[ti]Private[/ti]Kiss a Few Toads

[☀ k a l i]

"I'm telling you, if you had just leaned a little further back on your hindlegs your pounce would've gone that extra distance." Glimmerpaw meowed, words muffled by the freshkill in her jaws. Riverpaw grunted in reply, looking extremely unhappy with the single mouse he carried. They walked in silence for a moment into camp, with Glimmerpaw rushing to the prey pile. She set the toad she had caught down quickly, cautiously but gently nudging it onto the other fresh-kill. Then came the plump mouse which she'd had an appetite for up until catching and needing to carry the toad. With a slight shudder she strode away, settling into a nook of rocks to groom. "Oh, gross, I can still taste the slime." She remarked disgustedly between frantic licks at her muzzle.

One of the old clan cats familiar with the territory had caught one of these large frogs earlier, calling it a toad or toat, something of that sort. They were safe to eat and delicious... or so they claimed. Glimmerpaw remained stubbornly doubtful, always keeping her distance from anything that frequented the water too much. Never one to enjoy the frogs from their old territory, she found these newer bigger frogs even less desirable with their bumps, warts, and uglier coloring.

Riverpaw rolled his eyes at his friend, "It wasn't my pounce, I just didn't know the stupid thing could jump that high." Glimmerpaw eyed the smoky gray tom dubiously, stopping her grooming for the look of judgement. "It's just an extra big frog-- of course it has a more powerful leap." Riverpaw sat on his hind legs, bending to help groom an unreachable patch of fur that was looking a little dirtier than he knew she would like. Another moment of comfortable silence passed as the two worked on getting her well groomed coat into even better condition. There was no awkwardness between them and they worked in unison out of habit, born from moons of practice.

"... probably the type of powerful leap you should have had." Glimmerpaw added teasingly, breaking the silence. Riverpaw was silent, drawing his head back. His face was utterly unreadable, but any cat who wasn't familiar with him would likely think that some cat had been stepping on his tail all morning. "You know something, GlimmerPAW-" he paused, letting the new name he knew she disliked so much sink in, "it'd be a real shame if you had to groom yourself all over again." His serious eyes were now clearly just those of a sinister trickster's. The tabby she-cat jerked her head up, looking over her shoulder and upwards at the tom looming over her at this point. She was entirely off guard at this second and he knew it.

"You would not."

"Wouldn't I, though?"

With the sing song tone of his voice confirming that Riverpaw really would, both cats' eyes darted to the puddle near his right paw, their calculating minds coming to the same conclusion. Quick as a flash, Glimmerpaw was up on her paws ready to dart out of distance. And precisely as fast as she, Riverpaw's paw reached out, smoothly chucking a good scoop of the slightly muddied water right onto her flank.

"TRIBE OF ENDL-"Glimmerpaw cut herself off, suddenly very aware of the three other cats on the other side of camp watching their antics. One in particular. Halfpaw. The newcomer. The big, two faced clan cat. Reminded of the importance of how you present yourself publicly (and of how distressed her mother would be if others heard her cursing and using their ancestor's name in vain), Glimmerpaw stood up a little straighter. She glowered at Riverpaw, who was laughing it up at the sight of the glistening droplets hanging from her already silvery pelt. With a final glower and shake of her pelt to get some of the water off, she padded to the other end of camp, intent on grooming in peace. Still amused, Riverpaw padded to the fresh-kill pile to enjoy a nice mouse in the late afternoon sun. He would hunt after this quick sunlit bite, he decided. The new territory had a decent amount of prey, but with the journey to their new home leaving the tribe weak, more prey had to be caught by each member to feed their weaker cats.

"Stupid lug can't even catch a big frog, who made him a prey-hunter with his lazy beetle-brain in mind?" She muttered, sitting down in the most graceful manner she could manage to maintain some of her dignity. One pale grey flank adorned with water droplets and looking rather annoyed, Glimmerpaw still managed a sense of regality that many a cat lacked. She held herself tall, speaking when spoken to to the tribe elders and warriors, but never fretting over speaking out of turn, for she knew that her words always had value and were appreciated. Her grooming habits were also very neat, each lick of her small tongue precise and measured.

