... How /fun./ [HawkxRusset]

[Glowy]

Well... this was going to be fun. Hawkheart was on a hunting patrol with probably the most serious, most boring tom in the entire clan. Why Rabbitstep had paired them in a patrol, where she had to endure his company, she had no idea. It was most likely for revenge, or perhaps he thought that Russetstorm would be a "good influence" on her with his general... grimness. There was no opportunity for fun! Oh, for a hunting party with Elkstep and Shrewstorm! That was Hawkheart's idea of a good time, even if she couldn't abide Elksteps' manners most of the time. Still, she would rather have Elkstep ogling her hindquarters than be stuck with the Taciturn Wall of MeadowClan. She could at least smack Elkstep around if he misbehaved. But Russetstorm... no, it would most likely not be advisable for her to tackle the large, muscular tom at any point, even if it was just for kicks and giggles. He would take it seriously, just like he took everything seriously. Had she ever heard him laugh? Had he... had he ever smiled, for StarClan's sake? She racked her brain, trying to dredge up from the depths of her memory some inkling of a time she had ever seen her clanmate smile. Yeah. She couldn't find any. Why, oh why had she been assigned to hunt with him? It didn't matter if he was one of the handsomest toms in the clan (according to the entire she-cat population, who would fawn over his muscular shoulders and luxurious fur in secret- the entire she-cat population, of course, excepting Hawkheart), this had been no fun so far and she doubted that it would become very fun in the near future. She glanced at him, wondering if she should say anything to begin conversation, but her dignity was saved by the scent of a rabbit on the breeze. Now she wouldn't have to think of anything to say! She could just motor off after the rabbit and leave him standing there. And that, my friend, is precisely what she did. Her hind legs kicked up a small cloud of dust as she took off in pursuit of her quarry. Cripes, that rabbit was fast! Hawkheart had a difficult enough time keeping up with it, let alone gaining on the cursed thing. Still, she figured it was better than Russetstorm lumbering after the animal. Lumbering giant, he would barely be able to get a start chasing the rabbit before it had found its burrow. As for Hawkheart, she just barely missed it, her claws catching it just before it dove into its little private hole. She hoped that he would start the conversation himself. What could she say to this cat that he wouldn't be offended by? She normally didn't care what any cat thought of what she said, but this was Russetstorm. He was the clan's most useful asset in battle, and, despite her skills in giving beat-downs, Hawkheart would be no match for him if he became angry. She would much rather break his reputation and make him smile. Oh, what a delicious rumor that would make! She, Hawkheart, had seen Russetstorm smile! Ooh, the she-cats would be so jealous! Ah, drama. She smiled cheerfully, daydreaming about the shenanigans she could cause when she finally cracked his shell and got him to smile. speaking [bg=ded3bd][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[f i x a t e]

Why had Rabbitstep put him in a hunting party? He knew very well that Russetstorm was awful at hunting. Flicking his tail in frustration, Russetstorm glanced over at the she-cat at his side. She didn't appear to be very happy with the situation, either. He couldn't help but think that her reasons were different than his, though. She seemed okay with being assigned to a hunting party up to the point when she found out who she was paired with. Russetstorm didn't take it to heart, though; he was used to the look of disappointment that flashed across the more... excitable cats' faces when they were told that he would accompany them in their party. It was to be expected. Hawkheart was older than him by about 4 seasons, but Russetstorm acted very mature for his young age of 27 moons. Caught up in his worrying thoughts, he caught scent of the rabbit just as Hawkheart launched herself toward it. StarClan, please let her catch it, ((k thx, bai xP)) he prayed silently. He certainly didn't want to return to camp empty-pawed. That would most definitely not help him prove himself at all. Even if Hawkheart caught all of the booty, he would still be appreciated by association, right? Because he had a feeling this mission wouldn't be very successful if it relied upon his hunting abilities. His ears flicked in annoyance as she trotted back toward him, rabbitless. The noise had probably scared any prey within hearing distance. Pointing with his nose in the direction the wind was coming from, he turned toward Hawkheart and cleared his throat. "Errr... Right then. We should head upwind." Of course Russetstorm was aware that she knew perfectly well that they should travel upwind. For StarClan's sake, she wasn't an apprentice! Clearing his throat awkwardly again, he gave his chest fur a quick, self-conscious lick. He could tell that the she-cat was itching to fill the silence, as she found it boring, but Russetstorm was used to embracing it. He wasn't very skilled at small-talk, so he usually kept things quiet. He knew he needed to improve this skill if he ever wanted to advance, though, so he figured: why now try it out now? Clearing his throat yet again, (it seemed to be developing into an awkward habit), he glanced over at Hawkheart. "Hmm. Nice weather we've been having, right?" Averting his gaze quickly, he cast his eyes upwards. Angry, black clouds swirled overhead, threatening a storm. Dropping his head quickly in humiliation, he stole another glance at the she-cat. Would she think he was a mouse-brained fool, or being sarcastic? He was known for being a serious tom, so he doubted the latter was even plausible. Why was he cursed with such lousy social skills? speaking

