Obsidian looked at her questioningly when she smiled; what was she so happy about? Almost instinctively, his mind turned to suspicions...what did she want? What was she thinking? Did she think he was weird, or different? And what about her seeming so cheerful all the time? No one was that cheerful all the time! Except for her, he thought, partly admiringly and partly scornfully. The truth was, although it seemed crazy, Obsidian was somewhat jealous of Calia. She seemed to be such a great cat. And she had the type of life that she had spent constantly helping others...one of those cats who did nothing but smile and help, and be someone who could light up all her territory with a single smile. Just because she was so bright spirited. And then part of them was angry with himself, because all she wanted to do was help and all Obsidian knew how to do was hurt her, even though he wasn't meaning to. But it was too late-- he was way, way too far gone.
He couldn't be the type of cat that he was quickly beginning to think of as a 'Calia cat.' The least he could do was show her some respect on her territory, with her offering to help him. Right? "She's like a little ray of sunshine," The tom muttered to himself. It was the truth...the ginger female reminded him of a ray of sunshine... warm, bright, and it helped everyone-- even when they didn't know it. That only made the tom feel worse. Not only was he being helped by a cat whom he would probably forget all about as soon as he made his way on, but she was doing more then she needed to. All he needed was her permission to stay here, but she was offering him food, shelter, and even to check him for wounds. And although Obsidian wasn't hurt, if he had been, he probably wouldn't have let her-- which again, didn't make him feel any better. The tom cast her a curious glance as she bounded down beside the bridge instead of over it, but he followed anyways.
Who was he to question...whatever she was doing? She certainly must know what she was doing. Right? There was no way that she didn't. A cat who had been around for as long as she had...well, in this territory, at least. Calia looked to be about Obsidian's age, and Obsidian wasn't too old...perhaps a little older or younger then her, he wasn't sure. He glanced with disgust at the ratty-looking nest...though he tried to hide it, not wanting the she cat to feel bad. Obviously she had done the best she could to make this place comfortable. But then as she began to speak, his ears pricked up and he looked at her. When we're done? He thought, although he hid his amazement. What did she mean 'done?' What was she going to do to it-- or they, rather, since she had used the plural inferring that both she and Obsidian would be working on this nest. Though he wasn't normally polite, and didn't usualy keep his maw shut, the black tom did both this time.
Perhaps he felt he owed her more respect. When she mentioned the part about the water, the tom's hues grew wide. "That's amazing, sunshine!" He mewed, and then quickly clamped his maw shut. He hadn't meant to say anything. But he had already begun thinking of her like a little ray of sunshine, and the word had just sort of...slipped out, so to speak. Why hadn't he kept his maw shut? Obsidian felt so embarrassed he wished the ice would break now so he could jump in and never be seen-- or heard from-- again. "Sorry. I didn't mean to...I mean, you aren't...I wasn't..." He mewed, unable to finish his sentences. He wondered how come he had all of a sudden called her that. Perhaps she just had looked like a little ray of sunshine... he wished there was some explanation for it that didn't involve his stupidity, but just his luck-- there wasn't one. "That's fine." He mewed in a low voice, lowering his head as he followed after her, his ears pinned backwards.
He gave a simple nod to her question about the leaves, and sullenly began to gnaw at the stalks of the plants she had aforementioned. It seemed as though Obsidian was going back into his glum, guarded state...something that he knew he would probably regret later, but it was a natural response to anything that might happen to hurt him emotionally. If he allowed himself to attach himself to her with anything-- even as simple as a nickname-- he might find himself growing to actually like her. And then she would be the one to leave. No one wanted to stay with a cat like him. Something that he had learned long, long ago and something that he would continuously remember throughout his life was that until a cat proved they could be trusted-- through actions, not words-- until he truly came to believe them, trust them...he wouldn't let them close to him. He gathered up a mouthful of the plants, carrying them back towards the nest and shooting a pained look at the ginger feline. Though why, she wouldn't get to know...unfortunately.