[ti]Private[/ti]Smitten Kitten

[M'Lady]

It was a rather lazy day for the Mistclan tom. Patrols were finished, prey was eaten, and there were no problems for him to solve. Thistlestep rather liked solving problems, things that made his mind spin and his head ache were his favorite type of things. Twoleg contraptions were by far the most interesting. But he rather liked things he could find in the forest as well. Why were pinecones that particular shape? Did the scent of certain herbs convey different things? Why did this robin choose to nest in this tree rather than the higher one? So when things were boring and lazy, Thistlestep enjoyed nothing more than heading into the forest to find an enigma. 

He chose the bright forest today. Though it was chilly, and most of the undergrowth had shriveled away, he felt just as cheery as ever. Humming softly under his breath, the warrior glanced around, sharp green eyes looking to see if there was anything of note. He paused in his step as a squirrel hurried down from a tree, scrabbling at the ground to find whatever it had buried there. Thistle frowned, watching the creature pull an acorn from the hard dirt. How did the squirrel manage to find it? It must've buried it a moon ago, when the acorns had fallen. The frost would kill the scent, so how did it remember? Thistle sincerely doubted he could find a piece of prey after that long without a scent to go by. And he knew they scattered their food stores, did they have to recall each one? Perhaps the squirrel used its environment to it's advantage. A stump that would show it was just a tail length away, perhaps? He watched as the creature climbed up the tree to escape with it's meal, and the warrior sighed. Another mystery he'd have to figure out, he would learn more the next time he spotted a squirrel. 

He strolled along, green eyes a bit distant as he thought about the problem he had just discovered. He loved it when things didn't add up, always something new to figure out. He was heading along the Ivyclan border now, careful to stay half a tail length from the edge. Even lost in thought, he knew where he belonged. Suddenly, the Ivyclan scent became much stronger as a breeze drifted his way, and he blinked his way out of the haze. 

Whoa whoa whoa.

Who in Starclan's name was that? 

Was that a stunning Ivyclan tom he saw, on a border patrol? 

Thistlestep grinned, amusement flickering in his green eyes, before he rose his voice to call over to the unfamiliar tom. 

"Is that a gorgeous cat with stars in his fur? I must be dreaming!" He hooted, a rolling purr to his tone. He loved Ivyclan cats too. What made them so different from cats in his own clan? They ate the same prey, breathed the same air, yet all so different indeed. 

[silverfang218]

Barkfur had been ask to go on patrol, a proposition that he would never turn down. The patrol had split up a little ways back; some of his clanmates were hunting while others were checking the border in the other direction. Barkfur, however, was unlucky enough to be marching near the edge of the MistIvy border near where Thistlestep was also taking his walk. Unlucky enough to be marching by at just the same moment that Thistle was. Poor grumpy Barkfur.

The tom lifts his head to look around as a voice hits his ears and the MistClan scent hits his nose at the first time. His amber gaze finds Thistle pretty quickly and assesses that the enemy warrior is still on the correct side of the border. Then, the slightly bewildered Barkfur glances around to find who Thistle is talking to, because clearly Thistle isn’t addressing the IvyClan warrior. First of all, Barkfur can barely comprehend hitting on a warrior outside of his own clan, and secondly no one hits on Barkfur.

However, this strange MistClan warrior is looking straight at Barkfur; there really isn’t any doubt about who Thistle is addressing. Barkfur raises a kittybrow at his admirer. “Excuse me?” Bark asks in his deep, rough voice. His expression isn’t flattered or amused; he looks annoyed at this interruption, hostile to the enemy warrior, and confused as to what the meaning of all this was all at the same time. Good job, you have made Barkfur question the meaning of life. StarClan, why do you test me so? He isn’t technically on my territory, and we aren’t supposed to straight up kill other warriors anyways…

[M'Lady]

Oh Thistlestep could've sighed at how wonderfully deep and rumbling the tom's voice was. It would set his heart all aflutter. He wasn't that far ahead of him, so the warrior quickened his gait and soon caught up with the Ivyclan cat, though he was careful to stay on his side. The sweet boy looked like he was a passionate one, and Thistle wasn't going to give him any reason to leap. Mischief flickered in his gaze when he noticed just how hostile the other warrior was, and he stifled the laugh that rose in his throat.

