what is this feeling, so sudden and new? [C]

Rowansong

His first patrols as a warrior didn’t come with the glamour and bursting adrenaline Rowansong had once expected, but he’d decided he was alright with that. There was still plenty of time for lighter moments, but it had not even been a week since Perchstar’s sudden and violent disappearance from the Clan. The upset was often palpable in camp, and even for those not tasked directly with searching for her, kittish hope occupied much of the attention. Perhaps for one group she would suddenly leap into view across the distant horizon, whole and well.

And he understood. He couldn’t say he did not feel the same dreariness often, or that most of his patrols were occupied with scanning distant sight-lines for faint traces of her. However, he was trying to feel better, less fretful, about the idea of being a warrior, and that meant seeing the territory through new eyes. It was flighty, yes, but perhaps he was little more than that. There were times he had to force it, but with enough squinting, he could see the sparkle in anything.

This stretch of the river, with trees high enough to scrape the sky rising into sudden existence on the opposite side, was a little harder to see the fresh beauty in. The scenery itself was delightful, he couldn’t deny that, especially not when he thought of Poppyshine’s promise that new-leaf would soon come to paint the trees in green life once more. Even ignoring the opposite territory, every whisker-length of the river was a sight to treasure. His shoulders were tense as he grew nearer despite the sights. The last time he had come to this border, it had been with Perchstar at his side; and the only SkyClan cat he'd known by name had left him sore about the border, to say the least.

He could almost hear StarClan laughing when the soft shift of branches rattling and small twigs breaking made his ears flick to attention. He would laugh himself, if it was his once-friend on the other side of the river, though he figured it would be an aggravated and pitying sound. Still… Rowansong had never possessed an interest in preservation. Hurrying along was an option, but he didn’t entertain it for longer than a second. Rowansong wound closer to the water’s edge, current bubbling against his pads as he drew nearer, green eyes flicking between the hard enough to the tangled crown of branches, searching for any passing figure.

Rainfrost could not stop marveling at his ability to leave the camp on his own. It was one he had begun to treasure rapidly. Though most of his hours were taken up by official patrols and warrior duties, Rainfrost constantly kept himself busy with tasks whether given to him or asked for, there were still plenty of times where he found himself lacking anything to do. Most of the time, he filled those times with company, seeking out Birdstar, Crookedlight, or any of his other friends.

But there were times where even the company of the cats he treasured most felt like too much. There were times where the constant murmur of cats talking made his skin prickle and his fur stood on end, and he felt like if anyone talked to him he’d bite them. He didn't like that feeling. He got that a lot at Gatherings, but there were times where even his own camp became too much. It used to be that he had to find Birdstar or Wolfblossom, cats he knew would walk in silence with him, and beg them to take him out, something he always felt guilty about since he knew they were busy, or curl up in his nest in the apprentice’s den until he was called away or the feeling faded.

But now? Now, Rainfrost had the freedom to whisper a quick word to a senior warrior and then bound out of camp. Now he could leap into the trees surrounding his home and climb and leap from branch to branch until the prickly feeling began to fade, until the rustle of leaves and soft bird cries soothed his agitation. He’s been out for a little while now, enjoying not needing to speak a single word, silently prowling across the ground or through the branches. Always wanting to make himself useful, he preoccupied himself with hunting. With new-leaf on the horizion, it didn’t take long before Rainfrost had buried quite a bit of prey to pick up on his way back to camp.

Rainfrost’s initial fear of heights and trees had faded over the course of his apprenticeship, and he prowled through the branches like any good Skyclan cat would. He liked being up high, he found. It made him feel… free. Not that he wasn’t already, but it was a good feeling, a heady feeling. Rainfrost’s strange irritation of the morning had all but faded by the time he looked out of the branches and realized he was up against the Riverclan border.

He hadn’t spent much time on the river before, though he knew Birdstar frequented it. He had no idea what his mother found so fascinating in the river. To him, it only seemed dangerous. Still, he felt a tug of curiosity in his chest. He really didn’t give the other clans much mind, something that he ought to change now that he was a warrior. With an elegant leap down to the forest floor, Rainfrost left the safety of his branches and approached the bank, pushing his way through the thick foliage. He absently rubbed his cheek on one of the scent markers, but his eyes remained on the churning, bright blue water. He wondered if it was cold. It had to be, right? The air was still so chilly.

