Hysteria [Assignment/Open]

[Mama Oak]

L I T T L E P A W , x T H E x H A U N T E D x [ S H A D O W C L A N x M E D I C ]

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The sound of violent thunder and the roar of rain resonated loudly in Littlepaw’s large, trembling ears, before she pressed them to her skull and quickened her pace. When she had left camp for ThunderClan territory earlier that afternoon, the weather had seemed quite pleasant; showing no sign of the large, nasty storm she was currently caught in. The air had been tainted with the earthy scent of wet terrain then, and she had foolishly dismissed the humidity as nothing more than a small, refreshing shower that had come and passed. When she first pulled herself from the tunnels, she had felt the sun beating on her tortoiseshell fur, and that was all the reassurement that she had needed. She couldn’t see the threatening grey clouds as they inched slyly across the sky. Oblivious to the approaching thunderstorm, she had started her dutiful trek toward ThunderClan, where she planned to meet the medicine cat, Grayleaf.

She’d only walked a few paces, when a sensational tingling spread through her muzzle, causing her to stop and wriggle her nose curiously. Her wide, large eyes watered as she banished the tickle with a theatrical sneeze; sniffling quietly as she recovered and was stricken by a thoughtful occurrence. As if the sneeze had spurred something in her brain, she suddenly remembered slipping a dainty paw into her medicine stock that morning; reaching into the dry, safe store to roll out a pair of juniper berries... the delicate flesh of her pink pawpad finding purchase on nothing but the den floor. Empty — no juniper berries. Which left the poultice she was creating incomplete and ineffective.

Flicking an ear, blinking the lingering dampness from her sightless gaze, Littlepaw’s tail waved through the air as she contemplated. She hadn’t discussed any official meeting with Grayleaf the last time they had come together, so the older feline wasn’t exactly expecting her. And with the thought of an unfinished poultice now stubbornly rooted in her mind, Littlepaw nodded decidedly and turned around; padding purposefully in the opposite direction, toward BloodClan and the marshier area where she knew she’d find her desired herb. If she went and restocked the berries now, quickly, she could bring them to camp and still fit in a session with Grayleaf before nightfall.

That plan had been thoroughly struck, obviously, for now the ShadowClan feline was rushing quickly, frantically, through the madness of a downpour. The deafening cracks of thunder were terrifying. The sound of rainfall all around her, completely consuming her, drowned out all other sound beside her own, panicked breathing. And worst of all, it washed away and masked any hope of a scent to guide her. All she could smell was mud and, stronger than that, her own fear. She was disoriented, her only reliable senses completely useless, and in her overwhelming terror, she ran without aim. With abandoned logic and no direction.

Surprisingly, she had actually traversed quite a bit of ground before the inevitable happened and some unidentifiable object caught her paws. She was sent careening forward; an ungraceful mess of flailing limbs, completely caked in mud when she managed to pull herself upright. Without thinking, she turned and put her paws on the object that had tripped her, a terrible dread awakening within her as she felt the cool surface of something not stone or earth; something unnatural, something man-made — something definitely not found on ShadowClan territory. But the object widened and Littlepaw quickly ran her paws along the surface, somewhat relieved to find that it was the broken corner-piece of a larger, somewhat-sturdy structure. Skirting around it and brushing her pelt against the unknown thing, a large crack... or entrance of sorts... seemed to split the massive thing — perhaps not so sturdy — into what she presumed was halves. Slipping into the crevice, she was immediately removed from the rain’s powerful assault. The relief of this was immediately overcome by choking fear and complete despair. She was covered in mud, but through it she could begin to detect the unmistakable scent of BloodClan. She was hidden in some unnameable structure, who knew how far into their territory. She had been right near the border when the storm had unleashed its unwanted monsoon. Not only was she in unfamiliar terrain, but the rain would promptly wash away her scent and she wouldn’t be able to navigate back to the border!

Her mind reeled with a numberless amount of horrid thoughts, all at once. They were going to flay her alive! If she wasn’t picked off by a stray dog, the blood-drinking felines would find her and that would be the end of things. What if Honeyleaf found her? She was almost certain this was where he had disappeared to. Tears leaped to Littlepaw’s sightless eyes, she pinched them shut, and began to shudder violently, none of the fierce shivering contributed at all to the numbing cold that was seeping quickly through her soaked pelt.

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N O T E S , , x S O R R Y , x I T ’ S x S O x D R A M A T I C , x H E H x H E H .[/b][/size][/font][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Petrichor]

