can you teach me how to feel real && private

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    [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 1px solid white; height: 140px; width: 120px; background:url(http://i.imgur.com/jTJNH1B.jpg) center; background-size: 110%; margin-top: 3px; margin-left: -2px;][/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: 1px solid #F2F2F2;font-family: arial;text-align: justify;color: black;width: 140px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -1px; margin-top: 4px; margin-left: -2px; font-size: 15px; padding: 5px;][i]CAUSE IF I COULD SEE YOUR FACE ONCE MORE, I COULD DIE A HAPPY MAN I'M SURE.[/fancypost] [fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: 1px solid #F2F2F2;font-family: bookman oldstyle;text-align: justify;color: black;width: 240px; height: 20px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -2px; margin-top: 4px; margin-left: 15px; font-size: 20px; padding: 15px;][i]FORGINGSWORDS.[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: none; width: 270px; font-size: 9.5px; line-height: 12px; text-align: justify; color: black; font-family: verdana;]Today started off just like any other day. The flaming auburn liger rose from his den - a shallow cave on a hillside because the home he originally desired was occupied by a newcomer like him, and he didn't have the heart to argue for it - and entered the main camp of Skyclan. The stone tunnels and ancient buildings reminded him not of the Skyclan he used to know, but of Bloodclan where he was born all those years ago. The cool stone underfoot and labyrinth of lookalike halls brought up many memories- good and bad. All of them were fuzzy, however, just like everything in his mind that originated from his first life. It appeared reincarnation was not kind.




    Anyways, he entered the main camp in order to eat, socialize with clanmates, and then start patrolling and greeting newcomers. At noon, that was his cue to break off from the main group and wander. This wanderlust was something born from his old age, and not his youth. In his youth, he had his father to live up to, and Chillygaze to chase after. When he wasn't sparring with a colleague or slaying a rogue, he was sneaking off into the night to see his lover from an enemy clan. It was a regular scandal, and he missed every second of it. But he had disappeared - died, apparently. His mate and his children were gone, as was his father and mother.




    Now he simply explored, a mindless habit that began as a sort of physical effect of his mind chasing after his slowly disintegrating memories. Oftentimes he would sort through whatever he could salvage carefully, all the while parousing through meadows of sweet-smelling wildflowers and crossing natural bridges across creeks. The more he thought, the farther he went, although he was not concerned. Forgingswords enjoyed Skyclan, he really did, but it did not only bring good feelings. Guilt. Disappointment. Regret. All things that haunted him for every waking moment. He needed to escape. He needed to be nothing more than a puny mortal navigating his way through Mother Nature and entirely at Her mercy.




    An hour or two later, the hulking predator stood at the edge of a small creek, lapping at the crystal clear water greedily, his throat aching from hours of walking in the sun with no refuge. Forge looked around at the open glade that he had wandered into, and decided that here was a good place to take a rest. He would probably return home in a few hours - he could not be gone for too long.

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    He had not yet to call any clan his home. Only recently had he joined Windclan, and after analyzing their status and creatures there, he decided it would be a lovely place to call home. But there was a certain hesitation to labeling such a new place with such a safe, warm noun. Often he believed home was not a place, but a person; someone you could return to and feel a certain nostalgic comfort in the warmth of their fur. But Orion also lacked that. But home or not, Windclan was a place he decided he could conform to it's rules and sleep in one of their dens. It took time to realize what was home and what was not, he knew. The melanistic tiger didn't seem bothered much by these thoughts, though. There was a sudden peacefulness that had settled over him recently, and it came without worry or impatience.


    He was a nomadic man. His paws yearned to feel new crust beneath them, his nose hungry to smell the pine of forests and the salt of beaches. So without a proper place to call home, he felt no leash on him now. No thoughts that whined at him to not go too far. So the brute soon found himself in a glade, bird chirping from high up where they perched, their sweet calls seeming to stretch for miles. The greenery of the trees spread and hung from tree branches, offering shade from the sunlight, which spilled from openings in the foliage. The air hung with clear pressure- a nice day with a slight breeze to it that would chill the tiger from time to time. It was nice.


