Man to Man [C]

The sun drifted low in the sky, a blaze of especially fiery orange. It bled over the pale evening sky, and the snow caught it's light, stained varying shades of gold and rust. Newtspring kicked through the drifts, snorting as he went and watching his puffs of breath billow in front of him. He'd been restless all day, antsy and irritable, and his plan to just retire early and sleep off the agitation had failed spectacularly: he hadn't been able to settle into his nest, tossing and kicking at the bed of moss until he was sick of it. With a grumble, he'd shouldered his way out of the den and marched out of camp– just for a quick breath, he'd muttered to the guards. I just want a quick drink. Now he was drifting closer to ThunderClan's border.

The sight of the oak made his lip curl into a sneer, and he leaped atop the log with a huff. Nearly, his paws slipped against the ice, but claws caught against it. The tabby's ear flicked, and he jnhaled as he caught the last of his balance. The breath bought with it the scent of a mouse, and Newtspring slid off the log with surprising deftness. The rodent didn't take long to locate, and dispatching it was even quicker. At least this trip was useful. He scuffed some snow over his catch, then looked up to peer into ThunderClan's darkening wood. 'S a good thing we kept this place. 'M sure they won't miss one mouse.

"Stars, you guys sure love showing off that you own this place don't you?" A voice said, as the gray warrior appeared from deeper in the forest. At first he wanted to be angry, get in a fight with the warrior that wanted to show off, but as soon as Starlingflare realized it was Newtspring, he couldn't bring himself to be angry. "Glad the Fallen Oak is treating you well Newtspring." He said flatly. He couldn't even hide how skinny he was. His single yellow eye looking at the other tom.

The member 'Reaper King' has done the following action : Dices roll

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'Invasion Dice' :

Hollyshine wrinkled her nose as she walked carefully behind her least favorite clanmate, keeping low enough as to not be seen. How did I get myself into this? she grumbled.

After all, Hollyshine had been eating quietly in camp, minding her own business. Having a decent evening. But then the tom in question had to exit camp, and very suspiciously: stalking out, mewing irritably. And it wasn’t her job to care, really. Which is why at first, she’d turned back to finishing the remains of her mouse. But then she just… kept thinking about it.

Like, where was the warrior going in such a hurry? Definitely not on patrol. Or to train — or ‘train’ — his apprentice; she’d just been with Hollyshine. Newtspring even seemed upset over something! And what is that guy ever upset about? Doesn’t he think he’s like, the greatest thing to bless this forest?

Always so… so smug, and irritating, and with that stupid smile. Going on about how everybody likes him. Grr. How Wasp put up with him, Holly had no idea. And now he was acting all suspicious! And I bet it’s for something shifty, or… or weird!

But anyway. That’s how she got to be in the territory then, sneaking over rocks and leaves and snow. All when she could be in her nest, like a sensible cat. But it’s for the Clan, she told herself nobly. Somebody has to watch him...

The tom went a long ways. Until they were out… near Thunderclan territory? Really? He stopped at the point she could sense was still Skyclan’s, but what was he doing here? It doesn’t seem that special.

She hunkered not far away behind a tree, a little bored. Newtspring caught a mouse — so what? Big deal. But then she heard another voice out of nowhere, and jolted in surprise. The voice was deep: a male cat, and a big one. And also not one she recognized at all. Is that a Thunderclan cat? The young warrior whipped around, trying to get a better look.

For a moment, Hollyshine forgot she was here to stop any weirdness, and just watched.

A voice rose from ThunderClan's wood, and Newtspring's ears lowered momentarily. I'm not even showin' off, for once. The tabby wanted to retort, but the owner of the mew materialized from the fading darkness and anyway witty retort slipped from Newtspring's mind. The brush behind him rattled. Something picked at the back of his mind about investigating, but a warm rush of excitement stopped any logical thought. Instead, he bounded forward, swiftly crossing the distance between him and his friend.

