Opposites Attract! Or...Something

[Ziera]

// @Shimm

Whitewolf grunted at the sun like it was the most bothersome thing in the universe. Did it have to ruin things so early? Stars, why. The tom snorted soundly. Before opening his eyes, he stretched, hearing the satisfying pop of rickety bones as a result. Pretty much his morning routine.

"Mmmmph. I'm pretty sure I'm a reincarnated cat, or some crap like that," Whitewolf muttered in a low voice gravelly with sleep. "StarClan's trying to punish whoever I used to be through the curse of never resting proper."

The comment was meant for Owlwatcher, of course. Whitewolf picked the nest next to his ages ago, claiming that the moss was comfier in that spot (they both knew it was a lie.) He didn't know why Owl put up with him most days-- or why he put up with Owl, for that matter. The guy was too nice. Really, just a total softie, the kind who couldn't make decisions if StarClan depended on it. Maybe that was the key to their friendship; each acted as a balance for the other.

"Wake me up when it's new leaf...."

[Sweetie]

Owlwatcher laid with the sun warming his pelt, he rather enjoyed it while closing his eyes. The serenity was welcoming until a certain cat decided to grunt like an ancient elder, then he had to snort and stretch to pop his bones. Letting out a slightly annoyed and defeated sigh. He had been around Whitewolf enough to know his routine, right now it was his morning routine so that meant no more peace and silence.
"Pssh, I think Starclan is trying to punish me by putting you in my life!" Of course the brown maine-coon was joking, Starclan was punishing both of the toms by throwing them together in the same clan. "How on earth would you know if you were a reincarnated cat? Plus, I told you to gather more moss frequently so your bedding wouldn't be dry and crackly like your bones." Opening his marigold colored eyes to look at the warrior beside him. Leaning over Owlwatcher picked a small amount of his most and crunched it, emphasizing his claim.
The tom stood up and stretched with his spine crackling as well and rolling his neck back and forth. Shaking his pelt Owlatcher gave a few quick licks to groom and once satisfied he fluffed it out. Looking down at Whitewolf the tom once again, like he does every day, debated if he should wake up his companion now or later? It was late morning but neither of them had apprentice's to mentor, yet. So what was the harm with being lazy? Ughhhhhh. He HATED making decisions! Shifting his paws the tom would move to poke Whitewolf but then recoil and the process would repeat.

@Redtalon

[Ziera]

// @Shimm-Noel-It-All

Whitewolf scoffed through a half smile, one of the small indications it was supposed to be a laugh. “You’re probably right,” he agreed, imagining for a moment the ranks of StarClan and their shiny pelts, all arguing about what punishment would suit them best. They probably had nothing better to do.

The snowy tom wrinkled his nose at Owl’s critique, and then the crunchy sound, of his bedding. Okay…sure, it had been a while since he gathered moss. Wolfie was a simple cat; he didn’t like too much springiness when he slept, routinely avoided feathers and anything else that might bring unwanted comfort.

“You did tell me that, and I said I was seventy-five moons old. It wouldn’t matter if I have this bedding, or three globs of moss stacked on top of each other—I still wouldn’t sleep,” he insisted. Maybe that was a pessimistic viewpoint—considering Whitewolf was in his early 30’s—but stars if he didn’t feel seventy-five already. Turning over, Whitewolf grinned wryly in Owlwatcher’s direction. “Would it really surprise you if we were both cursed?”

His eyes fell closed for a moment. He heard his companion stretch, a spine cracking soundly, and then—silence. A lot of silence. Oh, stars. Was Owl taking the new-leaf wakeup call seriously? Whitewolf opened one eye, fixing his friend with a really? look.

“If you’re done staring at me like a creepy shadowcat, how about we go get some fresh kill?” It was his way of breaking the stalemate. Wolfie did that for Owlwatcher, sometimes, when the weight of a decision inevitably crushed the poor guy.

[Sweetie]

Eh, Owlwatcher's faith in Starclan had fallen...fallen long as the tallest mountain on the earth "Nope, not at all.". With having no parents? His apprentice leaving him along with his former best friend. Then...then his precious mate? So cursing him? The brown tom was almost sure that the dead were playing with his life for pure laughs and enjoyment. Yeah, but when will they get bored? I want them to get bored.

Thankfully Whitewolf's huffy poutines snapped the warrior out of his long dark path of thoughts. "Pssh," Owl rolled his eyes at his friend's complaints about how 'no matter what his bedding will never be good enough'. Maybe the warrior should go gather new moss for the white warrior in secret and see if he notices a difference.

It being silent didn't bother Owlwatcher but sometimes it does when he's constantly alone with the voices in his head. But thankfully Whitewolf was a new tune to his ears. The maine-coon was rather grateful for the sarcastic, morose Whitewolf, who didn't know but helped Owl from crumbling to the voices and guilt.

“If you’re done staring at me like a creepy shadowcat, how about we go get some fresh kill?”

Anddddd not to mention helping him out of his thoughts and decision making. Quickly retracting his paw the warrior nodded his head while embarrassment clouded his cheeks. "Yeah, I'm starving for some mice." With his stomach rumbling in agreement.

@Redtalon