if he was a kit all over again --but not a kit he remembered being. As a kit he'd loved his mother well enough, but now he felt something he'd never received from her: the aura of command. But, all in all, her efforts were -though perplexing- easily ignored. She could stare at his back all she wanted. But now he wanted to know what Spottedwing had been talking about before he came in --he hadn't missed that expression.

[Seafeather]

Spottedwing

"One full order of moss!" Rivershadow announced as he loped the giant moss ball into the den. Spottedwing hurriedly began to spread the moss with him. She used her claws to shred the moss and make it softer. Her own special way that she makes her own nest. She left Rivershadow to go to Smokeleaf's den to receive the horrid mouse bile that she needed for the elder's ticks.

"Rivershadow, when you're done, can you start to crack the elder's flea's? It would be a great help! The more we each do the quicker it gets done. I just have to go get mouse bile, and then clear the elder's ticks and we can be done." She hurried to get it all out. Afraid that he would start shouting accusations at her that she wasn't doing. It was almost sun high, and they were almost done. This was certainly going quicker than Spottedwing ever imagined. Well...she also imagined a harsh silence between the two, but that didn't seem to be the case.

She paced over to Smokeleaf's den and found her sitting with Emberpaw reciting some herbs. Either the unclaimed apprentice was helping her look for herbs, or she was to be the new medicine cat in the future. "Smokeleaf? Do you have some mouse bile for the elders?" Spottedwing kept her head low, hoping to escape from the stare of the old she-cat. She knew what would be in her eyes. A sort of laughter, not making fun, but just irony. She looked up to her and instead found a dull pain behind her eyes. As if something was wrong. She waited for Smokeleaf to get the bile before she asked any questions.

[fαllεη •]

((OOC: Sorry if I confused you, Sea D: This thread is supposed to be happening pretty much simultaneously with Emberpaw's Question, so technically Emberpaw and Smokeleaf are still by the dead pine; sorry for the misunderstanding!))

[Seafeather]

OCC: It's okay ^^ I'll just wait for you to finish that thread!

[fαllεη •]

(OOC: You don't have to, though ^^; I'll introduce Smokeleaf here when the thread ends there, so in this thread she has to be out of camp for now, that's all ^^;)

[Seafeather]

Spottedwing

Spottedwing was stomping back outside of the medicine den. Smokeleaf wasn't there. Normally, the grouchy she-cat was stuck up inside her den which is one of the reasons for her grouchyness. So, maybe, she would be in a better mood when she gets back. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen Emberpaw in a while either.

Spottedwing came back inside the elder's den and began to crack away on their fleas. She ignored Rivershadow so she could finish the most disgusting job in peace. She found one, cracked it, then searched for more. Thankfully there were very few on this elder. She worked on the next one. Cat after cat began filled less and less with fleas. Looks like they were sharing their fleas.

Spottedwing sat down in the middle of the den and waited for Rivershadow to finish. They would have to wait a while until Smokeleaf got back to finish the job. She rested her head on her paws and asked the elders for a story. If they took the punishment like apprentices might as well go with the theme.

[fαllεη •]

note: the story isn't actually intended to be relevant; Arcticbreeze is just telling her favourite story. XD Also, feel free to have Spottedwing offer to help Rivershadow with his fleas! XD

you were standing in the wake of devastation
and you were waiting on the edge of the unknown
and with the cataclysm raining down
insides crying save me now
you were there, impossibly alone

Admittedly, there were few things that Rivershadow didn't like. He'd always been pretty ambivalent when these things showed up but inside, part of him was, to use the vernacular, 'grossing out'.
It was like that when tics were involved.
There was just something about the smug little round bodies that (and he would never, not even to save his own life, admit this) made his insides turn. But, of course, he'd get over it: there was nothing worse than a tom that couldn't hold his fear in, and Rivershadow would never be that tom.

As he finished his last nest, he heard Spottedwing return and felt a tightening in his chest. 'Keep it in.' Being tongue-tied around the she-cat who'd given him matching claw-marks across his ego ranked lower than showing his disgust, though. He stepped back to let one of the elders claim the nest, and then joined Spottedwing in cracking the fleas.

Why did it always seem as if she was so much better at everything than him? She was done in moments; he still had forever to go. Her sleek fur nestled among the dirtied fur of the elders, sticking out like a bird in a pond. His tongue rasped over his father's coat, helping him out with the hard-to-reach grooming places, just as he'd always done on punishment duty. A black shape appeared for a moment; one snap and the wretched thing was history. There would be more next time (there always were) and he'd have to give himself a thorough wash afterwards. He was seized by the oddest desire to give Spottedwing a heads-up, but caught himself just in time. She knew everthing; of course she'd know to give herself a once-over. She probably gave herself a thorough wash every night. She probably deserved a few fleas, too-- she'd certainly put one in his ear.

