Contemplation; A First [Open]

Weaselpaw was still for once. It had become increasingly so lately that a few cats noticed. Most never thought to talk to him much simply because he was always so loud and talkative consistently. The endless stream of distracted thoughts had ceased. For the most part he attempted to keep up his normal attitude; it felt wrong to deny the world the awe it was due. Certainly the tabby tom was just as easily distracted as he had once been, but now a new feeling plagued him. It drug him back into the dark clouds of confusion. In contrast to the usual bright color of the world, he hated it. A soft frown had worked it's way onto his maw as he walked. Today, the sky was just as grey as his mood. A light rain had begun to dot the earth. He would have loved it all if it weren't for the troubling lack of enthusiasm. What is wrong with me? He wondered. His paws kicked aside lightly the pebbles that dotted the riverbank. It occurred to Weaselpaw he should be laughing at the soft clatter of the little stones. It was funny sound. Instead, the saddened frown twitched slightly at the corners, but didn't yield.

The apprentice's eyes cast a look over the writhing waters of the river. They looked like what he assumed snakes looked like; all of their individual currents twisting in one wild mess. That never ceased to amuse him. Even today the tom could recognize how magnificent it all was. However, the edges of his muzzle still sloped down to the forest floor. Specks of water splashed over the sides of the bank, dampening his paws. Water had never bothered him. He loved it, even more so than other Riverclan cats. Today it didn't spark any sort of joy in his heart. Instead his light green eyes glazed over as he stared at the raging waters. The torment of the droplets reminded him of the conflict inside. It was easier to focus on that rather that process through what was happening; he didn't know how. Overthinking had never been the young cat's way of life, but now, the events of the day before had dragged him down to a place of complication. He didn't know what to do.

Cinderpaw glanced at Weaselpaw worryingly as they patrolled. Normally he would be jumping up and down like fish would on some days but instead he looked to his paws in thought. Should she say something? She guess so. "W-whats wrong, W-Weaselpaw?" She has felt a sort of connection to him since they became apprentices at the same ceremony. But she normally likes patrolling with him because of how jumpy and energetic he is. Then it started raining and she really thought he was going to go back to his normal self but nothing. She purred slightly as the rain hit her, she loves the rain to death but for some reason swimming she does not like so much.

OC:Hope you don`t mind little Cinder butting in!

Willowpaw padded quietly beside her brother, who was flanked on his other side by Cinderpaw. Weaselpaw would usually be talking to loud that she'd have to shut him up so he didn't scare all the fish away, but now he was being just as quiet as she usually was. It started to worry her, and she wracked her brain for what could possibly be on her brothers mind that kept him so quiet and mellow. Gaze clouded in worry, she bumped playfully into Weaselpaw. "Hey Weaselpaw.. Watcha thinking about?" She asked a moment after Cinderpaw, trying to catch his gaze with her concerned blue one. She always thought she annoyed Weaselpaw with how much she followed him around, but with his loud personality, he made it easier to make new friends and he made her feel more comfortable around others. She didn't know what she'd do without her brother, and she prayed to StarClan that she'd have him by her side till they're old and in the elder's den telling not completely true stories to kits.

His head popped up, breaking out of the trance that had fixed his gaze to the flowing water. He shook away the thoughts and focused on the two she-cats. The concern in their voice melting his loving heart. Weaselpaw loved all of his family and clanmates; they were the best. Willowpaw was definitely the best sister a tom could ever want. A smile broke through, banishing the frown temporarily from his muzzled. His eyes were still dulled with the internal struggle. As he turned to speak, light stinging sensations prickled all along his pelt. All ready the scratches were barely visible. He'd lied and blamed the instance on his clumsiness and an unfortunately placed thorn bush. The claws had felt sharper than thorns through, and they left internal scars that would last a life time; they'd already been enough to tear through the impossible joy that typically lit up the tabby tom.

However, he forced the smile not to falter as he glanced back and forth between the pair. They were both so sweet and amazing. Even in this dark moment, he could still recognize it. Weaselpaw stood up tall, puffing out his unruly chest fur. One paw darted out to disrupt the perfect flow of the river before padding at it to create a light spray of water. It blew against the trio. A laugh broke from the apprentice's throat as he jumped backwards to look at him. Weaselpaw almost felt like he was watching someone else perform the usual goofy actions. It didn't feel real. Pushing away the bad thoughts once more, the tom cocked his head sideways, "Nothing at all. It feels great to be out of camp, though."