[Brilliance]

Originally Posted by Owl

Cleo flicked her ears allowing the tom to spout out whatever he desired, not giving him the satisfaction of 'winning.' She gave him an innocent look saying she really only wanted to get something to drink. She, of course, would have hunted on RiverClan territory, had it not been for him ruining her chance. However, Cleo was momentarily surprised that the tom, she guessed was RiverClan, said something in a language she didn't understand, turned hastily and grabbed the salmon he had just caught. Returning to stand in front of her and laying the fish at her paws, Cleo stared at it, eyes widened. She didn't know what to do. She never in her life, thought a clan cat would be so willing to help her. The spotted molly didn't know whether to feel grateful or offended for being helped by clan cat.

Normally, Cleo would feel angry and offended, she could normally take care of herself. The feline leaned down, eyes watching the tom careful, suspicious laced her unreadable expression. She sniffed the fish and immediately recoiled turning to gag away from the tom. "Oh, it smells horrid..." The feline turned back around poking the fish with her paw. Her throat felt like it was closing in on itself. "Are you sure this is safe to eat!?" She asked, giving him a look of confusion as to why any cat would want to even dare eat such a morsel. But then, Cleo froze. Her eyes glazed over at remembering she had to eat crow food and bugs and anything that was considered food to survive, both as a kit and now. She suddenly felt helpless and hopeless, a haunted, hurt expression momentarily settled on her face. However, it was soon gone. "Okay, Clan cat. I will accept your offering of food...though I'm not sure it'll save me from my sealed fate." She grumbled, stepping forward. She leaned down, tempted to recoil once more, but didn't. Opening her jaws, her teeth much sharper look than one would expect, this was due to her being a part of DS and chewing bones to sharpen them, she took a dainty bite. Chewing it, the she-cat's eyes widened. It was actually pretty good! Either her hunger was kicking in and it tasted a lot better than it should or it was actually good.

Maybe just a little bit of pride settled on his features when he set down that fish and expected her to eat it. Until, in reality, the she cat began picking around it, souring his pride (maybe even his ego), making him gasp as if she clawed his heart out. She might as well had if she insulted the most delicious prey in the forest. If Chestnutsplash had to love anything more than fish, it would have to been leche. Which was seldom, as in minimum to none at all to find. He vividly remembered the day he tasted warm leche, persuaded by a pretty kittypet when he strayed too far into twolegplace...not a story that his clan mates needed to know. Not now. Not ever. His expression morphed into one of being offended. “Why wouldn’t it be safe to eat?” He shook his head, stating his annoyance. To think he felt bad for this she cat that could do more with just a little food. In his defense, he didn’t think he would had crossed her path! “I don’t think you have the choice, Senorita.” Chestnutsplash huffed. He sat down, mocking her move from earlier; drawing up a paw to lick it then rub it on top of his head.

She dipped in to nimble on it. Chestnutsplash watched with genuine curiosity. “For you not to like it, you sure are tearing through it like it’s the best thing you ever tasted,” cue that smug grin attaching itself onto his ginger features. Chestnutsplash was a pretty proud warrior of Riverclan, and he did not like his clan or any of its attributes or practices to be undermined. He observed with keen interest the way she ate, far different than his own eating habits. She didn’t gulp down the entire fish (like he did often) instead she took dainty bites, almost appearing that she may be savoring the taste of the food. She mustn’t have eaten in a long time...Chestnutsplash concluded, taking notice of her skinny figure. In Chestnutsplash’s opinion, she looked like she deserved that fish more than any other cat in Riverclan. Evidently, Chestnutsplash wasn’t a heartless cat. Quite the contrary! He was more of the goofy tom that could sweep a lady off her paws without intentionally. This also contradicts with the fact that he have been known to been the type ‘Love them then leave them’ all that aside, he didn’t like it when seeing others hurt. It was just a sight that made him tender. Call him sensitive if you please! He solely believed that he saved this she cat from her supposed ‘sealed fate’ despite her lack of appreciativeness. With that longing in his mind, he wondered which clan she cane from. She took to being defensive when he wanted her to state her name. Maybe it had been partly his fault for being so rash. Yet, this was his territory and as a faithful clan cat, he wanted to protect it. “Where you come from anyway?” He asked, stepping closer to the she cat, and leaning his muzzle down to sniff at her. Most certainly that lingering scent of honey and lillies. “You don’t look as if you could be in any other clan - unless you were...exiled,” his whiskers wiggled, but he didn’t want that to be out the equation. He knew some cats who head was too big for their body in comparison, but she didn’t appear to be that breed of cat with a fine, naturally slender form that was slightly askewed from lack of nutrients, and her creamy dappled coat that held the stripes of a tiger and the spots of a leopard. Her coat still looked clean, a pretty color in his eyes. Chestnutsplash held back though. He saw those sharp teeth...it didn’t deter him from trying to nose his way into her business, however.