Patches of Sun

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Sometimes he wished the world would freeze over.

And he sat there, eyes open but unseeing, his face characteristically blank as he looked to where the sun was setting. Was that a bit bold, wanting the world to freeze? Maybe. Maybe not. But moments like these, where he was actually able to enjoy sitting in a sunny spot away from camp, where he could think for a while without the inane chatter of apprentices surrounding him, where he didn't have to be busy chasing prey or driving out invaders . . . well, he used to have a lot more of them. BlizzardClan wasn't exactly the safest place any more. Sure, there was always some new danger cropping up every now and then--really wouldn't be a Clan if it had no one to oppose--but sometimes he just wished . . . wished that, maybe, he could just ... stay like this forever. No stress. No responsibilities. Just him, the forest around him, and the time to watch a sunset.

When was the last time he'd actually seen a sunset, anyway? Two moons? Three? He looked down for a moment, frowning. He couldn't remember.

Just great. What was he doing with his life? It all seemed like an endless cycle of patrol, hunt, and sleep. There had to be more to it than that, right?

Or maybe. Maybe not. Maybe that's what BlizzardClan expected of him: Be a loyal warrior, keep intruders out, and serve your leader. Not exactly the most exciting of lives, no, but at least he knew he had a nest waiting for him every night and a reliable food source. Besides, didn't he join a patrol to drive out a fox a while back? Or maybe it was some vicious otters . . . Come to think of it, he didn't really help in the sense of, um, helping. He'd cornered the creature with something like four other cats, and when the time to attack actually came, the cowardly little thing just sped off without a real confrontation. That was a good thing. No fights, no cuts, to worries.

Aaaand it was official. He was the most boring cat in all of Clan life. Hooray.

So he sat there, staring at the sun, tail unmoving and gaze unfocused, that tiny little frown still on his face. If the world froze over . . . maybe he could stay like this a little while longer.

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A female voice caught his attention.

Ivorywhisker blinked, glancing around as if noticing his surroundings for the first time. Someone was with him? He didn't usually get visitors. Not that he minded, of course, just that it was a little uncommon; cats typically didn't take the time to visit the day dreamer. He turned his head.

Great StarClan. It wasn't just anyone; it was the assistant deputy. The assistant deputy, one of the most important cats in the Clan. And she was watching him stare off into the distance like some loon.

How long had she been standing there? StarClan, how long had he been sitting there? He hadn't really meant to stay out long, just until he could clear his head and stop feeling like everyone was pressing in on him like the walls were shrinking and cramming him into a tiny box he couldn't escape from. That was only about an hour ago. Or, maybe two. Two hours, yes. And of course, he'd wandered a bit before he'd found this particularly sunny patch of sunlight--can't relax without being comfortable--and maybe it had been getting colder as the sun dropped . . .

No, no, no . . . he'd been out all day. Again. Fantastic. Slacking off his duties for the umpteenth time, and the first cat to call him out on it was one of the high positions in BlizzardClan.

But, as usual, Ivorywhisker smiled slightly at the newcomer. "Greetings, Lacelock." He tried to keep the smile up, he really did, but he didn't have it in him today. It slid off his face as he looked down, quickly breaking eye contact. No, no, pay attention to your deputy. He shook his head to clear it, breathed in, and looked up back to her. "I, ah, didn't expect to see you here." Understatement of the year. "You need anything?"

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OoC: {Ahhh, these things are getting longer. What's wrong with me? I'm not looking for advanced role-play yet, but I think I might have created a character who is hyper-sensitive to the cats around him, and now I can't tone him down. ;-; Oh, no. That word count. . . .}

Ivorywhisker noticed Lacelock's reaction to that name. A tiny thing. Almost insignificant, really. He wouldn't have described it as a flinch as that implies he'd accidentally struck a nerve and perhaps offended her. No, she didn't look hurt, per se. But there was definitely a reaction there.

Most cats might have missed it. StarClan, most cats might not even care. Ivorywhisker, though . . . Well, he supposed he was always watching for those little things--the little quirks, the odd behaviors, the minute changes in attitude. Not because he was trying to be observant. Hardly. And it wasn't even because he was looking for opportunities to take advantage of, or for cats to impress. He couldn't name exactly why he was constantly analyzing how others responded, but it might have something to do with his aversion to offending anyone. First impressions were important. Of course. Everyone knew that. But it went a little further than giving a semblance of caring, than pretending to be interested in whatever the topic of conversation was. Just . . . why make the world a worse place than it already was? There was enough betrayal and heartache out there without him adding to the mess.