    Hearing the soft trickling of water pouring over rocks, the mammal approached a narrow but long creek that winded about the glade. Finding the sounds soothing and the crystal water luring, he bowed his head to lap up a few swallows of water before shaking the water droplets from his chin. Letting stormy grey visions scan the lush terrain, he found himself staring steadily upon a liger. He hadn't seen one of those in a while. The scent of Skyclan stuck to the other's fur, and Orion had no change in stance. Windclan and Skyclan were neutrals, so Orion had no worries of the other.


    "Hello," He greeted cautiously.


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    [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 1px solid white; height: 140px; width: 120px; background:url(http://i.imgur.com/jTJNH1B.jpg) center; background-size: 110%; margin-top: 3px; margin-left: -2px;][/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: 1px solid #F2F2F2;font-family: arial;text-align: justify;color: black;width: 140px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -1px; margin-top: 4px; margin-left: -2px; font-size: 15px; padding: 5px;][i]CAUSE IF I COULD SEE YOUR FACE ONCE MORE, I COULD DIE A HAPPY MAN I'M SURE.[/fancypost] [fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: 1px solid #F2F2F2;font-family: bookman oldstyle;text-align: justify;color: black;width: 240px; height: 20px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -2px; margin-top: 4px; margin-left: 15px; font-size: 20px; padding: 15px;][i]FORGINGSWORDS.[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: none; width: 270px; font-size: 9.5px; line-height: 12px; text-align: justify; color: black; font-family: verdana;]At the sound of pawsteps approaching, tired eyes flickered upwards to peer through the tall grasses, the lobby pupil contrasting against the molten hue of his orbs like an ancient mosquito suspended in preserved Amber. Forgingswords' military training taught him to take a defensive stance, his muscular body lowering itself closer to the ground and paws squaring. But then the breeze shifted, and a faint scent of Windclan wafted off of the Ebony wildcat stalking in his direction. The stranger did not seem to notice him at first, and Forge took that opportunity to straighten himself out and not look like a snarling behemoth with a thirst for blood.




    [b]"Howdy," he rumbled in response, voice carrying a nuance of apprehension despite the confidence of his tone. Forge had two different backgrounds telling him two different things to do in this situation. One said to fight this solemn stranger, tear out his throat without a second thought. The other said to offer a delicate smile and participate in the exchange of pleasantries. Fortunately he listened to the latter - the voice of his former mate. The only visible sign of his distress was the razor sharp claws slicing into the soft earth beneath him.




    Forgingswords studied the other intently, examining the dark fur and shining eyes. The male was only a bit smaller than himself, which was something new considering most people he came across only came up to his knees. "Uh, so you're from Windclan?" he asked before immediately cringing. That was horrid. If only he took better notes on how to socialize and initiate conversation. Also how not to be so awkward. That would be nice, not being so awkward. He coughed. "I'm from Skyclan, but uh, you probably already know that." this was just getting worse and worse. "My name is Forgingswords."

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    At first, it seemed the stranger was ready to attack him. Perhaps he shouldn't have wandered this far from Windclan's protection. Orion's muscles rippled under his dark fur, tensing a moment as they waited each other out a brief moment. The tiger straightened once he noted the other seem to relax. Silver orbs unblinking, he held the male's amber gaze steadily.


    Easing into a polite conversation, the brute dipped his head in greeting. He let the other speak and finish his rather awkward speech, holding in a soft laugh. Deciding all was well, he decided to seat himself- a sign of easiness and non-hostility. "Right..." He said softly. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Forgingswords," He replied with a slight nod, testing out the other's name. "I'm Orion."