It had been a rough day for Stormpaw. There was no prey, and though he had gotten used to the taste of rotten food, the only water around was particularly bloody. Seeing as how he wasn't of direct BloodClan descent, he still tried to find actual water (however disgusting) whenever possible. This is what had led him to his secret hideout inside a crack in the wall of an old office building at the edge of BloodClan territory. Fresh rainwater was dripping down the wall, and, though Stormpaw would never admit it, he didn't particularly care for electricity; lightning in particular. The storm had rolled in after he had entered the building, and he was irritated at being stuck inside for a while. Stonepaw was likely worried about him. It didn't make Stormpaw's mood any better when a young-sounding she-cat ran into his hideout, panting with exhaustion. Her paws slapped with outside water, and he could tell through the sound of her paws hitting the floor that she was a ShadowClan cat; no other Clan's paws held claws that strong. He had been startled, and he didn't like being startled. Lightning flashed as he turned around, reflecting in his piercing green eyes. Through the brief bit of light, he saw the cat, probably at least twice his age, but looking much younger soaking wet and upset. She was a tortoiseshell with overly large ears, making her seem comical. Her eyes were fogged over; she was obviously blind, giving him an advantage. However, she was obviously bigger than he was, and Stormpaw felt slightly naked without his brother around to complete the "brains and brawn" duo. Stormpaw was irritated, but he wasn't stupid enough to be immediately hostile. "Shouldn't ShadowClan cats be in ShadowClan territory? In fact, what are you even doing above ground in a storm like this?" Stormpaw's tone was polite, if slightly strained. His particular adaptation made him sound larger and stronger, but he knew from passing conversations that the ShadowClan cat could probably tell his size by his sudden movement when she ran in. Unless she didn't. "In fact, you're at the very edge of BloodClan territory. Much farther and you'd be in the middle of nowhere. I'm surprised no cat has caught you yet." Stormpaw wasn't a born BloodClan cat, but he smelled like one, and he hoped that real BloodClan cats' adaptations would be enough to strike fear into the she-cat. Tagged: Littlepaw / Oakey Status: Private Muse: xxx Notes: xxx

[Mama Oak]

littlepaw, the haunted
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A N D x F A L L I N G x F R O M x T H E x E D G E , x T H E
S C A R S x W I L L x R E M A I N x F O R E V E R

At the soud of another voice, clear and strong, what very little composure Littlepaw still had began to fracture and splinter; far beyond any hope of calming. Her muscles tensed and stiffened for a single moment, before her entire body began to tremble more violently than before. Her mind was incapable of even comprehending the polite tone which was (though not exactly friendly) momentarily void of any hostility. The voice was completely irrelevant, for the words belonged to a BloodClan cat, and that meant she would be promptly disposed of. Any sort of kindness on this tom’s part could only be a sick, twisted toying; a malicious tease to heighten her psychological despair. He’d lead her on for a moment then shed the facade, release a terrible laugh, and open her veins. He’d indulge in a bit of cold-hearted fun, then sink his fangs in her body and drink his fill of crimson life.

Feeling all-too-suddenly how cold, weak, and tired her body was, Littlepaw pushed herself as close to the wall as she could and let the tears spill from her eyes and down her dirtied, mud-caked cheeks. Fevered anxiety rolled from her pelt in irrepressible waves, almost tangible on the cold, stale air of their shelter. Her chattering jaw parted, but for a moment she could not respond; the only sounds that she could mutter were rushed and unintelligable. Her mouth opened and closed ungracefully, resembling the inelegant gasping of a shored fish. Only after a moment of this vulnerable flailing was she able to audibly splutter: ”Please,” It was little more than a gasp, followed by a quick string of terrified nonsense, distorted by her tears and stuttering. ”I was just looking for herbs near the bord- bord- border. I’m a medicine cat! A medicine cat apprentice!” Then the sobs became so violent she could not immediately continue. She wasn’t even aware of how miserable she looked, or how absolutely pathetic her begging sounded. ”The rain, I couldn’t! I couldn’t find my way... I couldn’t... please,” she shook her head and whimpered, ”Please, don’t hurt me.”

She was not a cat capable of strength or violence, not even valor. She envisioned herself dying, of being slaughtered and drained, and didn’t once imagine fighting back. Didn’t once consider that death wasn’t completely imminent. This BloodClan cat could attack and her only counter would be blubbering and tears. Her massive, lethal claws were useless to her; the devastating potential of them finding no purchase in her panicked mind. Really, the medicine cat’s only defense depended on the other’s depth of pity — perhaps she wouldn’t be enough of a challenge, or maybe her pathetic warbling would be so sickening that they wouldn’t find her worth it. Maybe, should she be so lucky, her blood tasted of disgusting weakness.

Or perhaps — if this tom did attack her — the other side of her, that pacing beast beneath the surface, would arise and protect her. Many times in the past, during moments when she’d been taxed relentlessly by fear, the belligerent alter-persona had surfaced to piece together the unraveling threads of her fragility. To erase the hysteria and bring her to a calming peace. She would be tucked away safely, only to return some time later, a world removed from the chaos she had escaped. Where was that salvation now?