Before he could give into the odd, silly temptation to stick his paw in the water and test it, his eyes flickered up at the sight of something moving on the other end of the bank. Vivid russet red fur caught his gaze, and as his eyes shifted he caught the gaze of deep green ones. The gaze reminded him for a brief, inane moment, of Crookedlight.

Rainfrost froze for a moment, caught in the shock of actually encountering another cat on his solitary walk. Then he remembered himself, shook out his fur, and dipped his head in greeting to the russet tom on the other side of the bank. “Good afternoon,” He said simply, planning on leaving the greeting there and continuing his previous walk. It felt rude to stare and then not say anything, after all.

Rowansong

The actual appearance of another cat almost spooked Rowansong enough to trip forward into the river. He kept the surprise from showing as anything more than a jolt, but he must’ve been turned to scan the more distant treeline when the SkyClanner came to the border. At least he was grateful he caught the sight of fur in his periphery before the tom spoke, else he might have actually fallen into the water.

There was a brief moment of contemplation, whether or not this passing encounter was worth entertaining... but he supposed he had no reason to begrudge this cat, whoever he was. The flat voice might have warded another cat away from further conversation, but Rowansong’s tail was already waving high in greeting. Looking at the warrior properly (was he a warrior? He barely looked an apprentice!), he wondered if he’d seen him before. There was something passingly familiar about him, but the wonder was dismissed without much thought.

“Hail!” He called spiritedly. “Well met, SkyClanner. It is a good day for visiting the river, no?” Rowansong moved the few steps closer to the water as he spoke, sliding into it until he was wading chest deep. It tugged through his heavy fur, but his paws were firm against the churning ground. He offered his reflection a brief look before quickly looking back towards his new companion. With a broad smile, he mewed, “The days get warmer and warmer, yet the river stays cool. How fascinating. Relieving, as well. I pity that other Clans cannot experience that soothing rush on a burning green-leaf day. Oh,” Rowansong sighed, soft and wistful, giving his head a slow shake.

“But I am rambling. I only doubt the reason for your presence being that I do not know your name. You wouldn’t care to share, would you?”

Rainfrost blinked owlishly at this… strange Riverclan cat. He started a little in surprise when the newcomer waded into the water like it was nothing, though perhaps he really shouldn’t be shocked by a Riverclan cat doing that. He tried for a moment to think if he’d seen this cat in the throng of Riverclan cats he saw at Gatherings, but… well, Rainfrost really didn’t pay much attention at gatherings beyond what Juniperpaw and Crookedlight were up to. Still, he was sure if he had run into such a tom as the one in front of him, he’d remember. There was something striking about him; in the way he spoke, the sharp green eyes, the scar across his nose... the vivid red of his fur. It made Rainfrost shift a little with a discomfort he couldn’t identify.

He tried to imagine how the cold water could be a relief. He hadn’t experienced greenleaf’s heat yet, but it was still so bitingly cold. Much more pleasant than it had been when snow coated the ground and Rainfrost found himself constantly shivering, it’s true, but still, far too cold to go wading into something that was supposedly even colder. He eyed the wet fur now sticking to the Riverclanner’s frame, and shuddered at the thought. He hated getting wet.

“Is it not cold to you?” Rainfrost found himself asking, then shook himself a little for the impulsive question. His voice is soft and even, devoid of much inflection but steady. “Er… sorry. My name is Rainfrost.” He gave a respectful little dip of his head. “Warrior of Skyclan.” The addition was unnecessary, his status was clear and obvious by him being where he was, but saying the words made a little thrill go through him anyway, so he indulged the impulse.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Rainfrost said. His expression, of course, didn’t change an inch from his usual default stare, but the words were honest. Since the other tom seemed eager to engage in conversation, Rainfrost moved a few steps closer to the bank and sat with his tail curling over his paws, back straight and eyes focused. “May I ask your name as well?”