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[Glowy]

Hawkheart smirked. Travel upwind. Of course they should do that! All the prey for miles around would have heard her aggravated hiss as the rabbit got away, and had most likely smelled the pair of them, besides. Not exactly the sharpest claw in the paw, was he? Well... at least, not when it came to hunting. In other areas, his expertise, Hawkheart was sure, couldn't be matched. She just hadn't quite discovered what those areas were yet. Would she ever? She doubted it. After all, to be accomplished in anything, a cat had to be at least as good as she was, and she had never met another cat she considered to be accomplished. (This was, as you may have guessed, a lie, but she would never admit that to herself. She had met a great many cats whom she considered to be accomplished. She just preferred not to dwell on them.) She gave him an amused glance, purring with laughter. "Yes, we may want to consider that. Or maybe we could scare some of the rabbits out of their burrows by sticking around here," she teased gently. This was odd. She was never this way around anybody. Perhaps it was because he wasn't opening any doors for her to create drama. His buttons were still covered safely, and that was slightly vexing. One of the things Hawkheart enjoyed more than anything was the insight into others that pushing their buttons brought. By exposing their insecurities, she could feel at least a bit more justified in her own. But... Russetstorm, he kept his under lock and key. She couldn't work him like she could the others. Why was that? It was intriguing to her. Out of her peripheral vision, she picked up his self-conscious licks, but she couldn't take those and corrupt them. For the first time in a very long time, she was at a complete loss as to how to deal with a cat. And he was almost a full cycle of the seasons younger than she was! What in StarClan's name was this trickery? She was so lost in her thoughts that she did not notice at first when he spoke. Her head snapped up at the sound of his voice, and she was vexed even more with that reaction. Hawkheart was NOT jerky and awkward. Everything about her was fluid and graceful- her voice, her body, her movements, even her condescension had a mark of grace about it. She caught his embarrassed glance earthward, pleased that he was just as embarrassed as she. But what had he said? Something about the weather being wonderful? "Mmm, yes, lovely weather," she murmured with a glance skyward, inspecting the roiling storm clouds above. "Lovely weather for ducks, that is. What do you say we head for some cover?" She smiled at the younger tom, then caught herself. No. No. This was not the Hawkheart that he was supposed to see. Nobody was supposed to see this... normal Hawkheart, not even herself. It hadn't been enough for her own father to love her by, so she needed to hide it away and make sure that nobody ever saw it. You'd think that if anybody was going to love her for herself, it would have been her father, right? So she disappeared. "I mean... the prey will be looking for shelter from the rain, too. Might as well go where they're going." Oh, but she had been locked away for so long. As much as she desired to remain secret, there was always a part of her that wanted to drop the act and just be herself. But no. He had to believe she was just the mask she put forward. Because if he knew the truth, then the whole clan would eventually know the truth, and her shortcomings and pain, which she detested more than anything, would be bared to their derision and caprice. Her clanmates would not be merciful if they saw what a pathetic state her heart was in. speaking [bg=ded3bd][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[f i x a t e]