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Words: 560
Tagged: Stormpaw/Stormpaw
Post Scriptum: I hope you can forgive the theatrics and general shabbiness of this reply. >_< (Littlepaw's speech color is D8A4A4, should you like to use it.)
What Was Playing: Hey #3 / Perfect For You (Reprise), Jennifer Damiano & Adam Chanler-Berat; Hoist the Colours, Hans Zimmer; Home For A Rest, Spirit of the West; Seven Spanish Angels, Willie Nelson & Ray Charles; United We Stand, Steve Perry; Gamtav Rap Final 2, (Some Homestuck Fan); Anything For You, Ludo; Equius Zahhak, (Some Homestuck Fan); Laughter Lines, Bastille

[Petrichor]

"Please don't hurt me!" was the only complete sentence Stormpaw could even make out. There was something about herbs and a medicine cat apprentice, and he assumed she was giving an excuse. Stormpaw's pity for this young, blubbering she-cat was only matched by his disgust. Sure, ShadowClan wasn't known for hostility, and medicine cats couldn't fight very well, but Stormpaw imagined that if the she-cat became any more upset, she would melt into a pile of boneless fluff. Ew. That was not an image Stormpaw wanted to bring to mind. But still, this pathetic, dull, mewling cat brought a memory to Stormpaw's mind. He had made the exact same sounds the tom and his brother were left to wander a hateful world after their own, urban "Clan" had perished. The now formidable BloodClan killers acted like little, newborn kits those first few days, and though Stormpaw hated those memories and any cat who acted like that, murdering the medicine cat apprentice was not currently called for. Currently. So, Stormpaw would use his, ugh, sympathy to try and calm the little thing until the storm let down and he could "escort" her off the territory. "Oh, shut up," Stormpaw sighed. "I'm not going to hurt you. It would be bad for my Clan's already shoddy reputation. And my own reputation in the Clan, the apprentice thought to himself. "From what I understood of your pathetic, kit-like mewling, you were trying to gather herbs and got lost in the storm, correct? While it is strange that you would manage to get to the edge of BloodClan territory, of all places, you are welcome to stay here until the storm stops. After that, you will be expected to leave. Do you understand? I. Am. Not. Going. To. Hurt. You." The term 'welcome' came through gritted fangs, but Stormpaw hoped his message came across. He wasn't about to drive a cat out in the middle of nowhere to get struck by lightning or drown in a puddle or something like that. Tagged: Littlepaw / Oakey Status: Private Muse: xxx Notes: No, the dramatic post is quite fine. In fact, it gave me a reason for Stormpaw not to hate her with a passion. This is going to be fun!

[Mama Oak]

littlepaw, the haunted
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A N D x F A L L I N G x F R O M x T H E x E D G E , x T H E
S C A R S x W I L L x R E M A I N x F O R E V E R

Littlepaw’s ears, previously pinned tightly to her skull, perked forward at the tom’s reply. Had her panic mounted to such a high that she was now incapable of comprehending spoken words? A BloodClanner was exercising mercy over her. A long moment passed before this oddity sunk in, striking a powerful blow of overwhelming relief. All the air in her lung was exhaled in a sudden rush of heavy breaths, her chest expanding and constricting quickly as she dropped from where she was pressed into the wall and sunk into a small, self-conscious crouch.

”Thank you, thank y— StarClan, oh,” she gasped weakly, her sightless eyes downcast and her head bent submissively. Slowly, and with difficulty, the medicine cat willed her fierce trembling under control. In order to reign in the pathetic shivering, she had to grow conscious again of her body and her muscles, which she — at the height of her hysteria — had curiously felt completely detatched from. As she did so, the chill of her soaked pelt and the discomfort of being caked in mud became all-too-real and she tried to shake some of the unpleasantness off — unaware that she was flinging the wet muck all around her, even toward the BloodClan tom.

Once the majority of the mud was cleared from her pelt, and her fur able to bristle once more, she lifted her sightless eyes toward the other. Less nervous than she had been and suddenly too-conscious of her pathetic behavior, she felt her pelt get hot beneath the chill. Ignoring this and swiveling her head from side-to-side as if gazing about her refuge, Littlepaw perked her large, sensitive ears and straigthened her posture from a low crouch into a position that was taller and more-relaxed. ”What is this place?” Littlepaw mewed quietly, realizing the structure she had so-thoughtlessly dove into was a lot larger than her initial impression. Her hushed voice — which always possessed a subtle inflection; a lyrical lilt that was not unlike the warble of a lark — carried far, echoing only slightly and giving her the feel that the shelter was quite open and relatively empty. Her gaze returned to the tom as she wrapped her long, slender tail around herself, the tip curling neatly against her forelegs and resting upon her paws. ”May I ask your name?” Leaving the inquiry there would have been perfectly acceptable, but feeling a thrill of fluttering nerves, Littlepaw suddenly leaned forward and added in a quick rush, ”Oh, I mean... I just did ask your name... so I suppose that’s not the most correct inquiry. I guess what I really meant was that... you would, perhaps... tell me your name?”