"Hiya, Starlin'," he rumbled eagerly, skidding to a harsh stop right before he would've rammed into the other tom's shoulder. He looked... haggard. Newtspring's whiskers twitched, and he raised an eyebrow as he looked the gray warrior over. "How's ThunderClan doin'? Ya look... tired." Not that he really cared. ThunderClan wasn't for him to worry about– he had no stake there. But Starlingflare's your friend. His tail flicked. So he should care. But they treated Briarthorn like a hostage. But she killed one of their warriors. Newtspring coughed, dismissing the thoughts, and gave Starlingflare's shoulder a rough bump. "Whaddaya doin' out here? It's gettin' late, ya'know. Guess 'm out here too, though... hey! Your eye looks better, ya'know."

Starlingflare couldn't help the smile that appeared on his maw at the tom's compliment. He winked at the tom, keeping his socket as the open eye. "It still gives me trouble every now and then, especially in the cold." The ghost pain as he called it still reared it's ugly head now and then. Of course he was quick to drop his self important smile as he went to answer about Thunderclan.

"As for Thunderclan.. Well I'm sure my appearance speaks for itself. I have been looking for whatever prey I could find, but it isn't going well." The one-eyed tom let out a sigh. "Day or night it doesn't matter, nothing is ever on Thunderclan territory." It almost felt like hunting was a waste of time. At least tonight he ran into someone familiar. A friend, he would even say. "How is Skyclan? I see you guys aren't doing to bad for yourselves." He mentioned, trying to get the topic away from how bad Thunderclan was doing.

Hollyshine watched from the bushes... as Newtspring bumped shoulders with this cat? Obviously Thunderclan, and kinda rough and scarred. Thin, but then the raggedy, thick coat made it hard to tell how much. Has he gone mad? What in Starclan’s name is he thinking? she thought with a wince, expecting the fierce-looking warrior to snarl at her clanmate, rebuffing the mouse-brained tom. But... he didn’t. The words were hard to make out, but they weren’t hostile. But why?

She narrowed her eyes, tail twitching. I mean, it can’t last for long. Thunderclan are brutes! ...mostly. And granted, as much as she’d have liked to leave him there, if Newt was attacked... even out of his own buzzard-brained forwardness... she’d have to help him.

Tufted ears lowered as Starlingflare winked– as much as Newtspring liked him, and as much time as he spent around one-eyed cats, it still sent a shiver through him to be stared at through an empty socket –and lowered even further at talk of their Clan's troubles. Awkwardly, Newtspring rolled around his mouse, then batted it loosely over towards the dilute tom. "You can have it, if y'want. 'M not gonna miss it." Whether Starlingflare actually took it or not... oh well. At least he'd made the offer. "'M'sorry y'all're strugglin' so much, though. It hasn't been easy for us either, what it's worth. Bloodstar's got us doin' these big predator hunts now, which is its own sorta exhaustin' for whoever goes. Our prey is scarce, too, even with more territory." Newtspring trailed off, his head lowering as he spoke. SkyClan wasn't doing that bad. At least, they weren't starving like ThunderClan seemed to be. Still, he was more than ready for leaf-bare to just be over.

"Eh, enough'a that though. 'M sick'a hearin' about how cold and hungry cats are. Anything excitin' happenin' in ThunderClan?" He paused, thoughtful, then snorted, hot breath billowing in front of him. "Y'all don't have a prisoner t'keep ya entertained anymore, so whaddaya do for fun? No way all'a you just sit 'round shiverin' and sulkin' anymore." There was a hint of bitterness to the remark– the thought of ThunderClan using Briarthorn as entertainment made his nose wrinkle with frustration. But any ill-will was chased away with another thin laugh and Newtspring turning with a small flourish, trotting nearer the Oak. "Hey, if y'want, we can hunt together while we catch up. I don't think we're gonna care much 'bout missin' squirrels or whatever when dad's tryin' to drag home badgers."

As he clambered on top of the log, Newtspring breathed in deep in hopes of scenting prey, but the strong scent of SkyClan came to him instead– fresh, close, and too distinct to just be the smell of their territory. Newtspring's whiskers twitched. Maybe a patrol had been through before he'd wandered out here... No way any cat had followed him. Amber eyes glared into the foliage, as if challenging whatever cat might have been lurking there, before he turned to look back at Starlingflare. "Whaddaya say? Conversation's prob'ly easier when ya aren't tryin' to box my ears off, anyhow."