Russetstorm wasn't a cat who joked around much, and his attempt at a joke would be... well, hilarious, but just because of its awfulness, rather than its comicality. He was well aware of Hawkheart's interest in joking around, pranking, and overall dramatic attitude, but he had never really experienced it. Come to think of it, this was the first time he had ever been alone with her. Sure, he'd been on border patrols with her, but there were always more than just the two of them. Scattering his thoughts with a shake of his head, he turned his attention back toward Hawkheart as she laughed softly at his first suggestion. He sure was glad she wasn't offended by it, as he thought she might be. With a relieved sigh, he listened to her teasing remark.. A more sociable cat would have seen it as an opportunity for a bit of playfulness, perhaps replying with a light cuff to her ear and a comeback about her possessing an unpleasant odor, but Russetstorm wasn't that cat, so he just simply nodded his head, and didn't think anything else of it. Russetstorm's eyes widened a bit as she jerked upward at the sound of his voice. He interpreted her jumpiness as intimidation. Was he really all that scary? He glanced down at his paws quickly, questioning whether he was cut out for this "socializing" thing; it was just so difficult and awkward. He raised his gaze to meet hers as she started to talk again, his expression unchanging, even after her little joke. He blinked softly, acknowledging that he heard everything she said, but he didn't laugh. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he laughed. It wasn't that things didn't strike him as funny, per se, but rather that he was too caught up in his serious business attitude to even consider chuckling in amusement at a remark. He just considered laughing at joke to be unnecessary, and didn't really find it rude not to do so. Maybe he could change... if he were to just relax a bit and not stress so much over proving himself. But he didn't even know where to start when it came to chilling out. He was always doing something; even when there was nothing to do, he busied himself by cleaning his pelt, which was a never-ending task. Woah... What in StarClan's name was that? Her smile had caught him off-guard. He blinked in surprise, eyes wide. She-cats didn't smile at him... like that. Or else he hadn't really noticed it before. Was he just that oblivious to the world, blinded by his own ambitions? He didn't consider himself a selfish cat; he always put the Clan first, but he realized that he put the Clan as a whole before himself, not the Clan as individual cats. He always lumped all the cats together, seeing them as just a part of the bigger picture, not the little things that made it up, even though every single cat was an important part of the entire thing. Perhaps not seeing their importance was the reason he couldn't connect with them? Turning away from his thoughts, head spinning, he looked back toward the she-cat again. Her expression had changed completely, more guarded now. She corrected her original statement with a less... personal one. Was she struggling with her feelings and emotions as much as he was? Or was he alone in his confusion? He nodded briefly at her suggestion and skirted her gaze, before starting forward toward the cover of the trees. He didn't wait for her, but his line of sight did flicker to the side, looking to see if she was near. He cleared his throat again, as if he were about to speak, but said nothing. So much for attempting to improve his conversation skills. Coward. Just say something. You'll never be a leader if you can't connect on an emotional level with other cats. Panicked by his nagging thoughts, he racked his brain for something, anything, to say. Coming up blank, he uttered the only word he could think of that wouldn't make him sound like a complete mouse-brained fool. "Hi." It didn't fit into the situation at all, but hey, at least it was friendly. Russetstorm didn't lower his head in shame as he did before. He wouldn't let her see that his brain was completely muddled right now, about as useful as a pile of mud. speaking

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[Glowy]

Why did Russetstorm keep looking at her? It was unnerving. Everybody else was content to merely stare past her, but this tom... he seemed intent upon keeping her in his field of vision. And he kept making eye contact. That was the strangest thing of all. If Hawkheart ever looked anybody in the eyes, it was because she had made eye contact with them. It was never vice-versa. They all seemed to be frightened by the prospect of looking her in the eyes, like making eye contact would release all the secrets of their souls to her, and everybody knew what Hawkheart did with secrets. Russetstorm was not intimidated by this, however. Why? How could he stand to look in her eyes? Why did he even want to? She wasn't all that interesting, honestly. If eyes were the window to the soul, hers were made of one-way glass, with the shielded part facing outward. But, no matter how dark the shield was, it was still possible to see past it and catch shadowy glimpses of the inner workings of her mind. That was why, if eye contact was to be made, it was to be on her own schedule and of her own accord. It was one of the only ways she could ensure protection. He was invading her comfort zone, and she finally understood, on a very basic level, how her clanmates felt around her. She'd thought it impossible for her self-loathing to be increased, but sometimes the unthinkable can happen, for nobody can see all ends, not even the very wise. At least he seemed to be struggling with things as much as she was. Gosh, why was this hunting trip so freaking awkward? How was this... how was it possible for her to feel this lost and confused? She'd gotten over that a long time ago, once she refused to let her clanmates see her pain. How embarrassing it was that he could catch a glimpse of her true self. She was not happy with herself. The clouds broke just as she reached the trees, pelting the ground with little wet droplets. It was odd, actually. Hawkheart could handle streams and rivers perfectly well, but when it came to rain... well, her brain kind of dissolved and all she could think about was staying out of the evil deluge. She flicked her tail and shivered, sneering up at the sky. "I don't like the rain much," she offered with an affected shrug, figuring that talking about the weather was at least better than going "Hi" awkwardly. For such a collected tom, he sure was self-conscious. Should she take that and use it to her advantage? ... no. She didn't feel like it. For now, she was content to simply be. What trick of the universe was this? She saw a flaw in somebody and did not want to capitalize on it? The last time that had happened, she'd been an apprentice. She had no idea what was going on. speaking [bg=ded3bd][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[f i x a t e]

