Why am I telling her all of this? She doesn't need to know about it, no one needs to know about it, it's foolish. Stick to your job, you're just here to teach her what she needs to know to become a warrior, not pour all of your secrets and everything out onto her. Besides, by doing this, you're just letting a cat into your life, it's only going to get you hurt, they'll use all of it against you to destroy you. A somber look started to darken his face as they walked along, his jaws clenching tightly together as he thought about this. You've never liked other cats so why are you starting to do that now? This is stupid and you need to stop.
His ears swiveled slightly as he heard her response to him telling her about his mom and the fact that he never knew her, his face seeming to soften slightly before he forced himself to look away and back forward, tempted to say something, but simply letting the conversation drop.
I might not know who she is, what she does, where she's at, but she knows me, she named me, she loved me. But I can't find myself to love her. She left me. She left Shadowclan. How could I bring myself to love a cat that I never got to know? One that left the clan, left her family? A snort of anger escapes him and he almost seems to glare for a moment until he slipped back into that stony mask that he wore, blocking any sort of thoughts and emotions that dwelled beneath it.
Nonetheless, silence ensued before eventually being broken again by the apprentice, asking about his mentor, rousing him from his thoughts once more in order to answer her. Despite him mentally berating himself for it, he just couldn't bring himself from stopping himself to answer her questions, even if he hated the fact that he was opening up, exposing himself in a way.
And so he had answered and a bit of silence fell between them, surely Sweetpaw thinking it over, whatever it is she decided to pick out of his answer, he was mostly trying to block it out, the idea that she was nitpicking and processing everything he said, he didn't like it. He didn't like the thought of another cat analyzing him like that, he just didn't like it, and yet he felt like every cat did that, they all judged him and that further led to his general dislike for others and his desire to be alone most of the time.
His ears flatten as he hears her reply and his head turned slightly, his yellow eyes harsh as he almost seemed to glare at her for a long moment before turning his head away again. You shouldn't even answer her, just let silence fall. You don't socialize with other cats, shouldn't that be obvious? Shut up.
Snorting again, he shook his head a bit to clear his thoughts before bellowing out a quiet sigh and flashing a glance over at her.
"Look, Sweetpaw, I can't just socialize with other cats. That's not me, you know why? Because I don't like other cats. They're too slippery, too judgmental, and too ready to kill those that are weaker than them. I don't like other cats, I never have. So it was just for the better that we didn't socialize a whole lot, alright?" His voice was harsh, but it was unintended and he immediately regretted it, blinking and looking over at her apologetically. "Er.. Sorry." Heaving out a breath, he shook his head again and looked back forward. And I'm just not good at talking with cats either.
All Sweetpaw received in response to her comment was a small grunt, his ears flicking a bit and his gaze drifting over to look at Thunderclan territory as they padded along the border. Ibisprowl wasn't the best tom with comedy especially considering he always saw the worst in cats, always thought they were joking him, judging him, all sorts of negative things like that. He just couldn't take a joke, thus why most cats avoided him. Part of him was desiring for this training session to be over so he could just be alone again, this was draining him of his energy and he hated it.
"What do you mean?" Questioned the tom, allowing his gaze to momentarily rest on the young she-cat before looking back ahead, his white paws pressing into the frozen ground rhythmically as they moved along. To think they still had two borders to go until they could finally get back to camp, the thought of talking most of that time was nearly exhausting him just thinking about it. But with his stony mask, Sweetpaw wouldn't be able to tell that he was growing tired of talking, she wouldn't be able to tell if he was tired at all, he'd look just as normal as he did the second he took her out of camp to begin this little journey.