Quote:
Originally Posted by Gusty
(To the territory, I guess?)
Blizzardfoot cringed a little bit inside at the tom's comments. Who exactly was this warrior? Or a better question- why was he speaking like that? Her insides were a mixture of awe and curiosity; it wasn't the tom itself that was striking, but his words. The mixture of slight sarcasm and reality was defeating. His words didn't even seem one hundred percent normal. The molly wasn't sure why.
She decided that it might just be a morning issue. Or perhaps it was simply his odd personality, or to attract more attention to himself- the latter was certainly working. Blizzardfoot could handle that, she supposed. The brown-and-white pelted tom was just like everyone else, but unique in a couple of ways. And anyways, I shouldn't be judging. It's better for my curiousity to be silenced.
"Yeah, let's go now." The molly finally said, nodding her head up and down. She shook out her pelt- which was still ridiculously messy, even the tom had noticed- and stood up. Front feet first, back paws next. Ah.
Her mouth opened again and more words spilled out. It was a question that she'd been wondering for a short while now. "By the way, I forgot your name. What is it?" She said, furrowing her brow. The tom most likely wouldn't take offense because of this question, being that they've only met a couple of times total, but her just saying it aloud was enough to make her cringe. His name was somewhere in the back of her mind, lingering and lurking in a corner that'd not be found until he answered.
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Stoatfang was indeed one of the strangest toms to have lived in Riverclan and he confused and agitated a good many of cat that lived here so it wasn't particularly surprising that Blizzardfoot was confused about him and his way of speech and just him in general, in fact, it was quite expected. Though what was strange is that she was actually curious as to why, most simply got annoyed and went about ignoring him, not that he really cared, he'd simply move on to the next cat, flaunting and joking as he did, it gave him the attention he believe he deserved.
The brown and white tabby tom looked over his shoulder as he waited for her at the end of the entrance, his paws placed in the territory, a glimmer of impatience quivering through him but he kept it under control as he waited for the she-cat to follow suite. He had to remember that it hadn't been too long since the other warrior woke up.
Her question sent a shock of anger through him and he clenched his jaws shut, closing his eyes momentarily. How could she not know who he was? He was one of the best cats in Riverclan and she didn't even know his name! Cool it Stoatfang, just cool it. Hissing out a quiet, slow exhale, he slowly opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder again, more eager to get into the territory to show off his hunting skills than stand around chatting. "The name is Stoatfang." meowed the tom simply enough with a flick of his tail and began to eagerly pad into the territory. "I mean, I know I look good, but I didn't think I looked so good it could make cats forget my name!" he snorted out.