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Words: 447
Tagged: Stormpaw/Stormpaw
Post Scriptum: In the last part I imagined her squirming like a stupid, rambling schoolgirl. *laughs*

[Petrichor]

Stormpaw watched calmly and coldly as the medicine cat apprentice of ShadowClan began to register what he said. Rather than calming down immediately, his company pressed against the wall in a submissive crouch. "Thank you, thank y-- StarClan, oh," the apprentice sighed. Stormpaw's adaptation had worked better than he thought it would. Not that he would let on that he wasn't as big and powerful as he sounded. Stormpaw sat still as the trembling kit stopped trembling as badly... and shook out her pelt. The BloodClan apprentice flinched as mud was flung in his direction, and he unsheathed his claws silently in case she was trying to blind him and possibly attack. He didn't know whether the helplessness was an act or not anymore, but her next actions proved that she was really trying to seem brave... and failing miserably. The she-cat's fur bristled, and the medicine apprentice looked in Stormpaw's direction before "looking around." She was pretending that she still had sight, but Stormpaw recognized the fog in her eyes. Finally, the little, pathetic she-cat stopped crouching and sat up. Stormpaw suddenly felt weaker due to the other cat's size, but he knew he could cast a good illusion. If he spoke at the right frequency, he could sound like he was a good few inches above her. "What is this place?" the cat whispered. No, she didn't whisper it; her voice was quiet, and the rain plus the large area the two were in made it sound small. However, her voice did carry far. If she ever needs to relay a speech, she's got the voice for it, Stormpaw joked to himself. He was pretty sure that the other apprentice didn't know what structure they were in rather than what territory. Stormpaw had told her, what, three times already? Suddenly, the she-cat looked through Stormpaw and curled her tail around herself. "May I ask your name?" Stormpaw was just about to answer when the she-cat decided to completely jumble her sentence. The cat leaned forward suddenly, continuing a sentence that was perfectly fine where it was. "Oh, I mean... I did just ask your name... so I suppose that's not the correct inquiry." Nice vocabulary, Stormpaw noted as the medicine apprentice continued. "I guess what I really meant was that... you would, perhaps... tell me your name?" The apprentice's voice raised into a squeak at the end, and Stormpaw had to stop himself from laughing. Still, he was uncomfortable with a cat so close to his face, so he stepped back a little and responded to her questions. "To begin, we are currently in what my old kin would call an 'office building,' The purpose of which I'm not quite sure, but no one ever comes here," The BloodClan apprentice began to pace, his mind suddenly allowed to discuss matters other than violence and blood and pain. "The place used to smell like humans, but that's all gone now. The opening you just slid through isn't large enough for any real threat to enter through, so I often come here to collect my thoughts. You're the first visitor I've had, actually. It's surprising that no other BloodClan cat has found this place, especially with it being on the border of an old city. You do know that you're almost out of Clan territory? All the Clans? Never mind. You do now." Tick, tack. tick, tack. The dripping water coming from the water and Stormpaw's strides matched the same pace, though one had more claw than the other; Stormpaw had forgot to unsheath his when he began to talk. "As for the matter of my name, the BloodClan apprentice remarked, settling back down into a sitting position a tail-length from the ShadowClan medicine apprentice, "You may call me Stormpaw. What is your title, ShadowClan medicine apprentice? I'm tired of referring to you as 'she-cat' in my head." Drip, drip, drip, the rain within the building sounded. The outside noise wasn't a downpour, but it was heavy enough to where either cat would become completely soaked if either ran. Their sense of scent, hearing, and taste would be completely lost in the rain, and Stormpaw was not going to be the one ran out of his own hiding place. Thus, he would be diplomatic until the other cat showed hostility, in which case he would gladly reciprocate. On the other hand, he was curious as to where the conversation would go. The she-cat eerily reminded Stormpaw of himself when he had just been abandoned, and this brought "talking to yourself" to a whole new level. Is this how his younger self would have reacted to his current self? He had to know. Tagged: Littlepaw / Oakey Status: Private Muse: xxx Notes: Aaaand now we know Stormpaw's motives for continuing to speak to Littlepaw, along with how he's reacting to her, but now I want to see how Littlepaw's going to respond. Also, I really am tired of switching between "she-cat," "bumbling kit," "pathetic rag," "ShadowClan apprentice," "apprentice," and "medicine cat apprentice." Names, I think, would make it a lot easier on both of us.

[Mama Oak]

littlepaw, the haunted
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A N D x F A L L I N G x F R O M x T H E x E D G E , x T H E
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When the other apprentice, or Stormpaw as she now knew he was named, withdrew (or... worse... recoiled), Littlepaw was — in a sudden slap of self-horror — aware that she was trespassing in his personal space. That she had, obliviously, taken a step too-far and shattered some unspoken rule that mandated a specific, respectful distance exist between strangers... especially strangers of different allegiance. Her ears pinned back to her skull and she could feel her pelt grow warm once more, but was quickly relieved as the tom began to answer her multiple questions. Apparently she hadn’t offended him too terribly much, if he remained civil enough to speak. Perhaps she was simply brooding over something small and dismissable.

Shoving the worry from the forefront of her mind, she focused on Stormpaw’s words as he described their shelter. It was intriguing! As he paced and mused, the medicine cat’s ears flickered forward, listening to the soft sounds of his light footfalls — he wasn’t very heavy at all, no bigger than herself, she noted — and the quiet clicking of his claws on the office-den-thing’s floor, which was very unlike the familiar feel of earth. An office building, on the edge of the twoleg place. How peculiar and how utterly misplaced she was! Briefly, Littlepaw wondered how angry Stormstar would be with her, when she returned with the story of how she had blindly sprinted into BloodClan’s territory, gotten lost, and required the aid of an apprentice to find her way back home. Not only was she giving the frightening, blood-thirsty clan a potential reason to pick trouble with ShadowClan, but she was the sole medicine cat! She had to be more cautious, unless she wanted to leave her clanmates without a healer.

