Collapsing at your Doorstep {Ashpaw/open!}

[blackmurmur]

&&Blackmurmur.[/font]
Sort of like a dream

Even the afternoons, when the sun was up high in the sky, were beginning to get chilly. Luckily fresh kill in Thunderclan tended to flow rather steadily, and the freshkill pile, as far as Blackmurmur was concerned was at a perfectly healthy level. He dropped a nice plump mouse and a lucky catch of a small bird, into the pile watching the two pieces of prey drop into the pile and roll amongst the other food. A faint and slight rumble gurgled at the pit of his belly, but the tomcat could wait, he wanted the clan to feed first anyway. Loyalty surged in him bright and shining even from the start of every morning, and he peaked at the entrance of the clan to see if any patrols were coming and going then wandered towards the back of the clan. Luckily, or was it completely luckily? he hadn’t been assigned to any patrols today, so he decided that he’d take the opportunity to relax.

He curled his body around, half sitting, half laying nearby the Warriors den. A part of him wanted to sneak in and catch a quick nap, a bit of shut eye, but another part of him was far more interested in watching the affairs of the clan, watching, listening, hearing conversations but not listening to exact words of the gossip of the Queens or the talk of the elders. He sat nearly leaned against the den, licking at a paw as if to make it seem like he wasn’t just observing but involved in his own activity, but his dull yellow eyes did manage to flicker up on occasion in order to see a brown tail, or a set of ginger legs walk by. Even when Blackmurmur had nothing to do, clan life went on indeed.

He didn’t need to know all of the latest news, be involved in every one of the lives of the cats, and a timid part of him kept his voice from vibrating through his chords, not a sound escaped the tom besides the steady puffs of inhales or exhales that proclaimed that he was alive. Sure it wasn’t as alive as he felt when he was in the middle of a hunt, particularly during a time when the Clan did not have a plethora of food, but for him, it was good enough. Blackmurmur loved life, enjoyed everything about it, and he continued to live with a perfect balance of contentment that made it easy for a purr to rumble in his throat.

But he couldn’t just sit here. Pushing his body up from the sitting position, the warrior stood up and stretched his front legs out, reaching with claws gently scratching at the earth beneath before he sheathed them again. He reminded himself time and time again that interacting with these cats was not at all difficult. They were his clanmates, and he cared for them all as much as a warrior and a clanmate should. But walking up and just, it didn’t come easy for the tom cat. Not one bit.

No, better.
Collapsing at your Doorstep - Air France

&&Ooc: For Ashpaw, but open to anyone as long as Rawr doesn’t mind. :3 And Rawr, if it’s not in Ash’s nature to approach Blackie you can just have some sort of short (or long if you’d like of course) post and Blackie can walk up to him. :3

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[[Ashpaw]]

Paws thumped heavily on the ground with each step they took, scattering the nearby debris from the leaf-fall trees that stood on the path of a rushing tabby apprentice in all directions. Neither the cold chilly wind nor the dense forest floor full of leaves slowed him down from his tracks. The tabby tom was clearly escaping something that he did not like, something that was terrifying him. Ever since ThunderClan’s deputy, Hawkclaw, was assigned to be his mentor, the little brown apprentice hasn’t had any time to rest like when he was a kit. Not allowing his body to grow all weary and tired, the apprentice decided to leave his training whenever he has found an opportunity to do so.

On his jaws held a plump but old mouse. He could tell Hawkclaw that he was out hunting whenever he finds him snoozing on the job. An easy excuse it may seem, that he was helping the clan replenish its fresh-kill pile when he was really just enjoying his time in their territory. He would be placing his catch on the pile along with the prey others have caught and continue to hide from his stern and strict mentor. He knew he would scold him for shirking their training, but then again, they never really had a healthy mentor-apprentice relationship.

Arriving at the camp, Ashpaw was satisfied to see the comforting atmosphere of his home: the safety that the bramble barriers gave, the sweet aroma coming from the nursery and the medicine cat’s den, and the feeling that being in the camp means you don’t work for a while.

