[Moonraven]

Originally Posted by Lonestar23

Mistyeyes hadn't been expecting Snowfrost to say anything else, half-thinking that their conversation might be over at this point, so she was pleasantly surprised when Snowfrost offered a description of her appearance. She'd asked for it, but she hadn't been so sure it would be offered, especially after the previous topic about Icestar's leadership. Gray pelt, blue eyes. It wasn't enough to paint a clear picture in Mistyeyes' mind; all she could see was a cat-shaped blob of gray with two blue dots. She'd been able to guess pelt-length from when she'd bumped into Snowfrost before; soft, probably not very long by the feel of it, but sort of.. comforting, Mistyeyes supposed. "Any scars? What about your build, like.. what does that look like?" She felt rude, asking so many questions, but Mistyeyes liked to at least get a sense of who she was talking to. It helped her to feel more normal, she supposed. She turned her head in Snowfrost's direction as if she could get a mental scan of the she-cat. So far, the other warrior had been kind and helpful to her; Mistyeyes was fairly confident that she wouldn't be pushed aside now. There was nothing wrong with asking for help, after all.

Once she was confident she would get some sort of an answer, she moved on to another conversation topic. After all, the topic of her sight was far from interesting, and she was pretty sure that Snowfrost would get bored quickly if she went into the logistics of how exactly her mind worked. Not to mention, the story of how she went blind. It was long, boring, and not her favorite story. "So, what do you usually do? When you're not conversing with your clanmates?" Mistyeyes wasn't sure how regular of an occurrence this was. Some cats weren't fans of talking to their clanmates regularly, while others hated going even a few moments without speaking to anyone. Both were understandable in their way, Mistyeyes supposed, although she preferred to keep close to a few good cats. As long as she liked them, there was nothing wrong with conversation.

She preferred to stay away from cats like Icestar most of the time, and while she had faith in the warrior's leadership (perhaps she wouldn't be perfect right from the start, but as she learned more, she should be a better leader), she doubted they would be close friends. That was okay. Mistyeyes didn't need everyone to like her, just a few cats that mattered. Right now, Icestar wasn't among those cats.

* * *

Oh, now he'd done it. Weird? She was weird? Regardless of whether the comment had been well-deserved or not, Forestpelt was furious. She hated being spoken to in that manner, and even if he'd apologized at this point, it wouldn't have mattered. She sat there and watched him walk away, momentarily stunned. That was before his insult came back to her, and she got to her paws, her frustration building. Whiteshadow may not have deserved this. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time; a place he was supposed to be, as all warriors were, but Forestpelt was upset and someone was going to have to pay for it. There was a small voice in the back of her head (a conscience she hadn't paid attention to in years) whispering that this was a bad idea, but she didn't listen. After all, why should she have?

"You have the nerve to call me weird?" So much for not causing a scene. The she-cat's voice raised to a new volume, angrier than before. She pinned her ears back against her head, her mind beginning to whisper louder that she was making a mistake. Forestpelt had caused scenes before. When she was younger, believe it or not, she'd been much worse. She'd been on everyone for every little thing, usually upset about something, with a personality that was near-impossible to like. Truth be told, Whiteshadow was taking this much better than most cats. Perhaps it was his age (not that Forestpelt was young herself, but unlike some cats, her temperament hadn't gotten better over the moons), or his personality had always been like that. She couldn't have known. She hadn't known him long ago.

"You know, I'm glad I met you. I'm going to make your life a living hell." She snapped, ears pinned back against her head. No wonder it was hard to like her. Then again, she hadn't had a real friend in a long time - for good reason. Forestpelt scanned over him quickly; too bad he wasn't ugly as well. Perhaps her standards had gotten lower over the moons. Once Dawnstorm had left her (she'd been different back then, so it wasn't because of her rude personality), she'd kind of lost any interest in other warriors. So perhaps it was her mind that was going, instead of her standards. That was, after all, the most likely option.

* * *

Birchpaw was surprised at her delighted smile after he'd said hello back to her. Was this some sort of outsider thing? He'd never seen a Clan-born cat look so happy over something like that, but on the other hand, it was kind of cute. Clan-born apprentices could get boring, after a while. Outsiders (while not his favorite thing), were exciting. They brought new stories with them, new experiences, and so many other things that Birchpaw would've liked to hear about. "You've got a nice smile," He commented, with a friendly smile of his own. Might as well use whatever charm he had with her while he still could. He wouldn't seem as friendly forever; at least, that was according to cats who'd gotten tired of him after what seemed like a short time.