Rowansong

Rowansong remained in the water as the SkyClanner (blessedly receptive to his personal enthusiasm) spoke. A warm, short laugh rose through him at the starting question, though he let the introductions continue. Rowansong nodded along, steadily wading further into the water until he had to flex his claws to grip the riverbed. The short tom’s name was Rainfrost… Rainfrost. What sounded so familiar about that name? What was it about this cat, these shadows of recognition? His nose wrinkled, whole countenance darkening for a moment with the depth of his thought. In an instant, it passed, winsome grin returned.

“I suppose I ought to respond from the start.” Rowansong mewed lightly. His claws unhooked, and there was a second when the current grabbed him and he felt a surge of fear that it would sweep him away, but the river was gentle today. Rowansong paddled easily against its strength, cutting a loose circle through the water. “First, I did not say the river was not cold. I only said relieving in green-leaf– which is true. It is plenty cold now, though, and I am sure I will shiver when I return to the bank.” The chill that soaked under his fur had numbed largely after a few minutes of being submerged. The return to camp, though, he was dreading.

“And a pleasure to meet you as well Rainfrost, warrior of SkyClan. You seem the companionable sort.” Rowansong’s eyes flicked past the rival warrior, searching the depths hidden by SkyClan’s stony forest. Deciding with finality there were no approaching patrols, he began to paddle with a little more determination and, in only a few moments, he was wading up to SkyClan’s edge of the river. Careful to remain in the deeper stretch of the bank, Rowansong tipped his head up toward Rainfrost, eyes flashing with the light of an idea and smile sharp. “Finally, you may, and I shall answer with Rowansong, warrior of RiverClan. I am sure you will not forget the day you meet me– especially should you be bold enough to attempt swimming.”

Rainfrost’s eyes remained on Rowansong the entire time he spoke, watching his movements as he drew closer. He tensed slightly as Rowansong edged closer to the official border, but seeing as Rowansong did not actually cross the line from neutral territory into Skyclan territory, and the River is very much so Riverclan’s, Rainfrost refrained from commenting on his closeness. It allowed him to take a closer look at him anyway, taking in the green of his eyes and the russet red of his fur, the scar on his chest. Maybe it was just the way he spoke, but something about him, or at least the sensations he caused to tug at Rainfrost's chest, continued to remind him of Crookedlight. He wasn't sure how to feel about that.

His ear twitched as Rowansong spoke of how Rainfrost was unlikely to forget him, which, privately he could agree with. Rowansong was a little…striking, and was his first real connection with a cat outside Skyclan, so he was sure to be memorable. Still, it made his nose twitch with something that wavered between amusement and mild irritation. And then Rowansong suggested that Rainfrost touched the dreaded water, and Rainfrost barked a short, harsh laugh.

“Me?” He eyed the water. “I’m cold enough already, thanks.” Rainfrost eyes returned to Rowansong’s face. “I’ll leave the water to you as you’d leave the trees to me. Besides, I’m sure any attempt I’d make at swimming would be…Mm. Embarrassing.” Another twitch of his ear. He continued watching Rowansong with sharp eyes, curiosity reflected in them. "Has swimming always come so naturally to you?"

Rowansong

Whatever attempt Rainfrost had been making at a deterrent, it failed spectacularly. The second he laughed, however short the sound, Rowansong’s grin turned wide and wicked. There was curiosity in his mismatched eyes, too, a sheen he imagined was reflected in his own. This was the most relaxed he had felt in conversation in a little while; speaking to someone with no expectations of him, responsive to his eccentric nature. The reminder that thought dredged up was nipped before it could fully form. He didn’t want to ruin the good mood he’d found.

“It has, yes,” Rowansong purred, puffing out his chest. “Most things come naturally to me, of course, but swimming? Oh-hoh, yes. I could be a fish, were it not for the snout, fur, tail, paws…” His words bubbled away into another bright laugh, well amused with himself. “Granted, the longer coat does wear one down… but it does not bother me. I could never curse a pelt so fine, and if you are to be a judge, I would say my skill does not suffer for it.” There was another flash through his green eyes, some deeper mischief. His smile hadn’t faltered.

