The Fool [C]

Remaining an apprentice had left Cloverpaw feeling.. antsy, to say the least.

It's not like she held any resentment towards the newest warriors, and of course she couldn't bear any ill will towards Ivystar; however, she couldn't help but watch the older cats, the way the Clan trusted them, respected them.. She wanted more than anything to become a warrior. Provide for and protect her family in full– and, though she didn't want to admit it, she was jealous of their freedom. Somedays she felt like an oversized kit.

Especially with the fresh memories of some recent failed hunting parties heavy on her mind, the she-cat was determined to do something to prove she was ready to become a warrior. So, instead of brooding, she thought. She spent the whole day thinking, plans falling in to place as she went about her duties. Eventually, the sun had started to set, and after the last patrol of the day returned, cats started turning into their nests.

Perfect. Cloverpaw hovered by the mouth of the apprentice's den, watching the last few of her Clanmates slip away into their own dens for the night. With a deep breath, she pushed out into camp, trotting along to nose at the outer barrier. She wasn't sure if there were warriors posted at the entrance, but she couldn't take the chance. Finding a small gap just barely large enough for a cat as small as she to fit through, she wriggled out into the open, wading through the river that encircled them.

Her pace was steady as she padded through the territory. Despite all her plotting, truthfully she wasn't entirely sure what she had intended to do. Hunt, she would periodically remind herself. Do something good. She was determined to make up for the prey she'd lost. Despite her motivations, she couldn't help but feel nerves start to rise the farther from camp she got.

It got harder to ignore the voice nagging at the back of her head, hissing rather unhelpful reminders that apprentices had no business being out alone, and especially not this late. Everything in her mind was protesting, nearly begging her to go back, insisting there was no good to come of breaking rules. Her heart was louder, though, and she was going to do something good.

After a while of near-aimless wandering and increased frustration at not finding a single sign of prey, Cloverpaw could hear the distant sound of water. She hadn't been near the river for most of her journey, choosing to venture through the beeches, but maybe the river would be better. She had proven good at fishing, so maybe she would have better luck with that.

The quiet sound of babbling had gradually turned into a rolling thunder as she drew closer, and soon enough, she was met with a horrifying sight. Breath catching in her throat, the apprentice shrank down, all her fur standing on end. She had heard plenty of horror stories about the Gorge, and apprentices were strictly forbidden from being here unsupervised. All her worries about rule-breaking and making mistakes came to a head, but with a shake of her pelt to ground herself, she reminded herself of why she'd gone into the territory anyway. This was something she had to do.

Parting her jaw to scent for prey, she quickly picked up a familiar smell — mouse. The sun had set further, painting the sky a dusky purple, and the last few blazes of sunlight did little to help. But she was able to pinpoint where it was soon enough, telltale snuffling giving it away. Zeroing in on it, she waited a few precious heartbeats, then leaped.

Outstretched claws met soft fur, and with a squeal the mouse gave a final breath. Instantly, all anxieties were forgotten, and Cloverpaw beamed at her catch. "Yes! Yes, finally!" she cried, picking up her kill gently. She was so caught up in celebrating, she hadn't picked up outsider scent, hadn't even noticed she wasn't alone out here.

Tarot had been wandering near the gorge himself, walking along its edge with deft steps as his striking violet eyes scanned the torrent below. He had recently finished an appetizing meal and had left the remains in a stale-smelling fox den, cleaning the scent of the victim from his fur. He wasn't stupid, after all, best let the clan cats think that a fox is responsible for the feline remains rather than him.

He had paused at the strong scent of mingled fish oils and feline (along with other such components), and from the tales he heard from the few rogues he had come across, it was likely the border to 'Riverclan' (Honestly, who came up with such dull names? For a society of cats, they were rather uncreative).

Heedless of the border he passed over it, nose barely twitching at the pungent scent for he had lived in the midst of scents far worse than measly fish. Pawsteps soft, the silk-furred tom had paused at a rocky outcropping hanging the slightest bit over the drop of the gorge, settling for a while, he had simply watched the sunset, and, estimating the timing of the patrolling cats after weeks of observing the schedule, had hidden in another abandoned den, what animal's old hovel he had taken over he didn't know and didn't particularly care. It was convenient that the wind was blowing toward the gorge or else his trail might've been caught easier.

After a while of waiting, he stepped out of the den, long ears perked as he scoped the surroundings, the faint light reflected from his eyes, making them glint ominously in the dimming evening. Upon judging it safe, he continued on, deeper into the territory. Feeling a tad peckish the tom decided to try and snag a small meal, maybe a mouse or shrew. He soon heard the tell-tale rustling of his target and started heading toward it.

Tarot paused though when he caught another scent, from a lone feline. It smelt similar to the border so he decided it safe to assume they were of Riverclan. For a moment he paused, mind mulling over the possibility of a trap, he soon dismissed the thought though. The tom searched for the source, crouched and hidden in the underbrush thanks to his dark, broken-up pelt pattern. The wind was blowing toward him so he knew he wouldn't be scented immediately.

The cat of interest eventually arrived, they paused, ears perking, but judging from the direction they were facing he was quite sure it was only because of the mouse they seemed to both be hunting. He let her catch it, and upon hearing the early celebration smirked in amusement, the action making the grey scars adorning his face, wrinkle stiffly. His sharp mind hatched up an idea, and he wasn't opposed to it, what was the harm in a little fun, hm?

Creeping forward with eerily soft steps, he kept his hues locked onto his target, judging the distance and action that would be needed to acquire it. After a moment, wherein he let his muscles coil, he pounced, soaring through the night sky in an agile arc directly toward the younger cat. He did, indeed, hit his target and with a small spray of red, landed on the other side of the Riverclaner.

He paused for a moment, letting his brain catch up, and rose from his crouched position, feeling familiar red dot his muzzle. Tail swishing, feathery fur swaying in the light breeze, he rose his head, turning to face the other cat.

In his maw, the mouse, very politely killed for him by the other cat. It was his anyways, he had spotted it first.

Opening his jaw he let it drow to his paws, curling one set of foreclaws over its corpse like a cage. His charming face and shifted into mischievous amusement, gently sloping bridge of his nose framed against the slight moonlight, the silvery patches on the tip of his muzzle (Looking slightly like a cat mustache) were curled with his mirthful smile.

"Why thank you for catching this mouse for me." He purred, violet eyes glinting impishly, "You clan cats are... too kind, truly." He chuckled, tone smooth. The irony of his own statement tickled his funnybone, seeing as how his past run-in with a particular Windclan patrol had been far from civil.

The strange tom looked the other cat over, their pelt seemed soft, unsurprising seeing as how the oils gained from eating fish was rather healthy for one's fur. Their size seemed a tad smaller than an average adult cat, indicating that they either were simply a shorter breed or were an... what were they called again... ah yes, 'apprentice.' All in all, not much to go by.

His tail curled, no matter, he had already eaten recently after all. This mouse would likely be enough to tide him over until morn, then maybe he'd catch a rabbit or a marmot.

Tarot then settled casually on his haunches, one paw still covering the mouse, and showed no threatening behaviours. Tilting his head slightly, a flash of curiosity glinted in his gaze. "A nice night for a stroll, don't you think? The gorge is terribly daunting for most cats, but I find it holds a sort of untouchable beauty. No matter what happens, it'll hold its majesty, even if the twolegs decide they want to claim this land, even if this forest dies, it will remain, eternal in its grandeur."

His smooth voice held a haunting quality, and he turned his gaze to the waterfall cascading below the twoleg bridge. He believed he could be a rather good storyteller, a fact made known to him after he told a cautionary tale to two kits in the streets, who he remembered was enraptured by the tall tale he told, eyes wide as they took everything in. After he had finished that tale they had left, thanking him for the story... and he remembered thinking that they probably hadn't gotten the message he was trying to tell them in the slightest...

Anyhow, one ear remained facing the molly as he observed the splendour of the gorge, eyes reflecting the slowly-appearing stars above. He idly waited to see how they'd respond, curious to see if they were as brutish as some clan cats he had met before... or some rogues, but those ones mysteriously disappeared after calling him 'a rat-nosed weakling'. All in all that day had ended with his stomach full, so he supposed it wasn't one of his worst ventures.

A purr had just started to build in the young cat's throat, the excitement of her lone catch yet to wash away. She was just about to trot off, find somewhere suitable to bury it so she could safely wander to see what else she could catch, but a rustle behind her made her ear twitch.

