Allies or Foes [c]

It was near moonhigh when Duskflight returned. He didn't plan for it to be this late— at least, he was not supposed to arrive back this late. Though fortunately, he brought back two fairly plump mice for the clan. He bit closely on their tails, making sure that the prey he have caught wouldn't slip from his mouth. Once that out of the way, the warrior ducked down, swiftly making his way through the thorn tunnel and into the camp. Everything seemed so quiet and still. Despite knowing that it was a late hour already, he couldn't help but scan the clearing for an awakened cat to chat with.

Ratpaw, Shypaw or Loudnose wouldn't stay up this late. Neither would Emberleap.  The place seemed silent and still. Too silent for his liking. Padding over to a spot near the apprentice's den, he set the two mice down, with one lying just beside him. Just in case if someone did decide to come. Duskflight lie himself down, yawning briefly out of tiredness. It was late, for sure.

Cicadapaw was fairly sure he and sleep were just never going to get along. It didn't come to him when he wanted it to, yet clung tight when he was supposed to be awake. He supposed he could go to a medicine cat for it, but that would require asking for help, and that was... oddly terrifying.

But he was functional, so he could push things off for now. Getting some air and having a chat seemed to help that one time with Loudnose, perhaps he could do that again. He quietly got up from his nest, not wanting to wake the others before emerging from the mouth of the den. The camp was still, the night air chilled by the coming leafbare. However, there was one in camp not huddled in their nest.

"A bit late to be waiting for someone, don't you think?" He mused as he made his way over to the other tom, gesturing lightly to the mouse laid resting next to them. "Or were you planning on getting away with two meals under the cover of darkness?" His voice lowered into a teasing tone, his lips pulling into a goading grin. He was always up for a little ribbing banter, regardless of if his opponent took it well.

"A bit late to wait for someone, don't you think?"  Duskflight's eyes lit up in natrual response, turning over to the cat that have just spoken up.. Yet that wasn't anyone he knew. Not that he remembered yet, at least. Nonetheless, his eyes kept its curious glow, blinking as the tom gestured to the mouse set beside him. The other tom's tone then quickly turned mischevious, and somehow, the warrior felt as if he'd recognize this tone from before. It was so familiar— so close, then— it hit him. It was that tom from last time, when he first met Shypaw. His eyes instantly sharpened in caution, even if it was so subtly to even be noticed at all.

"No, no. I wouldn't dare to do such a thing." He spoke up in defense, somewhat awkwardly laughing as his voice rang. "I guess— well, I was waiting for someone. Not like I actually expected for a cat to appear, but.. Here you are." It wasn't like anyone would just.. suddenly, somehow appear to talk with him— but he just had a feeling of so, and he seemed to be correct this time. "You might as well finish the meal if you'd like to. I don't plan to save both for myself." He insisted, giving the prey beside himself a glance, then looked back to the tom. "I'm Duskflight. And you?"

That was a bit strange, setting aside a meal for a hypothetical cat. Did he think he could manifest a cat out of thin air?... But then again, his tactics did succeed. Here Cicadapaw was, drawn out apparently from the sheer will this cat had to talk to another. He couldn't be that crazy if it worked.

"I wouldn't turn down a meal." He nodded, taking a place beside the warrior and dragging the mouse closer to himself with a paw. "Name's Cicadapaw, nice to meet you." The tom felt a bit familiar, but so did the rest of the clan that he didn't talk to. He would see them inside of camp, on patrols, catch tidbits of conversation, surely he wasn't expected to remember everyone perfectly. If it were something important, he would remember soon enough.

"It's good that prey is running well this close to leaf-bare. All the frogs and scaley things are starting to hide, but mice are still easy enough to catch." He spoke, trying to make conversation before taking a bite out of his offered prey. "It's like we become Thunderclan cats when the weather's cold." That was more of his parent's words than his own as he had yet to live through a cold season, but they were ingrained in him enough that they might as well be his own thoughts.

"That's quite odd, isn't it? I'm glad that our clan's still thriving with prey, though! It'll be worrisome if that wasn't the case." He chuckled, "Even if we seem like thundercats near leaf-bare, it's better than nothing to fill our bellies at all." Duskflight snickered. Perhaps if he reconsidered it, Cicadapaw might've not been that bad after all. Maybe seemingly quite.. Mischevious of such, but he supposed they could still get along. To him that was, at least.