As the first drops of liquid started to fall, Russetstorm broke into a run, stretching his muscles as he headed for cover. It wasn't that he completely hated the rain, he just wanted a little change in pace. It wouldn't hurt to be a little warmed up for when he came across prey, too. Uggh. That reminded him of their looming mission to bring back food. They could say all the animals went into their dens as the storm broke, right? As he reached the edge of the forest, he took a seat and stared out at the meadow in front of them. The sound of the rain was comforting, and the rumble of thunder in the distance was quite enjoyable; at least in Russetstorm's mind. He had always loved storms, despite their sometimes terrifying circumstances. They gave him a chance to feel strong, because while other cats were cowering and hiding in their dens in fear, Russetstorm would be staring out fearlessly at the flashes of light as they flickered across the sky. The admiration that crossed some of his clan mates' faces made him feel invincible... it gave him a chance to escape his worrying mind. "Yes, I could do without the rain as well." As much as he loved the actual storms, he wasn't a fan of the rain. Water just wasn't his thing. His thick coat took hours to dry out after getting wet, and weighed him down even more. He was a waterlogged tom in an extremely bad mood when he got drenched. Not that the other cats could really tell... he was always controlled with his emotions, keeping them locked up, and his facial expressions guarded. But he was a bit more harsh with his words... There was no hiding that. Russetstorm glanced over at Hawkheart to see where her gaze had drifted. He could see that his attempt at any kind of eye contact was bothering her. What was she so scared of? He was the master of emotion disguise, so never worried about meeting anybody's gaze. Only in times of extreme shock, worry, grief, fear, or pride would his expression give away how he was feeling. Otherwise, the outside world was pretty much oblivious to his inner-works. He had become a master of the mask--an emotionless expression that made him appear to be completely fearless and put-together. Sure, there were little hints of anger here, a flash of sadness there, but only those who were close to Russetstorm could ever notice them; and right now, he was lacking in the friends department. Hawkheart was one of the few cats he'd noticed that didn't meet his gaze. Sure, there were several that didn't meet it out of intimidation, but the expression on Hawkheart's face wasn't the same as theirs... In a moment of abundant boldness, Russetstorm looked over at Hawkheart, tilted his head to the side, and examined her expression. "Why do you avoid eye contact?" After the words were out of his mouth, he gasped internally. Had he really just said that? Yes, he had, and he'd better prepare himself just in case she clawed his ear. He was ready to flinch if she took a swing, but Russetstorm wondered if that would be her real reaction... He was curious as to her reasoning behind skirting others' gaze, and questioned whether she was really as put-together as she made herself out to be. After all, Russetstorm was a pro at hiding his true self, himself. speaking

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[Glowy]

Thunder pealed across the sky like a great lion's purr, and Hawkheart closed her eyes and let herself sink into the sound. Thunder had always been her favorite part of summer storms. It comforted her, somehow, reminded her of her... the Queen that had become her mother. Hawkheart had always liked to snuggle up against her chest and listen to the purrs bouncing around inside. Listening to the thunder just then dissolved the walls of time (it didn't take much more than water, for they were made of sand) and transported her to much, much simpler days when her only thoughts had been of Mother and Warm and Milk and Light. A bitter smile stole over her face, and she shook her head. Alas, those days were gone. Now she had much darker thoughts to occupy her mind with. She made a noncommittal noise at his statement, an odd sort of humming in the back of her throat, not quite sure what to say in response to that. She couldn't agree with him. She'd started it. He knew she agreed. Not much else could be said on the subject, so she left it be. A few moments of silence followed then, until he examined her face again (seriously, what was it with this guy?) and spoke. A flash of lightning, then a peal of thunder, and then she had to face him. Well, she had been facing him already, watching the lightning flash upon his face, but now she actually had to talk to him. "Why do you avoid eye contact?" She blinked a few times just to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. He had just asked her a personal question. She blinked a few more times, trying to recover from her general shock. That was literally the first time anybody had asked her any kind of personal question since she had been a kit. Her mentor, for obvious reasons, hadn't given a rat's hindquarters about her, and the few friends that she'd had as an apprentice hadn't been particularly close ones. Russetstorm appeared to care. He wasn't out to find information to use to his advantage. That couldn't be his motivation, and caring was the only other reasonable reason she could think of for such an intimate inquiry. Well, aside from base curiosity, but she highly doubted that he would ask something like that simply because he was wondering. He wasn't that kind of cat. Still, she was hesitant to divulge the answer, partly because she did not know the full answer herself. So she contented herself with sighing and shaking her head. "You're a very strange cat, you know that? Nobody asks me things like that," her voice, though mostly controlled and level, still shook a bit. Oh, but I want them to. I want them to love me and care about me and want to know why I'm the way I am. But she was so frightened to let them all in... Perhaps she could start with one? If she got hurt, oh well. She could deal with pain. "If I told you I didn't know, would you believe me?" speaking [bg=ded3bd][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[f i x a t e]