"Ah, so you are a mortal cat after all! And here I was, believing I was graced with the perfect image of Starclan." Thistlestep mused, though he then peered at the young tom, looking at him with those focused problem solver eyes. The curious thing about Thistle's eyes, they almost seemed to change in color. Of course, such a thing was impossible, but it seemed so nonetheless. When he was distant, they were a pale fern color. Cheerful, bright and leafy. But in an instance such as this, when he focuses all of his attention on one thing, on one cat, they were a deep dark storm of green. Some she-cats would swoon under that gaze, young apprentices would snap to attention, and a fellow warrior would look him right back in the eye to rival such a gaze. So he studied the Ivyclan warrior, from his bright luminous eyes to the curious yet attractive coloring of his fur. Finally, Thistlestep blinked, eyes glowing.

"But it appears that Starclan now has some competition for that title."

[silverfang218]

Barkfur’s large eyes meet Thistlestep’s gaze. He isn’t amused by this flirty talk. Now this MistClan warrior is getting in Barkfur’s way of doing his job; he is both distracting and infuriating. Barkfur is quickly going from annoyed to angry, though he restrains himself. I will not cross the border in order to kill this pest. I will not.

Before he responds, Barkfur closes his eyes and takes a breath to calm himself. He will not pounce on this Mist warrior. He won’t do it. When he opens his eyes, his gaze has become mostly annoyed again. Annoyed and a little frustrated. “Why are you doing this? Isn’t there something useful you can be doing, like hunting for your clan? Or, if you are on patrol, finishing your patrol? I’m not on your territory and you are not on mine so I don’t understand what the problem is here.” Barkfur states in his baritone rumble.

The thing that is possibly bothering the young IvyClan warrior the most is his admirer’s similarities to Rainfur, except instead of harassing she-cats this warrior is harassing Barkfur. Barkfur feels a brief stab of pity for MistClan that they have to deal with this pest on a daily basis while Bark will never see this tom again more than likely (or so he believes). The pity is quickly replaced by frustration, though.

[M'Lady]

Oh how he loved a problem. This Ivyclan tom, with his thunder roll voice and his aggravated yellow eyes, he was the perfect enigma for Thistlestep. He wanted to know absolutely everything about him, questions were lingering in the back of his throat, just waiting to be sprung. But he swallowed them down. The cat was annoyed, flighty, this would require the utmost finesse. It was as if the other's words just slid by him, though truly they were carefully analyzed and stored in the tom's ridiculously meticulous mind.

"Oh, what do you know? Perhaps I was assigned to find a very specific Ivyclan tom. They gave me a description, you see. He's got to have the brightest eyes, the glossiest fur, and just the right amount of bite in his voice." He hummed, taking a few lazy steps along the border, covering a bit of ground due to his graceful, long stride. "Who said there was any sort of problem? It's a lovely day, isn't it? I'm feeling rather cheerful. And I happen to bump into exactly the one I've been looking for, a problem indeed." Laughter danced in his tone, eyes an emerald green, he flicked his tail to accent his words. He turned on his paws, so his nose was just a whisker away from where the Ivyclan markers started, and matched the warrior's gaze.

"What's wrong with a friendly conversation?"

[silverfang218]

“Well that’s the dumbest assignment that I have ever heard. You MistClan cats really do have your heads up your rears. Well I see no such cat but you seem to believe that you found them. Your assignment is over so you should report back.” Barkfur is doing really good; he hasn’t even murdered Thistlestep yet. He’s trying hard to keep the frustration out of his voice but he doesn’t really do a good job. He’s clearly becoming more frustrated and more annoyed with every word coming out of Thistlestep’s mouth.

Barkfur stops walking along the border at this point, instead opting to turn his full gaze onto his pursuer. His flashing amber eyes train their gaze on Thistlestep’s pretty eyes. While the fact that they seem to change colors may have registered with Bark, he is far too frustrated to care. “Everything is wrong with a bit friendly conversation when we both have better things we could be doing. Well, I have better things I could be doing anyways.”

With that, Bark starts to walk again, setting a slightly faster pace, not to lose the other warrior but to finish his task faster so he can be away from the border and this nuisance. Bark seems to have put his blinders on, as he doesn’t look at the other cat at all. He acts like the other cat isn’t there at all; Barkfur is going through the list of everything he can think of to make the other cat go away.

