Fictors [closed]

The day was grey. Dreary. It was as if the falling rain had rendered the world devoid of any color. Even then, when the world was dull and unhurried, Smallbean found comfort. With each passing day since his return he realized how much he appreciated his home and the cats around him. It was a subconscious decision, but he would go out on patrols sometimes just to admire his surroundings.

As appreciative as he was, his sights yearned for some color. Even in the harshest of leaf-bare, the flower field always had something pretty to look at, even if it would take effort to find. It was in the flower field where he currently stood, fur fluffed up against the modest rain. The few remaining slick leaves before him glared with the reflection of the grey sky, bright as it was gloomy. Among them, sparse glimpses of color, a start contrast to the environment around him.

Among the faint patter of rainfall on leaves, the deputy's ears heeded unnatural movement. Nearly as soon as he'd heard the pawsteps, a figure came into view. It sparked regret and displeasure upon recognition. 'Silverwing?' Unnerved, he stood, ears raised and eyes narrowed. As uncomfortable at her sight as he was, he couldn't bring himself to approach her. He couldn't even bring himself to call out. Position unfaltering, he watched her with wide eyes.

A bad idea to be sure, but bad ideas were her specialty. If the rain didn't make her sick, then something else might get her, but this was one of very few chances to walk her old home's territory once more. If she was to be exiled from her home then the least they could offer was one more look around at the beautiful colors that the flower field offered. She wanted to visit on a bright and sunny day when the colors truly popped, but that was way too risky. She could be caught by a patrol, or her scent would linger and give away the she-cat's visit. The rain offered her a chance to avoid both of those things. It would wash away her scent, and what kind of cat would want to be out in this rain? Aside from her, of course.

By the time Silverwing had made her way to the field her pelt was absolutely drenched, and the feather that she had affixed to her pelt hadn't fared much better either. She'd definitely be paying for this at some point, but for now she'd enjoy the simple yet beautiful sight of- what was that? Something caught the she-cat's eye, too tall to be a flower but too short to be... anything else? Silverwing stared the small smudge of color for a while before realizing what it was. A cat. A small cat, really small. Small...bean! Why was he out here? Why was he, of all the cats in Windclan, visiting the flowers fields. IN THE RAIN? Despite her plan to avoid detection, Silverwing had already been caught. If the tom hadn't been staring right at her, Silverwing might have bolted at the sight of him, but come on! He was just staring at her! She had no clue what to do, caught in her trespassing by the deputy, all Silverwing could do was stare right back at him. Would he try to run her off?

The faint patter of rain was the only sound that fell between the two. No words, no scuffle, no sudden movements. Smallbean grew frustrated. He wanted her to run, he wanted a reason other than her very presence to approach her. Some part of him didn't want to give her that. But she didn't make a move. They stood, staring at each other from opposite sides of a rainy clearing. It seemed he'd need to make the first move.

Swiftly, silently, he traversed the field, meeting the silver tabby with an unwelcome tone. "What are you doing here!?" He hissed through gritted teeth. "You're not meant to be here! If I see you I'm supposed to chase you out." Paranoia taking hold, he looked behind him with urgency. Somewhere nearby was the cat he'd been on patrol with. As much as he didn't want to be caught talking to Silverwing kindly, he couldn't bring himself to lay a claw on her. Although he was no longer Windclan, she was. It felt wrong to attack a former clanmate.

Gaze returning to Silverwing, his eyes unnarrowed, slightly. "You need to leave. And not come back."

The answer to that was apparently yes. Silverwing stood stock still as the tom approached her, hoping that some miracle might shield her from his view. It was a stupid idea, but it felt like she was full of those at this point. Despite his charge, Silverwing hadn't been expecting this level of unfriendliness from Smallbean. "Hey, Smallbean." She mewed. "Are you gonna do it, then? It wouldn't be the first time." There was a bit of a bite to her words, even through the disinterested guise she tried to present. This was the tom that had denied her friendship, the same one that yelled at her, the same one that didn't defend her when her first punishment from Shrikestar ended in exile. She wanted to hate him, wanted to tear into him, but that fire just wasn't there. Maybe it had something to do with how drenched and sad he looked. If this were any other cat, Silverwing would have offered whatever warmth she had, but even if she grew the want to she knew what Smallbean's answer would be. He'd rather suffer in the rain.

As his gaze fell back on her, Silverwing looked away. In every way she felt like a petulant kit, and that was something that carried over to her speech. "And what if I don't? What're you gonna do, exile me again? Attack me?" If Smallbean even tried to attack her she would bolt. Not far away, since the tom's stubby legs would inhibit his ability to chase her, but she would keep out of his range if need be. "I won't be here for long. You can watch me if you want, but I think you'll find that to be a boring experience." Silverwing sat herself down. Her head turned slightly, putting the tom in her field of vision. "Aren't you supposed to be in camp, relaxing in a tunnel or something? Y'know, not in the rain?"

Smallbean's fur bristled at her off-handed comment. Still, after she'd spent moons on punishment, she still didn't realize the root of her problems and was still unable to recognize that she was at fault. She passed blame to Windclan leadership, it seemed. "I never did such a thing. It was your mistake." He muttered, sharpness evident in his tone. He flexed his sheathed paws. "And no, I'm better than that. I'm able to keep my claws sheathed." He made a jab toward her impulses, almost eager for her to prove his point. Exile was the best option.

Whipping his head around again, he stared for a moment before facing her snide remarks. "It's not your business to tell me what I should be doing. You're no clanmate of mine. You're an exile on unfriendly territory." He dared to move closer to the tabby, expression growing more and more cross. "What are you even doing here? Out in the rain, on territory that no longer welcomes you. Sulking?" The deputy returned her vile tone. "There's another cat around. I'm on a patrol. They may not be so kind if they find you."