Birchpaw nodded as he listened to her explaining her name. That made sense; although the word was foreign, he could understand her being small. "Well, there's nothing wrong with being smaller than average. You'll have to be careful in battle, that's all." Smaller cats always seemed nicer, to him. Anyone who had anything that wasn't average was bound to be interesting. Despite the dirty looks they might get from cats who weren't quite as open-minded, Birchpaw would've liked to have something more interesting about himself. Right now, the only exciting things he'd done were related to training. Then again, he supposed he would be a warrior before long, and that would open up a new world of opportunities for him.

He grinned at her compliment on his name. It was nice to hear someone say that; usually, it was brushed off as a usual Clan name. There were a lot of cats with the prefix 'birch,' and in Birchpaw's opinion, not nearly enough with different names. Perhaps he would change his when he became a warrior if he felt inclined to do so. "Yeah? Like what?" He asked, ears pricking upwards as he awaited her answer. Maybe her ideas for kit-names would give him something interesting to think about. Unique was the best, although, in a place like ShadowClan, most parents couldn't think of something that hadn't been used before.

The next question that came to mind put them on a different topic altogether. "What was it like? Outside the Clans, was there.. is it much different from here?" He'd never been outside ShadowClan before. The closest he'd gotten was the borders, but he'd always wondered what it looked like out there. The Dusk Syndicate (though long gone now) was what he'd always imagined rogues as. Dark cats who crept around, threatening kits and apprentices, fighting warriors, even stealing kits and raising them as their own. He wondered if there was anything similar that Elfinpaw had seen. She was young, but perhaps she remembered something. He didn't think about how insensitive his question might've sounded; Birchpaw wasn't big on that type of thing.

This was a rather difficult question, Snowfrost felt like she was overanalyzing everything as she tried to make sense of Mistyeyes' question. As she was asked more specific questions on her appearance, her whiskers twitched. "I have a long thin scar that cuts from the outside of the left of my shoulder to nearly the center of my chest. There's a puncture wound that didn't heal as well as I hoped on my right shoulder, it's not all that large and the fur refuses to grow back there." These scars were rather recent with the skirmish with the rogues. She was expecting to obtain more with whatever wars Icestar pulls the clan into. Snowfrost didn't have as many scars as more seasoned warriors, however, she preferred avoiding scarring if possible in battle. As honorable as they were, they'd add up, such as the one on her shoulder. It still caused her a bit of trouble here and there and the lack of fur there didn't help with the cold. "I would say I'm rather slight, my body is fit more for speed than power." However, that did not stop her from taking down warriors larger and bulkier than her.

As the subject changed to yet another new topic, Snowfrost found herself sitting and getting comfy, assuming she'd be chatting for a while longer. That restless needed to move was still there but had shrunk to something manageable seeing as it was only a few inches of her tail that wiggled like a snake. She wasn't sure why she was getting asked all these questions, she wasn't a very interesting cat. Snowfrost decided that she didn't mind them all that much. Talking to Mistyeyes was like chatting with Whiteshadow, she was far more of a conversational though. Her conscious wasn't constantly scolding her for sitting idle and not working which was rare. "Hunting and patrolling are things like doing whether ordered to or not, training my apprentice, Rabbitpaw I also find rather enjoyable." Rabbitpw, in general, was quite a treat. "If I'm not doing any of that, I pester Whiteshadow, run or race, and climb trees." She hasn't done the tree climbing in a little, perhaps she'll try doing that after chatting.

"What about you?" Snowfrost wasn't normally the type to inquire about such things since they didn't pertain to her although since Mistyeyes seemed to enjoy asking questions about her she felt that it was only fair she learns a little the other molly. "What do you do when you are free?"
She still wanted to know more about her blindness, yet, was certain Misteyes would tell her that story when she was ready. Her attention was momentarily stolen by the commotion coming from across the camp. She spotted the large white tom but doubted he was the cause of it. He wasn't known for causing a disturbance.

---

Whiteshadow took a seat on his bottom, yellow eyes drifting through the selection of prey. None of it looked relatively fresh though he wasn't one to complain at least they had something to eat. Feeling as if he took something too large would result in a stomach ache, he started off with a small magpie. He plucked the cold stiff body from the rest of the pile and began to move off to the side of the camp to eat, although clearly not in peace if Forestshade had anything to say about it which she did. Whiteshadow allows his front legs to buckle underneath him as sat down and then turned to rest his flank on the ground with all four legs sprawled out in front of his body, it would have been a somewhat comfortable position if the ground hadn't been so cold. As he began working on tearing small pieces of his prey off, both of his ears were firmly stuck to his crown as Forestshade started raising her voice.