Rather than brooding on her impending punishment, Littlepaw felt another rush of fierce relief at the idea of meeting her leader once more. She wasn’t going to get her insides sucked out! Her veins would not be emptied or filled with poison today, because this BloodClan tom had spared her. Although she had already expressed her gratitude for the mercy, the giddiness of it all struck her square once more, and the young she-cat could barely contain herself from rushing forward into a quick embrace with the tom. It was a silly impulse, and most likely very unwelcome on the other’s end. Fortunately, Littlepaw managed to control herself. But she couldn’t suppress the wild, stupid grin that broke across her maw, and the little shiver that thrilled up her spine; making her tail lash with restrained and spontaneous happiness.

”My name’s Littlepaw,” she answered, her voice chipper with the gratitude and excitement that she was trying desperately (and failing) to hide. It seemed she had fallen from a trembling, frightened mess into a relaxed, happy feline. It wasn’t like her, and it definitely wasn’t wise to feel safe or to let herself relax in Stormpaw’s company... but oddly... she felt more at-ease than she had in a long time; a tremendous contrast to the sobbing mess she had been only minutes earlier. She brimmed with naivity and blind trust; accepting Stormpaw’s momentary diplomacy without a moment more of suspicion. ”It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She chuckled good-naturedly, her eyes sliding closed as her warm chimes of laughter slipped easily into the air between them. ”Do you participate in inner dialogue in your head as well? My denmates used to tease me for talking to myself, but oh—” her eyes snapped open as she realized what she had done, a wave of self-horror again washing over her. In the same, frantic manner that she had before, she suddenly strung a quick, stream of rushed and garbled words, ”I’m not laughing at you! I—I—I—that wasn’t, I wasn’t... I wasn’t laughing at you...” She fell back a bit, voice quieting. ”I... I promise it.”

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Words: 643
Tagged: Stormpaw/Stormpaw
Post Scriptum: I don’t even know what Littlepaw is, lol. She’s so kittish that it’s near-sickening. ^__^ Hope this is okay!

[Petrichor]

Stormpaw honestly wasn't sure which he preferred, the fearful, shivering pathetic apprentice or the hyperactive kit in front of him now. Nonetheless, he would be polite. "My name's Littlepaw! It's a pleasure to meet you." She had gone straight from being a trembling lump of fur into a naive, oblivious kit. And Littlepaw? That ShadowClan queen certainly had a sense of humor. Still, something about the medicine cat apprentice's warm laughter and and smiling face comforted Stormpaw. He sunk into a relaxed pose, watching the medicine cat apprentice happily ramble until he had a chance to reply. Nobody in BloodClan was warm or happy, that was certain. And since Stonepaw had fallen ill, Stormpaw had mostly been by himself. Any company was good company right now, but the BloodClan apprentice could get used to this. Stormpaw chuckled to himself as Littlepaw rushed to defend her statement. "I wouldn't have thought you were laughing at me had you said nothing, Littlepaw," the BloodClan tom replied to her nervous rambling. "And to answer your question, yes. It's been... lonely lately for me, so I often fall into my own mind for conversation. There's nothing wrong with talking to yourself as long as neither of you are verbally abusive," he joked. Stormpaw sobered for a moment. What was he doing? His reputation of being stoic and cold was all falling apart because this one ShadowClan medicine cat apprentice was making him laugh. What the hell was wrong with him? Joking around? He hadn't been like this since... since... he had been with his mother, with his family. That was it. He was reminded of his family. Was it really that long ago that he was actually happy? the BloodClan tom felt self-pity, self-hatred, and anger wash over him. How dare this cat come in and completely ruin what he'd constructed for himself? But who was he to complain? After all, his poor brother was stuck in the medicine cat den, so who could blame him for reaching out for company? Why wasn't he allowing himself to be happy, though? What had happened to him? Stormpaw's inner monologue was intense and long, but he re-relaxed his fur and sheathed his claws. He didn't really want to scare Littlepaw away, not anymore. The storm was still hammering away at the rooftops, and ShadowClan claws were still something to be wary of. "...This storm is probably going to last a while. Might as well talk to pass the time." Stormpaw said more to himself than to the ShadowClan she-cat. ]"Littlepaw, do you have any siblings or friends back in ShadowClan? Anyone you feel close to?" Tagged: Littlepaw / Oakey Status: Private Muse: xxx Notes: Wow, this is taking a direction I did not imagine it would take. This is what I love about writing; the characters don't really follow your orders, they just sort of write themselves. Who would've thought Stormpaw of all cats would be outwardly craving companionship right now? I didn't. Let's see where this goes, I'm getting all excited just thinking about it.