Another mouse? She turned her head to invesitgate, but her response was too slow; all at once she was hit with the familiar, but equally strange scent of cat, and before she even had time to process that there was a bolt of fur shooting past her. Too many things had happened to quickly, and Cloverpaw's head was spinning, but two things stood out in her mind:

There was a cat in front of her who's scent she couldn't place, and he had stolen her mouse.

Immediately she was on the defensive, her spine arching, tail lashing wildly. With her fur fluffed out, she looked twice her size, almost convincing enough to look the part of a warrior, but something told her there was no fooling this cat.

"I didn't catch it for you!" She cried, the waver in her tone further betraying her age— and her fear. She had never encountered a rogue before, and of course tonight would be the night for it. That was just her luck.

The tom.. didn't seem to be an active threat, though. He seemed friendly enough, even though he had scared her halfway out of her pelt. She looked him over, noting the scars across his face, the careful and composed way he held himself..

He didn't seem an active threat, but Cloverpaw felt unsettled.

Willing her fur flat, she took a few steps forward, gaze flickering between his shocking violet eyes and the mouse he'd stolen. His claws guarded it carefully, so that catch seemed like a loss. She huffed a quiet foxdung to herself, and was about to continue objecting, but the stranger started speaking before she could.

Truthfully, his speech was a little lost on her. She hadn't exactly spent much time thinking about things like that.. but he was right, she guessed. Looking up, Cloverpaw saw the sun had finally disappeared for the day, and stars were already speckling the sky. "Well.. I guess it is nice, but– but who are you?" The she-cat looked down, and she realized while she'd been watching the sky and listening to him marvel at natural wonders, she had drifted slightly closer. She bristled and snorted indignantly, as if he'd personally drawn her closer.

Picking up as authoritative a tone as she could, Cloverpaw pressed, "And what are you doing out here?" She was focused on puffing her chest out when she spoke, straightening her shoulders to look tall. Maybe her initial reaction wasn't a good way to go, but she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that came with her unexpected company, especially with the way he spoke. She needed some appearance of respectability, needed to give off at least the idea she could defend herself if it came down to it.

The sight of the possible apprentice puffing up to twice her size made him smother a laugh. Amusement glinting in his eyes, he tamed the laughter, and let it out as a deep, smooth chuckle. His free paw raised to his muzzle; honestly, the sight of a cat becoming a ball of fur was never threatening to him, no, instead it just looked ridiculously humorous.

Her exclamation made him glance up, chuckle fading, and his smiling muzzle never shifted as he responded with his rich voice "Well I had been hunting it, but then you came along and saved me the trouble. So I assumed it was out of the kindness of your heart. Besides, you clan cats are supposed to be more skilled than lowly loners, no? I'm sure you'll be able to catch another easily." His eyes curved slightly in a vague smiling crescent moon shape, and he rose a teasing brow, "Or... do you have troubles with hunting?." He tilted his head in question, already formulating responses if the answer was either 'yes' or 'no'.

His gaze lingered on the gorge for a bit, admiring the ever-shifting reflection of the stars that churned on the river below. It was an almost hypnotizing sight, truly, even if he could only see a sliver of it from his perspective. He glanced up though and watched the molly drift closer. The action was obviously unconscious because they still looked to the sky, listening to his entrancing words. His gaze drifted to her eyes, idly noting their green colour, now deeper in the night's darkness, there too, he could see stars, fixations in the world even more eternal than the gorge.

When she snapped out of it and looked at him, she'd see that mildly irritating amusement painted on his expression. He observed her straighten her posture, trying to look as tough as the warriors she likely looked up to, the action just made him chuckle before answering her questions.

"My name is Tarot, I am merely a humble loner from the twolegplace who wishes to explore the world away from my birthplace." He said calmly, tail plumming as he curled it over itself. "I simply came here to search for a snack to tide me over through the night, and, I admit, because of a slight curiosity about how clan cats behave."

He took a moment to inhale the clean air, and to admire the new type of life that surrounded him, so different from rushing monsters and twolegs churning around like ants in an upturned anthill. Tarot was not humbled by much, but the world? How big it was? How little it cared for him and his problems? That was something that was worthy to be humbled by, the thought of how life will continue long after his death, ever marching through more moons than any cat's life.

Tarot looked back to her, observing her wary posture, a let out a brief, melodic laugh, "No need to worry, unlike some rogues and loners, I do not bare claws or fangs to another cat unless pushed to do so. If you remain civil, so shall I." he purred. "Sit, relax, I shall depart by moonhigh, there is no need to chase me off your land. If you'd indulge in my curiosity, perhaps we could even converse? After all, strip away the titles, the different lifestyles, and we are merely both cats who happened upon each other in this strange, wide world." His tail shifted, curling around his paws and hiding his claimed meal from view.

His violet eyes were sharp with intrigue, unlike that patrol he had bumped into on the moors, this wayward apprentice seemed less likely to try and claw his face off. He was not upset by her wary defensiveness in the least, it was merely a natural, and healthy, reaction to a stranger, but she was using words before actions, which was something he could appreciate.

Perhaps there was hope for these clan cats yet. Tarot wasn't one to base everything on first impressions, he only decided on a point of view after gathering information on the subject he was gauging. The tactic helped him gather more allies than most.

"I supposed it'd only be polite to ask for your name first, of course." He hummed.

He hadn't made any moves of aggression since he had appeared, well, other than snatching the mouse, but that was more a playful impulse than anything he'd intended to be malicious. He had originally come for food, and he didn't intend to leave without any.

And perhaps, in the meantime, he'd make an ally in Riverclan. Of course, that depended on how this apprentice intended to act towards him first.

He'd never be allies with rude cats, after all.

Heat rose to Cloverpaw's ears as the cat explained he had already been stalking the mouse and she had stolen it from him. She mumbled a soft 'oh,' head hanging. Entirely unintentional, but still, she felt bad about it — he shouldn't have to starve just because she wanted to make a point to herself.

She was about to apologize, but the nudge at her hunting skills made her hackles raise, and she spat out, "I'm fine at hunting! I'm just– I'm still learning." Her defensiveness had quickly turned into a bashful murmur, and halfway through her sentence she realized she probably shouldn't have said anything about 'still learning'. Curses.

Soon enough, he had started to speak, and Cloverpaw found herself sitting down so she could listen to what he said. Tarot.. that was a funny name, but he'd probably say Clan names were funny, too. She bit her tongue and turned her ears toward him.

The reassurance that he was no threat unless provoked soothed the apprentice's nerves, and she allowed her body to relax. He could very well be lying, but he'd shown no real malice.. yet. She just hoped her earlier hostiliry hadn't been a tipping point for him.

"We can talk, sure," she agreed, careful to keep her tone mild. "My– my name is Cloverpaw. I'm not supposed to be out here alone, really, but I guess I'm glad I am. Anyone else probably would have run you off. And–" She inhaled, realizing she had probably said too much again, but it was too late to just stop now. "And I'm curious too. I've never met a loner before, or seen twolegplace, or.. well lots of things." She tried a sheepish smile as she finished. She couldn't really consider this cat a friend, but maybe he wouldn't be so bad.

Maybe if she was nice enough and could get that mouse back..

Tarot hummed at the defensive response he got from the now-confirmed apprentice, "So you'd be what clan cats call an 'apprentice' then, right?" He smiled, not a mischievous one, "I know a few things from some rogue's I've come across, and I assure you, it is nothing to be ashamed of, everyone learns at some point." He gestured to himself with one paw, "I myself only mastered hunting around eight moons ago." He purred slightly, smile seeming more friendly than the impish smirks he had been giving before.

He observed as the molly began to relax, and a brief smirk flashed across his muzzle, though it swiftly returned to its previous lax smile, the transition barely noticeable. He supposed he should thank his own acting ability for how easily he could lull most cats into a sense of, at least, slight security. He'd admit when he first escaped that cramped, disease-ridden twoleg nest he was not the most subtle about his dark impulses, it had taken him a while to keep them in check to the point of mastering his ability to hide it all with charming civility. He'd only get better at it as he grew his world.

Tarot listened as she continued to speak, another brief purr escaped him when she accepted his offer to converse, just as quiet as the last one. Her introduction made him tilt his head. She almost seemed to cut herself off again, bringing that glint of amusement to his eyes. Who was she trying to hide from? Did clan cats really try to keep their kits and apprentices from being curious about such things?

