crowwhisker a smokey tom with glaring, silver eyes
fourteen moons | post: 4
three words seemed to effectively soothe whatever humiliation at his own fumbling that crowwhisker might have felt, and so he nodded quickly. "yes," he mewed. "please do." and so he watched as the warrior hooked his claw onto the mouse, moving with an almost ghostly manner that the tomcat decided not to mention. he was no medicine cat--it was not his place. he kept his mouth firmly shut, lips pressed tightly together. instead, though, hoping to fill the silence, he asked: "how does your ... body ... feel?"
he was rather awkward in his tone, clearly nervous to let the silence settle for too long, lest the air grow thick and suffocating. having awoken only an hour or two ago from an unsettling dream, the boy felt as if he were on edge. crowwhisker pressed on. "because i know you were in the medicine den for a little bit, so," he explained. "and i know you said your fine, but, you're probably not, after being, eh--" and awkward, breathy chuckle. "scratched open by an otter."
FLINTCLAW
Thunderclan warrior | 23 moons | Massive, scarred dark tabby tom with pale blue eyes.
Killer Aptitude T1 | Just a scratch
~~~
Oh, stars, was this guy still talking? Flintclaw chewed, narrowing his eyes at the strange question that started it off. While he didn't consider himself to be some kind of social butterfly, he could gather that this warrior was uncomfortable with silence... An annoying trait, no matter who had it. Few cats could keep talking through silence without becoming a thorn in his side.
Now, the more Crowwhisker talked, to more irritated Flintclaw became, but a certain word got under his fur. Scratched. Chances were it was just a slip up, or a lack of willingness to bring up more gory language, but that felt like a massive understatement. A downplay. An insult. The idea that 'scratches' were the reason for nine cats, including their leader and deputy, to retreat from what was supposed to be a successful driving off of otters... Awkward or not, this tom had some nerve.
"One dead. One dismembered. Your leader is still unconscious after losing who knows how many lives. The patrol almost didn't survive the trek back to camp after that fight." There was an edge to his voice. It wasn't even an all-encompassing description of the injuries. This was an insult he would not stand for. Yes, it was a slap in the face for his own pride... but he wouldn't stand for the idea that someone would belittle him or the others that had been part of that patrol. Even if Sunstreak's death was more a relief to him. Useless little...
"Do not downplay that battle," The dark tabby growled, shoving the other half of the mouse away from him as his appetite disappeared in the blink of an eye. He didn't care that this entire thing came from a place of concern. The scars were still far too fresh in his mind. The screaming, the red water, the surging of the river around him, the pain of being maimed and ripped, the crunch in his chest...
"Pick your next words carefully or walk away. I won't stand for insults to me or any of the others that made it back to camp." Flintclaw hissed, ignoring the sharp pain rising up from his chest from the tension building up. He narrowed his eyes. Hurt or not, he had no issue boxing this toms ears to knock some sense into him.
[Flint is... very upset. I like Crowwhisker, even if Flint is angry. T_T]
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FLINTCLAW
Thunderclan warrior | 23 moons | Massive, scarred dark tabby tom with pale blue eyes.
Killer Aptitude T1 | Just a scratch
~~~
Oh, stars, was this guy still talking? Flintclaw chewed, narrowing his eyes at the strange question that started it off. While he didn't consider himself to be some kind of social butterfly, he could gather that this warrior was uncomfortable with silence... An annoying trait, no matter who had it. Few cats could keep talking through silence without becoming a thorn in his side.
Now, the more Crowwhisker talked, to more irritated Flintclaw became, but a certain word got under his fur. Scratched. Chances were it was just a slip up, or a lack of willingness to bring up more gory language, but that felt like a massive understatement. A downplay. An insult. The idea that 'scratches' were the reason for nine cats, including their leader and deputy, to retreat from what was supposed to be a successful driving off of otters... Awkward or not, this tom had some nerve.
"One dead. One dismembered. Your leader is still unconscious after losing who knows how many lives. The patrol almost didn't survive the trek back to camp after that fight." There was an edge to his voice. It wasn't even an all-encompassing description of the injuries. This was an insult he would not stand for. Yes, it was a slap in the face for his own pride... but he wouldn't stand for the idea that someone would belittle him or the others that had been part of that patrol. Even if Sunstreak's death was more a relief to him. Useless little...
"Do not downplay that battle," The dark tabby growled, shoving the other half of the mouse away from him as his appetite disappeared in the blink of an eye. He didn't care that this entire thing came from a place of concern. The scars were still far too fresh in his mind. The screaming, the red water, the surging of the river around him, the pain of being maimed and ripped, the crunch in his chest...
"Pick your next words carefully or walk away. I won't stand for insults to me or any of the others that made it back to camp." Flintclaw hissed, ignoring the sharp pain rising up from his chest from the tension building up. He narrowed his eyes. Hurt or not, he had no issue boxing this toms ears to knock some sense into him.
[Flint is... very upset. I like Crowwhisker, even if Flint is angry. T_T]
crowwhisker a smokey tom with glaring, silver eyes
fourteen moons | post: 5
it was clear that he had made a mistake with his words--a slip up that had tanked their conversation irreparably. he knew he should have kept his mouth shut! his ears flicked back for a second, infinitely apologetic. "i-i'm sorry ... i didn't, uh, think, before i spoke--that wasn't ... the right word," and he knew, now, that he would only make this worse if he continued on. crowwhisker made a mental note to consider reapproaching the warrior in time, when he could get his thoughts in order and properly apologise. "i'm sorry. i'll go." and he hesitated, for a moment, considering picking up the leftover mouse, but ultimately he decided to leave it, not wishing to further the tension.
as he turned away, he gave one last apologetic look to flintclaw, blinking once, twice, three times in rapid succession for padding away towards the camp exit.
[ exit crowwhisker ]
let it be a lesson for this stupid boy !!!
Re: ThunderClan Clearing