"Right, what are you doing out here so late?" The tom inquired, tilting his head over to the left. "Or maybe.. Not able to sleep?" That seemed reasonable enough. The cold of leaf-bare seemed to approach sooner and sooner, causing remarkable trouble to some sleeping cats. Like himself, for an example. He wished that the other cat wouldn't have to experience the same, though it seemed like he did, very much of so.

Cicadapaw gave a small shrug. Clan integrity was ingrained in his bones. Giving up hunting frogs and reptiles felt like giving up a bit of Shadowclan. They would be back in greenleaf, but that was a season and a half away! He didn't want to have to be like a Thunderclan cat for that long, he was Shadowclan through and through. But Duskflight was right. He couldn't be a Shadowclan cat if he starved. "I'll be coming back with a whole pond-full of frogs when the leaves come back through. No one will mistake our prey pile for Thunderclan's by time I'm done with it."

The tom's question made Cicadapaw pause. "I guess I could ask the same for you, hm?" He hummed, his tail flicking playfully. He originally planned to just sneak around the question, but he supposed some type of answer was due. This cat seemed alright, his need to perform not feeling as essential as it usually did. "But... yeah... me and sleep aren't friends at the moment." His thick coat kept most of the cold out, but that wasn't really a pressing issue.

His mind never quieted when he was given a moment of peace and the apprentice den was started to feel crowded with Shypaw and the other rogue in their midst. Shypaw was too pathetic to be a real threat but he didn't know about the red one. He couldn't guess how the other apprentices could sleep soundly with them in there. Sometimes it felt like only he and Burningwing remembered the rogues that occupied their territory. They were dangerous, and now they were in their camp.

"Well, if that isn't exciting to hear!" Duskflight laughed, beaming at the younger tom. Even if that was meant to be sarcastic— or not, the warrior found himself getting along with Cicadapaw. Though as the apprentice spoke up again, the tom frowned, letting out a sigh. "That's unfortunate. Leaf-bare's not going easy for anyone too, is it?" He'd inquire, despite assuming that the other cat would just know the answer to that question as well.

He took a bite out of the mouse in front of his paws, and waited for a moment before speaking up again."How's training been going on for you? Everything still playing out fine?" Duskflight wished for the tom to perhaps not have to go through so much trouble as he did in apprenticeship, willingly or not. Predators constantly roamed around the territory, and for that he was left with more scars than he'd originally like to have. Though perhaps in the future, he'd have more during battles, too. It wasn't that he didn't take pride out of them; but he wouldn't enjoy it if he could have less. The bite scars from snakes surely didn't make it better. Their fangs were sharp, and so were the owl's talons from his first battle.

Cicadapaw gave a brief nod. Yes. Leafbare. Not rogues or running minds or anything else, just the cold. "Yeah, I'm sure every cat is kneading the ground in anticipation for green-leaf. No one likes it 'cept kits who wanna play in the snow." He chuckled softly before taking the moment of quiet to eat another mouthful of mouse. He'd always prefer reptile, but he could appreciate this flavor.

The patchwork tom, who had been momentarily subdued, perked up at the question of training. "Yes, me and Burningwing have been doing fine. I'm doing especially well in my battle training and even got into a few real skirmishes!" His tail flicked with pride as he raised a paw to gesture to his shoulder and the few scratches that lay there. "This one here was from an owl. It got my ear too, but Burningwing and I took it out before it could even take back into the air!" He grinned wildly as he relived it in his mind. His mentor had been so smart to go for the wings first, he never would have thought of it. "And these two here were from a Skyclan apprentice. He tore into me pretty good, but I fought him off with just a few blows to the face." He hadn't hit anything vital there, but he supposed the pain was too much of a shock to handle. How childish.

He wouldn't be surprised if he was the only cat who actively wished for more scars. It made a cat look formidable and each one told a story of each battle you entered and escaped with your life. They were trophies to him... well... until they became too numerous that is. There had to be a nice balance.