Nevertheless, he found the words forming on his tongue, a curt reminder ready to be released, just as she spoke in that lyrical voice... Wait a second. He shook himself mentally. Clearly he hadn't gotten enough sleep last night... Wait, of course he hadn't: the world's nosiest deputy had decided to interrupt him on his way to his favourite napping spot.
There. That was Longfang cleared; on to Arcticbreeze. Rivershadow was about to trot over to her when she rose of her own accord --a little shakily, too-- and settled herself down opposite Spottedwing. He suppressed a sigh and got up to follow her, catching her eye and making a vague gesture to her back. The amused expression in her eyes surprised him. She looked almost... Smug. Smug in a fragile, bird-with-a-broken-wing kind of way.
As he started on her fleas (and wow, did they stand out against her fur!), he listened as she began her tale.
"Well, dearie, I've got just the story for you. You see, it's all about this rambunctious little grey kitten..."
Rivershadow coloured under his fur. He recognised that tone. "Mother!"
"So touchy, darling! Who said I was talking about you?" Her cold eyes sparkled with laughter. "Now, where was I?"

She launched into a story about the little grey warrior, his white-furred brother and black-furred sister, and how the three of them had each plotted to take something from the heavens. It all begins with the grey tom being frightfully lazy. He's rude to a lovely young she-cat, and his siblings apologise and steer him away. They get to talking about how hard life is and what they would be if they could. The white tom-kit longed to be brave like the sun's rays; the black she-cat wanted the moon's glow of knowledge in her dull eyes, and the little grey tom? He wanted a star to hang on his tail. Although Rivershadow might know the point of the story (this was one of Arcticbreeze's favourites to tell his brothers as kits), it always made him want to ask what sane tom would want a light on the end of his tail.
Anyway, the three warriors snuck out of camp one day (big surprise!) and travelled to the Moonstone. On the way, they encountered a huge fox, who could speak their language and demanded to know why they wanted to pass.
"To help my clan!" answered the white tom, and he was allowed to pass.
"To aid the troubled!" the black she-cat replied, and she was also allowed to pass.
But the grey tom answered, "To be the most handsome!" and the fox at once seized upon him. He was just about to be killed by the fox when his siblings, hearing his cries for help, returned and leaped on his back, worrying him and tearing at his throat until he was dead. The grey tom was unharmed, but his siblings suffered deep wounds; the she-cat's eye had been taken, and the tom had lost most of his tail. The tom found poppy-seeds to ease most of the pain, and the she-cat found cobweb to stem the bleeding, but the grey tom just skipped around, asking why they couldn't heal and walk.
Blah blah blah, this happens twice more with a badger and rogues. She-cat goes blind, tom loses one of his legs. Blah blah, cats finally get to the Moonstone.
The grey cat lies down between his siblings, but things finally start to click inside the idiot's head: what if (gasp!) he shouldn't ask StarClan to become pretty? So, while his siblings ask for their gifts in their own dreams, grey cat is alone with StarClan and finally gets the message: guess what, dude? You totally broke your littermates' faces! So, instead of going for personal gain, he asks to undo the damage to them that was done on this trip. Clearly things were much more dangerous in those days, and StarClan was more willing to give people free stuff. So the sister gets her knowledge and is made beautiful, while the tom becomes frightfully brave and handsome. Grey tom is awed by his new siblings and escorts them back to the clan, fighting off whatever dastardly creatures they meet single-pawed. He hunts for them and, while they have their deep discussions, he builds nests and does all the mundane stuff like that. When they finally get back to camp, the grey tom is so humbled by his siblings that he stands back and lets them take all the glory. But, of course, one special she-cat has noticed that he doesn't seem the same as before. She realises that he's now a kinder, humble tom. The two fall in love; grey tom gets a mate. Happy endings all around.

Rivershadow didn't realise that he was being bitten until Arcticbreeze concluded her story; he had just manage to finish clearing the last elder when he felt a twinge behind his ear. Oh man!' Typical. He settled down and scratched for all he was worth: anything to dislodge that revolting black speck. He was covered in fleas now, probably.

[Seafeather]

Do you feel cold, and lost in desperation?
You build up hope, but failure’s all you’ve known.
Remember all the sadness and frustration,
And let it go…Let it Go.

Spottedwing

Spottedwing listened to Arcticbreeze's story. It had a moral to it. Don't be selfish and vain...be humble and thankful. She settled more in the new nests. She's rolled in Basil that morning so the fleas would stay away. So she had no problem by being with the elders. But Rivershadow didn't seem to be having such a great time. He squirmed around where he sat, stratching the daylights out of his ear. Spottedwing turned upside down in her head. She had the decency to help him out. But did he have the decency to accept her help? Step down from his pride and into humbleness?

Spottedwing scooted herself over to Rivershadow and pawed at his ear. She divided the fur, searching for the annoying flea. Eventually, the fat black body of it came into view, she dove in and cracked the flea. Happy with her work, she leaned back.

"Sorry," She muttered before he could yell at her.

OOC: Hey! Put his verse up there at the top of your post!! XD I have mine up there because your's was. lol!

[fαllεη •]

you were standing in the wake of devastation
and you were waiting on the edge of the unknown
and with the cataclysm raining down
insides crying save me now
you were there, impossibly alone

He didn't have any time to protest before she came bearing down on him, blindsiding him. She was attacking him again! But there was no time to get out of the way; her teeth were coming at his ear: they were going to close and then he'd have more than one scratch for his pains. But the horror on his face faded as he heard the crunch of a flea behind his ear.