It was conditioning if that was the case. The clans tried to mould their young one's minds to their liking, it seemed. He wouldn't be surprised if they told all apprentices that loners and rogues were all savages (Which, he'd admit' wasn't entirely wrong, some loners weren't that pleasant, and most of the few rogues he'd met seemed to have that sort of quality to them). What an interesting cage these cats have made for themselves, it only made him want to understand it all more.

"A pleasure to meet you, Cloverpaw." He responded smoothly. "Going by what you're saying, I suppose I should count myself lucky to have run into you this fine night." He chuckled "I'd be happy to enlighten you on the aspects of the world beyond this forest." He briefly took a moment to lap at his paw, running it over his face. His scars occasionally bothered him with phantom stings. Upon finishing that he glanced to the sky, observing the position of the moon. They had some good time to spare before the next patrol would come around. "Let's hope no one back at your 'camp' notices your absence, hm? It would be a shame if our time was cut short."

Ear flitting, he settled into a crouching sit, tail twitching slightly. "You know, when I first heard about cats who had formed a cohesive community of individual groups out here. I was impressed. Back in the twoleg place, any groups that were formed were usually small, and mildly chaotic, no leaders, no healing cats, just groups of felines banding together for safety against things such as dogs, other cats, and twolegs." He let the words linger for a moment, musing on his next ones. "But now that I've observed the clans I've found that such a feat comes with a few downfalls..." His eyes lidded slightly in musing. "In creating such a society you've all rather effectively shrunk what you view of the world. Bound in borders, you've cut off the freedom of exploring the world in its full form, a thing most loners enjoy."

He refocused, glancing at Cloverpaw, brow raised, "Tell me, would you be condoned by your clanmates if you spoke of your curiosity towards the outside world? Even if not, do you feel like you would be silently judged for it?" he tilted his head, gaze inquisitive. A rush of wind picked up around them, making his fur shift as if alive, and making the grass framing his form bow around him.

His striking violet hues glinted in the shadows dim, the pupils almost disappearing in the reflection of the moon. For a while, he mused, wondering how far he could lead this apprentice astray from the norms within her clan, wondering what effect it would bring to her world. What turmoil could he make with such an opportunity? A coil of excitement slithered through his stomach in light of the possibilities ahead of him.

Tarot was a tom that enjoyed control, craved it. It was only natural after living his kithood to almost his entire adulthood in a place where he had no power. Once he had escaped that dark place and realized he had full sway over his future, he was, at first, daunted... but after getting the first taste of it he strived for that control. Now here he was, standing in the shadows and watching a society of felines live in the most curious of ways, and he, an outsider, had the power to control what happens in their future at the tip of his paws.

His claws flexed, curling into the dirt, the action hidden by his plummed tail. His eyes sharpened in light of this realization, before slowly easing back into their casual glow. "Well, now that you have an opportunity to indulge in your curiosity, tell me, what would you like to learn about first?"

Young minds were easily affected by those around them, likely for most apprentices, the ones moulding them were clanmates and peers. Now here he was, with a chance to influence a young mind. He'd have to tread carefully, it would be quite a shame to have this opportunity slip through his hungry claws. Perhaps if he succeeded, he'd be able to meet more cats like Clover, cats who yearned to know what it was like to live outside the boundaries of their invisible cages.

If so... what effect could he garner from widening their views? What impact would such a 'rebellious' seed planted in the bed of the clans have? The curiosity from that thought briefly sharpened in his mind, and he stored it away for further inspection in the future. He must focus on the present... for now.

At least the situation made sure this apprentice was not on the list dedicated to the darker attributes of his characters. Luckily he didn't think it'd make a terrible impact on his meal plans. Besides, it would be such a shame for sich a bright light to be snuffed out by his shadow.

Almost all of her anxieties had melted away the longer they sat together. Cloverpaw was still nervous, sure, and something about Tarot still made her fur buzz with unease, but.. he had been kind so far, and he had promised continued kindness if she extended the same to him. She had no cruelty in her, and even if she wanted to run him off, to suddenly leap at him claws first..

He had promised to teach her about his world if she shared hers. It was too good an opportunity to pass up; she may never get this chance again.

"I'm an apprentice, yeah," she confirmed idly, as if the title meant nothing, though her eyes were lit by pride as she said the words. An apprentice of RiverClan, soon to be warrior! It baffled her that he had only learned to hunt properly within her lifetime. He seemed so much older than her, like he knew so much.. she hardly had time to dwell on it though, because the mention of her camp drew back her weariness.

No one would have noticed her missing, right? Maybe Sneezingpaw had woke herself up in the middle of the night with a sneezing fit again and had already let half the forest know RiverClan was suddenly missing a cat, or maybe Yarrowpaw had turned over in his nest next to hers and saw she wasn't there..

The she-cat fidgeted, looking anxiously over her shoulder. Maybe I should.. But, no. She had to keep reminding herself Tarot had presented a golden opportunity to her. He had turned the conversation towards twolegplace, and he had quickly earned her attention back.

"No leaders? No medicine cats? I– I can't imagine that. What if cats got sick, or hurt? Didn't they look after each other?" She tried to picture the harsh cold stone as it'd been described to her. Clan cats considered twolegplace a nightmare in general, but the thought of pseudo-Clans not even caring for their own.. it made her shudder. She couldn't imagine that, having no family, no friends to fall back to. She suddenly felt cold, and the gusting wind did nothing to help.

When she looked back at him fully, she suddenly noticed how strikingly different their pelts were. His dark, swirled fur made sure he was almost hidden in the blanket of nighttime. Were it not for the light of the moon, and the fact they were sat right next to each other, she was afraid she would never have noticed him at all. Something told her Tarot was not the kind of cat she would want to be oblivious too.

She looked down at herself, her chest, her paws.. white fur everywhere. A striking blaze of pale in the darkness.

All of a sudden, Cloverpaw felt very exposed, and being fixed in his piercing gaze didn't help. She shifted her weight, trying to look anywhere but directly at him.

A good place to look would be.. well, anywhere, really, but his talk of the world beyond had drew her eyes towards WindClan territory across the gorge. She had to narrow her eyes a bit, but when she focused she could see the grass swaying gently. She had never been somewhere so open, and had never had any real desire to, either, but Tarot made it all sound so tempting. Thoughts drifted to what she knew of the other Clan's territories, how vastly different they all were, and her paws started to itch with a familiar restlessness. It wasn't like she could wander across borders for no reason, because some cat would surely notice and press Ivystar on why there had been RiverClan scent on their land.

But this stretch of open air here belonged to them. She was free to come here as she pleased. So different from the babbling river, the beeches and willows that grew throughout the heart of RiverClan's territory.

Cloverpaw breathed in deep, as if she was trying to smell everything new about the world. Nothing came to her except the few mingled scents of different prey. It all felt new, anyway.

Tarot had asked her a question, hadn't he? She'd been a little lost in thought to hear it. Guessing what it was would probably be best. Yeah, definitely. Or circling back to the last thing she heard. "I.. I don't think my Clan would like it very much. I wouldn't get in trouble, but.. I think I'd be the 'weird one' pretty quickly." For all of her short life, she had loved her Clan fiercely, and had every expectation of a life lived defending them tooth and claw. But a world beyond, with so many new things to do, to learn, to see..

She shook her fur out to ground herself. She was a Clan cat at heart. But she couldn't be the first one to think this way, right?

"Is twolegplace really scary? Are the cats there really mean? Or, or–" she wrinkled her nose, thinking hard on another question to ask– "Where all have you been? Where do you like most? What do you do with no Clan to look after?"

He saw the glint of pride in the younger cat's eyes and smiled slightly, nodding to show he had heard her. It was fascinating to think cats could band together, be willing to die for each other on such a vast scale. Whatever tricks these felines had implemented overtime to garner such loyalty must be rather effective for such a clear result. "Pray tell, Cloverpow, how do you apprentices become warriors? I'm rather curious about how your system works, and with such effectiveness." He tilted his head, only plain curiosity in his eyes, not a hint of malice. It wasn't like he planned to use such information for himself, he was simply inquisitive about the subject, and wanted to know more about how these felines had created a society such as this. Was it complex? Simple? He doubted it was anything like what twolegs had (After moons of observation he realized the chaos of twolegs was simply a product of a complex society beyond his comprehension).

He paused, leaning back, his curiosity was making his questions rather rash. He supposed he should clarify his intentions. "I apologize if my inquiries seem rather blunt, but I assure you I just want to understand this new world I find myself in better." He dipped his head slightly, tail twitching.