[Mama Oak]

littlepaw, the haunted
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A N D x F A L L I N G x F R O M x T H E x E D G E , x T H E
S C A R S x W I L L x R E M A I N x F O R E V E R

Littlepaw was relieved that she, once again, hadn’t accidently offended the tom, and the ShadowClan medicine cat took a quick moment to enjoy the lyrical tones of his quiet laugh and the way her name sounded from his reassuring breath. It wasn’t often that someone addressed her with anything more than indifference, demand, or distaste. He had offered her a joke, a light laugh, and something that she could take (or maybe misconstrue, she thought with a pang) as friendliness. For that moment in which Stormpaw’s airy chuckle hung on the air, everything else quieted and there was nothing but his laugh; Littlepaw almost wanted to cling to the sound. To hold on to it, to stretch it out, and to make it longer than it actually lasted.

When he paused, and voiced his new-found lonlieness, Littlepaw’s sightless vision was upon him, wondering what had happened to bring about his solitude. A falling out with a friend, maybe? A strange ache woke within her for the tom as she considered the possibility, hurting for him in a way that she could not hurt for herself (having never been close to anyone, she knew not the pain of losing them). She considered asking into it, but was caught off-guard as a palpable shift came over the tom. He’d stiffened and grown rigid... like a living statue returning once more to stone. It seemed almost like an internal battle was waging within him, his fur bristling and claws unsheathing.

Littlepaw felt a prickle of uneasiness touch her spine, but the tom soothed her awakening discomfort as he relaxed and fell back into his previous disposition. When he questioned about any withstanding relationships in her own life, the ShadowClan medicine cat wondered if the inquiry related to his feelings of loneliness. Her jaws parted to answer, but curiously-enough, the words didn’t come. Her mind drew a blank, unable to recall the names of those felines who she was close to. She couldn’t think of the voices or the scents of those clanmates to whom she actually mattered... and suddenly she realized... that it was because there was no one.

Her jaw clicked audibly shut. She didn’t have to admit to him that she was alone. He didn’t have to know that her mother had not wanted her, that her father had chosen not to make himself known, and that she had grown up in the medicine den, away from the other kittens. That what had begun as a physical detatchment from those of her own age had quickly grown into a social detatchment from everyone. She could easily spare him the truth that her isolation was of her own doing; that she had made herself into a she-cat regarded by all as weird and odd; the clanmate to be avoided without ever first attempted to be befriended or even known. She was the one you went to when you got a thorn in your paw or a tummyache, not to share tongues with or to share a laugh.

Right now, she could spin a tale of all the things she had never known or shared. In his eyes, she could be the medicine cat that her clanmates turned to when they were down. The one that everyone trusted and treasured... the kind, compassionate femme with the open heart that all could trust their friendship with; she could make herself that cat, right now, with her words. She perked forward, inhaling sharply as she prepared the story of many, fabricated friendships. But her chest constricted around the words before they could form and she folded back upon herself slightly. He said he was lonely, how could she lie and say she wasn’t? The untruths died in her throat before they could touch her lips and her ears dropped as she answered his question with a crest-fallen confession. ”No,” she mewed gently, head dipping downward as she actually thought about it... about how utterly friendless she was. The ShadowClan medic shook her head. ”No, not really.”

She had no mother, no father, no mentor, no friends... but she still got along alright. She lived in the absense of companionship and affection, but it had never before caused her any conscious suffering, because she did not know exactly how the love of a mother, the pride of a father, or the warmth of a friend should be. She had never felt such sentiments, so how could she miss them? Was it possible that she had been lonely all this time and obliviously ignorant of the fact? She was a medicine cat, anyway, were they even supposed to notice such things? Were they permitted to yearn for companionship? Or was she expected to lock the desire away and numb herself?

Then there was Stormpaw, whom had spared her. A BloodClan tom that she felt inexplicably safe around. Offering her mercy, a laugh, and calming reassurances. He was lonely, he said, even if it was only ’lately’, and Littlepaw wondered briefly if it were possible for two lonely cats to battle their solitariness together, if only for the duration of a storm. They had not come looking for each other, but here they were. Even if they had to return to their clans afterward, to their seperate lives, and to their isolation... perhaps they could just enjoy the other’s company for just a moment. ”What of you, Stormpaw?” She returned the question to him, her voice laced with the threat of tears; something she had not expected and quickly tried to hide by continuing. ”Is there someone back in BloodClan camp, worrying about you and anxiously awaiting your return?” She tried to smile at that, despite knowing full-well that no one was wondering where she was. They wouldn’t even notice she was gone, not until someone’s throat started to hurt and she was actually of-use.

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Words: 977
Tagged: Stormpaw/Storm
Post Scriptum: Wow, this post is a mess. xD Sorry!