She'd just gotten the flea for him.

The colour rushing to his face should've made his ears as bright red as a fresh strawberry as he turned away, trying to hide his embarrassment. Of course she hadn't been after him; the very idea was laughable. Supposedly, she loved him: that had to count for a lot of not-killing someone, right?

"Sorry."
The word sounded clipped. He risked a sidelong glance at her, the neat curve of her face. She didn't seem angry. And his ear, while it would still itch for a while, felt much nicer without the bloodsucking threat hanging over it. He wiped the astonishment of his face and nodded to her, the faintest trace of gratitude coming through the gesture.
"Um... Thanks," he meowed, unwilling or unable to say more. She'd removed a flea. It had been nice. He scrambled for something to say. "So, I guess we should--"
The scent of mousebile, putrid and sharp, stung his nostrils, just as a grey shape blocked the light coming into the den.
He wouldn't have been able to recognise the underlying scent, but the mews of welcome from the elders told him exactly who it was.
"'Morning, Arcticbreeze, Longfang... Spottedwing?"
Rivershadow turned his head away for the second time, tail lashing gently. He and the medicine cat weren't on friendly terms, even if she had patched up up his face. "Good to see you're as handsome as ever, Rivershadow."
Oh, now that was sarcasm. And it hurt.

If Rivershadow had been paying attention after that point, he would've noticed that Smokeleaf rolled her eyes at him and offered Spottedwing a good-natured grimace, as if to say 'toms, huh? Glad I don't need one!'
"You two can run along now," Smokeleaf grinned, glancing at the door. "I should have help coming soon."

[Seafeather]

Do you feel cold, and lost in desperation?
You build up hope, but failure’s all you’ve known.
Remember all the sadness and frustration,
And let it go…Let it Go.

Spottedwing

"Um... Thanks," Rivershadow said after a face of astonishment. Thanks was barely in his vocabulary. Spottedwing would take it gratefully.

"You're welcome." She said. No air of superiority in her voice at all. She didn't want to make matters worse. She knew she was better at finding fleas. Most of the she-cats were.

"So, I guess we should--" Rivershadow began as Smokeleaf padded into the already cramped den, saying her hello's. She was a tad surprise to see Spottedwing here, her ears burned with embarrassment. After a sarcastic remark, Smokeleaf gave Spottedwing an apologetic/thankful grimace. Sorry for Spottedwing that she had to be with this tom, but thankful because she would never need one. Spottedwing smiled. Smokeleaf had a sense of humor alright. Maybe it was a little snarky and sarcastic, but it was humor all the same.

Smokeleaf said they could go, and Spottedwing left without further comment. She was glad to get out of there. The smell of mouse bile would soon fill up the whole den, and no one wanted to be around that. Spottedwing debated in her mind on what to do. She saw Rivershadow standing there like a lost kit. Not really knowing what to do. She was going to be the grown warrior in this duo.

"Hey...um Rivershadow?" She began. Anxiousness crept into her belly. Making it squirm with butterflies. "I think an apology is in order...on my part. Come take a walk with me?" Spottedwing waited for his answer. Hopefully the comment came out like a question instead of a demand. She wouldn't make matters worse. Other cats seemed to think that she thought of herself as high. But she didn't. She was just an ordinary warrior and it hurt her feelings for others to think that was about her. Rivershadow was one of them. But her emotions were in control, no tears would escape her eyes today.

[fαllεη •]

you were standing in the wake of devastation
and you were waiting on the edge of the unknown
and with the cataclysm raining down
insides crying save me now
you were there, impossibly alone

Like some kind of brainless kit, Rivershadow found himself trailing after Spottedwing and out of the den-- but not before observing an expression of surprised amusement on behalf of the medicine cat, who bared her teeth teasingly at him when she realised he'd noticed.

Outside! The scent of mousebile was finally gone, and he took a deep breath of the pine-scented air. It was a brief respite from the pressure of being anywhere near Spottedwing. Thank goodness that that was over. Arcticbreeze just seemed to have it in for him.
He stared blankly into space for a moment. How could he get away? Her company hadn't been that bad, but now he was able to go out. Chase butterflies if he wanted. Kill mice if he desired. No pressure from her, from the clan; not even from Seastar.
Never had freedom tasted so sweet.

"Hey... um, Rivershadow?" Uh-oh. Was it just him, or did he recognise the expression in those blue eyes? Last night was too fresh in both their memories for her to try that again, surely? She'd clearly never heard of friendship before romance. Seriously: Seastar would never have stood for Spottedwing stooping to his level; he couldn't even claim the role of 'clan rebel'-- he was just too soft. Which, of course, was another thing he'd never admit.
"I think an apology is in order...on my part. Come take a walk with me?"
Was that an order or a request? Either way, he felt like saying no. Things had been just fine before last night: why keep going back to it? Well, probably because she wanted to. It was his choice, right? He could back out in the end if things got... weird.
"Um..." What was he, three? Spit it out! "Sure thing. Lead the way!"