His comment about the possibility of molly's peers discovering her disappearance garnered a reaction, one of anxiety, understandably. His tail twitched. "If they do stumble upon us would you like to make a plan so you aren't accused of being some sort of traitor? We could make it look like I was, say, an attacker that you fended off oh so bravely. Perhaps a controlled fight?" He blinked, cocking his head. "Merely suggestions, if you feel confident enough we could leave it be and hope for the best, hm?"

He cast his gaze to where the apprentice had been looking, guessing that the Riverclan camp was in that direction. Something to note for the future he supposed, more so he knew how to avoid walking too close to it if anything. Idly he flattened the fur on his chest, trying to make sure it wouldn't mat (He had problems with matting there before, and mats were terribly annoying to get out).

Her comment about how the clan would think of her if she revealed her slight interest in the outside world made his ear twitch, and his gaze return to her. "Even that slight effect is rather faulty, in my opinion. Peer pressure, the dislike of those you look up to. It can put a strain on young cats' minds." His voice was calm and his gaze level as he spoke. "Wouldn't it make more sense to accept such a curiosity? Especially one so natural for any young cat, not just clan cats? Trying to pressure one into thinking they are 'weird' for such simple curiosities could only grow into something more harmful, something that may even end up pushing young cats away from the clan due to feeling excluded." He reasoned idly.

"But I suppose they think the opposite, that it will ensure loyalty. Faulty thinking in my opinion, if the cat in question leaves due to that curiosity then so be it. In the end, making them feel estranged for it will only make what once could've been neutral rogues, into hateful ones." Honestly he was less trying to make his new companion see his views, and more just thinking out loud.

Tarot turned the thought around in his mind, mulling over it more, eyes closed as he thought. Running into a few more ideas born from such a small amount of information, he soon drifted into deep thought. While he was thinking, his body went rather still, tail only occasionally shifting, only his breathing and slightly swivelling ears betraying that he had not simply just turned into a statue.

His violet optics opened as she lept into questioning him after his offer, with about as much eagerness as he had. In response, Tarot chuckled lightly. The eagerness of the healthy young cat was rather refreshing, more often than not the tom ran into older or elderly loners and rogues, so the change in company was pleasant. "The twolegplace is about as scary as this forest is, you face the same amount of danger, but the dangers are just different. Common threats are monsters, dogs, twolegs, and other cats. In the end, it is something you simply adapt to, just as the clan cats have adapted to the forest, so too have loners adapted to the twolegplace." He paused, thinking, "I suppose the only reason it could be scarier than the wilderness would be the fact that you are less protected, since there are no clans there, and if there were, they wouldn't last long."

He shifted to the next question. "Mean? No, not exactly, there are mean cats there, but more often than not you would simply see them as mean because they are more guarded, wary, you have to be out there. When all you can rely on is yourself, you forget how to trust, or even talk, to other cats. It wears on you after a while, as it's a constant fight for survival." He hummed, "Out there it's more common to see lone cats than groups because the stakes are always high, that sort of tension makes it rather easy for groups to fall apart." He smiled in amusement.

"Ironically, twolegs do occasionally help out, be it by chasing off dogs terrorizing cats, or placing out food and water for us, maybe even breaking up fights between two felines. Sadly it isn't too common to see a twoleg do such a thing. More likely they'll try to capture cats, I've seen it happen a few times, and I've never seen the cats it happens to again. This is why stealth is often key in the twolegplace."

He switched his attention to her more personal questions, humming slightly as he mulled them over more. It took a moment before he answered. "Where have I been? Well, I've been inside a twoleg nest, for most of my life, in fact." He paused, "I wouldn't call myself an ex-kittypet though, I and the other cats inside that place were barely distinguishable from the cats outside and unowned by twolegs, in fact, in some ways, we were worse, more... aggressive." He chuckled, "But our situation was what forced us to be more feral, I'd say."

He fully settled, shuffling his paws under his body, making them virtually disappear behind his silky coat. "Along with that I've been to many places in the twolegplace, a rather large chunk of my life has been within that forest of stone. Now, there are many stories I could tell you from places I've been in there, ventures I've had." He smiled in amusement, raising a brow, "But I doubt I'd have time to regale them all to you this night, hardly before moonhigh, that's for certain."

He chuckled. "Only recently have I been here, in the wilderness, I've travelled along the borders of the clan, occasionally through their territories." His voice lowered to a playful conspiratorial whisper, and he leaned closer like a kit about to tell an elder an important secret. "But don't tell anyone of that. It would truly be such a dampener on this new chapter of my life if you did." His tone was rather playful as he said this, a mirthful smile having fixed itself on his muzzle. He obviously didn't expect Clover to follow his request if she had to tell it.

He leaned back, smile returning back to its lax position. "Which place I like best?." He hummed, "That's a tricky one. I supposed I'd be torn between right here, looking over the gorge, and atop a tall twoleg's nest, looking over the twolegplace at night." He cast his mind back to the memory to give a proper description, "When night falls in the twolegplace, lights start sparking to life, all over its vast collection of nests. I can only describe it as the stars having fallen to the ground, for from that height it truly looks like that." His tone softened as he reminisced, "Everything becomes quieter as the twolegs go and sleep, like an eerie stillness overtakes everything, like time stops. When I saw that, I couldn't help but marvel at all the twolegs have created, the world they've built for themselves. It's something a cat could never see in the wilderness. They've tamed light, tamed wind and earth, water and lightning!"

He looked back at Clover "I wouldn't be surprised if they had created even larger twolegplaces for themselves elsewhere in this vast world. Imagine how many stars would appear on the earth at night if we found one that stretched even past the mountains?" He let the lull in the conversation stretch, giving the apprentice time to truly comprehend what he was saying, to take in the truth that rang through his voice as he spoke of the wonders twolegs had accomplished. Tarot may not comprehend twolegs and their actions or abilities at all, but that didn't stop them from viewing them with even mild awe. They were frighting creatures, that was for sure, but they were also amazing ones.

After he deemed the silence to have gone on long enough, he continued. "That, in part, explains my answer to your next question. What do I do without a clan? Two things, try to survive, and to explore as much as I can of the world I can reach on my own four paws. I have no doubt that I could find even more wonders in this world, ones beyond my current limit of imagination. In fact, I believe there are many, many things to discover in this world, such a vast amount spread so far, that I doubt I could see them all in my lifetime." He sat up, turning to the distance beyond Windclan, gesturing with his paw to the panoramic view of the night-shrouded land. "What lies beyond our view right now, do you suppose? What mysteries and creations that us cats had never seen before in our lives? Perhaps a pond stretched so wide that we cannot see its end? A waterfall so massive that we cannot see its bottom? A mountain so high that we cannot see its top? A land so flat that you could see the stars in the sky stretch on for seemingly an eternity, in perfect symmetry with the ground below?" He let out a breathless chuckle, looking back at Clover over his shoulder.

"In light of that, how could a cat unbound like me resist such an urge to go where no cat has gone before?" He smiled, "That is what I want to do one day, for now though, the clans have grasped my interest, and I still have not discovered all I could here." He shifted, facing the apprentice once more.

"Alas, before I continue prattling on endlessly of such possibilities, do you have any more questions? Perhaps you would like to hear a tale or two?" He smiled, seeming to enjoy the ability to speak to a cat with views so vastly different from his own.

It was probably a good thing that Clover had gotten on his good side, else this encounter might've gone very, very diffrently.

"Lots of training. Lots of it," the she-cat answered in a huff. "There isn't really a timeline for it. We get a mentor, and they teach us how to hunt, fight, show us borders.. we become warriors whenever they decide we're ready." That sentence had left her looking quite a bit dejected, but her mood turned around quickly and she perked right back up. "My mentor is RiverClan's leader." Her green eyes were glowing again. Nevermind how she felt about her apprenticeship; every time she remembered Ivystar had chosen her as an apprentice, she felt warm with glee. The leader's own!

...The leader's own, and some days she couldn't hunt right.

She sighed, but Tarot's prompting quickly pulled her out of her thoughts. "I doubt anyone will come this way. It's a bit far, and pretty late," she mewed, casting a wayward glance back towards camp. She wasn't sure if she was reassuring herself or him.. or if she was trying to avoid a fight, even one they planned ahead. An image flashed in her mind of Tarot letting her pin him before gracefully wriggling from under her and raking his claws over her throat. She looked back at him, giving him a long, studying look, and another shiver passed through her. "No, I think we'll be okay."

