Quote:
Originally Posted by Vortex
The big Maine coon smiled, then ducked his head and flattened the russet and white fur of his chest, feeling the purr deepen slightly. Triumph gleamed in his eyes as he looked back towards the rather unusual looking tom. He had to admit, Nighthawk was rather handsome. He snorted quietly at the thought, trying to push it away. It was meaningless, because he doubted that Nighthawk was like him. He was open about it, and didn't care about the scorn it earned him. Why should he? Flicking his tail, Stag sat up straighter and looked at Nighthawk for a moment, pushing the question to the back of his mind for another time, where it continued to nag at him.
He nodded, but said nothing in response. It wasn't really needed in this situation, and he enjoyed the since that the two had temporarily settled in to. It was a relaxed silence, without any noticeable tension. Or he didn't think so, but who knows. He did feel like something should be said, but he was unsure of what. He found talking to others quite easy a lot of the time. And now was no real exception to that. But, he wasn't quite sure what to say for a moment. Humming quietly to help him think, he looked around the camp. It was bustling with activity as usually.
The large, long furred warrior blinked when Nighthawk spoke first, rather surprised actually. He'd picked up that the other tom seemed rather quiet and unsure. He was happy though, and it seemed that so was Nighthawk. At least just a little bit. “I am, thank you,” he purred, dipping his head in thanks. “Hmm... moorhen would be nice, if there is any,” he decided after a moment. He did rather enjoy moorhen, that was for sure. It was possibly his favorite, at least for the time being. Who knows, maybe he'd find something he liked better one day.
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Nighthawk dipped his head, then went to make his way over to the fresh-kill pile. He enjoyed talking with Stagflight. He didn't feel the pressure to talk like he did with other cats. Night could take his time gathering his thoughts without feeling guilty or rushed. The silence between them was comfortable, amiable, even. Not awkward and heavy. Nightwing had arrived, and gently nosed through the pile, searching for the requested bird. He found one, much to his delight, and headed back over.
As he walked, he watched Stagflight rest comfortably, soaking in the sun. He certainly was a handsome tom... though Night pushed that thought into the back of his mind. He'd been hurt before when he confessed and was far from eager to repeat the experience. Besides, he'd only just met Stagflight today--he was jumping ahead of himself.
Friends first. He chided himself.
Friends first. You don't want to scare him away.
Nighthawk placed the moorhen between himself and the other tom, sitting down. "Here you are." He nudged the bird closer to Stagflight gently with his paw. He blinked slowly, blue eyes pleased. He was glad to do something for his new companion, and even more so to discover a little more about him. Night had forgotten how...fun it could be, to make new friends. If quiet conversation was your kind of fun. Nighthawk was surprised to find himself connecting so well with the louder, sociable, charismatic tom. They were opposites in all but size, but Night found he kind of enjoyed the subtle change of pace.