    / rushed bc school


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    [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 1px solid white; height: 140px; width: 120px; background:url(http://i.imgur.com/jTJNH1B.jpg) center; background-size: 110%; margin-top: 3px; margin-left: -2px;][/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: 1px solid #F2F2F2;font-family: arial;text-align: justify;color: black;width: 140px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -1px; margin-top: 4px; margin-left: -2px; font-size: 15px; padding: 5px;][i]CAUSE IF I COULD SEE YOUR FACE ONCE MORE, I COULD DIE A HAPPY MAN I'M SURE.[/fancypost] [fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: 1px solid #F2F2F2;font-family: bookman oldstyle;text-align: justify;color: black;width: 240px; height: 20px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -2px; margin-top: 4px; margin-left: 15px; font-size: 20px; padding: 15px;][i]FORGINGSWORDS.[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: none; width: 270px; font-size: 9.5px; line-height: 12px; text-align: justify; color: black; font-family: verdana;]A sheepish smile crossed his rugged features, a soft breeze disturbing the short tufts of mane along his jaw and chin and giving a very huggable to the immense wildcat. Forgingswords was relieved that the stranger kept his cool, and did not pay much mind to his graceless prattling. Forge was never one for talking, especially since he preferred to listen to Chillygaze boss everyone, including himself, around. He could listen for hours upon hours...




    He stopped that precarious train of thought with a set of his jaw and proceeded to dip his cranium politely in response to the smokey tiger's introduction. [b]"Pleasure to meet you," he said, offering a tiny smile. In that moment, he shuffled his paws awkwardly, glancing about as he attempted to summon something interesting and engaging to speak about. But all he could muster was a bland: "The water's nice, ain't it?" Forgingswords cringed awkwardly and moved his gaze up to the distant horizon to spare him the pain of seeing the judgement in Orion's eyes. "I mean, the water from where I was born was usually filled with mud or blood. My clanmates were never really cleanly. You know, Bloodclan. Or maybe you don't. Um." at this point he was ready to crawl in a hole and die. "Anyways the water here is nicer than I was used to."

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    The predator was silent a moment as he patiently listened to the other stumble through his speech once again. But this time he let a smile grace his muzzle, a flick of his ear in amusement. The masculine nodded lightly in understandment. "Yes, the water's lovely here," He spoke with a tilt of his head, gazing over the water briefly. He turned his attention back to Forgingswords, shifting slightly, tail shifting in the tall grass.


    "Skyclan's a whiles away, if my bearings are right... If you don't mind me asking, what're you doing all the way out here?" He decided that was a reasonable question of conversation- though it would likely lead to the other wondering the same of Orion, for Windclan was about half an hour's walk from here.


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    [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 1px solid white; height: 140px; width: 120px; background:url(http://i.imgur.com/jTJNH1B.jpg) center; background-size: 110%; margin-top: 3px; margin-left: -2px;][/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: 1px solid #F2F2F2;font-family: arial;text-align: justify;color: black;width: 140px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -1px; margin-top: 4px; margin-left: -2px; font-size: 15px; padding: 5px;][i]CAUSE IF I COULD SEE YOUR FACE ONCE MORE, I COULD DIE A HAPPY MAN I'M SURE.[/fancypost] [fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: 1px solid #F2F2F2;font-family: bookman oldstyle;text-align: justify;color: black;width: 240px; height: 20px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -2px; margin-top: 4px; margin-left: 15px; font-size: 20px; padding: 15px;][i]FORGINGSWORDS.[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: none; width: 270px; font-size: 9.5px; line-height: 12px; text-align: justify; color: black; font-family: verdana;]The uncertain stumbling of his words paired with the sudden anxiety of entertaining the new person left a foul taste in his mouth. Forgingswords regretted ever opening his mouth. No, he regretted not knowing when to close it. He always felt so easy and confident with himself, when he was residing comfortably in his mind. But everytime he came across someone new, especially in one-on-one situations, Forge botched it time and time again. He told himself not to worry so much about it, but there was the simple fact that he did not feel very comfortable anymore. He was reborn into a completely different era of people, and it was nothing like the one he left. He missed his friends, his family.




