The start of something wonderful [closed]

With the sun slowly rising and the fog dissipating into the cold Leaf-bare air, Stag arose from his nest, his thick fur sticking out at all angles. Despite how cold it was in the mornings, or how much frost seeped in through the den entrance, it seemed as though Stag was immune to it all. The thick and long fur he possessed acted like a barrier from the cold, keeping him warm in almost all weather. Not to mention the fox pelt he often wore. Letting out a yawn, he watched as his breath grew into a cloud, rising and fading into the air. As the Thunderclan and Asylum cats began to stir, Stag was faced with the task of finding out what to do that day. If he knew where Thalia and Spark were, he would definitely be spending time with them right now. A small sigh escaped his maw. It felt like moons since he last saw the two cats. He could only imagine what they were doing at this moment- it probably wasn't much different from what he was doing.

Switching his attention back to the day's activities, he decided he might stick around in the camp for a while before heading out to hunt later. Going on a dawn patrol wasn't exactly his favorite, especially considering how he would rather spar- hunting was nowhere near his list of strengths. Gazing across the camp, he watched as busy Asylum cats and Thunderclan cats grouped in patrols, hurriedly rushing by him. In all honesty he would love to talk to a Thunderclan cat, but they all always seemed tense around Asylum cats. Sure, he somewhat understood, but he only wished that they would try to understand their purpose here. Maybe... maybe if he could find the right cat, he could strike up a conversation with them. The tom wasn't very good with socialization, and he knew this was probably going to be a disaster, but he looked anyways, a tri-colored cat catching his eyes. He was fluffy and had some kind of eerie vibe to him- likely caused by his vacant stare. Any other time Stag would never even think about approaching a cat like that, but this seemed like the only cat who didn't look busy or upset. Padding toward him, he smiled and tried his best to look disarming, which was rather hard considering how large he was. Sitting down next to the tom, he softened his eyes a little bit and spoke. "Hello... I'm Stag. I know you probably don't like Asylum cats... but i want to get to know some of you guys. We really mean no harm- at lead i don't." He looked away, hoping that the greeting was okay. This was his first shot of having a new friend since moving into Thunderclan, he didn't want to spoil it.

Buzzardpaw was resting, near groups of cats but not really part of any of them, as was often true. The young tom was for the most part okay with at the very least being in the presence of others, absorbing bits and pieces of their idle conversations. But he liked it even more when he was actually a participant in those conversations--  he just didn't really know how to go about properly joining one. He mostly joined in only if someone actively invited him too, and the only ones who typically did that were the cats he was already close to. Otherwise, he'd usually end up just vacantly staring at a group of cats in the hopes that they would give him the go ahead to join them, but they usually didn't take the hint. He wished they would-- or he wished he knew a better way to join in, at least.

He even wished he could talk to some of the Asylum cats. True-- he didn't like the fact that they'd so aggressively taken over his home, that they had held him and his sibling to the ground in their dens and hurt one of the clan's elders and their leader. He didn't like the fact that they were here, generally. But he had nothing against any of them as individuals. He was curious about them, even. They were different, new. Perhaps they could be friends. He would like that.

"Hhg!" the fluffy dark-pelted tom let out a squeak of surprise at the sudden sound of an unknown voice. He had not noticed this cat approaching at all. And it was one of those very Asylum cats-- he hadn't expected one of them to actively try to strike up a casual conversation with him...how wonderful! He had just been thinking about how he wanted to talk to them, and here one of them was. He smiled at Stag's presence-- or at least, tried to smile, in his slightly awkward, lopsided way.

"I don't dislike you!" he assured his new friend, "I mean, I don't know you. I don't know anything about you. So I can't dislike you," he continued to wear his awkward little smile. "I'm Buzzardpaw. Nice to meet you,"

Relief washed over Stag when he didn't get immediate backlash from the tom. "Nice to meet you as well." The words were accompanied with a smile as he wrapped his fluffy tail around his paws. Conversation wasn't his forte, but at least he didn't have too much fear when approaching a cat. Scanning his mind, he tried to find something to talk about with Buzzardpaw- he didn't want this to be awkward, despite how awkward it already was. He knew that it probably wouldn't be a very good idea to bring up things about clan cats or the Asylum, if anything that would make the conversation more awkward. Maybe they could, perhaps, get to know each other better? Maybe he could ask Buzzardpaw questions about him, to get to know him.

Clearing his throat, he finally spoke, his voice low. "So... Is there any hobbies you enjoy? I know some cats like to collect things or go hunting or draw things in the dirt. Do you have one of those?" He looked away with a worried expression, feeling as if he had just made it awkward. Maybe Buzzardpaw would have something better to talk about? By his overall demeanor and expression, he didn't think the other tom would be much better at conversation.

Buzzardpaw blinked rhythmically a few times.