Okay, then. Akira it was. He felt like he remembered something about a name change rumor being spread around, and while he didn't, couldn't, involve himself in the affairs of everyone in the Clan, a twinge of disappointment hit him when he realized he didn't already know about this. He should.

Luckily, she seemed to laugh off whatever associations to that name was, and Ivorywhisker smiled back in return. Thank StarClan there was no lasting insult. But maybe asking that follow-up question was a bit bold. The tips of her ears had turned pink for a moment, and the assistant deputy almost seemed . . . embarrassed for a moment.

Ah, curse it, he was making things worse. Ivorywhisker mentally smacked himself. Honestly, he should know by now to be careful with what he says. Everyone takes a response in an almost infinite number of different ways. He supposed he had been rather shocked to see a cat with him—the assistant deputy!—so that might explain why he'd blurted out the first thing that came to mind without weighing any of possible outcomes beforehand. He really shouldn't have been so impulsive.

She already seemed to be brushing it off, though, and that was a good thing. But he was still going to fix whatever accidental damage he might have caused.

With that same, easy-going smile, he said, "I'm grateful for the company." And, really, he was. She didn't even seem to mind that he'd been shirking his warrior duties for the past while. Of course, he might be wrong, and this might be some prolonged attempt at calling him out on it, but as the seconds ticked by, the possibility of that dwindled more and more, and he felt himself easing back into the relaxed state he liked to be in.

She had started staring off into the distance, just like he had been doing earlier. Oh. She's a thinker, isn't she? She was the one who had initiated conversation, so she obviously isn't opposed to talking, but from the way she's standing, she doesn't look like she's up for some passing-by small talk. And hadn't seemed to be looking for him when she ran into him, because if she had, she would have been more adamant about keeping conversation—and she isn't talking now. It almost sounded like she was sorry to have disturbed me and is trying to settle things.

He felt his smile change into a wry grin. Kinda like what he was doing.

But if that was the case, there was a good chance she wanted to be alone for a bit, and idle chatter would make it worse. He didn't want that.

Though . . . yeesh, this was taking a risk. He recognized that expression on her face. Part wistful, part longing, all distant. She either had something on her mind or was the most scatter-brained cat he knew--and Akira wasn't scatter-brained.

Leave her alone or talk? The safer choice was to leave her alone, of course; she'd probably been planning on being alone anyway. Yet, he had this sense, this intuition that she might company.

Very well, then. His instincts hadn't led him wrong before. And, besides, if she didn't want to talk, he wouldn't press her. Stretching his legs, he stood and gently padded next to her—but not too close—and stared off into the direction she was looking at: Nothing but the rest of BlizzardClan territory and the edge of the island."Sometimes I think we takes this view for granted," he began, keeping his gaze on the scenery in front of him and the view beyond. "The forest, the sun, everything. Almost seems like a shame we don't stop and stare more often."

There. Somewhat neutral conversation starter. Just enough to evoke a response but not enough to feel heavy-handed or forced.

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[font=georgia]Friendly bump for Spook here. Bump.

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See, this was the problem with introspective cats: They were hard to read.

Ivorywhisker kept his gaze trained on the distance, out to where the edge of the world lay, and surreptitiously watched her from the corner of his eye. Was that a . . . good reaction? So hard to tell with quiet cats like her. He always had to make an extra effort to try to understand their response. Subtle, subtle changes, always. Nothing like the chatty apprentices and ambitious warriors who wore their emotions plain on their face like they were trophies to show off. No, not cats like Akira. Like him. Sometimes he only got the barest hint of a signal, an almost unconscious twitch or adjustment to go off of. Not like —

Got it.

He mentally sighed in relief. Luckily, he got an easy response. That soft, little flutter of a smile was a fantastic sign. He'd seen smiles before, all kinds. The half-grimace, the painted, the wide, the show-off, the wall. It was easy to fake one, he knew. A smile could lead to a hundred different conclusions, which each led to thousands of possible answers. They could be so misleading.

But this one was a real one. He'd seen them crop up, almost involuntary, when small bouts of amusement came up or when a cat thought they had their back turned. These were the good signs. Small, but not faint — like a crack in a dam holding back sunshine. A fraction of its potential.