Despite Cloverpaw's near-chronic agitation and the gruesome thoughts that clouded her mind, she found it almost impossible not to listen to the tom. She felt enraptured by what he had to share, and more than a few times she wanted to cut in, overload him with questions midsentence, but something told her it wasn't in her best interests. Thinking back on what he'd said earlier and bloody fight scenes still rolling in her head, it would be best to stay as nice as possible.

The stories he had to share had been brief but nonetheless dazling to her. He had lead a life so different from hers, so– what was that? He had made no attempt to hide the fact he was capable of aggression when he'd promised earlier he only hurt deserving cats, but to outright admit it.. Cloverpaw shrank down, flattening herseld against the grass. She was about eye level with his paws, and she tried to look and see if his claws were unsheathed, but his feathery tail kept them neatly hidden.

She wouldn't let herself worry. She had done nothing wrong. She had been perfectly civil, hadn't she? The picture in her head had no blood this time– only Tarot sinking his teeth in her scruff, hauling her to the cliff's edge before them, letting her disappear into the tumultuous waters below.

She had done nothing wrong. Not a thing. Dread bubbled in her chest regardless, and she found herself enjoying his tales a lot less.

His mischief earned him a little smile, and his description f the view from above twolegplace turned the grin into a look of awe. Her stomach still churned with baseless— right? —anxiety, but the way he described it, a field of stars.. She tried to conjure up the image (anything to push her other thoughts away, really) and what she came up with was.. dazzling.

"I want to go to twolegplace," Cloverpaw murmured, almost to herself. Words she never, ever expected she would say, yet here she was. She couldn't imagine it really, setting a paw in that awful place, but she would gladly do it if she could climb atop one of their nests and spend a night watching the stars they had built for themselves.

Though she had lost her previous energy, now laying in the grass still and quiet as a mouse, the way he talked about the world stirred something in her. Unnerved as she may be by him, he had a point. So much to see, to do..

She sat back up, kneading the soft earth. "I wish I could live like you do, Tarot. You make it sound nice." Her voice was small as she stared out into the distance. She had never seen a mountain before, but if she watched the horizon long enough she could imagine what it would look like, towering far, far over their heads, casting a shadow over everything.

It would be beautiful.

He had offered her a choice. More questions, or a story.. her whiskers twitched, and she kept her gaze focused on the land stretched in front of them. "A story, please. I want to know all about your life." There was a slight purr to her voice, but no warmth in her expression; she looked distant, almost cold, and the rumbling sounded forced.

He blinked as she revealed that she was the apprentice to the Riverclan leader. He was surprised, honestly, not because she didn't seem like it, of course, but because somehow he had managed to meet a civil apprentice, who was also the ward of a clan leader. What luck, truly, this night was a bountiful one. It was already a good day for him, what with having a full meal of his favourite food and being witness to such a beautifully clear night, but this just made it all the more outstanding against the days before, and perhaps the days ahead.

His hues briefly flashed with the light of the moon as he shifted his head, and he hummed. "The apprentice of the leader? What an accomplishment! I'd assume that isn't a very common thing to happen." He purred in congratulations, "Yet you seems slightly downtrodden. Has something happened to dampen the excitement of such a fact?" He spoke words almost sounding concerned.

He watched the few emotions flash through the apprentice at his suggestion for a failsafe, and frowned, sensing he had possibly frightened her despite his only motive behind his suggestion being to keep the young cat out of such monumental trouble. "Ah, did I frighten you? I apologize, I was only hoping to make sure such a venomous label as 'traitor' wouldn't be given to you by own fault." He nodded, "I will push it no more then."

He enjoyed it when cats feared him, he'd admit. It sparked some sort of dark glee in him, to hold such power over another feline. He often treasured those moments, savouring them before they faded in time. He didn't often pass up such possibilities, to press that slight fear into terror. He supposed it was a trait he gained from his time in the twoleg nest, there they'd take joy where they could, but now that he was in the wide-open world, he learned when the time for such a thing was appropriate, and when it wasn't.

This moment was in the latter group. While Clover's anxiety amused him, he made sure the emotion didn't reach his facade. He was trying to gain trust, not lose it.

So he observed her as he regaled her with tales of the life of loners and a brief snippet of his own life. Despite appearing focused on giving her answers, he did note when her emotions suddenly shifted at the comprehension of tho small tale of his origins. Tarot then paused after finishing that section, noting as she shifted to peer at his paws. His brief moment of 'excitement' had long faded, and his claws were effectively sheathed once more.

Deducing that she was trying to see if he planned any harm against her, he moved his tail, revealing soft pows holding no glint of wicked claws. "You seem anxious, dear Cloverpaw." He meowed smoothly, "I assure you I have no intention of harming you, it would be a rather rude thing to do after you've kept yourself so civil." He gave her a reassuring purr, "From the few clan cats I have run into, you are one of the most polite, and so far I enjoy conversing with you."

His tail shifted fully, laying beside him laxly instead of remaining curled around his paws, a sign of trust on his part, something he only does with cats that please him.

"I may have spoken of aggression before, but that was moons ago, and the situation I was in demanded it lest I perish by the claws of other cats that were trapped there with me. I have long since tamed such brutish tactics and only employ them when necessary. Now, when we're having a pleasant chat, is not one of those times, I assure you." He gestured with one paw, "I do hope you can relax and enjoy this moment in time, but I understand if you feel you must remain wary."

Upon the dropping of the topic, he'd continue his tales, painting them in mesmerizing strokes, tone flowing with the scenes he created, violet gaze turned toward the sky as he mentioned the stars that the twolegs had harnessed which lit up when night fell. In the moment of silence between topics, he heard the quiet words uttered by the smaller molly, and shifted his gaze to her, hues seeming relaxed. A gentle smile painted his own expression.

"Perhaps one day I could show you. One can only grasp such an enchanting scene if they themselves witness it." He said, tone silky with threads of truth. He may not be the most ' morally upright' cat in the forest, but that doesn't mean he wasn't one to share experiences such as that with those that interested him. He believed that if any cat had the chance to take such sights in, they should, for it may be the last time in their life they could do so.

He observed as she sat back up, amused slightly by her restless kneading, and listened to her next words, meowed with a tone of longing, and perhaps regret. He tilted his head, examining her for a moment, before responding. "It can often be nice, but those moments of free elation come with a cost, just as everything in life does. We do not have access to healers, not easy access, at least." His tail twitched as he cast his mind back into his memories. "Simple things like gashes can easily lead to infections that we cannot cure, and can often end up dying from. Injuries such as broken legs or even just sprained ankles can lead to an inability to hunt, to find water, sometimes leading to starvation. Having kits can lead to the inability to care for them during times such as leaffall and leafbare, and they might not survive... or you might not survive, in light of the lack of food." He sighed.

"You have to learn to be as careful as possible. Rushing into battle with foes without judging whether it's worth it or without a plan is an easy death sentence for loners and rogues. That is why many of us seem so sly and cunning because you have to be. Either that or you have to be a mass of muscles and fur to absorb blows taken fights and to deliver strong attacks that disable opponents faster."

He paused to let that sink in, before countering his own words once again. "To many of us though, it's worth it. For independence, the freedom to live as you wish and wander where you want. To live life nearly to the fullest, and die feeling satisfied with the life you lived." He chuckled, "And for one such as me who has lived most their life trapped in the cage of a twoleg's nest, it is something that I doubt I could forgo for the life of a kittypet or a clan cat..." He smiled slightly.

"That's the thing with such different lifestyles, Cloverpaw, they have vastly opposing sets of gains and losses that come with them. It's important to choose which ones you'd be most satisfied to live with."

He glanced towards the distance, "Unlike me though, you were likely born into a single lifestyle, you were not given the choice of which one's you would be happier living in. I chose this way of living, you did not choose yours." He chuckled, "So perhaps, underneath all that fur and those ideals you have lived with, you have the heart of a loner." He cocked a brow, a playful glint in his lavender eyes, "Besides, it's never to late to decide. You are the only master of your life, no one else, no matter what other cats would like you to think." He shifted back into a sitting position, smiling lightly, "I can assure you though, whenever the day comes where you decided to choose how you want to live. I will not fault you for whatever choice you make." He chuckled, "After all, I am merely a stranger you met through  hunting the same prey on a clear night near the gorge."

His mouth curled into a mysterious smile, the emotion glinting in his hues unidentifiable in the light of the stars.