[M'Lady]

That familiar flicker in his chest, a fire was threatening to start. The last time he'd felt like this, he'd finally figured out why closely clustered pine trees only had branches and needles near the very top. He could get into that research and analysis now, but he preferred to consider this new enigma at the moment. How could such a lovely looking tom be so cold? Even his voice betrayed that it should sound warm, like the sun warming stones, or dewdrops slipping down blades of grass. Was it because he was MIstclan? Because he was bothering him? Because the tom was truly busy? Perhaps he was just always like this? Oh, Thistlestep well and truly wanted to know.

He laughed, soon quickening his pace into a light jog to catch up to the other warrior, all the while making sure he didn't stray one paw out of place. "Oh how clever! Your tongue is as quick as your steps, tomcat!" He hummed, his voice bright, as if the stranger had just started some sort of game. "Alright! You really want to get back to work? Finish your patrol without me following you all the way down the border?" His tone was sweet but for a bit of darkness in his threat, the lovely red of holly berries only shadowed by the fact that they were poison. "Then do one thing for me, one thing is all I ask!" Thistlestep called, glittering green gaze sliding to the side to view the tom so pointedly ignoring him. "Give me your name, so I might know who the warrior is with the sun in his eyes and the stars in his fur."

[silverfang218]

“I’ll give you my name if you leave me alone and if you tell me yours so I know who to avoid from now on.” Barkfur growls, flashing another amber glare towards the other cat. While he doesn’t see the danger in giving the other tom his name, he doesn’t want to give his name unless he gets a name in return. That, and he truly wishes to know who to avoid from now on. Poor Barkfur doesn't hear the poison the other tom's voice, nor does he realize how much a mere name might have in the wrong paws. Oh but he will soon enough.

He tilts his head to one side; Barkfur truly does not know why this cat keeps flirting with him. He’s clearly shown that he’s not interested and they are in different clans anyways. This does not make any sense to the young warrior, no sense at all. MistClan must have gone insane. No wonder they had that one cat leap off a cliff and die at that last Gathering. They are all completely insane. Barkfur lets out a huff directed to the ground as he realizes that he doesn’t actually care why this MistClan warrior is flirting with him, just as long as he stops once he gets the name.

[M'Lady]

"Oh, you want to know my name too? How sweet!" He exclaimed, completely disregarding the second half of the tom's remark. The warrior lifted his head, puffing out his chest slightly as he was to make an important announcement. "My name is Thistlestep, but you can call me anytime." He purred, green eyes glinting with his own personal sense of mischief. Clearly this Ivyclan cat was a bit rough around the edges, but Thistle was sure that he'd be able to smooth it out sooner or later. He just had to do what he did best, keep gathering information and coming to a reasonable outcome. The flirting had been a good start, to get a feel for what the warrior was like. Of course, Thistlestep had automatically assumed that the handsome tom would be used to flirting. He was wrong, clearly. This was the irritation of someone who's never had to deal with it, not the exhaustion of someone who suffered through it on a daily basis.

At least he knew one thing about the tom, he'd have to take a different approach next time. Thistle glanced at the sky, taking note of the sun. If the Ivyclan cat was on patrol at this time today, it was likely he'd be on the same patrol tomorrow. At least, that's how Mistclan organized patrols. Maybe it was different, but with them being sister clans, Thistle was inclined to believe it would be the same. The tabby glanced back over at the unfamiliar cat, watching him with curious eyes.

"So? Are you going to tell me, or should I just keep calling you gorgeous? I don't mind if you don't."

[silverfang218]

“Why hello, Anytime. It would have been nice to meet you, if you weren’t so persistently annoying.” Barkfur snaps with angry sarcasm, quickly reaching the limits of his patience; he had actually reached the end of his patience the moment that Thistle first opened his mouth, but now Barkfur is starting to become unafraid of the consequences of attacking the other cat... surely just one swipe. No, Barkfur holds himself back for the moment. “I do mind, thank you very much. My name is Barkfur. You may leave now; you’ve got what you wanted.” Barkfur huffs, though he quickly files the name in his mind. Thistlestep. Thistlestep of MistClan was someone for Barkfur to most certainly avoid.

It’s true that Barkfur will likely be back the next day, though he doesn’t realize that the other warrior has made that connection yet. Far from it, Bark doubts he’ll have to deal with this again; after all, how often do warriors of the two clans interact? Very rarely, unless at Gatherings or unless they go looking for each other. Bark won’t be seeking out Thistle, nor does the thought that Thistle might try to meet up with him again ever cross the naive young warrior’s mind.

Barkfur thinks he will be safe. He will never be safe.