A few minutes later, but what felt like ages, she rose to her feet, content with the gleam of her newly groomed pelt. The smoky gray apprentice who had drenched her was nowhere to be found, probably off napping in the sun somewhere with his stupid self. Of course, she wasn't actually mad at him. Or she wouldn't be for long. They had been friends for as long as she could remember, what with her mother half adopting River. Well, Riverpaw. The new clan practices were a little jarring to Glimmerpaw. It wasn't that she was resistant to change, she was just slow to adjust. The new frogs, new territory, new names, new cats.

Glimmerpaw's trailing thought led her green eyes a few feet away where Halfpaw was entering the camp with moss stuffed in his jaws. New cats. She'd had her eye on him since his eventful entrance to the tribe. Brought back to life. At first she had been nearly angry with her uncle, how could Screech--- Screechstar allow this newcomer to simply join them, especially with a claim that ludicrous? She had questioned Screechstar's judgment, up until seeing Halfpaw up close. The deep scars in his neck spoke for themselves. Glimmerpaw wasn't much of a spiritual cat, but she couldn't deny that those were killing wounds. Still, she found herself unable to believe in this higher power bringing a cat back to life. The Tribe of Endless Hunting, whom she had always secretly questioned, had also done nothing while their home was destroyed, kits dying in the process. Her mother claimed that the Tribe sought to protect them, pushing them onto better lands, but Glimmerpaw could not see it. Instead, she resolved that he had had a near death experience. Cats have spoken of those before. And it seemed more rational than... resurrection.

Someone had tried to kill him, done him real harm. Over the past few sunrises she had been watching him. A lot about this Halfpaw confused her. The killing wounds, those were not wounds a good fighter got, and he was one of the largest, if not the largest cat she had ever seen. Fast too. And even slightly skinny now due to travel, well muscled. There was just no way a rogue or feral cat got close enough to him in a battle to make marks that deep and wounding. He was off guard then or, it was an attack he did not expect. Glimmerpaw had discussed her musings with Riverpaw before, who seemed more distrustful toward Halfpaw when she brought him up. Riverpaw seemed unusually against the new cat, getting slightly more irritated each time she brought him up. "Can we not talk about something else?" He'd groaned. "Maybe he has terrible defensive skills. Maybe he can't smell so the cat snuck up on him. What kind of big tom can let another cat sneak up on them anyhow?" Glimmerpaw had kept her thoughts to herself after that.

Attacked and alone, he approached the starving tribe cats, offering food, playing with the young, doing typical mundane to-be tasks when asked, and even when not asked. It was curious. Halfpaw headed out again, seemingly moving large bundles of moss at a time from the collection he'd found into the new elder's den. Deciding that she'd watched him long enough, Glimmerpaw rose to her feet, padding over to offer her help. "I can grab a mouthful, seems like you have your paws full." She meowed, voice a balance of measured friendly but distanced. She knelt down beside him, jaws parted by the moss before pausing, "I'm Glimmer by the way, Halfpaw. Well, Glimmerpaw now I suppose."

[Mama]

It was strange being all alone again, stuck in a new place. Halfpaw wasn't sure if he was too happy with his choice yet, or regretful. Recently, he was able to meet Petaldawn over the border, but that encounter didn't end well. First, it seemed nice, they both got to let out a bit of emotions, but when he told her the truth, the honest truth , she proclaimed her loyalties to Murkdusk and took off. If she wanted to be so cruel, leave him again, fine. It only made him want to stay away from Mistclan, seeing how unwelcomed he was there. Here, it was a bit better. Cats, naturally, doubted his whole 'resurrection' tale, but he stuck to it firmly. Every time he was asked, details never changed, and the scars laced along his neck were evidence of some sort of attempt of murdering him.

He'd been hoping to make new friends, gain some trust around the camp, or at least prove his weight and more in his capabilities. Considering he could easily eat double that of a normal cat, he tried to catch as much as he could. Even with him constantly working at it, it was hard to approach or even try to talk to a cat like him. He was giant, well muscled, and the scars along his neck were... terrifying. Halfpaw's caramel gaze could snap into something cold, like a wild animal in seconds, and he usually kept a neutral and expressionless face. He wasn't sure if he could get comfortable again, and for his own safety, kept up a guard.

Currently, the giant feline was making himself useful and carrying in bundles of moss. He had an advantage getting it, and the trick was simple: Instead of aiming for the wet, buggy bundles on the ground, he could leap up and rip down the thicker, dry strands. Given there was a few more sticks that he had to pull out, it worked out in his favor since it eliminated the drying process.