He kept his paws uncovered as the night continued, his posture never changing from its relaxed state. Ear twitching lightly as he observed the apprentice he opened new perspectives to, ones possibly opposing all that she had been taught to this night. He wondered what she would take away from their meeting, and he wondered if this would be their first and last meeting in this new chapter of their stories.

Curiosity flickered in his gaze as he observed the suddenly-unenthusiastic apprentice, and heard her request. He showed no outwards signs of noticing her forced purr. He supposed she'd either remain that way for the rest of their meeting or would gain a new spark as he spoke his stories into being.

"More about me you say?" He let out a light laugh. Noting her unfocused stare, the tom wondered what thoughts were coiling through her mind. "Well let me see here..." He hummed. "...I suppose I could regale you of one of the fights I had once gotten into with a dog."

He cast his mind back to fish for the details of the memory, closing his eyes briefly to focus. "It was a cold, harsh leafbare, and I had only been wandering the twolegplace for five moons." His tone took on the same enchanting quality as before, he may have the tongue of a snake, but he had the voice of a storyteller. "I had recently been chased out of the territory of a small group of loners and had a scratch on my leg from one of their warning blows. Most if not all of us were hungry, even forced to search through the leftovers of twoleg food." He hummed, "During my travel I came across a twoleg nest. It was vast, and empty, like an abandoned fox den. Sections of timbers crisscrossed over its various openings, but that did nothing to keep decayed holes from forming. It only looked all the more ominous against the night sky, only visible thanks to the captured lights I described to you before..."

"The stale scent of many animals that dwelt in the twolegplace lingered in the hauntingly hollow and lifeless structure which nature had already begun to reclaim." His eyes lidded as he seemed to be swept away by the memory, "I remember wondering why no groups of cats or packs of dogs had claimed such an area as their own. Of course, that fact made me rather wary of my surroundings." His tail gently lifted and dropped against the ground, "Heedless, and too curious for my own good, I continued toward it, padding on soft paws and slinking around in the patches of shadows that dotted the ground."

"Then, suddenly, I heard a sound like the rattling breaths of a great beast, eerily bouncing around inside the structure." His tone took on a haunting tone, much like an elder would use to describe an eerie experience to scare apprentices and kits who wanted to hear their stories. "I was filled with a burst of energy that, looking back, I probably should've used to run." He chuckled, "Alas, I was still rather new to surviving in such a vast world, and inquisitive as I was, I continued toward the eerily still twoleg nest." He glanced toward the apprentice, gauging her level of attention and interest. "Closer, closer I crept toward the hole in the structure I had noted. I jumped though, when I heard what seemed to be harsh, sharp growls that rattled with diseased hitches in breath. What beast's domain was I entering?" He shifted his eyes away from the apprentice once more, refocusing on his tale.

"Soon enough, curiosity led me through the hole. Inside it was dark and muggy, smelling of dust and times long passed. Odd constructs of the twolegs who once dwelt their remained, steel blotched with rust and age, insides seeming on the brink of collapsing under the strain of all it had survived. Dark puddles pooled near the base of the room's edges, the sound of dripping water echoing about like a cave." He took a breath, letting the image he had created stew for a bit.

"Bravely, or foolishly, I continued on, coming across platforms mimicking a hill's slope that led up to what seemed to be a room above the one I was in. There, I could hear the rattling inhales of the beast that rested there." His tone grew low. "Ears perked and pupils wide, I remained alert as I padded up to the next room, stepping on one platform, then another, making my way skyward." He paused, leaning down into a crouch. "Further, further, I trudged. I almost ran back down when one of the platforms I stepped on creaked ominously under even my slight weight."

"The rattling stopped, and I remember the utter fear that surged through me as I wondered if I had awoken the monster above... but no more sounds came, and against my better judgment, I traversed the last stretch of the slope and stepped foot on the timber floor of the new room." His tone reflected how he felt in that moment as if he were still living it and merely narrating his every move.

"Up there was a maze of walls and passages, each different in their stages of decay. It smelt of musty moisture and rot. The sight of such a scene trapped in the past was enough to make me pause and commit it to memory." he inhaled, almost as if he could still smell the scents he had described. "Alas, I was not one to stop an adventure partway. I continued on, and would've likely gotten lost had I not had my own scent trail to follow... each time the wood below creaked under me, I would freeze up, hoping that whatever lurked there with me would not hear."

"For a while, nothing went amiss... until I hit a dead-end, that is. When I was forced to stop I could hear something new joining the normal sounds of shifting timber. Frightened, and hesitant to head back the way I came, I could only sit there as I heard the sound grow closer... closer." His voice dropped an octave once again, and he mimicked the sound with a sinister air, "Click... click... click.. click... click." He stopped abruptly, cutting himself off in a startling sort of way, "... Silence." He let the tension build for a moment before continuing, "It was as if whatever had been stalking me had disappeared, like a ghost in the night. Was this perhaps some poor, trapped soul ever-searching for a way out of that labyrinth?" His tail twitched with the energy of his tale, eyes bright with the light of storytelling, "I stalked forward, closer to the lip of the dead-end's turn. Maybe it had been my imagination? Maybe in light of such a haunting place, I had conjured up a monster lurking in the depths of the gutted twoleg nest?"

His haunting tone seemed to spin the scene, conjuring it up in the night air, the crickets and noises of their surroundings seeming to fade as his voice took over the area. "I walked ever near to that corridor's end, my own doubts easing my bristling pelt and soothing my nerves."  

His tone took on tension once more though, "But upon turning to continue the way back, I saw a face! A maw of teeth and crazed eyes was right in front of me!" His tone grew louder sharply, disturbing the previous tension with a jolt of his past fear. "The beast lunged at me, and I barely dodged out of the way of its gnashing teeth. A rattling snarl rang out beside me, and I had to move swiftly to avoid its mangled jaw from entrapping my torso! It lept in front of me, forcing me back toward the dead end. Energy coursed through me in tune with my terror, my wide eyes taking in the details of some canine creature with a twisted face, jaw askew and one eye missing as if gashed out. Saliva dripped from its unnerving maw, and its thin, seemingly weak frame did nothing to calm my fear." His words picked up the pace, infusing everything with a new sort of energy. "I didn't have time to wonder about its disfigurements, all that mattered was that it was hungry, and I had wandered right into its den."

"It lept towards me with the ferocity of a creature determined to survive. Instinct took me over and I slid below it, running my claws along its patchy stomach. The creature let out a strangled, distorted yelp, twisting around in fury at my actions. Swiftly I took the opening, trying to dart back to the safety of the outside world. In my haste though, I was unable to follow my own trail and instead ended up at another dead end. I could hear the beast's thudding paws heading to my new location swiftly, and I had to act quick." He paused to catch a breath, conjuring up the next scene, "I hurriedly took in my surroundings, noting an old twoleg fixture sitting against the side of the corridor. Swiftly I lept atop it, abruptly ending the scent trail that the creature was likely following." His tone grew slower once more, matching the pace of this new part of his memory. "It soon came, slowing to a stop, nose to the ground as it paced around in search of my scent. for a while it did this, until, suddenly, it looked directly at me. Right then and there I thought my life was about to end... but instead, it did nothing." His tone took on an echo of his past confusion. "'Why', I wondered. Why had it not seen me... but after my mind cleared in light of the odd scene, I was able to fully examine the being before me."

Tarot's voice shifted as he revealed the answer to his own question. "I noticed that its other eye was a bulbous, milky blue. This dog was not only missing an eye, but it was also fully blind in the other." He smirked slightly, "As soon as I realized this... I knew that I had a chance to survive. If the beast was blind, it had to have been relying purely on scent and sound... I just had to strike at the right time, in the right places, and be as silent as possible." He glanced back to his listener, a]"The dog, for that was truly all it was, turned away, returning to its search for my scent. I didn't move even a mouse length as I waited, until its back was fully turned to me. When it was, I coiled my muscles, forcing as much energy as I could into this one move. In a burst, I lept atop its back, hooking in my claws to keep grip just in time for the creature to begin thrashing and snapping at my position."[/b] He shifted, talons digging into the soil below as if he were reliving the memory, his voice was full of energy born from the past event.

"Only when it stopped jumping and kicking did I truly strike. Lunging forward to its face, I clawed its nose, talons trailing up and gashing its ear as well in the path of destruction." He raised a paw, striking at the air before them in a mimic of the slash he depicted in his tale. When he lowered his foreleg back down he continued, "Immediately it howled tossing its head and sending me sailing through the air. Landing on my paws, I didn't stay to watch it try to regain its bearings. Instead, I took off in a burst, trying to keep my strides as quiet as I could despite my surge of energy born from the possibility of escape. It was really only luck that I made it back down to the bottom room and scrambled back out of the hole I had entered in." He eased as the climax of his story finished, and the conclusion drew near.