The tabby apprentice padded towards the fresh-kill pile and deposited his easily caught mouse. It was old, but fat and heavy, so it proved to be an effortless kill. Its meat may be not as fresh as the younger mice, but at least it could still fill a belly or two. It’s not like others could still complain for catching an easy target. As he placed his kill on the pile, Ashpaw nosed the heap of prey to find a younger and cleaner fresh-kill unlike his. Choosing a different kind of prey as opposed to what he caught, he hoped that it would hide his real motive.

He settled for a magpie when the older warrior, Blackmurmur, caught his attention. The black warrior seemed to be sitting in his position for quite a while. He was one of the unpopular cats in the clan, so it’s no wonder that he was all alone in his own little corner near the warrior’s den. Whether or not he has friends or not, Ashpaw still wondered if he had seen what he was watching for. He dragged his food along with him on his way to ask Blackmurmur. “Have you, uh, seen my mentor?” he asked. He’d better not be in camp or I’m dead!

[blackmurmur]

&&Blackmurmur.[/font]
Isn’t it?

Days like this felt quite typical to the warrior at this point. Any sort of rumors that he had caught a hold of he often found himself looking past, storing away in the back of his mind to think upon later or bring up with a further date. He remembered his previous mentor had always laughed at him with fond amusement when he’d been able to pull up seemingly useless information that he’d stored away in his memory. Camp life was quiet, however, and the peace and ease lulled the black cat into a state just above awareness. He wasn’t quite as alert and open and up as he typically was, but that didn’t stop his ears from buzzing and moving at the top of his head like a pair of hyperactive radars.

Blackmurmur had been gazing from afar. He had noticed the fresh kill dropped in the pile by the apprentice, but did not take careful note of the young tom until he began to drag his magpie along the ground, as if he had a specific destination in mind. Blackmurmur watched with mild interest, eyes still flickering the other clan cats until a small set of words fell upon his ears, and he had to keep his eyes from opening wide as he watched as Ashpaw had approached him. He flicked his tail, and poised himself as if to make himself look more normal, whatever that meant, and settled to sitting down and curling his tail neatly around his paws before he could finally answer without fumbling over his words.

“I haven’t, unfortunately.” Of course, the fortune level of the event was unknown by the black cat, but he was glad that he was able to identify the apprentice’s mentor by name and face instantaneously and with ease. He took a small amount of pride in knowing many general relationships between the cats. Curiosity always licked at the corner of his mind, but he never really held awareness for a liking of gossip. He never thought of himself as a cat that gossiped, but his attention quickly snapped back onto the apprentice.

“How does the fresh kill look?” He mewed then, attempting to, desperately almost, think of some sort of conversation that would drive away the whining sense of awkwardness that threatened to rear it’s whiskers amongst the interaction, or lack thereof, between the two toms. “Like that mouse.” He was of course, referring to Ashpaw’s own prey. As an apprentice, Blackmurmur had loved compliments, and he wondered if his not so subtle comment would make the apprentice glow with the same sort of faint pride. “Hunting’s great, isn’t it?” If it wasn’t obvious already, he was trying really hard. Really, he was.

No, Better

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Collapsing at your Doorstep - Air France[/right]

ooc: Terribly sorry for the delay! Life's been eating at me these days. ;
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[[Ashpaw]]

Ashpaw’s ears perked up as Blackmurmur answered his question with his wanted answer. Yes! Maybe if I just hide in the apprentice’s den, no one would mind. After all he’s the only one who keeps checking the place. Ashpaw was about to drag his magpie with him to the apprentice’s den when the black warrior decided to keep the apprentice with him by awkwardly starting a conversation. Maybe he wants company and all since he’s a loner? Ashpaw thought. But then again, why me? Getting caught in the situation, Ashpaw did his best just to get out of their small talk and begin to lounge at their small but comfortable den.

