Untrue Love (Closed)

Bushfang knew that now that she was a warrior, there was more responsibility placed on her. But that also came with trust, honor, and best of all, opportunities. The only reason she cared what these cats thought about her was so that they would eventually listen to her when she needed them. One cat she needed that from especially was Beartooth, the strong and lawful warrior who she was making fall in love with her. Despite being accused of murder as a young apprentice, he was now a cat known for how closely he stuck to the warrior code, and to have him by her side was to show the same in her. While she wouldn't call him stupid, he definitely wasn't the brightest, making his emotions a bit more pliable. Making herself seem attractive to him was easy, but taking it far enough enough that he made it into a committed relationship would be a bit harder. Hopefully her fabricated charming version of herself would help him to be comfortable enough to ease into things like that. The sooner she had him wrapped around her paw, the better. There was no way she could begin her plan before she looked like the ideal warrior. Loyal, skilled, and having a loving family. Standing up from her brand new nest in the warrior's den, she padded over to Beartooth. As she walked, she seemed to physically change appearance into the she-cat she always was around him. Nothing to drastic, just brighter, wider eyes, a pleasant smile, a gentleness in the way she walked. Her overall appearance just became a bit more friendly and innocent. It was kind of weird to think that there were cats who thought this the normal version of her. It was exactly what she was going for, and it would be best if nobody ever knew what was inside of her. Cats liked someone they could relate to in their foolishness, so she couldn't let on to anyone that she was above them. Reaching the large tom, she sat down right beside him.
"Good morning Beartooth," Bushfang greeted, a warm rumble in her voice that was close to a purr. "Would you like to go on a patrol with me? I really enjoyed the one we went on together as apprentices, so maybe it could be like old time." A light-hearted tone was thrown into her last sentence, not wanting to make it seem like she was making to big of a deal out of their past experience. Casually, she groomed down the fur on her shoulders, making sure her fur was both soft and smooth. It was another part of her transformation from her normal self to the character she acted as around Beartooth. If she was in his position, she was sure she would see right through the act. It was a wonder that he didn't do the same. Internally, she thanked the Lords once again for choosing her, so that she wasn't stuck with the intelligence of all the other cats in this clan. Just thinking about that was torture.

The day seemed a bit colder than before. This was one of the few thoughts that flitted through the bulky warrior's mind. Over the course of the days since his confrontation with the Skyclan cat, the clawing of his own eye, and Pricklepaw, it seemed as if any resolve he had melted into the falling snow and froze up. Beartooth, despite the same neutral mask and adamant drive to serve the clan as his duty, was a shadow of his former self. Few cats saw it, little could. There was a dullness to his usually telling eyes. For an inherently emotional tom such as himself, it was hard to keep the internal from at least showing through his gaze. But he had never been one to pay attention to the torrent of emotions from within. Until it became overwhelming.

As he sat there, he studied his paws with disinterest, not actively seeking out the many questions nor answers attached to those monstrosities. Instead, it was the weather. Bushfang approach was what finally stirred him. Somewhere within his hollow chest, the warrior felt his heart begin to beat that much faster. It caught his attention, slightly. Regardless of the primal emotions, he felt for this she-cat, none of it could quite wash away the deadness inside of him. It was a dangerous combination. One that would only make the younger cat's unknown endeavor that much easier. Something that would keep any sensibility or self-worth at bay as she wrapped him around her paw. Beartooth raised his head to unconsciously glance over her coat and offered up a weak, half-smile that was marred by his fangs as usual. The seven clawed scar across his eye made it even less luxurious than normal as well.

"Hunting? The clan could use it." He considered the kits for only a brief moment before pushing it away. Bushfang was a warrior now. The thoughts of being able to hunt and fight alongside her as an equal was appealing. The tom already revealed in what ungenuine feelings radiated from her and spurred on his own. Since last time, Beartooth had still not figured out how to deal with the strange thoughts sprouting up within his mind when he looked at her; how he wanted to be close to her, near her, was unusual. She was not his kin and was no different from any other clanmate. This coupled with the cloud of self-hatred and disdain that settled within him, the bulky tom was utterly lost. Letting out a low exhale of breath through his nostrils, he stood, "Let's go, Bushfang." His raspy voice breathed her name, and he didn't even notice it.

