You Say Right, I Go Left. It's a Fact of Life. {Taz}

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    Watching him for a moment, Darkmantle lay down casually, and turned her head away, looking up at the clear sky. Atticus... Sounded like some sort of God, or peaceful interpreter. But what should she introduce herself as? In the Clan, she had never made it past an 18-moon Apprentice, at which point her mate-to-be had been stolen, and Darkpaw had taken the last straw. Naming herself for the curious black drape over her shoulders and leaving ShadowClan behind, she had scraped out a Loner's life in the world.
    It was far better, she would always tell herself. But part of the she-cat was never convinced.


    "Darkmantle."
    If he noticed the Clan-like similarity, so what? She would tell - half the - truth. Clan life wasn't for her, and that was that.

    It was an interesting name for an interesting cat. Flicking his ears, he wondered where the name came from. A clan, maybe? She seemed like the cat that would've been born a loner, with her snappy attitude and natural hatred of bees, which had nothing to do with it, but Atticus just had a feeling that she had been a loner. But, he could be wrong. It was a two part name, so maybe she was a clanner. Or, ex-Clanner?


    "Lovely name. Where does it come from?", he asked, twitching his whiskers in curiousity.

    Oh, he had asked it. Trying - and failing - to remain relaxed and impassive, Darkmantle licked her tongue around the swelling on the inside of her mouth before replying. "ShadowClan name. It wasn't for me."
    It almost scared the sensible part of her brain that she could dismiss the first year and a half of her life away so soon...
    "Where'd you come from?"

    He really didn't think he deserved his name, though he absolutely loved it. He flicked the tip of his tail, trying to chase away the bad memories he had of his name.


    "Twolegs gave it to me. It's not for me either.", he said with an understanding look at Darkmantle. Maybe they got each other. Maybe they could become good friends.


    Atticus' drunken, drug abused twolegs were where he spent the bulk of his life. He hated them to the core, but his generous, caring attitude wouldn't show it. He rarely ever got mad and if he did, it would be wise to stay away from the tips of his claws.

    "Oh," she meowed flatly. Twolegs, huh...
    Despite rebelling against all she had been taught as an apprentice, Darkmantle had still not sunk to twolegs yet. There was just something about them... They created and destroyed, in a way that no cat could; their long-toed paws made magic with foods, and Monsters, and what they made they either demolished once more, or used as a weapon to do so. They were unique and amazing and terrifying and... "What were they like?"


    The brown tabby struggled to keep her voice care-free.

    Atticus didn't catch Darkmantle's flat 'Oh...' He was to busy sinking deeper and deeper into the thoughts of his wretched twolegs. No-they were not his. He was their's. But, they treated him lke a piece of crowfood, kicking him in the dirt and expecting him to just get up and shake it off, which is what he did, actually, for a while. He couldn't stand them though. All the catnip and liquor and things. They made the twolegs that way.
    "They weren't the best twolegs on the planet.", his voice more a growl than anything, anger sparking in his eyes. He was happy to have left them, but the way they treated him when he was with them.....

    Darkmantle saw the memories flashing in his eyes, and the faintest flicker of anger - or fear, so similar these days - in Atticus' eyes, and though she rarely listened to her own intelligence, the more logical side of her dropped the subject. Looking away, she quickly ran through her options of speech, and decided on, "Huh."
    It wasn't the best, but it would do.

    Simple answer, yes, but it was alright with him. Just the presence of the she-cat seemed to be alright for him. His anger and other emotions disappeared from his eyes, but one still remained: curiousity. "I must say, you interest me, Darkmantle. I don't know how, exactly. But, you do.", he confessed, though he was proud that he did so.

    Yes! It wasn't often that she thought so proudly, but her tactics had clearly worked; she interested him. Now that was something. Keeping her face impassive, Darkmantle rolled onto her back and watched Atticus with careful amber eyes. "Oh? How so?"

    He watched her smiling warmly. Hearing her innocent question, he shrugged, looking very calm and collected. "I'm not sure. You just seem like a very interesting she-cat, Darkmantle. I can't lie. ", raising an eyebrow, he purred, though it was friendly.