Was this really necessary? The tom lazily lifted his eyes from his meal and watched Forestshade with a nonchalant expression on his face. It was clear that she did not like being called weird, Whiteshadow hadn't actually meant it in a rude or insulting way even though she took that way. If he wanted to be insulting he would have called her crazier then a fox in a fit with the way she was acting. This she-cat went well beyond the average weird apparently. She was a bit on the dramatic side for Whiteshadow. Even though his patience was thinning it had yet to snap so he took her... mood swings in stride for the time being. He wasn't big on expression his temper in public, Forestshade didn't seem to have the same problem.

He went to take another nibble on his meal and waited silently for the cat to finish her small rant. He was utterly uninterested in this living hell she promised to make his life. He had no doubt that she'd make true on her promise, yet, he felt confident enough to deal with whatever it was she threw at him. Worse comes to worst he'd end up ignoring her, he didn't do much with reactions anyway. He was uncertain if he had made an enemy or not, he didn't have many enemies. He did not like having clanmates as enemies considering they all lived together. Perhaps she was looking for attention? Why else make a big deal out of something so small. If she didn't like being called weird all she had to do was tell him, no need to announce it the entire clan.

Once he was certain that she was done with whatever she was saying, he parted his maw to yawn. "I'm sure you will." He replied, stretching out his back legs a tad. He still hadn't figured out what the she-cat actually wanted from him, but considering she had followed him all the over here to bother him he should see about indulging her, right? "Do you want to eat?" He had no problem sharing his prey if it got her to calm down. She was going to hurt his eardrums, though going deaf about now wasn't all that unappealing. He nudged his bird towards her while dragging his tongue over his muzzle. "Who are you?" The question slipped from his maw after another pause. He was rather certain he'd remember her name if she had given it before, she had her own way of being memorable.

---

The tiny tortie giggle at the compliment. "Thanks!" She exclaimed, Whiteshadow told her when she was younger she should smile more it would make others happy. So now she often found herself always smile even over the silliest of things like talking to another cat or eating food, plus smiling was easier to do then frowning. She wasn't always a happy ball of sunshine, even she had days where the clouds overshadowed her light, today wasn't one of them. "I'm sure you have a great smile too." She couldn't see his smile, she could hear it in his voice.

Her nose wrinkled itself as he commented about her size and battles. That brought her back to that fight with that huge rogue not too long ago. Honestly, she didn't think she could have fought him well even if she were bigger. Her ribs still throbbed now and then and her there were moments when she felt like air got trapped into her throat, and those claws tearing down her eyes... Yes, she supposed she would have to be more careful in battles. She hoped some training with her mentor would help her with the problem. She didn't want to worry about fighting just because she was small. She was sure she'd figure out a way to get around her size.

Her thoughts did a one-eighty as names quickly reoccupied the forefront of her mind. She had so many names picked out, Elfinpaw liked to fantasize about being a queen. It wasn't her life goal or anything like that, but she really did want a family to love and care for, a very big family even if she had to adopt some family members. "Beetlekit, Bugkit, Grasskit, Monsterkit, Greenkit, Yellowkit, Narglekit, Loonykit, Orbkit, Treekit, Spiritkit, Happykit, Bouncykit, Kittykit, Strangekit, Blibberingkit, Weirdkit, and Twlightkit." Elfinpaw threw out some names that came off the top of her head, a few being made up. She doubted some of her names would be very appreciated by her kits, but since they couldn't speak they'd have to deal with it. She supposed if they really wanted to when they were older they could change their names.

As he wondered about what it was like outside the clan, she had to think really hard about that. It's been a little while since she was outside the borders of the clan. Unfortunately, her brain didn't let her go to far back, but she figured she could give him a decent answer of what it felt like to her. "Compared to the clans, at least me, outside was really lonely." She did lose her smile for a moment as her maw pressed into a flat line and her expression went melancholy. "It's not a good type of loneliness either. It the type that eats you alive, swallowing every ounce of hope you had yet to spare. It feasts upon any happiness you have left, leaving behind empty carcass; full of despair and memories you can't seem to hold onto anymore. It takes your heart into its claws, squeezing out every bit of life you had circulating throughout your opaque veins. It craves for you to suffer a life without any warm paws embracing you, or any shoulders to go cry upon." She spoke softly with a heavy sigh, like a switch being flipped, her smile returned bright as ever. "But that just my experience. If you ask someone else they'd probably give you a better answer. I like living in a clan better."