Sweeping a bit closer, he met Rainfrost’s eyes and went on, “I assure you, the cold is not so bad once you have a few moments to get used to it. You will be chilly venturing home, I’m sure, but it will not be unbearable– stars, especially not on a day so nice as this one! And besides,” the further he was crawling up the bank, the closer Rowansong got to meeting eye level with Rainfrost, treacherously close to SkyClan’s land. All hesitancy seemed to be lost. With an innocent tilt of his head and something heady on his features, Rowansong purred, “Who says I want to leave the trees to you? You cannot deny, it would make a fair trade.”

The grin that appeared on Rowansong’s face shortly following Rainfrost’s laugh made his heart skip a beat. He couldn’t tell what for, and so he settled on the feeling present in his chest being apprehension. That grin, sharp and inlaid with mischievousness, was positively evil. Rainfrost, after a moment of dumb staring, decided that Rowansong’s purr (which caused the strangest sensation of Rainfrost’s lips twitching as if to smile in return) and Rowansong’s musical laugh (which caused a tingling sensation in Rainfrost’s paws) were also completely and utterly evil.

Rainfrost watched Rowansong move closer and narrowed his eyes briefly in warning, his shoulders bunching into tension. But he did not bark at Rowansong to stay back. Maybe he should, but Rowansong had not crossed the border…yet. Rainsong was sure he could defend their territory from just one warrior, if it came down to it. He did kind of want to tackle Rowansong, but he wasn’t so sure that was out of territoriality. Besides, he was a little too taken off guard by the green suddenly swimming in his vision. Rainfrost swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry.

“If you’re suggesting I teach you how to climb trees, you’ll be sorely disappointed.” Rainfrost said dryly, lifting his chin in an attempt to regain some of his dignity as he looked up at Rowansong. Far from the first time, though perhaps especially viciously right now, Rainfrost cursed his size. It’s hard to feel intimidating when you have to tilt your head back to meet someone’s gaze square on.

Despite the dismissive words, Rainfrost rose from his sitting position. Call it curiosity, competitiveness, or simply a brief bout of insanity brought on by the cat in front of him, Rainfrost found himself padding closer to the river. He paused directly at the bank, closer to Rowansong now, and he reached a paw down and placed it in the water. He wrinkled his nose at the sensation of water soaking his paw. He pulled his paw back, shook it out, and looked at Rowansong again. “If I sink like a rock, I am blaming you.”

…Rainfrost is settling for the insanity defense.

Another step forward, and Rainfrost plunges into the river in full. He of course does not sink because he’s standing directly in the shallows next to Rowansong, but the water immediately soaks his belly fur and chest, and the chill sends a visible, full body shudder through Rainfrost. The fur not plastered to his skin stood straight up as Rainfrost let out an involuntary curse of, ”Oh, Fox-dung, that is COLD.”

Rowansong

Rowansong’s ear flicked at what sounded like dismissal, turning his own chin up to regard Rainfrost. “That is a shame,” he managed to start before Rainfrost was getting to his paws. Curiously, Rowansong tilted his head to the side. Devilish expectancy burned in his eyes watching the SkyClanner pad closer to the water’s edge. His tail whipped wildly behind him, too much energy suddenly running through him to keep himself still. He gets to meet Rainfrost’s gaze for an eternal moment while the shorter tom speaks.

And maybe Rainfrost had had a point. The grin that stretches across his face now is, maybe, a bit evil.

Rainfrost lurched into the shallows beside him, small splashes soaking what little dry fur was left on Rowansong. He couldn’t manage a laugh at first. He was too dumbfounded: by the fact Rainfrost had actually done it; by the realization he didn’t really know how to teach someone to swim; by the way his ears warmed a little watching him sink into the shallows. It was hard to make any sort of noise.

The swearing broke him, though. As soon as Rainfrost yelped, Rowansong was tipping his head back, peals of laughter rolling from his stomach mixed in with enthused purrs. “Rainfrost! You are a daring cat. I commend you.” Rowansong cheered, trodding through the water that tugged at his legs. “And blessed am I that you are not drowning. I do not know how I would explain such a situation to your leader.” Another burst of laughter came. Rowansong made no attempt to fight it. He continued circling around Rainfrost, creating small waves as he waded about.

