unwind me [open]

[temp]

When one was amongst friends it was natural to relax which would lead someone to label Tawnystorm's reaction as unnatural. Then again she never did relax. She sat at the edge of camp similar to the way a bird would perch on a tree branch. Everyone else seemed happy, content at the least... except for her. She was in a chronic bad mood, a scowl spread on her face. How she wished to be more like her clan mates, social.

In an attempt to ignore her jealousy Tawnystorm began to groom herself. It wasn't really like she needed it, her fur shined practically 24/7. It seemed making sure she looked her best was the only way she felt her best. What about me is so... unapproachable? she asked herself as she often did, waiting for the answer that never came. As her tongue rasped over her pelt she pondered the question some more. She couldn't be tht bad, could she? Sure she was a little rough around the edges but... well, who wasn't?

[Rolo]

Frostpaw wandered into camp, attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible. She was only semi-successful. Stealth was something she usually only practiced when attempting at a practical joke, and usually she had trees or high grass to conceal her. Entering a clearing with low-cut grass when council members were deliberately observing every movement took a rather different skillset. It didn't help that Rowanheart probably wanted to give her another sinwound for running away from him, so cats were likely looking out for her.

Frostpaw deemed it sensible to lurk at the edges of camp, rather than charge right into the middle of it and start a debate as she normally would. Creeping into the shadows, she was surprised to see that a cat was already there, grooming herself.

Frostpaw sighed. It seemed this cat was as given to the compulsion of grooming herself incessantly as she had always been. However, unlike her, Tawnystorm'd succeeded in continuing it. Frostpaw looked down at her chest and paws. She could hardly remember what it'd been like, looking down at her white-grey fur without it being marred by raw red stripes. She still groomed it as much as she always had, but her tongue could not replace the patches of fur lost to scars (or open wounds. It was usually open wounds).

Frostpaw couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy towards the she-cat for her beautifully groomed pelt. But she tried not to. Vanity was pointless. She knew it was, it was as trivial as romance or talking about the weather. But that didn't stop the feelings.

Frostpaw shook her head, growling internally at her idiocy.

Frostpaw went and sat a little way away from her, saying nothing. If she said something, she'd make a biting, undeserved scornful comment, and she couldn't be bothered with debating.

This also irritated her. Why had she suddenly become someone who bit her tongue and crept around others?

Knowing she'd end up biting herself if she didn't, she began to groom herself. Eyes closed, completely unaware of the outside world, she shut down in an attempt to maintain her sanity.

((Dude, I apologise for a very non-interactive post Frostpaw isn't herself, usually she'd have insulted your cat by now ))

[temp]

Always on alert, Tawnystorm caught Frostpaw in a matter of seconds. Honestly she was quite surprised that someone else would chose to sit in solitary at the edge of camp. Usually she was alone in her, well aloneness. Suddenly worried the other cat saw her watching her Tawnystorm quickly adverted her eyes. As if transfixed by her clan mate her eyes snapped back to her.

Her pelt was not beautiful and if it once had been there was nothing to make that evident. The other she-cat was missing fur in places and had scars but she insisted on grooming it anyways. I don't know whether to call that pride or idiocy... or what. The features on her face arranging themselves into a look of puzzlement. Maybe she was proud of them, her sin wounds. Just the thought disturbed her, how could anyone be proud of something so ugly? Something that labeled you as different, as bad.

The desire for companionship gnawed at her heart. No matter how unpleasant it might be Tawnystorm had to talk to her. She stood up, not moving for a second trying to tell herself going over there was a bad idea. It didn't work because in a matter of seconds she was timidly working her way over to the other cat. "Hey." she said, her voice quiet and strained.

[Its fine. I'm sorry for replying mega late I've been busy working on a metal sculpture]