    Darkmantle continued to do her best to look relaxed, but this was the first cat in a long time that was doing exactly what she wanted. It was... Strange. But she caught herself in time, and shot back, with a grin, "Can't lie, huh? Okay... How do you find the circumference of a circle?"

    Darkmantle's attempts to look relaxed were starting to show in Atticus' eyes. It was funny to him, actually. He almost started laughing, but he didn't want to give it away. He wanted to see how long she'd hold it.


    Then, she gave him a reason to laugh and he grabbed the opportunity. "The circumference of a circle is not in my knowledge.", he laughed, twitching his whiskers in amusement.

    Raising her brows, Darkmantle smiled also. Completely oblivious to any doubts he might have of her, the brown tabby she-cat shrugged and rolled back onto her front, amber eyes as calm as she could make them.
    And most of her childhood was spent acting.
    She was good at it.*


    "It seems you have just as knowledge as me, then."



    *In her mind, anyways.

    Atticus wasn't stupid, but he sure wasn't good at math, if he even knew what it meant. The only type of math he did was counting his prey. Darkmantle's smile brightened his eyes as well, bringing his smile to a grin. A silly grin. "Then, we're one of the same, I guess.", he meowed, flicking his tail comfortably.

    Then I guess we're one and the same.
    "No." The single word rang out, sharp, in the fresh silence that seemed to have come. Her amber eyes flashed, and she felt her claws itching on the inside of her pads.
    I will never be the same as you.

    Atticus flinched at Darkmantle's sharp tone, not expecting her to come out like that. He stood, twitching his tail nervously. Was it something he said? He flattened his ears to his head and gave Darkmantle a wary glance. "I'm sorry. I meant, we have a few things in common.", he tried again, his voice soft as he shuffled his paws on the ground, obviously uncomfortable.

    Darkmantle made no reply, but rather remained coldly silent, eyes averted. She liked this tom, and the sensible part of the she-cat was begging for her not to mess this up - but the ruling part of her brain already had a list of snappy retorts and snide remarks lined up, and she was ready to spit them out at any moment.
    Yet when she dared to glance back and caught sight of his miserable eyes...

    Atticus took his gaze off of the she-cat, staring miserably at a beetle that just so happened to be scurrying on along. He took a deep, shakey breath, though tears were far from his eyes. He didn't cry over just anything, which was why he wasn't crying then. Yes, he was severly hurt by Darkmantle's actions, but he wouldn't show it with crying. He just stared at the beetle, then turned his gze back to her, seeing the coldness. It was gaurded though. Heavily gaurded. Something was behind that look of almost hatred. Something the tom didn't have the courage to find out.

    She stood up suddenly, and turned away - away from those regretful eyes, and that worried face, and the seeds of guilt they so expertly sewed into her pounding heart. She liked him, she could establish that. He... Was interested in her, she knew. She liked that he was interested in her. So what was wrong?
    If you stop being interesting, maybe he'll stop liking you!
    That sent a spark of panic through Darkmantle's legs that made her turn around again, fast. "I'm going to go into the shade, follow me if you want."


    The words came faster than she meant, and the she-cat struggled to keep her face impassive - but she turned away before her feelings could take control of her facial features aswell as her emotions, and trotted off, out of the hot, burning sun, and into the shade of a large tree nearby.

    Atticus took a deep breath. He was still pondering on what he had done wrong to so strongly offend the she-cat. It was so odd, the way she reacted, to his humorous joke. He was worried. Worried that it was something within him that had sparked it.


    No. He didn't want to follow her. It would be...awkward, sitting in silence, pondering on why the she-cat reacted so quickly. Her words, though, seemed rushed, almost nervous. Why? Oh, she was so confusing. He decided to just stay in the sun. If he went into the shade, more awkward moments were to follow. He just sat, thinking of leaving all together. Maybe an excuse? 'Hey, I'm going hunting, I'll be back later....' No. He'd just, get up and leave. No excuses. Not even a word.