Yes, he could work with this. He knew —

And for the second time in that conversation, Akira caught him off guard. The words It's easy to get caught up in our own lives though, or even the lives of others. That's not necessarily a bad thing but... The lives of others. He had to force himself not to stiffen at the words, to keep his gaze from flicking to her and staring. He didn't . . . didn't get caught up in the lives of others did he? He kept watch, maybe. Made sure he didn't offend. Tried what he could to allow others to feel comfortable in his presence. But that didn't necessarily mean he got "caught up" in that, right? That wasn't. That. It wasn't.

No, no, you have to pay attention, he scolded himself. She isn't talking about you. He'd have time to think about that later. He quickly tuned back into the conversation, too aware of the unsettling feeling growing in his stomach and his vain attempts to ignore it.

Oh, she was a thinker indeed. The Clan needed them. And while he knew she was capable of holding deep conversations, he had the impression she wasn't accustomed to sharing those thoughts with others. StarClan above, was she embarrased again? He gently turned his head towards her, letting his gaze finally disconnect from the scenery to look at her. It was hard to tell. Goodness, Akira was good at this; he was only sensing those cracks of emotion, not the whole reservoir he knew lay hidden behind her impassive face. Her eyes had that distinct slightly-glazy look, the kind where she isn't exactly staring at something physical or zoning out — that blink-and-you-miss-it expression that comes when a cat has to take attention off herself by flitting her gaze between objects.

Still so hard to tell. A quick check-through told him that, yup, he was almost walking blind here. He'd already been staring for longer than what was appropriate for the situation, and he had to tear his gaze to the ground to avoid studying her any longer, despite still feeling far too shaky with his observation. Maybe embarrassment. And if not that, then something that was making her uncomfortable. Was it something he'd said? Well, no, he didn't think so. She'd responded well to his conversation starter, so he didn't believe it was that, unless she was having a delayed reaction as his words finally sunk in. Did he cause her to think about an unwanted memory by his word choice? It was possible, he supposed. But, again, her eyes hadn't had that dreamy look that comes when remembering the past; they were decidedly seeing the present but trying not to be.

But he had to react fast. The brief pause between the end of her words and him contemplating was a normal enough amount, and a response now would be perfectly suited. Well, he had to make some conclusion.

Oh, oh, he saw it. She had dropped eye contact earlier, a sign that she'd wanted to hide from his attention, the clearest sign he'd gotten to prove she felt like she'd slipped up.

He almost sighed out loud. Okay, okay, this time she felt like it was her bad, not that he'd offended her. Easily fixed. She might be uncomfortable with deeper conversations because of inexperience, and not because she doesn't understand. That means he should keep the level they're at, if not recede a bit. He had no doubt she could handle those long, philosophical topics that leave the participators still thinking many hours after the conversation ended, but maybe she didn't know. No need to push.

Don't let the silence drag on. Don't let the silence drag on.

A nod of agreement. "I knew a cat who said the same thing, once," he said with an easy-going and soft voice, careful not to disturb the calming air settling around them. "Said she wondered why cats like me stayed in Clans when we had a whole world to explore." He allowed a small smile to show up, not unlike Akira's earlier. "And she asked why I didn't just . . . run. Run and see where my paws would take me. Run to feel the wind on my face and grass blurring beneath me. Why I didn't run to leave everything behind." He smiled a hair wider, looking up to meet Akira's eyes. "You know what I said?" Pause for a moment. "I said, 'I've traveled before. I've seen caves that have no end and mountains that stretch up forever. I've seen blankets of snow cover lands that had been scorched by wildfires the day before. I've seen places that I couldn't imagine existed.' And I looked at her, really looked at her, and said, 'And I still haven't seen a place that rivals home.' She stared at me kinda strangely, like I'd said the most ridiculous thing in the world, before she stalked off, muttering under her breath."

Yeah. He remembered her. That loner he saw at the edge countless moons ago. Wonder where she went.

"Because that's what this is, isn't it? Home. It's crazy and full of annoying Clanmates at times, but it's home. And there's nowhere else, nowhere in those endless skies above or boundless ground below that's ever going to compete with it." Another grin. "Why else would we be here?"

A single thought, unbidden, answered him. Because we have nowhere else to go.

{Spookie, help me! I thought this was going to be a two paragraph response, and I accidentally capped 1000 words. Ahhh! Thank you for keeping the word count down to reasonable lengths instead of typing off like a mad man and creating essays that strain your eyes.
Also, I debated deleting that last line. It kinda breaks the flow of the story, but, ah, that's Ivorywhisker for you. Depressing in his own thoughts, encouraging of others'. Heh.}

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