"Hobbies?" he said, more echoing than asking, his head tilted slightly to one side. He tried to search his mind for something that could be considered a hobby. It seemed to him that usually one had to be at least somewhat good at something for it to be their hobby...and he couldn't think of much he was very good at. And he didn't do anything like collect rocks or leaves or anything like that-- but thinking about it, it seemed like it might be fun. Maybe he should start. "I do like...I like hunting," he said finally, trying to at least contribute something. "I'm not...good at it. But I do like it. But I guess that's kinda boring..."

He looked at his new friend, curious as to why he had chosen that question. Were hobbies important to Asylum cats? Did they all like to collect little rocks or draw little pictures? He hoped if that was the case Stag wasn't dissapointed by the fact that hunting was probably one of the more generic hobbies Buzzardpaw could have picked. It briefly occurred to him that he would feel even worse than normal about disappointing this other cat, though he wasn't really sure why-- they had just met, after all. "And you? What do Asylum cats do for fun?" he asked, then followed up, realizing the better question was probably: "What do you do for fun?"

"I'm not the best at hunting either, but the difference is that i dislike it. I was only raise to fight, so i was never taught how to hunt. I almost never catch anything." He giggled at the end of the sentence, raising his amber eyes to meet Buzzardpaw's. He was starting to grow more comfortable with the conversation even though he had thought he ruined it a few moments before. "I don't think it's boring at all. It's not as if my hobbies are more interesting. Besides, i don't think any hobbies are boring." He paused when Buzzardpaw began to speak again, listening as he repeated the question back to him. Technically it was two questions, but he really only thought about the second one, as every Asylum cat did different things.

What did he like to do? A moment of silence filled the empty conversation while he thought, soon coming up with an answer. "Well, I think i like to talk to my friends, although i haven't seen them in quite a while. Oh- and i also like to watch the sun rise." Hesitation lingered in his words as he muttered the last sentence, feeling a rush of embarrassment. It felt against his job and appearance to like something that was considered soft like that. Even so, he was sure that Buzzardpaw wouldn't mind. Something about being in the other tom's presence made him feel comfortable. Maybe Buzzardpaw liked sunrises too? Taking a deep breath, he continued. "I think the orange and red colors on the morning sky look pretty, the way their bright colors tint the clouds pink- and the way the morning breeze rushes through my fur makes me feel exhilarated and happy." He smiled at the thought, and when he looked over at Buzzardpaw he smiled even more. When he looked at the other tom, in that moment, it was as if every bit of energy in his body was pricking at his pelt. His heart beat faster and he grew restless, kneading his claws into the frozen ground. He didn't know what this was, but he liked it. "Y'know, i'm glad i chose you to have a conversation with. I've been feeling a bit lonely here lately, and you're nice to talk to." He cast a small smile to the other tom averting his eyes. He made a mental note to try talking to Buzzardpaw more after this. Perhaps they could get to know each other better?

Buzzardpaw nodded rhythmically, happy at the reassurance that Stag didn't think his hobby was boring.

He listened as intently as he could as his new friend began to talk about the things he enjoyed. The sunset... Buzzardpaw had never really thought of just looking at things as a hobby-- in no small part due to the fact that he only had any kind of sight in one eye. But the way Stag described it, it sounded beautiful. He wished he could see it like that; but he did his best to picture it through the other cat's eyes. "I'm partially blind," the small tom admitted, not sure why he was readily confessing a weakness to someone who was ostensibly an enemy "So I've never thought about, just. Seeing things to see them. Like a sunset. But I like hearing you describe it,"

Buzzardpaw broke into a lopsided but undoubtedly happy smile as Stag continued to speak.

Nice to talk to...? He didn't think usually others thought of him as nice to talk to. But he was glad-- really glad-- that someone did. And he thought Stag was rather nice to talk to, too.

"I'm glad you talked to me, too," he said. "Maybe we could talk more sometime?"

Stag had to admit he was a bit surprised when Buzzardpaw revealed that he was partially blind. Guilt pricked at his stomach now that he knew, especially considering how Buzzardpaw would never be able to see things the same was he did. To him, it was as if he were rubbing it in. "Oh i'm sorry, i didn't know..." His words trailed off, thinking he may have offended Buzzardpaw, but when the other tom talked about how he enjoyed hearing how he described things, he felt a bit better. "Maybe i could describe more things for you then." A smile formed on his muzzle as he stood up, turning his gaze toward the sun, trying to tell the time. it was rather difficult because of the clouds, but he decided that he might try joining a patrol.

Turning his focus back to Buzzardpaw, he felt relieved when he felt the end of the conversation coming. One thing he was horrible at was having to end conversations, he could never tell when to end them or how, it was as if he always made it awkward. "Maybe we could talk again sometime, yeah. " He nodded his head in agreeance before dipping his head in farewell to the tom. "I'll talk to you later, Buzzardpaw. Enjoy your day!" Turning away, he started toward the camp entrance to see if some cat wanted to go on patrol.