Russetstorm saw the shock spread across her face, just as it had on his. The question had changed everything; it took the simple hunting trip to a whole new level--one that was extremely personal. Russetstorm had never even had a personal conversation with anyone before, besides his mom; and even those weren't about his feelings. So why his brain felt the need to make his tongue utter those words was beyond his comprehension. Was he subconsciously seeking an emotional relationship? Did his mind detect that Hawkheart was feeling the same way? Was that even possible? His head reeling with questions, he turned back toward her to study her expression as she addressed his impulsive inquiry. "You're a very strange cat, you know that? Nobody asks me things like that,"

[/s]

Russetstorm looked away, out at the meadow, contemplating how to reply to this. Yes, he knew he was a strange cat. He wasn't like the others; that much was blatantly obvious every time he sat off on his own eating his prey while the other warriors gathered around in large group, enjoying each others' company, laughing, and just having a good time. He never partook in any of that, and he very rarely did he share tongues with his clan mates. Maybe he craved the social interaction, but never really knew it.

"Perhaps they never knew that such a question needed to be asked."

He looked at her with an expression of understanding, a touch bit of compassion leaking through his facial shield. He was by no means letting this she-cat in, but he felt that such a statement could not be said with the emotionless mask covering his face. He did feel as though he understood her, though, because even though he blocked everyone out, underneath it all he desperately wanted someone to come along and break down all those walls that he fought so hard to put up.

"If I told you I didn't know, would you believe me?"[/s]

Russetstorm took a minute to consider this, staring up at the ominous clouds as they emptied themselves out onto the earth below. It didn't take him that long to formulate an answer, because he understood right away.

"Yes." He paused, and turned his gaze over to her again, a lost and distant look in his eyes. "Yes, I would." He then grew silent, and shifted his gaze back out to the field.

Russetstorm understood what she meant. Why did he himself block out other cats? Weak cats do not show fear. His mind answered for him, and his expression hardened automatically. He thought back to all the stories his mother had told him about fearless cats that were brave and courageous. They weren't known for getting upset or talking about their feeeelings. So why was he finding it so hard? With a frustrated sigh, he turned his gaze to the sky, willing StarClan to help him.


speaking[/blockquote]
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R U S S E T S T O R M ~

[/font]
You will never know... How many emotions I choose not to show.[/right][/font][/color]

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Glowy]

Okay. Yeah. That? That right there? What in the Blue Blazes was that? What was that in Russetstorm's voice, on his face, in his eyes? It looked strangely like... feeling. Yes, that, that right there, looked like genuine, honest-to-StarClan, bona fide, emotion. Feeling. Compassion. Perhaps... perhaps there was even a bit of empathy mixed in there as well. "Perhaps they never knew that such a question needed to be asked." Well, how could they? She'd made sure that nobody in her clan even had an inkling of an idea of what was going on inside her mind. It made sense. Still, hearing somebody say it out loud caused a series of strange stirrings inside of her heart. Hawkheart's eyes closed slowly, and stayed closed for a long time, while her very world seemed to turn more slowly, resisting the flow of time. A sigh caused her chest to rise and fall, and when she opened her eyes again, she was composed once more. She only responded with a nod, then tilted her head to one side, and the other, stretching her neck in a leisurely manner. See, that wasn't so bad. Nothing had blown up, not yet. He wasn't disgusted so far. In fact, he was empathetic. He was empathetic and compassionate, which Hawkheart, with her pride, much preferred to bland sympathy any day. "Good," she said simply, nodding with satisfaction. "Because it's true." She inclined her head to him, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. Should she? Would he be offended if she did? Would he see it as an impertinence? Since when did she care? To the pit with it. She would ask, no matter what he thought! She was Hawkheart, freaking self-appointed She-Badger Extraordinaire of MeadowClan! She bowed to nobody's will but her own, cared for nobody's opinion but hers! "What about you, though?" Her voice held none of its normal capriciousness; she genuinely... dare I say it?- she genuinely cared. If not about Russetstorm himself, than about the answer he would give. She was curious. And, hey, an eye for an eye, right? "I never see you talking to anybody. How come?" She tried to catch his gaze, but he was staring out into the field. Why was he being difficult all of a sudden? She was supposed to be the difficult one! Toms. speaking [bg=ded3bd][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[f i x a t e]