He was busy switching out the temporary moss in the elder's den, a big pile set aside of old bedding that he was grabbing from and trying to carry it all at once rather then in small trips. {It's like.. carrying kittens? But they don't hold on. And they smell like old cats.} Halfpaw tried to make the situation a bit better, mentally, as he took a large hunk of the stack. It didn't look like he'd be able to get it all done at once, unfortunately, which meant more stinky moss near his face.

"I can grab a mouthful, seems like you have your paws full." He heard a voice say, and a caramel eye peeked down to see who was talking. It was a smaller (well, of course) silver feline, with green eyes. The fur color faintly reminded him of Silvermist, a cat he quickly tried to get out of his head. The new cat leaned down to pick up some moss, before taking once again. "I'm Glimmer by the way, Halfpaw. Well, Glimmerpaw now I suppose."

Halfpaw would introduce himself back, but it seemed she knew his name already, and his face was jammed with moss. So, the tom gave a nod and a blink for thanks, and started to pad ahead. His tail was shorter then normal, at an odd length, and was thick and rounded. Even that was split down the center with two different colors. His legs had a few nicks and such from his river experience, and the feline was absolutely humongous.

Once they got to the back of the camp where the old moss was getting laid to rest, he spat out the bundle in his mouth before looking to her. "Thanks. I guess you know me already, Halfpaw." The tom said. His voice was cool and matured, but not unfriendly in any bit.

"Was.. was that your brother you were yelling at, back in camp?" Halfpaw had a small look of amusement of his face, as his head turned on it's side in curiosity.

[☀ k a l i]

The she-cat kept pace with Halfpaw, watching him grab moss with his massive jaws. Which again, only made her think of where his scars came from. His sheer size should have made him hard to get to. If he wanted, he could easily outpace his attacker. She blinked, pale eyes unreadable as she set her own bundle of moss down.

"Well, you made quite the entrance," Glimmerpaw replied and feeling it might've come off a little harsh, she added, "and our numbers are small. Everyone knows everyone. It's hard not to notice a new cat."

"Particularly a cat like you", the last part was thought silently, as Glimmerpaw kept her gaze focused on the moss, not letting his eyes betray her thoughts. He was large, with these dual markings, and the scars on top of them. If Glimmerpaw had been a different cat, she would say that he looked almost frightening. But she was not that cat. Perhaps where Halfpaw came from, cats looked like him. Well, no. The tribe er- Rootclan had another clan cat. She was small, smaller than even the smallest prey-hunter, with a round face. And fluffy. Glimmerpaw eyed Halfpaw's pelt casually. Certainly not all fluff. Those were the muscled legs of a home-guard.

"Was.. was that your brother you were yelling at, back in camp?"

"Brother?" Glimmerpaw meowed in surprise, a rare moment where she was caught off guard. Normally, always prepared to enter a conversation smoothly Glimmerpaw brought her attention back to the tom, not thinking more about his origins or what the rest of the clans were like. "River? Well... he's like a brother to me. We've known each other since we were kits. My mother cared for River, well, Riverpaw, after he lost his family." She didn't elaborate on Riverpaw's parents. He didn't like discussion of them, and though he no longer got silent or went off to sulk anymore when they came up, she knew he'd prefer it gone from common topics.

"And I wasn't exactly yelling at him-- well, not more than he deserved anyhow." She added, changing the topic, and seeming just a little mischievous while she did. She gave her pelt a dignified lick, settling down a stray patch of fur which still seemed disgruntled from the rainwater. "He splashed me with a puddle as if we were 4 moons old again." She snorted, the most graceful snort in perhaps the world. Of course, Glimmerpaw neglected to mention how less than a moon ago, while they were still well into their to-be-ship and far from kits, she'd full on shoved Riverpaw into a lake while they were exploring. All in the name of a little fun.

[Mama]

"Well, you made quite the entrance, and our numbers are small. Everyone knows everyone. It's hard not to notice a new cat."

Yeah.. he didn't exactly join normally. Now that he thought of it, it would have been a bit strange for a cat to appear out of nowhere, with food, and suddenly want to do everything to make things better. Did they think he was going to backstab them later for it, or was a spy? He certainly wasn't.. maybe that's why he gets a few looks. Well, it was mainly his fault for jumping in like that, but how else would he introduce himself? Watch the kittens all die, the old collapse? 