Eventually, he made it around to stand in front of Rainfrost again. The same burning look remained in his eyes. “The cold will dissipate, as I have told you. It will only be moments before you grow used to it.” Rowansong’s tail arced above the water, a flicked shower of water droplets glittering in the sunlight that caught them. Now, he had no idea what to do with this cat. Hopefully Rainfrost kept up the good work and didn’t sink.

Rowansong kind of wanted to push him under himself. Just for fun. “Now, if you would like to attempt swimming rather than balking?” He squared his shoulders, jerking his head back slightly in attempt to beckon Rainfrost on.

Rainfrost shivered in the water, and glared. Rowansong’s laughter made his ears flick backwards briefly. He wasn’t truly that worked up or angry, though you wouldn’t know that looking at his stormy face. He was definitely irritated, but it was hard to be angry in the face of that laugh. Evil as it may be. But it was the principle of the thing. He replied to the comment that he was daring with an irritated, wrinkled nose. The comment sounded sarcastic.

He tilted his head briefly to the side as he tried to imagine Birdstar’s reaction to this. He thinks he does not quite want to know what his mother would think of him leaping into the river for no good reason, treading dangerously close to the Riverclan border with a Riverclan tom. He has the distinct sensation that if he thinks about this too long, the revelation that he is, if not crossing, definitely pushing some lines on the warrior code would send him into a fit. He amused himself instead by imagining Rowansong's reaction to finding out his leader was also his mother.

He watched Rowansong’s tail, and grumbled wordlessly at his statements about the cold. He had serious doubts that he could get used to this awful feeling, but he decided not to comment on it. He knew he was far more sensitive to the cold than most cats. He waited then until Rowansong was done speaking, and lifted a paw and then scooped up water and splashed it right at Rowansong. It’s hard to tell if the action is playful or not, but the faint twinkle in yellow and blue eyes gave him away.“That is for laughing at me.”

And then Rainfrost heaved a sigh, eying the deeper water doubtfully. “But I am already in the water.” He replied. “I might as well.” He inched forward, shivering as the water sank further into his heavy fur. As he sank deeper into the water, the wet sand beneath his paws gave way for a moment, and he scrambled with an embarrassing squeak as he felt his weight carried only by the buoyancy of the water, rather than his own four paws. He paddled uselessly until he found his footing again, breathing hard as he stared forward for a moment, fur attempting to poof out despite being weighed down.

“I foresee an issue with this.” He added after a moment of standing so stockstill his muscles ached from the effort. “...How does one swim?”

Rowansong

Rainfrost’s drawn expression looked considerably darker when he was half-submerged, somewhere between wanting to march out of the water and away from their border or wanting to shove Rowansong’s head underwater first and see how long he’d hold his breath. Rainfrost stayed though, scowl and all, silently entertaining the haughty chatter. Rowansong’s beaming smile was almost manic for the second of quiet after he finished speaking.

Rainfrost lifted a paw, moving fluidly against the current. Rowansong had just enough time to look down, head tilting with interest– and just when he understood the movement, a small wave soaked him from the bridge of his muzzle through what little fur was still dry on his chest.

Rowansong screwed his eyes shut, gasping at the initial shock before starting to sputter, wading back a few paces. A fierce shake of his head cleared most of the water away, and several quick blinks got the stray droplets out of his eyes. Huffing, Rowansong jerked his head to refocus on the shorter tom, tail flicking across the top of the water. His hackles bristled slightly, brow creasing with affront, but his grin remained. Catching a barely-there glitter in Rainfrost’s eyes made the fur around his neck fluff up more.

“That is not fair! Do you punish everyone who finds amusement in simple things?” Rowansong’s ears slicked back and he tipped his nose down, eyes wide and shining like they might shed a tear. As kicked as he went through the effort of looking, it really wasn’t worth the trouble. It faltered almost immediately when Rainfrost attempted to drift farther out. Quiet snickers slipped past through the wheedling mask, especially at the surprised squeaking.