OOC: Sorry for being late, homework killed me this week

"That's just what I was thinking," Bushfang replied happily, her expression seeming to brighten at Beartooth's agreement. For a moment she wondered if she was overdoing it. How could a she-cat get this happy over a tom they liked? Thinking back to how emotion-based most other cats were, she quickly decided that it was probably realistic enough. Rising to her paws, she made her posture straight enough to seem attentive, but not stiff. Her ears perked up at the way he said her name, and she smiled internally. That was enough to show her that she was on the right track. Soon enough she could drive him deeper and deeper into love with her, and help him to clear up his emotions so he could put a name to the feeling. Once reaching that point, she had as good as won. He would start to only feel like he was worth anything around her, and not be able to function properly without her there. In a sense, he would become completely addicted to her, and it would take a lot to make him stop. Still, she had yet to reach that point, and was still stuck acting attractive to him. The tiniest trace of a bounce in her step, she began padding towards the camp's exit, a pleasant smile on her face. Disguising her carefully chosen words as mere casual conversation, she began speaking. "So, how's life been going?"

"Fine, I suppose." He grunted finally, eyes staring straight ahead. That could not have been further from the truth. It seemed as if the warrior could not rest. Since Beepaw's death, things had only happened one after another. His adoptive brother's death had left him with a murder accusation on his shoulders. However, at the time, it had merely left them with a slight hunch to his posture. And then there was the Shadowclan cat. Beartooth nearly shuddered as he thought of the chain of events that had lead to the seven clawed scars that now marred his face. For the first time since he had clawed away his own fur, the tom wondered if Bushfang noticed. Did it disgust her? Was the fact that he was a monster dissuading? She seemed mostly unphased, if at all. Besides, he was not the most perceptive of creatures.

It occurred to him that much like his siblings, Pricklepaw excluded, this she-cat seemed not to mind the things he had grown to vehemently hate about himself. The tip of his tail twitched slightly. There was a fog that had begun to possess his mind and it seemed to settle in as he padded along, allowing the ice and snow to numb his paws, welcoming the sensation. Much to his disappointment, or rather a memory of disappointment, the warrior's dull senses couldn't pick up any prey. So he trudged on with his head lowered a mouselength or two above the ground. Silence stretched between the pair. He found glimmers of a distant hope that she wouldn't press further on how things were. The idea of responding with his own question stuck in the back of his throat for some time. After all, it was the proper thing to do, right? As tough as a piece of sinewy freshkill, Beartooth's tongue seemed to stifle any attempts at a response. So he settled for silence.

"That's good." Bushfang let herself stay silent for quite a few moments after saying that, hoping that Beartooth would ask her in return. When he didn't she suppressed a sigh. It looked like she had further to go than she had thought. Studying him closely without ever staring at him, she realized he didn't know what to say. Subtle hints at emotions flickered across his lowered head, and she could tell a lot of thoughts were going on inside the quiet tom. All she had to do was find a way to bring them out and she would have practically already won. Scenting at the air slightly, not a single prey sent hit her nose. That was too bad. Catching something would have been the perfect transition into getting him talking. But it was far from the only way. Though the silence had seemed to stretch on for days, she didn't appear at all bothered at breaking it. "Well, same for mine. Becoming a warrior was pretty cool. I feel like it's not as big a difference as I expected, but it makes it much easier to serve the clan in a way that matters. And it's really nice how the kits seem in awe of me now.  They must think that of you, too, especially with your cool battle scars."
That was the first big thing she had referenced. Putting his doubts to rest would make him ultimately fall for her, so she thought she would start with a smaller one. It was easy enough to realize how much his scar bothered him, so hopefully talking about it positively would make her seem more positive in his eyes. Casually, she picked up her pace ever so slightly, just enough that Beartooth would also have to make the slightest adjustment to keep up with her. That way he would be sure to notice how she had to positive energy he lacked without thinking she was rubbing it in. Once again she scented the air, this time not hiding what she was doing. Again, she smelled nothing, except for this time to distant scent of a finch high up in a tree. It wouldn't be any help to any cat that wasn't in SkyClan. She allowed herself to seem disappointed for a moment or two before her pleasant smile returned, though not quite as cheerful as before. Hopefully this would provide the perfect chance for the tom to help her out.

