Quote:
Originally Posted by Ryder
A gentle hum came from the tall warrior as he lifted his head to look up at the sky that poked through the trees above him, the warm carcass of the shrew still hanging in his jaws while he did this. However, the nearby sound of a sudden voice made his ears perk up with alert and surprise as he swung his head around to lock eyes onto an orange-and-white pelt of another cat, which made him turn swiftly on his paws to face the unknown feline. His assumptions were proved wrong though when he recognized this cat, who was Firefall, the Thunderclan tom that been the one he saved from the clutches of that nasty Windclan warrior whose name had slipped his mind. Flintheart’s fur settled as he relaxed his form and rested the small body of prey between his paws as he looked upon the other warrior now with his tail swishing behind him contently. “Hello there, Firefall. It’s certainly been awhile since I’ve seen you.” He spoke with a deepened, mature tone and even though it had only been a moon since that Gathering battle, it had felt like ages since the event had actually happened, “I do hope those wounds of yours have healed up nicely, I’ve achieved my own set of scars.” The Burmilla said, mentioning the scar along the right side of his face that was as clear as day to anyone who looked his way. It seemed like the male was rambling on, so he dipped his head in apologies. “Ah, it seems I’ve grown used to talking on for so long after being with my apprentice with so many moons. He’s a warrior now, you know, and I couldn’t be more proud of Ebonystrike.” Flintheart remarked and then realized that he was beginning to talk too much again, “So, what brings you to this neck of the hunting grounds? I do hope that I did not interrupt your hunting, if that is the case,” He nudged the limp shrew with one paw to emphasize what he meant. After training his student for so long, he was so used to being more social, but it also felt somewhat weird in a sense of speaking to another Thunderclan warrior after being on his own with his thoughts for as long as he could remember. Nonetheless, perhaps a conversation with a clanmate now and then would do him good, keeping him from losing himself into depression or something along those lines.
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Firefall froze, blinking with a tiny swallow of fear. He’d been spotted. His ginger-and white pelt fluffed more than it was, and judging by how soft-looking he already appeared with his ginger and white pelt being fluffy, and his wide amber eyes, he looked unthreatening and fluffy..er. He sometimes despised his soft fur, but then again, it was nice in leafbare. It kept him warm, after all, so it served its purpose. He realized he probably looked creepy, standing silently, so tried to find the right words, scouring his brain for a coherent sentence. Flintheart seemed to recognize him, which made him slightly relax. At least he wasn’t forgotten by the striking burmilla tom. His eartips grew hot at the odd thought, but he forced his face to remain..calmish. -Ish being the key. His amber eyes were big, frozen, and his fur was still not totally smoothed, but he wasn’t frozen with shock. Of course the tom would be hunting, he seemed loyal. He’d saved him after all. Realizing he was talking, an awkward smile formed on Firefall’s lips. “Y-Yeah. Since the..y’know,” he couldn’t bring himself to totally bring up the battle..the one he’d almost died in. He sounded more matured, and so did Firefall, kind of, he was still stuttering like a flustered apprentice. “Oh, yeah, t-they actually healed nice,” he mewed. They were noticeable, however. A large nick in his ears, a tiny limp, and scars across his shoulders and a slash on his muzzle, but otherwise, he was mostly fine. The limp didn’t hinder him, and nothing really hurt. He felt a tiny pang of guilt, seeing his scar, but he reminded himself he’d probably be told it wasn’t his fault. Firefall shuffled his paws slightly, glancing around them at the forest. He didn’t want to fight, or bring up a fight soon to come. The tom swished his tail, a tiny smile still on his face, faltering slightly. “Oh! Right, I saw his ceremony. He seems like a very nice young cat, i’m sure he’ll be a great warrior.” He mewed. He and the pure black warrior hadn’t spoken much. He remembered that he was Ebonypaw at the battle, and now he was a warrior. He’d make an effort to try and talk to him a bit more. “Huh? I-I was hunting and I heard a noise, and I guess I let my curiosity get the best of me.” He mewed, giving a tiny shrug. Firefall noted his food wouldn’t turn rotten after a bit of chatting with a..friend? Clanmate? Whatever he could consider Flintheart as.