    But the Maker thankfully blessed him with a stranger that did not judge him or make matter even worse. Orion listened with a paternal patience that Forge recognized within himself, and the other male simply continued the conversation rather than poke at the obvious weaknesses of the liger. The big guy did not say it outright, but he was great fun. Extremely so.




    Amber overs shifted from the distant mountains to the luminous steel pools of his new companion and offered a slight shrug in response to his querie. [b]"I'm not sure." Forge began, instinctively keeping the response short and vague. Years of living in a place where saying the wrong thing could get you beaten taught the mourning male to watch how much information he gave out when asked personal questions. It was not worded as a personal question, of course; but the answer was personal. Upon further thought, Forgingswords saw no reason to be curt, for Orion was a stranger and probably would remain so as most of the people Forge met did. "I suppose you could say I was letting my mind wander and my paws followed." he shrugged again, a simple and innocent motion. A lot of his mannerisms did not fit the eight hundred pound monster he was supposed to be.







    "And what about you? Youre awful far away, yourself."

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    The male's fur shifted in the light breezes that swept by, often carrying a delicate scent of wildflowers or morning dew. The air was light and cool, the sun spilling from gaps in the tree's foliage to warm the melanistic tiger's pelt easily. It seemed just the perfect day to stroll about, so it was no wonder these two wanderers had collided.


    Orion nodded curtly after the liger spoke his first statement, the small silence between them afterwards filled by the chirps of various birds about them. He was pleased when the other did add to his vague response, especially so since his explanation was one Orion understood completely. His silver orbs briefly scanned the other with tentative curiosity.


    And what about him? Why was he so far from the place he had just joined? He had been so sure that Windclan was not his home, but simply a place to rest his tired body. But he had stayed there now longer than a short day, which was what he always did when joining a new place. Nomadic, he called himself. But that word had become something of which he said all too much. He tired of it. Home was a new word, and one that was slightly foreign to his tongue.


    He paused at the question, asking himself why was he here? What had led him here. His eyes rested on the water's surface before flickering back to the liger across the creek. "I'm not sure, really," He replied with a slightly amused smile. "I've always travelled. I suppose it's just instinct."


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    [fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: 1px solid #F2F2F2;font-family: bookman oldstyle;text-align: justify;color: black;width: 240px; height: 20px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -2px; margin-top: 4px; margin-left: 15px; font-size: 20px; padding: 15px;][i]FORGINGSWORDS.[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=rgba(255,255,255, 0.9); border: none; width: 270px; font-size: 9.5px; line-height: 12px; text-align: justify; color: black; font-family: verdana;]Forgingswords was a traveler as way. Always moving, rarely staying in one place longer than a month or two. He only ever stayed for Chillygaze, but even that did not last long. He moved for her. And then he left her for Maker knows why and he regretted it to this day. And ever since then he has been moving. Bloodclan. Then to Colouredclan after his mother passed away. Then back to Skyclan. And the periods in between were spent roaming the loner lands and picked up the scattered pieces of his shattered memories.


    After so much moving, he found it hard to stay in one place.


    [b]"I can understand that one," he said warmly in response, shutting his luminous amber orbs for a few heartbeats, breathing in the crisp air. Perhaps their motivations were different, but in essence, the pair of ferocious predators were one in the same. Forge took another look at Orion, admiring the stunning inky blackness of his pelt and the cold chill of his steel grey orbs. He tried to not think about who it reminded him of. But there was something else about this new person that caught his attention: the calm. Orion had an air about him that was different than most. Forge could not say exactly what it was, but he knew he felt [i]something

    		 . The liger liked to think he was in tune with his instincts.




    A disturbance in his gut changed the immense beast's train of thought. He peered at the sky, noting the sun directly overhead and then glanced at Orion. "Would you care to join me for a hunt?" he offered with a tilt of his massive cranium, peering at the other expectantly.

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