"Only when I reached the edge of the thunderpath I had crossed before did I stop to look back. As my breathing calmed, and the haze of fear and elation disappeared, I could hear the howls of the beast within, enraged that it had lost its meal, and its sense of smell." He smiled, "Turning, I left that cursed structure behind, continuing my journey through the twolegplace, and vowing to never enter any structures like that one again." He eased back on his haunches, sitting straight once again.

"I learned two very important lessons from that encounter. First, never enter places that your instincts tell you not to unless you know it's unoccupied... and second, always observe your opponents before reacting. If I had noticed the dog was blind sooner instead of being blinded by fear, I likely could've escaped faster." He imparted his lessons onto the apprentice that had been listening to his story, tone relaxed once again, and calm smile back in place on his muzzle.

"I think this knowledge can be used for clan cats just as much as it can be used for loners, hm?" He chuckled. Then paused, "Ah, also, if you ever find yourself face to face with a dog and you cannot escape, go for the nose, it is a very sensitive spot for canines, and if damaged can take away one of their best tools. This goes for foxes as well."

He glanced to the molly, "Keep hold of this information. It may save your life in the future."

By StarClan, going through so many emotions at once was.. exhausting.

Adrenaline, fear, anger, anxiety, contentment– back to fear and anxiety. And, slowly, back to a state of ease.

Cloverpaw heaved a sigh, more world-weary a sound than a cat her age had any right to make, and she looked up at Tarot with warm eyes.

"Thank you," she mewed, voice soft. "I'm sorry for worrying so much. You're kind." She felt if she blinked too long, she would see more awful things, but he had done everything to reassure her — he had even wordlessly moved his tail, and though she said nothing of the act either, relief was painted on her face. There would be no violence tonight; after all, everything he said he'd done had been in the past. She was safe here, and she was going to do just as he'd said and enjoy their time together.

In the quiet between his words, she gave what he had said thought. No medicine cats to look after them? He had said as much already, but still, it baffled her. She stuck out a paw, turning it over slowly as if she was trying to see straight through the fur and into her bones, imagining what it would be like, huddled down in the snow with a leg twisted the wrong way, belly aching with hunger.

Snow and starvation, she had never experienced. However, they didn't sound pleasant, especially not at the same time.

But on the contrary, he had made the harsh elements and unforgiving world sound so enticing. "Maybe you have the heart of a loner." She had never expected to hear those words. She was a proud RiverClan cat, and would be until she died (a death she sometimes imagined as glorious, at the heart of battle, claws and teeth bared in defense of her Clanmates).

She had expected even less for the idea to sound as compelling as it was. Nothing to hold on to, no worries except keeping herself alive, a wealth of unexplored lands right at her paws.. Had she not had half a mind, she may have run away then and there. Then her ears refocused in on the thunder of the gorge, and she thought of the river flowing through their territory, its familiar and comfortable babble.

Just as quickly she thought about Yarrowpaw, her first and best friend. She couldn't imagine a world without him in it; she could imagine less willingly leaving him behind. He would have questions, and she liked to think he'd be hurt by her wordless disappearance.

Tempting as it was.. "I wish I could go with you, it sounds really, really nice.. But I can't leave my Clan." She paused for a moment, thinking, then added with a slight giggle, "At least not tonight!"

Dream about it she would though, she was sure of that. When she made it back to camp, crawled into her nest for whatever brief sleep she could manage, she would see that vast expanse of earthbound stars.

Now was no time for dreaming, though; the quiet had broken, and Tarot had come up with an adventure.

Fearsome things. Cloverpaw tried to make up the image of one, and came up with something that looked like a misshapen cat, tall and toothy and snobbery, disgusting and vicious. Satisfied with this rendition, she settled back down in the grass, paws tucked under her chest, and stared up at her companion with bright, focused eyes. Her previous enthusiasm had returned, showing itself in perked, alert ears, a gently waving tail, and a kit-like expression of eagerness.

As he spoke, she realized what an excellent storyteller he really was. She felt as if she was in his paws, slinking through rot as she found her way closer and closer to the source of the noise. Her heart thrummed as if she was there, too, slowly picking up in pace, reaching an uneven hammering just as he'd started to describe the clicking.

When his voice suddenly rose, Cloverpaw jumped, startled by the story itself as much as she was the volume. Her eyes had gone wide, completely fixed on Tarot as he continued on, painting his tale of naïvety and bravery in some of the most beautiful words she had ever heard.

When it ended, all of the she-cat's fur was on end, ears pinned back, but she was smiling. She hadn't even noticed how tense she had really gotten until now, and she quickly shook her fur out, though she couldn't quite shake the feeling.

Attacking a dog in it's own home.. and winning! It was.. amazing!

Cloverpaw didn't say that, though. Instead, she opted for, "You would make a really good elder, Tarot." Her voice was a lighthearted purr, and her little smile had stretched into a wide, bright grin. Figuring he probably didn't know what elder meant other than 'old,' she added, "They tell kits stories a lot of the time. Especially cool, scary ones like that."

It hadn't just been a story, though. He wrapped it up neatlt with a message for her, and though she had returned to her usual jovial disposition, she had every intention of committing every word to memory. When or if she would ever see a dog, or wander into twolegplace, she didn't know, but she would carry his words close to her for as long as she could remember them.

It may save your life in the future... He was looking out for her, but why? He had no reason to sit and talk with her, to give her life lessons. He could have snatched up his meal and took off, leaving her mouse-less and alone.

And yet, he had stayed, had showed her every act of trust and kindness she believed he could. So in turn she would consider him a friend, suspicions or unease aside.

Letting the silence hang for a while, she eventually broke it, meowing, "Thank you. For– for everything. I'm glad we ran into each other." She shifted her weight, stretching her paws in front of her and curling her tail at her side. When she looked up, it seemed as if Silverpelt sparkled just a bit brighter than usual tonight, and she closed her eyes to enjoy the warm night breeze.

"Will I ever see you again, Tarot? After we both leave here." The words came abruptly, and if she hadn't spoken, it would look like little Cloverpaw had simply dozed off. Her tail twitched, but otherwise she made no move to do anything other than enjoy the stillness and let him answer.

Tarot watched as the apprentice eased, an odd, unreadable smile on his face. Seems he had effectively diffused her doubts, or at the very least, her worry. It was good to know his silver tongue had not yet lost its effectiveness.

The loner observed, head tilting as the smaller cat let out a weary sigh. Her words were spoken with a soft smile, and e softened his own in response, shifting it into a light smirk. "It's quite alright." He responded with that silken voice, "It's only fair that you were wary. Like I've said, I am a mere stranger you came across, one that, naturally, you wouldn't know the intentions nor backstory of." His ears twitched, "It would be rather foolish to accept someone like that so readily before gauging what they're like."

His tail twitched slightly as he glanced to the sky once more. His words about the lives of loners woven with the threads of night, only pausing upon his finishing, and upon the apprentice's response. He glanced down, chuckling as the breeze made his fur sway. Bits of brush and leaves hanging here and there in his pelt from his travels rustled slightly. "Not tonight, hm? I hardly intended to take you immediately, dear Cloverpaw, it would be rather unbecoming of me to do so this soon, when we've just met." He spoke, tone as oddly formal for a loner as it was when they first exchanged words. "Another night though, I could manage, and whenever you wish it I shall take you. This isn't a kitnapping after all." He laughed melodically. He seemed unfazed by her loyalty to her clan, simply accepting her as she was.

As he regaled his tail, he noted her excitement and engrossment in the story, fur bristling and muscles tensing at all the parts he had intended. Seems he hadn't lost his ability in his long periods of solitude, which he was glad to know.

Upon completing it he heard the molly's comment and rose a brow, light amusement and teasing painting his scarred face. "Are you saying I'm old?" He chuckled, raising a paw above his heart, voice melodramatic "Why Cloverpaw- you wound me. Truly I hadn't thought such words would escape thee." A wry grin placed itself on his muzzle, and he lowered his paws. "I have told kits such stories on my travels, adolescents like you as well, and a few older cats. So perhaps I am just an elder in disguise, hm?" He smirked mischievously.