His green eyes searched her tense expression, relieved when it relaxed a little. As she began to question him, though, he grew tense. He hadn't quite expected the question to turn on him, but now he could see that he had totally set himself up for her to question his reclusive ways. "What about you, though? I never see you talking to anybody. How come?" Russetstorm chuckled softly, playing it cool. He wouldn't let this little question stir him up. He knew that he couldn't change the subject--no, Hawkheart would never allow that. Maybe a more... submissive she-cat would let the moment pass, but not her. He racked his brain for a plausible excuse, or something to buy time. He stammered over his words, his tones sounding somewhat overconfident. "I have not the slightest idea what you are talking about. Of course I talk to people." Hey, it wasn't a complete lie. He did talk to other cats, about everyday Clan life. You know, "Fetch some fresh bedding for the elders den." to an apprentice, "We put up fresh scent markers along the border, but there's nothing to report." to Rabbitstep after returning from border patrol... But he knew that this wasn't what Hawkheart meant, and that she'd deny this answer in a heartbeat. Perhaps it'd even anger her a bit... There was no telling with her. Either way, he needed to prepare himself for his real answer. Just thinking over the question made his heart race, and he unsheathed and retracted his claws nervously. He had never been asked a question this personal before. Cursing himself silently for bringing it up, he thought over the situation in his mind. He easily came up with an answer for his reasoning behind avoiding eye contact, but this wasn't what she had asked. Hawkheart had brought up a very good point that Russetstorm himself didn't even consider. Why couldn't he befriend his clan mantes? Just because he refused to open up to others, didn't mean that he had to avoid relationships with them at all... His tail flicked nervously at this realization, but he kept his gaze out on the field. Maybe it wouldn't be such a crime to have a few close friends, but still, every conversation he carried with other cats ended up being awkward. He didn't even know if it was possible for him to be social, but he ought to give it a try... After giving Hawkheart the answer she deserved. "If I told you I didn't know, would you believe me?" He turned his gaze toward her, one side of his mouth pulled up into a tiiiiiny, crooked smile (!!!), as he mocked her words. speaking

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[Glowy]

Oh, Hawkheart saw through Russetstorm's act, all right. His voice was just too jaunty, the change in his mood too sudden for it to be genuine. After all, nobody went from being tense to perfectly calm in the blink of an eye, not even the most disciplined warrior in the forest. She raised a skeptical eyebrow as he began to chuckle, shaking her head at him in her mind. Didn't he know she would see through him? "I have not the slightest idea what you are talking about. Of course I talk to people." "I meant really talking, like we're doing now. You know, stuff other than clan business." An impatient huff escaped her lips, and she narrowed her eyes at him for good measure. Here she was, making an honest effort to connect with somebody, and they were being as difficult as she was! Oh, the nerve! The disrespect! She ought to just pick up and walk away- leave Russetstorm all by himself and his bravado. That would teach him a lesson! And she honestly had half a mind to teach it. Ah, but then she looked at him again. She looked and she saw him sitting there working his claws in the earth, mulling something over in his mind. The expression on his face, less guarded than usual, was enough to make her stay, even if it was mere curiosity that held her paws to the ground and her breath in her throat. It wasn't like she sympathized with him. Oh, no, Hawkheart was above such things as feeling. She herself began to knead the ground with her paws, giving her chest a self-conscious lick while his attention was directed elsewhere. And then he spoke. And then he smiled. He. Smiled. It was just a little inchworm of a thing, but it was a smile. Hawkheart blinked a few times, rapidly, attempting to wake herself from the dream she was sure she had slipped into. Russetstorm did not smile in the waking world. "Fair enough," she mewed once she had regained her composure satisfactorily, shaking her head with a half-chuckle. Of course he would use her own words against her. He did so many other things to shake her, why not do that? "But what if I told you I didn't believe you?" She threw the challenge with eyebrows raised and a defiant hint of a smile on her lips, very pleased with herself. If he could challenge her, she could do the same back to him. Honestly, though, she did suspect that he had a better answer to her question. He'd just been teasing her. And if not, well, it wouldn't be the first time she'd been wrong about anything. speaking [bg=ded3bd][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[f i x a t e]

"I meant really talking, like we're doing now. You know, stuff other than clan business.".