[Petrichor]

Stormpaw knew Littlepaw's answer before she spoke it. But it didn't make sense to him. How could a cat so... so kind, so innocent, not have any friends? Another connection between them to tally up. Stormpaw stood up and walked over directly in front of the ShadowClan medicine cat apprentice, suddenly not feeling fear of her claws or hate for himself. She had answered his question honestly, so he was going to provide the same kindness. "...There was," Stormpaw began. His ears flattened against his head, as if to avoid his own words. "I... I didn't always live in BloodClan. Any Clan, for that matter. Back then, it was just me and my brother, Stonepaw. We fought together. Lived together. We had each other, and that was all we ever needed. We used to live in the city, but then we entered BloodClan territory at the wrong place at the wrong time. We fought for our lives... apparently we proved ourselves. Then we were taken to the camp, given the choice to join or die. Neither of us wanted to die. "Like I said, I wasn't born BloodClan. Nothing much had changed except our names, really. Stonepaw and I kept going everywhere together, and everyone avoided us as much as we avoided them. Then Stonepaw... Stonepaw..." Stormpaw paused for a moment, not letting weakness enter his voice. Not letting the lump form in his throat. "Our entire lives are a case of wrong place at the wrong time, really. We passed by ThunderClan as they passed by us, and... Stonepaw... The electricity did something to him. His mind isn't working right any more, and his body's following." Stormpaw chuckled darkly. "So no. Stonepaw's still around, yeah, but he's gone. I've been alone for a while now." There was a brief silence. "Sorry if I ruined your good mood. Truth be told, I'm glad I met you. Stonepaw and I had a thing going; he had the brawn, I have the brains. I'm a pretty good tactician, but that's really all I'm good for in BloodClan. Good to find a cat willing to actually have a conversation with me." Stormpaw fluffed up his fur a little, a thought coming to him. "Maybe... we can be lonely together? For a while?" Tagged: Littlepaw / Oakey Status: Private Muse: xxx Notes: Stormpaw hasn't expressed emotions for moons, and now they're all spilling out. This really wasn't what I expected from him, but it's fun to write. Your turn!

[Mama Oak]

littlepaw, the haunted
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A N D x F A L L I N G x F R O M x T H E x E D G E , x T H E
S C A R S x W I L L x R E M A I N x F O R E V E R

As he talked about his brother, Littlepaw’s chest clenched painfully. Her heart opened wide and, in a sudden explosion of earnest conviction, consumed all (if there was any) remaining hesitance. Its absence was compensated only by concern and a terrible ache. His pain caused her pain and, in that moment, the medicine cat knew that she would personally undertake any mean to remedy his affliction. That, despite them being no more than strangers, she would do anything in her immediate power to replace that grief with happiness. To bring him a smile.

Even though they had just met, Littlepaw could not help herself. She moved forward and touched her nose to his shoulder, before completely pressing her face into his fur. The scent of BloodClan was choking, but she didn’t even mind. Nor did she even consider the idea that she had just crossed a great number of personal boundries. In that moment, there was only the feel of his pelt, and her only thought how much she appreciated it.

None of her uncertainty or uneasiness remained. It had all been washed away by Stormpaw’s words and the sound of his voice as he spoke. They were sharing something... something unnamed... and Littlepaw found a curious combination of strength and warmth in the event. Just speaking, bearing their loneliness and opening themselves to one another, it was an occassion of instant and mutual support — a tether of joint comfort that she had never experienced with any other. Her earlier tears were completely forgotten, the terrorizing sprint through the downpour an entire reality removed from the now, as she pulled slightly away, blinked softly, and finally spoke. ”Yes, I think I am quite fortunate to have met you, even if it’s only for a short while that I am granted your company.” She laughed again, quietly and with a subtle, airy vibrato. ”I don’t know what I would be doing now, were you not here with me. ” Her voice denied him nothing as the words tumbled from her lips; dancing with light, genuine gratitude. Sheer thankfulness for his simple presence.

She had never been really talked to before. She’d never pushed her nose into the fur of another without expecting them to completely recoil in disgust. Her clanmates only ever talked at her. To them she was not an easily-hurt and sensitive feline like any other, but a medicine cat only there to perform her job. Somehow, she’d become a feline whose feelings never needed considered. Along the way, it had become broadly accepted that her sensitivities didn’t matter... that offending her was no real offense and she had no desires beyond corporeal needs. ShadowClan only saw her as crazy, flighty, and ungrounded — that was it.

She couldn’t remember a conversation like this. She couldn’t recall a time when she felt so warm and so... sane. It no longer even seemed to matter that she was in BloodClan territory, in the company of a cat whom she’d only known for a matter of minutes. She felt grounded and she felt safe; a feeling that couldn’t be fabricated or replaced. Without thought, Littlepaw allowed her head to rest upon his shoulder, her face burying into his neck as she just breathed in his scent and breathed in his warmth. She let her body relax a little, trying not to consider the possibility he would pull away and deny her this. Deny her this sudden, uninvited contact... it was almost strange how healing something so small could be. How just... nice, it was. It was nice... and... it was making her cry?

She was suddenly aware of the prickling in her eyes, so sudden that she couldn’t suppress it. Her breathing caught suddenly and she felt the tears slide onto her tortoiseshell fur, pressed into his pelt. Instead of pulling away, instead of apologizing for her spontaneous theatrics, she pressed herself into him more forcefully, thinking only one thing: he could make it better. Whatever this was, wherever it had sprung from, he would know and he would be able to tell her why she was crying when she was not even sad. When she was just... content, comforted... warm and... okay. That wasn’t a reason to cry and the ShadowClan medicine cat simply could not make sense of it.