“How does the fresh-kill look?” he repeated, just to make sure he heard the right thing when he wasn’t paying attention to Blackmurmur’s words, “Well...” Before Ashpaw could finish his answer, the dark warrior blurted out strange words- strange like those words came out of the blue. They weren’t really needed, as Ashpaw feels that he already answered his question. The fresh-kill look like the mouse I just caught, healthy even if it’s leaf-fall, because hunting is great. Can I go now? Despite those words being true enough, the brown apprentice felt as if Blackmurmur was desperate for a conversation.

“Prey’s still running around, so I guess the fresh-kill still look fine.”

Ashpaw’s short response was short. He wasn’t the type of cat who would be very enthusiastic at starting a conversation, let alone maintaining one. He wanted to leave Blackmurmur, but upon observing that he probably didn’t have friends (he’s all alone most of the time, right?), Ashpaw decided that he’ll stay longer. He crouched down and began nibbling at the magpie he had chosen from the pile. He wanted to say something, but Blackmurmur isn’t really an interesting individual in his perspective.

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OOC: Late and short reply, sorry.
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[blackmurmur]

&&Blackmurmur.[/font]
Sort of like a dream,

Attempt at a conversation, failure. Dull yellow eyes gleamed, hiding his embarrassment for the most part anyway, watching as the apprentice nibbled at the freshkill. Well this was just great. His desperation for a conversation was thinning out as it began to spread all around him and he allowed himself to feel a nice breeze go through his fur and calm him down. Alright, Blackmurmur, you could this, he was your clanmate, and with that he straightened up his posture and focused his yellow eyes on the apprentice so that Ashpaw could probably not look away, or so he hoped anyway. He, was a warrior, and this was just an apprentice. Flickering his tail out a little energetically he let out a pleasant Mrrow.

“How’s your training going?” He’d never had an apprentice himself, and a part of him wanted one more than anything else. The idea of being able to pass on his skill, his passion to another clan member was thrilling enough to have Blackmurmur stand up on his paws, with unseathed claws playing gently with the earth below. “Do you enjoy hunting, sparring?” It seemed that Ashpaw was, well, disinterested in anything to do with what Blackmurmur had to say, and the black tom could tell pretty clearly that this was the case. With yellowed eyes pausing hesitantly at one of the elders that walked by whom Blackmurmur nodded to politely, he returned his attention to Ashpaw once more. He was determined to get more of a conversation going at this point, and he nodded his head at the freshkill pile this time.

“I’ve always enjoyed hunting the most myself.” Perhaps it wasn’t all that interesting, but if Ashpaw was going to sympathetic and not budge, Blackmurmur was going to take advantage of the situation and talk.

No, better.
Collapsing at your Doorstep - Air France

ooc: He'll more more exciting next post, I promise!

[[Ashpaw]]

Ashpaw just continued on gnawing his magpie as the black warrior kept asking questions. Blackmurmur would probably keep asking questions until Ashpaw answers one of them. His opinion about the warrior was also changing from a mute loner to just a shy loner. This was also the only time that he had been able to hear Blackmurmur’s voice in an audible volume. By the time the black cat had temporarily stopped his words from coming out of his mouth, the brown tabby apprentice had finished eating his magpie. He licked the scraps of his food off of his mouth before finding the possibly right words to answer Blackmurmur’s questions.

“Training’s nice, I think.”

Foxdung! That answer is too short and awfully plain! Blackmurmur would probably think I’m still okay with listening with his chatter and I won’t be able to get away without him feeling bad. If this goes on, my sunhigh would be wasted talking to him. I better add something else; just to block him from talking again...

“I’m okay with hunting better than sparring, though, especially if I’m doing it solo. If not, I guess as bad as regular training stuff. It could be fun, if only your mentor wasn’t Hawkclaw.”

That didn’t help at all! It would probably even start a new conversation about how Hawkclaw does his training and stuff. I just better hope that he doesn’t mind to make a discussion about him and better yet, he’ll change the subject into something else that I’m interested in. Anything to make this end without me feeling bad!

OOC: Late and short reply again. Sorry, I'm running out of muse for poor Ashpaw. >_>