[/b]

The anger that flashed across her face was amusing, to say the least, even though Russetstorm was fully expecting it. He wasn't one to push other cats' buttons, but that was an opportunity he just couldn't pass up. Although there would be many more opportunities, as it was quite easy to annoy Hawkheart. Surprised that she didn't give him a cuff to the ear, he glanced over at her, to see an expression of... interest? Was he really all that confusing of a cat? Psssh. Did he really just ask himself that question? He looked away before he could see her nervous lick and pawing of the ground.

She seemed rather flabbergasted when the hint of a smile crossed his face. His whiskers twitched in amusement at her dumbfounded expression. Maybe he should do that more often. Her bewildered blinks only tugged his smile up higher, until it was no longer just a little curve at the edge of his mouth, but something that resembled a sneer.

"Fair enough,"

The look of amazement disappeared from her face, as the composed and in-control expression of Hawkheart returned. She seemed to be hinting that her next statement would be one that would make him regret his mockery. Oh dear, what would she say now?

"But what if I told you I didn't believe you?"

....Annnd the gauntlet was thrown to the ground. Her challenging stare only added to the... intimidation he was feeling. Russetstorm, intimidated? Since when did that ever happen? He was always the one to be intimated by, not the one on the other side of the deal. A frustrated exhale of air escaped his nostrils, as he looked away again, turning his whole head. How would he answer this, when he honestly didn't know himself? Was she trying to fluster him? Of course. That would be a total Hawkheart move.

"I would say that you're wrong."

His voice was neutral, and his expression guarded again. He didn't look at her when he said this statement, his gaze was still fixed towards the field, perhaps even beyond it, on something that only he could see. The rain was still pouring down, and lightening flashed across the clearing; the storm was getting closer.


speaking[/blockquote]
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[Glowy]

"I would say that you're wrong." Well, of course she was. It was only to be expected. This tom specialized in shooting all her preconceived notions about... well, everybody, to death. With a rifle. A fully automatic assault rifle, a perfect killing machine. He was the AK-47 of her little MeadowClan universe. She'd thought this was going to be a boring hunting trip; it was not. She'd thought he had no feeling in him at all; he did have feeling. She'd thought that he never smiled, and, as it turns out, he did smile. He just had. And he'd smiled at her. Nobody ever smiled at her. Not even teasingly. It just plain wasn't done. When she walked up to most cats, they either responded with a sneer, a cower, or just a blank stare. But... to be smiled at, and to have said smile widen... it was a miracle. She still couldn't get over it. Why had he? What? She didn't even know. Her head shook as she tried to force her thoughts into order. ... and now he was staring off into the distance with his normal mask of indifference. Why did he do that? He'd open up, and then close right back down again. She supposed it was probably her. She made cats uncomfortable, to say the least. After a few moments of silence, she decided she ought to reply. "Well, StarClan knows it's not the first time I've been wrong about anything," she murmured with a bitter laugh, casting her gaze downward. She glanced back up at him, trying to follow his gaze into the distance. What did he see off in those distant clouds? What fantastical shapes were the grasses making before his eyes, being whipped about in the wind and the rain? And why in the name of everything she held dear did she find him to be so accursedly interesting? Why did she care? She couldn't care. She shouldn't care. He was just an awkward, grim, antisocial cat, who was... startlingly similar to her in some respects. She found herself empathizing with him. I would say that you're wrong. So neither of them knew why they were so... awkward. Or, well, neither of them were willing to share. Hawkheart knew exactly why she was the way she was; she had chosen it, after all. It just wasn't knowledgs that she gave to any cat that asked. Russetstorm was the first who had asked, admittedly, and that led her to believe that his intentions were honorable, but she couldn't be too careful. "You know, keep staring at the grass like that and you might scare it right back into the ground," Hawkheart teased with a light purr, trying to move along the conversation as they waited out the frightful storm. She gave his shoulder a good-natured shove, just for the heck of it. It would be interesting to see how he reacted to that. She smiled up at him (his head rose about a mouse-tail's length above her own when they were sitting) and waited for his response, hoping that she hadn't frightened him off. That would be just the thing, wouldn't it? Scaring off the first cat she had actually been intrigued by in a long time? speaking [bg=ded3bd][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[f i x a t e]