Compared to the clans, the former tribe, now Rootclan, was much closer then Mistclan. Even though he thought of everyone as family, he was certain cats like Bearstar was worried about her own, and same with the other nursery queens. Here, he noticed they all seemed to joint out kittens and nursery duties, rather then force them to deal with their own. It was a more pleasant system, and also kept the apprentices and warriors closer knit. 

He caught her gaze drifting up and down his pelt, which wasn't something unusual. Some may have found it a bit rude, but she didn't seem to be prying any deeper, so that was alright with him. It was like how he stared at the gatherings, seeing all the new cats and trying to find one like him. There was a few who had the Rootclan face pattern, and Chickpaw, but that was about it. He was sort of wondering how Chickpaw was doing... hopefully, well.

Her recoil of surprise made him a bit surprised, he thought they had been related. But, a lot of kits lost their parents, especially with fighting, and though it was unfortunate they often got introduced to new families.

"And I wasn't exactly yelling at him-- well, not more than he deserved anyhow."

Her voice tone, followed by the last few words, suddenly had the tom's face going into... a laugh? Halfpaw started to snicker, it wasn't out of meanness, it was just funny. How many times did he have to pry his own brothers and sisters apart? Or when they tried to go flying into the waterfall. He had a few odd moments himself, like slipping on ice, getting stuck in trees, and not exactly knowing how to lay down like a normal cat for a while.

Slowly, his giggling slowed to a stop, and he lowered his head and wiped away a tear with his paw. "Sorry about that, it just reminded me of my siblings back in Mistclan. Seemed like I was the one always preventing them from going home with breaks and bruises." The tom chuckled with a small smile.

[☀ k a l i]

Glimmerpaw watched in amusement as Halfpaw laughed. She didn’t think she’d ever seen his features in that happy of an expression. Managing a half smile at kits, maybe, but not a laugh. He looked less severe when he did, eyes and harsh lines softened.

She smiled when he mentioned his siblings, a simple smile for the reminder of a simple time. If the circumstances were different she would have asked about his siblings, but judging by the claw marks deep in his pelt and the fact that Halfpaw was now caring for tribe kits not of his blood, Glimmerpaw figured it might be a touchy topic. She didn’t comment on the fact that she was often the causes of most breaks and bruises. But if you weren’t getting bruised on an adventure, was it really any fun?

“MistClan.” Glimmerpaw echoed after a quiet moment. She’d heard mention of the clan’s name before from their other clan cat but had never discussed it much given the old tensions. But now times were changing. They were Rootclan now and, according to her uncle, they were going to be following this warrior code the clans did. “Are we like MistClan?” Glimmerpaw asked, genuinely curious and a little unaware, as always, of how this question and reminder of Halfpaw’s troubled past might make him feel.

[Mama]

It felt nice softening a bit, as if a heavy weight was lifted from his back. Maybe it was alright to let loose every now and then, and not stay as bunched up as he tried to be. Besides, she seemed to be nice enough... and he couldn't be rude to a potential friend. His tail wagged with his amusement, before flicking into place against his side as she mentioned Mistclan.

"Not... not really. The clans are less tight then here. They're more tight on rules too, but strange enough, there's a lot of code breaking. So, I'm not too sure." Halfpaw explained as he glanced to the sky. "There's clan meetings, sure, but we don't talk to our ancestors that much. The only ones who do are the medicine cats, and even then, no one knows how often they actually speak rather then sit around and share herbs."

Looking back down, his caramel eyes flickered over her face. "They're bulkier too, more round. Shorter legs, and if they have hair, they have lots of it. If you think I stick out here... wait till you see me at the gathering compared to the others." Halfpaw gave a slightly saddened laugh, knowing one of the reasons he decided to join was the rejected feeling he often got in the back of his mind. "There's a lot of them, all different colors and types. There's a few weird looking ones like me, some with folded ears, or no tail, others with short legs. None of them have longer, narrow muzzles, though, except a few here and there."

[☀ k a l i]

Glimmerpaw let Halfpaw finish up his thoughts, sitting with her svelte tail wrapped neatly around her small silver paws. “Well, that’s the way with rules. Not really a good rule unless someone’s trying to break it.” She mused, not mentioning that it was occasionally her who tested these limits and taboos. Her expression grew more focused, eyes intent on Halfpaw. Not in a particularly calculating way, but she was curious. Glimmerpaw was always eager to learn more and be more. She nodded as he mentioned the medicine cats. “That makes sense I suppose, ancestors picking who they speak to carefully.”