She pulled away, suddenly embarrased, and not wanting to get him any more damp than she already had. ”I’m sorry... I’m sorry...” Turning her face into her own shoulder, she tried to wipe at the tears quickly and tried to compose herself, all to no success. They continued to wet her furry cheeks and she couldn’t stem the flow. She could only cry... cry because she felt okay for once! Because she felt safe and normal. She felt like someone in this world actually, if only for a moment, found something more in her company. Even if they had only just met and knew so little of each other, Littlepaw was grateful for Stormpaw. Grateful for the now, for the words, and for his voice. ”I’m not usually so... so...”

Suddenly, she was scared to think that she would have to leave him. She would, she knew she would... as soon as the storm let up. He would be gone and she would be lonely; a newly-acknowledged feeling that she wasn’t sure she could now cope with. He had given her a glimpse of companionship and shown her the slightest bit of warmth, only to be surrendered when the rain subsided. Just as she thought she was beginning to compose herself, the thought brought the weakness back. She shook her head, ashamed at such a dramatic display over something so small and inevitable. ”I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to completely,” she coughed forth a self-depreciating laugh and took a shaky breath, trying to coax the tears back from where they came. ”Fall apart on you. I just... I don’t know... distract me, Stormpaw. Tell me about Stonepaw, how he was before. Or, or... or what your old home was like. What you two were called before they gave you new names. Or just, anything... please.”

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Words: 1,025
Tagged: Stormpaw/Storm
Post Scriptum: Oh, she's a blubbering mess. Poor Stormpaw, poor, poor Stormpaw. I hope he can forgive me.

[Petrichor]

Stormpaw looked up to Littlepaw for a response, but did not expect what he received. They were touching, yes. Stormpaw, a few hours ago, would have clawed a cat for daring to touch him, perhaps even Stonepaw. But he felt comfortable now. Littlepaw had nice fur--soft fur--and he hadn't felt company like this since before everything in his life went wrong. Back when he had a family, with housefolk to take care of him. The downpour outside was forgotten, and he let a few tears escape his eyes. This cat wouldn't judge him for having emotions, and he welcomed that dearly. Stormpaw was the BloodClan tactician. Useless in a fight, but excellent in coming up with strategies. The charismatic black cat with a mind to match them all. But other than that? No cat had cared about his backstory except Stonepaw, and even his brother didn't seem to show or care about emotions besides idiotic joy. Stormpaw took a moment and pushed back, letting himself have this one joy. The ShadowClan smell made his nose wrinkle, but he inhaled it anyway. It was ShadowClan, but it was also Littlepaw. A drip fell onto Stormpaw's head and trickled down his face. He licked it off his nose, and tasted salt. Tears? He looked over to Littlepaw's face, who was crying in despite of her happiness. "What's--" Stormpaw didn't get to finish his inquiry. Littlepaw pushed further into him for a moment before pulling away again, leaving Stormpaw with wet fur and a sort of emptiness where she had pressed her fur. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Littlepaw apologized as she wiped away her tears, even though they kept coming. Stormpaw used his own tongue to wipe away a few, but she pulled away once more to say something else. "I'm not usually so... so..." So what? Stormpaw wanted to ask. Certainly not so emotional; she had been a bucket of them when she had walked in. Stormpaw suddenly realized, looking past her for a moment outside, that the rain was starting to let up, but not nearly enough for either of them to go outside. When the storm's over, she's going to have to leave, he realized. Was that what Littlepaw was crying over? Stormpaw's mind flashed with ideas, schedules, anything. Then he had it. When the storm let up, he would tell Littlepaw his idea, but for now, they would keep talking. He would take on all of StarClan to let them keep talking. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to completely fall apart on you. I just... I don't know... distract me, Stormpaw. Tell me about Stonepaw, how he was before. Or, or... or what your old home was like. What you two were called before they gave you new names. Or just, anything, please..." Stormpaw took a moment to process Littlepaw's words as the fell upon him like a breaking dam. Stormpaw smiled, sighed, and pressed into her pelt, beginning to speak again. "First, stop apologizing. You've done nothing wrong. There is nothing wrong with having emotions. Second, your stuttering is endearing, don't apologize for that either. Third, I can tell you anything you want. Now let me tell you about Stonepaw. His old name was Stone. Even before the incident, he wasn't the brightest cat ever, but he was strong, and he was funny. He was always making jokes way back, making everyone smile. That's all he cared about, really, making others smile. Me? My name was Storm. Besides that, I had another sibling, Snow. She used to get into all kinds of trouble. Thought the thunder was cursing at her during storms, so she'd yowl back, and try to swipe at the raindrops. Mother wound up carrying her everywhere so that she wouldn't get in trouble anymore. I miss them. The city was okay, nothing compared to the forest, but there was this one area with grass, and an upside-down waterfall that swayed side-to-side during greenleaf. I figured it out eventually, but Snow and Stone were scared to death of the thing. There was no danger, of course, but the noises the younger kits made while they played with it was just as dangerous as Snow made the object itself out to be..." Tagged: Littlepaw / Oakey Status: Private Muse: xxx Notes: The End~