ooc: screaming as i look at the date you last posted

Beartooth snorted and glanced away, studying the ground in the distance before turning his head back to meet her gaze for a moment, "Scars may look nice to some, but they were all won with the price of battle." His voice was stoic but undertoned with a certain disdain as he studied his own claws. The words shocked him, more than he had said for some time now. He'd taken up speaking only when necessary in a deeper reflection of his no-nonsense attitude. As the breeze rustled his fur, the tabby realized himself slowing, and his partner quickening. Without thinking about it, he quickened his pace to match hers. Such was the natural rhythm of a patrol.

When Bushfang raised her nose, Beartooth followed suit as well. His senses, dull as ever, managed to eventually find the scent of finch. His gaze traced up the side of the tree. Climbing seemed like something so far out of the norm he did not even consider it for a moment. But upon catching the hint that flashed across the she-cat's maw, he found the idea pressing at the edges of his conscience. Another glance at his paws. As they flexed into the soil, a pit seemed to form in his stomach. And yet, he found himself muttering, "I've got it." This was for the clan. And to ease Bushfang's disappointment. With that, he uneasily sunk his massive claws and hauled himself up the frozen bark. Every taillength felt like many times what it truly was. Beartooth pressed on. The arduous process of dragging his bulky frame proved to be more difficult than he ever imagined.

When he finally reached the lowest branches, not far off from the creature, the frail wood faltered underneath his step. The clan needed prey. If there had been a lump in his throat, the warrior failed to notice it in his slow pursuit of prey. When he was finally close enough, the tom leaped a short distance, only for his claws to stumbled as he slammed into the shaking branch. And it snapped. Thankfully, it was not too high of a branch and the fall was over in a split second. His shoulder struck the earth and sent a jolt of pain through him. Beartooth laid there, stunned, as his chest rose and fell in labored breaths.

The member 'Ripped' has done the following action : Dices roll

---

'Hunting Dice' : 8

OOC: Sorry this took so long 


"Beartooth! Are you alright?" Bushfang cried in alarm as Beartooth hit the ground. Racing over to him, she sat down beside his stunned body, looking over him with worry clear in her yellow-green eyes. Though concern was apparent over all of her features, she couldn't help but feel pleasantly surprised. It definitely seemed like he was falling for her more than she had expected. And probably more than he even realized, for that matter. Though she pretended to study his body for injuries, she could tell immediately about what had happened. Though she was no medicine cat, she had seen him land on his shoulder, and what height he had fallen from. Most likely he would be able to get up in just a few moments and be fine, other than a slight limp favoring the leg that had taken the impact of the fall. Looking up at the trees, she saw that the finch had flown away, making his efforts to become a like SkyClan cat a hunt in the branches only have a negative impact. At least now she knew how much he would do to please her, even if he himself didn't know. Besides, now she could pretend to be all worried for him, which would hopefully strengthen the bond they had. Leaning over him, she let her eyes meet his and held eye contact for a couple of moments before speaking. "Are you hurt anywhere? That fall looked bad, but I'm sure you'll recover quickly. After all, you're one of the toughest warriors in the clan. Do you think you need to go back to the medicine den, or keep hunting? The clan could always use more prey, and maybe just try not to climb trees in the middle of leafbare next time." Though her voice started about deeply concerned, by the end there was a small tone of amusement as well. Though she wanted him to be sure that she cared about him, she also knew she needed be positive in order to cancel out Beartooth's negativity. During the entire time she was talking, her eyes were widened a bit, enough for him to notice but not enough to seem unrealistic. Her brow was at first furrowed with concern, and at her last statement she let her eyes seem to twinkle with amusement. Hopefully he was able to focus enough for his mind to register these subtle movements she was making, because she hoped she wasn't mastering her body language for nothing. Taking a small risk, she laid her tail on his uninjured shoulder in a comforting manner. "I'm sure you'll be just fine real soon."