Her tone was neutral. Her faith had faded in the Tribe of Endless Hunting since the move and the deaths and suffering that came with it. It had already been weak before, but was thoroughly shaken from witnessing one of the Tribe’s darker times. Despite her doubts, she remained too smart to ever voice them to anyone beside Riverpaw. Who one, could be trusted, and two, thought someone similarly. Glimmerpaw didn’t say much more on the matter, she had just met this cat after all.

Glimmerpaw watched Halfpaw, taking note of the way he spoke. He seemed to be relaxing a bit and she couldn’t help but compare the seriousness he had conveyed before with the way he’d laughed not a moment ago. This was the most relaxed she’d ever seen him and it struck her as he spoke that perhaps he was feeling like an outsider here. Well, it was a given, but perhaps it had really changed his mood. If she was the type to be intimidated by him, whether for his size, strangeness, scars, or the fact of his foreign identity, then she would have been startled that the once strange scary cat was replaced by a more “normal” one.

It occurred to Glimmerpaw that she had never felt like an outsider. Not once. Not anywhere. She had been born into the tribe, her mother a well respected prey-hunter and her father an older home-guard. From the get go, Glimmerpaw had been a beloved kit, praised for intelligence and beauty and her likeliness to be an excellent prey-hunter just like her mother. She had good manners, always thanked the Tribe of Endless Hunting before meals and went to visit the elders the way her mother told her to. She’d had an instant friend in Riverpaw and got along easily with most of the other kits and apprentices her age. Glimmerpaw has always belonged.

She wondered what it must feel like to not belong. The round faced clan cats sounded so very peculiar and if they were all as small as the one clan cat she had met (who I keep referring to as a clan cat and not by name because I am too lazy to find the name lol !) then Halfpaw must stick out like a wolf amongst hares. Like he said, even here he was... a bit of a topic of conversation.

“You do stick out a little.” She admitted, tail flicking up from her paws to trail behind her restlessly. “You are the only to-be who spends all their time plucking elder moss from between his claws.” She finished with a glint in her eye. There wasn’t really a way to say that he did stand out here without making him feel worse than he probably already did. If his intentions were true, then time would heal those wounds and the Tribe would accept him. The tensions had already settled a bit, mostly because they couldn’t afford to lose another able cat at this time. But some of the kits had taken a liking to the large tom, and the queens couldn’t help but murmur to each other about the assistance he willingly provided. There weren’t words to comfort Halfpaw in the way he might have needed and if there were, Glimmerpaw unfortunately wasn’t the type to be sensitive enough to get them out. Instead, she could settle with her joke. Acceptance did have to start small after all and this was the way that Glimmerpaw knew how to do it.

[Mama]

Giving a small nod as he finished his little snippet of Mistclan life, he seemed to distance back out. His thoughts flickered, from his old family, who had tried to include him like their own, but it wasn't hard to tell he didn't fit in, to his friends back there. His mentor, Silverspots. His adopted mother, Silvermist. Daisypetals. Webpaw. Even Petalpaw.. no, Petaldawn. He didn't want to think of her anymore. The thought of the ginger she-cat... it made him more upset then he should have been. She ran, not once, but twice, like he was a killer. Like he was the monster. No matter how many times she tried to apologize, if she even wanted to, he couldn't forget that look, and the way it made him feel. Maybe that was why he didn't want to go back: Fear of rejection again and again.

Snapping back into reality with a deep breath, he turned back towards her with a slightly forced smile, working to block out intruding thoughts of Mistclan. "Just a little?" Halfpaw asked with a head turn, shifting his weight as he glanced back towards the moss piles. "I guess.. I guess I feel like I have to prove my weight and more here. I wasn't born or raised here, I showed up out of nowhere, and now I'm trying to fit in again. If I help out with chores, and keep up with other duties, maybe I can show I'm good enough to stay here." Halfpaw admitted as he glanced back, this time with more of a meek smile. "I'd like to stay here, living alone isn't... fun. I miss having friends, and my old family, but I'm hoping that could be rebuilt in Rootclan instead. I don't feel as afraid, like a friend is going to hurt me, I know I stick out here, but from what I'm used to, I guess it's easier to think of you all as strange too?"

He gave a shrug, before getting to his paws. "I'm going to finish up with the moss in the dens, before it gets too hot out." The tom said with a nod, and giving a farewell flick with his tail before making his way back to the den he was working to clean out.