Even though he was, politely, mocking the warrior, Rowansong kept his eyes on him, watching the current start to carry away his lighter frame. His shoulders tensed, ready to move out of the shallows if it seemed necessary, but Rainfrost gracelessly padded his way back to semisolid ground before that point. Rowansong looked down at him quietly, whiskers twitching. A good question, and one he couldn’t answer. “I suppose it is an innate talent,” he mused as he turned away to watch the rippling current. For a good while, he would just stand beside Rainfrost, watching the river course by.

When Rowansong did move again, it was to whip his tail once through the water. A dense splash rose from the disturbance to soak Rainfrost’s side, flattening what fur managed to stand on end.

“That is for getting my face wet,” he hummed pleasantly before breaking out in a rolling cackle. Then, he stopped off, letting the sand shelf drop away under his paws. The current tugged around him, but his legs cycled rhythmically to keep him in place. Rowansong looked over his shoulder at Rainfrost, bobbing steadily where he floated. “Surely you have strong legs, for all the time SkyClan spends within the canopy. That is where most of the work comes. It is… closest to running. Keep your legs moving, and you will not sink. I would not allow it, for what it is worth.”

Rowansong continued to tread water for a few moments before paddling further away, moving as slow as he could through the water, keeping his eyes on Rainfrost as he went. “If you are not afraid, then try again! You cannot succeed without practice. If this is any incentive,” Rowansong winked, held Rainfrost’s eyes, then turned around briskly. “I say it is similar to running, you are in need of training… So, chase me.” And on he swam, though his ears did rotate backwards to listen, and he kept his pace slow until he knew Rainfrost’s reaction.

Rainfrost, for a split second, actually grinned at the stupid, spluttering look Rowansong had on his face in reaction to getting splashed. That was satisfying and sort of made jumping into the cold water entirely worth it. His grin was gone by the time Rowansong returned his attention back to him, but the twinkle in his eyes remained, and there was a challenge there too.

Rainfrost’s ear twitches in acknowledgement of Rowansong’s protests, but he didn’t otherwise react to them. Rowan’s pathetic “kicked kit” face wasn’t fooling Rainsong, no siree.

After Rainfrost’s failed attempts at swimming, he turned his head to level another glare at Rowansong, wrinkling his nose irritably at him as Rowansong laughed at him. He was once again half tempted to splash him. He stood beside Rowansong, recovering his wits. After a moment when Rowansong delivered his oh-so-helpful comment, Rainfrost managed to deliver the comment of, “That does not help me.”

And then he was splashed.

Water splashed into his face, which had previously been nice and dry, and he squawked with discomfort as it sank into the fur. He shook his head quickly, reaching up a paw instinctively, which, since his paws were very wet, only served to make the problem worse. His face wrinkled up in irritation, and he fully stuck his tongue out at Rowansong’s retreating back.

He scoffed at Rowansong’s words. He had no reason to believe Rowansong would actually help if he began to drown. Then again… he had no reason to believe Rowansong wouldn’t. Rainfrost contemplated this as he watched Rowansong’s strong, sure movements through the water, eyes darting up to meet deep green when Rowansong looked at him again.

The challenge was clearly present in Rowansong’s words, and it lit a fire underneath Rainfrost. He was… starting to realize he may be a little more competitive then he gave himself credit for. Something about the eye contact Rowansong held also made his cheeks feel hot and his fur feel on edge, and it was an entirely uncomfortable feeling that he decided would be best chased away.

“I can run.” He grumbled, mostly to himself. He would not be outproven by this…flamboyant Riverclan tom. He pushes himself off the sandy bank, once again tensing as the rush of the river begins to carry his weight for him, rather than his own strength. He sucked in another breath, churning his limbs in an approximation of running until he gained something resembling a rhythm.

He looked up again as he began to gain confidence, and a smile appeared briefly on his face. “Catch you, I will.” He promised, moving his paws faster and pivoting to move towards Rowansong. As soon as he was close enough… he lifted his tail out of the water and splashed Rowansong again. It was a considerably weaker splash, but still.