Quote:
Originally Posted by Owl
Cleo eyed the tom carefully, enjoying the fact he took a step back at her low warning growl. The tom should have known better, don't get too close to a hungry feline while they are eating. She was, of course, grateful the cat supplied her with the fish. But did she ask for it? No, she merely explained her situation, hungry and dehydrated. The ginger tom took it upon himself to share his prey that he had quite a time catching. Feeling the warmth in her stomach, her body felt energized.
"Done for? What do you think you clan cats killed us all off?" She snorted, a sudden burst of anger coursed through her veins. Her ears flattened and she had to take a deep breath to calm herself, averting her eyes from the tom in front of her. The life she lived before, during, and even after the Syndicate wasn't a walk in the park. Being a part of the Syndicate meant never truly trusting another, never truly feeling a part of something, never truly able to show one's true self in fear it will be seen as weakness. Cleo, herself, during the time in Syndicate, had voided all of her feelings. Then she thought about the tom's words. Done for... Sighing the spotted molly looked back at Chesnutsplash. "Yes, Cleo is my name. Unlike you clan cats, I have one singular name. I maybe would have had a clan..." The she-cat trailed off realizing she was about to tell him basically her life story. That was a no-no-no. She couldn't do that. That would make her seem vulnerable, weak, aggressive, you name it. Yes, she hated the fact the clans denied her when she was a kit but here was a clan cat offering help. She couldn't blame him.
Then her eyes, which tried so hard to hide the emotions that she was feeling, failed her. A look of a feline who had been through difficult times. "Yes...life is hard...but I manage." She replied somberly as she once again averted her eyes, casting a long glance at the river.
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Chestnutsplash must had chose a wrong time to laugh because that’s exactly what he did. Especially since the female looked ready to claw his ears and eyes out and save the tiny bones for a souvenir. For him, this was death’s wish. When he flashed hisbeyes to look at her stoic expression, he shut his yap. She definitely wasn’t humored by this. Clearing his throat, he said,
“Might as well had.” He snorted.
“For you all to be in the syndicate, you sure are pathetic fighters.” He mused, a little arrogant. Chestnutsplash didn’t know much of anything about the Syndicate. He knew they were a group of cats who didn’t believe in Starclan...what cat didn’t believe in Starclan!? Chestnutsplash found that to be an atrocious crime! He also heard stories about how they were tough, heartless, ruthless...but Chestnutsplash hardly believed any of this. No cat was ever that heartless...or, soulless. No matter how much they tried to save for appearance. The ferociousness that Cleo was displaying humored, yet challenged Chestnutsplash.
Chestnutsplash still found Cleo’s name a bit far fetched since he was entirely used to the warrior code. Dusk Syndicate cats, loners, rogues; they all carried a singular name. Chestnutsplash didn’t want to seem rude, but thought since she shared her introduction first, he might as well get to know her...or, maybe he’d leave her wondering. Just because she told him her name, didn’t mean he had to play by the same rules. Chestnutsplash stood to his paws, stretching himself into a feline posture,
“It’s a warriors name. But, you wouldn’t know much of that since you’re not a clan cat,” he stated, proudly. A cat who wasn’t born in the clan wouldn’t understand the specialty of gaining a warrior name. Her following words sparked interest to the tom’s ears.
“You would have a clan...if what?” He asked, tilting his head to the side in a genuine curious manner. She stopped immediately, trailing off so Chestnutsplash wondered if she were in deep thought.
Call him sappy, but Chestnutsplash couldn’t deny anyone in help. He just didn’t know whether he should trust an ex-DS cat. What if she was planning on taking over the clans? What if he was a pawn in her madness? Albeit, he studied the elegant way her head turned to glance at the flowing river.
“Yeah...I can’t imagine.” He blinked at her, but she wasn’t looking at him. With her attention distracted, Chestnutsplash took the chance to scooch closer to the spotted Molly, sneaking his tail around her form,
“Maybe...maybe I could teach you to fish.” He suggested. It was stupid to announce that to a non clan cat, but what was the harm in her knowing a fast outcome to food? It wasn’t like he was teaching her battle moves anyway.
“Sí? Would you like to spend more time with me?” The tom’s whiskers wiggled, his tone a heavy accent of Spanish descent, as he acted suave as much as possible. Which wasn’t too hard for him; it came natural!