Starlingflare was stunned to say the least. The offer of food.. it was something that would hurt him to take, to know that he was relying on someone else for food, but there were plenty of cats that needed it back at Thunderclan camp. Some that were on the edge of death if they didn't get food sometime soon. He swallowed his pride for the moment. He couldn't turn down food. "I..." He started, his eye turning down to the food, "Thank you." He said simply, carefully taking sliding the prey over to his side with his paw.

"As for exciting... Well we had some Riverclan cats show up out of the blue, starving I might add, while the rest of them look pretty well off for themselves at the gathering. I can't help but wonder what they did to themselves. As for anything else? Not much has happened. I have been training like crazy." At least as much as his body could handle, it wasn't that much these days, but he did what he could.

"I don't mind doing some hunting, not that I would find anything. Though I wouldn't mind boxing your ears off again either, this time less aggressive than last time." The dilute tom stepped back, gesturing with a single paw for the other tom to go first. If Newt went first then they really were hunting, and not going to end up in a fight later on if Starling tried to hunt.

Hollyshine struggled to hear properly; they were talking too softly. Grumbling irritably, she shifted a bit closer: until Newtspring suddenly shot an intense stare in her direction, as if he knew she was there! Rat’s breath! Like the last time!

...but then he kept on, and spoke to this Starlingfire. Her ears lifted sharply. Wait! Is he saying what I think he’s saying?! That — it’s a Thunderclan cat, for fox’s sake! Did he give him that mouse?!

...and the scarred, one-eyed warrior seemed to accept. But more cautiously. Her deeply-ingrained sense of territories and borders — her experience with them — slammed against something more... recent, that she also agreed to. And her fur settled a bit. But—!

She felt her fur and skin start to prickle all over, and restlessness take over. Was this normal?? That... ugh, dumb warrior!? About to hunt on SkyClan land? Did he know what he was doing? Unable to take it any longer, she leaped bristling from the bush, landing in front of Newtspring’s stupid face. “Newtspring! Are you insane?! What are you doing?” she hissed in a harsh whisper. “He’s... you know. Thunderclan.”

She flushed, turning to glance at the Thunderclan warrior... who was much larger up close. “No offense,” she mewed to him stiffly.

Newtspring said nothing as Starlingflare accepted his offer to take the mouse with him. He only nodded, hummed a little in acknowledgment, and flicked in an ear as the other tom started talking. "Yer adoptin' stray RiverClanners now? Pfft." He snorted, padding in a loose circle. "Well... 'mean, guess more paws 's more paws... you guys take in every cat havin' a bad day?" A little snicker left him, affection in his teasing tone. Satisfied by something, Newtspring drew up to a slow halt, shaking out his fur when he stopped.

"Hey, hey, try not t'hit me if we're gonna be huntin' together. Not that I'm scared'a losin', but we'd prob'ly scare any good prey away." The last time they'd fought– or first time they'd met, whichever –Starlingflare had pretty soundly beat him. Newtspring's whiskers twitched. He was half-tempted to ask for a rematch, but... Newtspring looked to Starlingflare again. Something tells me he'd beat me worse than last time. He snorted. Hunting would probably be more fun than getting his pelt shredded, right now. "Hey, whoever catches three mi–"

The brush behind them clattered and sendly a streak of fur darted right up to his face. Newtspring bit off the last of his sentence, ears lowering as he stared down at the tortoiseshell. There was a pause, where the mottled tabby just clicked his teeth in response to her, then he grinned wide and circled away.

"You must really be obsessed with me, huh? Ya follow me everywhere." Newtspring purred, tail raised and waving slightly. "Keep yer fur on, Holly. I know what Clan he's from, he's my friend! 'S one mouse, we ain't gonna miss it." He laughed through the words, even and unaffected. What was Hollyshine going to do– run back to camp and tattle on him? Doubt it.

Starlingflare couldn't help his fur bristling when another cat had shown up. His claws slipping into the dirt below him. His first instinct was to lash out, to attack the new comer without second thought, but with his friend there, that was a risk he couldn't take.

The dilute warrior let out a snort at the she-cats words. "And your.. you know, Skyclan." He retorted in a flat tone, his ears fallen back. He didn't like this new appearance. He didn't like the attention being taken from him. Did she think she was self important or something? His yellow narrowed towards the she-cat. "If you don't like it, you can fight me for it, won't go well in your favor though." He told her, welcoming the challenge. He had been itching for a fight for a long time now.