"Well, StarClan knows it's not the first time I've been wrong about anything," Russetstorm's gaze shifted to her as she broke the silence. That seemed to be a very bold statement coming from Hawkheart; one that might leave her feeling a bit vulnerable. Or depressed. This wasn't exactly a happy-sunshine conversation, after all. The two cats were unveiling their feelings together, uniting to figure out what was... wrong with them. Sure, Hawkheart seemed to get along find, laughing and smiling, but Russetstorm only guessed that it was a mask, much like his own. The two were more alike than he ever thought possible, and she'd been right in front of him the whole time. But he was too busy pushing everyone out that he was oblivious that any other cat was in a similar situation, but dealing with it differently. He couldn't think of an appropriate response, though. He could agree with her, but that would just make the moment even more negative, and the conversation was already a bit gloomy. So he simply gave a grunt of agreement. "You know, keep staring at the grass like that and you might scare it right back into the ground," He only nodded, not really feeling the humor in the moment. Russetstorm could find things funny at times, but he was a real srs bsns dude. He found her jokes to be amusing, though, just an asset to a conversation. He wasn't one to belt out laughing, though; he was a quiet guy. As she shoved his shoulder, his eyes widened in surprise. He wasn't used to physical contact at all with other cats. He cleared his throat awkwardly, his gaze darting from her to the ground. What was he supposed to do now? How would a different cat respond to the push? Should he just ignore it like it never happened? No, that would just ruin all the progress you have made, mouse-brain. With that thought, he raised a paw and held it in the air, contemplating whether he should shove her back. He hesitated, his paw hanging midair for a few moments, before lightly poking her shoulder; it was an extremely awkward movement. He set his paw back down, obvious embarrassment on his face. speaking

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[Glowy]

Russetstorm. This cat was... maddening. He didn't react. It drove Hawkheart absolutely insane how she couldn't get a rise out of him. He didn't laugh, he barely smiled, he spoke only when necessary... what was wrong with him? On that note, what was wrong with her? She went back and forth between wanting to get a reaction out of him and not caring what he did. It didn't make sense, this conflict in her mind. She wasn't fond of it, though, that's for sure. So why did she stick around? If she hated this, why stay? The truth was that she was intrigued by him as much as she hated him. She wanted to know what made him the way he was. Why was he immune to her efforts? Was it because she wasn't being herself? I mean, she was acting completely bizarre. She wasn't trying any of her usual methods to get a reaction (she didn't want that kind of reaction from him, anyway), she was talking about herself- her real self- in a very roundabout way, and it was coming naturally in the moment. It was only after the fact that she began to freak out. That was also something she never did. She never freaked out. It was an action that she preferred to suppress, and she did, most of the time. She didn't know what it was that made him so different. It was probably because he treated her differently than anybody else. He didn't shrink away, react with aversion, or view her as a tool to cause more shenanigans. He was... what was he doing? She didn't know. He was nodding. He was grunting. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand he was holding his paw awkwardly in the air. And he was poking her oh, the jolts that shot through her body with that grazing touch, for nobody touched her except in battle. Oh, he was amusing, alright. Russetstorm. This cat was... likable. "Well, hi there," she chortled, highly amused. How had she ever thought this was going to be boring? "HOLY MOTHER OF A BADGER!" A huge clap of thunder opened right over their heads, causing Hawkheart to jump nearly out of her skin. She found herself scrambling up the thickest tree she could find, which wasn't much wider than Russetstorm's shoulders, with her pelt sticking up in all directions and her face pulled back in a silent hiss. Lightning lit up the entire meadow with a blinding ferocity, narrowing Hawkehart's pupils to terrified slits. The rain began to pelt the earth with a renewed vigor and replenished volume. One would be hard pressed to see a few tail-lengths in front of themselves. Unfortunately, Hawkheart's brave leap up the tree had carried her back a bit too far from Russetstorm, and he was barely a shadow to her eyes. She wanted to call out to him, like a frightened child, but she didn't. She was above that. What would he think of her? So she slowly pried herself off of the tree and slunk beneath heavier vegetation, taking deep breaths. Goodness sakes, that had scared the daylights out of her! "Here. There's better cover from the rain back here," she called to the shadow of Russetstorm with a tremulous voice, each breath shaking with adrenaline and fear. Hawkheart was mortified that he'd had to see that. What would he think of her now? Great Scott, her reputation was just being smashed to bits by this storm. Great. She'd never be able to save face in front of him again. [bg=ded3bd][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]