After his words of caution, he heard the molly's words and seemed to still, a thoughtful expression on his face. Slowly he turned his visage to the moon, the silver light of its glow framing his profile. It was growing ever closer to the next patrol. They had some time left, but perhaps not for another full story. After noting that he shifted his attention back to his new companion, the reflection of silverpelt still seen against his swirling violet hues.

"That depends on you. If you wish to meet again, then we shall meet again. Though if you want this to be a more consistent event, we can set something up." He hummed, pondering before an idea came to him. Shifting around, he cupped a smooth stone in his paw. Unsheathing his claws, he engraved a simple 'T' into its swirling grey and silvery surface. He then pushed it towards the molly, gesturing to the stone outcropping over the gorge that he sat upon during sundown. "If you ever wish to meet again, place this stone on that ledge. Every two days I will come by to check, and wait for you that night." He hummed, a slight smile on his face.

" I would check more often, but lingering around the outside of your clan would raise suspicions... and also limit how much I can travel" He hummed. "If you ever lose that stone, simply find another smooth rock and engrave the 'T'."

His tail swished, shifting the blades of grass below. He looked to the apprentice, a more solemn lint in his eyes. "This way, you can choose whether you wish to risk meeting me after this."

With that solved, he looked to the sky again. "We have some time left before moonhigh. Do you wish to hear anything else?" He peered down with a gentle smile.

Once she had come to the decision that the strange tom was to be considered a friend, Cloverpaw changed almost entirely.

Though she had spent the evening riding the wave of emotions somewhere between dread and contentment, the heartbeat she made her own mind up she relaxed fully in a way she hadn't yet. She let all of her muscles relaxing, flopping onto her side and letting out a little huff as she hit the grass.

Her tail flicked idly in Tarot's direction, and when he waxed dramatic about his age she made just as dramatic an attempt at batting at his leg, swiping her paw back just before she would have made contact.

Raising her head a bit, she chuckled, "Hey, you are older. Everyone older than me is, well..." She trailed off, eyes narrowing and flitting back and forth as she tried to think of a less redundant word, but she eventually settled for an awkward shrug and, "Old."

When she asked her next question, her friend went.. quiet. Cloverpaw's ear twitched, listening for a change of breath, something he may mumbled to himself– nothing.

Probably, the silence hadn't stretched on as long as it felt. Probably, she was just projecting her worries he'd say 'no' onto the crickets that she was silently willing to shut up so she could hear better.

... Well, those stupid crickets had distracted her. So focused on cursing the little bugs, she almost didn't tune back in when his voice picked back up. But she quickly shifted to prop herself back up, giving him her full attention back.

When he gave a solution to finding each other regularly, it took everything Cloverpaw could manage to keep herself from jumping out of her pelt in excitement, though she was sure it still showed on her face. She... wasn't exactly sure when she suddenly became so committed to seeing him again, but she would have gone home sore and disappointed if this would be their first and last meeting.

She still had so much left to learn from him.

She wouldn't admit it out loud, not for a second time, but she still had the find the time to see the stars from atop a twoleg nest.

Leaning over to peer at the symbol he had carved, she gave him a curious, almost doubtful look, but the she-cat stretched out a paw and brought the stone closer.  Smoothing her paw pads over the shape, she carefully tucked it underfoot for the time being.

Its mottled color had reminded her of him, so she would do her best not to lose this rock in particular.. ..if her no reason other than to save her from the stress of forgetting what he'd scratched into the rock.

"Of course I'll come back. Hopefully I'll have something to share with you too, then." Her words were a light purr, blinking her eyes closed slowly. What else did she want to know.. What didn't she want to know,  really?

Well–

"Where are you going after this? What if.. what if something happens to you?" Her whiskers twitched, but that dark cloud that had passed her earlier did not seem to return. She only gave her chest fur a brief lick, tucking her paws in and watching Tarot patiently.

Tarot watched as the molly completely relaxed, even flopping on her side, revealing the soft underbelly that would be prime for a fatal wound. His claws itched but he kept them restrained, face amused as she batted at him playfully in response to his melodramatic comments. A light chuckle left him as he listened to her response.

"I suppose that's fair." He mused, eyes twinkling with the silverpelt's reflection. While scratching the stone with the first symbol of a few that had once adorned his collar's tag (A collar which had been torn off in a scuffle with the other cats in that twoleg nest), he glanced over to see that the apprentice had zoned out, perhaps weary as the night stretched on.

He found it strange that clan cats didn't spread out their times of sleep across the day as he did, but he supposed due to their self-set schedule that wasn't too much of an option.

After his words spoken ended, she responded, and a satisfied smile crawled across his muzzle. "I would very much like that." The tom purred, echoing his sentiment.

Her last question made him pause, tail flicking about lightly. "Wherever my heart takes me." He concluded his musings, before adding on as an afterthought; "Though I heard from a few other loners that there was an old, abandoned rogue camp somewhere on the edge of the clans' territories. I may stop there to watch the sunset over the scene with a meal." He smiled, it sounded nice.

He moved on to the next portion of the question, his smile growing softer, as did his eyes. "Don't you worry about that, I've lasted this long alone, I have a good few tricks I've learnt to keep me safe in a dangerous situation beyond my ability." He stood stretching, his noble visage still threaded through his posture and expression. "No need to fear. I would never be late to a meeting, especially with you, it'd be rather rude if I did. Besides, you have training and the such to worry about, no?"

His head tilted to the side, smile more playful. "If by our next meeting you still need assistance with hunting, I could show you a few tricks I know to catch a quick meal."

Tarot glanced at the position of the moon, it was time for him to leave. Face turning to the sky, he took in a deep breath, the fresh smell of the green grass and the water crashing into the gorge filling his senses with a newness he always got when there. After a moment he turned to the apprentice, a rogueish smirk curling up his scars. "Alas, dear Clover. I must leave. Be cautious as you return home, perhaps a swim in the river would do you good so my scent doesn't linger." He paused, coming upon a conundrum.

Quickly he found a solution, he paced around the area, leaving his scent convoluted. Flattening some grass as well, and adding some claw marks to the dirt, he glanced around. He then unsheathed his claws,  nicking his other paw and causing it to bleed. He idly doted it around key areas, only stepping back when he was satisfied.

He then turned to molly and her likely confused expression "There we go, a fight without us actually needing to fight." He smiled in amusement, "Best prepare a backup story if a patrol finds this spot and asks you questions. I trust you can come up with one if it comes to that... which it hopefully won't. Better safe than sorry though."

Scooping up a bit of soil he covered his minuscule wound, forcing it to stop dripping red. He then padded a few paces away, glancing back at Clover. "I bid you adieu. Until we meet again?" His cranium tilted slightly to the side, relaxed smile still lingering on his muzzel.

Cloverpaw hummed softly, watching as Tarot rose to his paws and announced his departure. It felt like no time at all had passed, but when she looked skyward, the moon was right above them.

Suppose it was time, then.

She sulked a bit, though her gloominess was mostly for show – the typical, stubborn But I don't want to go! attitude of young cats, but she slowly joined him, rising to her paws with a little huff.

She pressed her paw to the stone he'd given her again, as if confirming that it was still there.  She stretched down, picking it up as carefully as she could, as if she was afraid it would crack and fall apart between her teeth.

"I know, but stay safe anyway!" There was a bit of a laugh to her already muffled-words, making them all the less distinct. She hadn't really considered the fact he'd been caring for himself up till this point...

Well, he had someone else to care for him now!

Capable as he seemed to be, it wouldn't hurt to have a friend in his corner.

Cloverpaw was about to bow her head, say farewell and head back home, Tarot was turning around in circles, stomping at the ground and even scratching himself. She tilted her head, eyes narrowing in confusion, but he explained himself quick enough.

She smiled, mumbling her thanks around the rock. Offputting as he could be, he was a good friend, and she looked forward to seeing him again.

She waved her tail when he turned back to looking at her, mewing, "Yeah, I'll see you soon!" before turning away, trotting back towards camp.

Now that she was alone, the exhaustion finally hit her. ...as did the excitement. [color=darkseagreen]I'm going to have so much to tell Yarrowpaw tomorrow! She was beaming as she picked up the pace, settling into a gentle canter as she hurried to make it back to camp, to crawl back into her nest for a few winks of sleep.

Check every two days.. She would have to give it time, but she was already impatient, wanting to turn around and race right back to the Gorge.

Its rolling thunder got quieter the further she got, and soon enough she could just hear the distant babble of the river. She wished she could show Tarot her territory, but for now, she would just think about making it home.