meeting in a dream | sergei
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Fourtrees was one of the few areas controlled by the forest cats he felt free to visit these days. Ordinarily, he wasn't concerned with the thought of being caught by a border patrol or a group of hunters if he wandered into clan territory, but in his injured state he wasn't looking to take any unnecessary chances. Instead he'd taken the safe route, come to this place where cats of all backgrounds could pass through or gather as they pleased.
It was a fascinating place for someone with sharp eyes; from his place nestled in the crook of a massive tree's roots, the sun comfortably warming his bruised flank, he could see all sorts of cats coming and going. Thunder, Wind, Shadow, River, and Dark; their warriors, apprentices, healers, and leaders all came here to conduct their little stories. It was a place for terse negotiations of alliances and truces, as well as more shady business deals; where friends across borders rejoined to spend a rare day together; and most interestingly of all, it was where forbidden cross-clan love bloomed and burned. He'd seen it all, been enraptured watching these tales unfold. But that was all he'd been -- a watcher. No clan cats dared approach the scarred, gruff-voiced, half-sighted BloodClanner, whose presence so obnoxiously clashed with the surrounding, gentle wilderness. When Softsplash arrived, he paid her no mind -- and as he did for any forest cat, he expected the snowy-furred molly to do the same for him.
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✞ — Perhaps most would, yes. However, Curiosity always was a strong game changer, especially when it came to a molly that didn't know much of the other clans, a side from the basics. She was more so intrigued by this mysterious stranger, as his scent was unfamiliar to her. Shaking out her coat, she attempted to dispel her nerves. He seemed like a nice enough cat and didn't seem like he would attack her. Quietly padding up to the larger feline, she spoke up to get his attention. "U-Um! Hello! Lovely night, isn't it?" She inquired lightly. Her tail twitching lightly as she added something else. "My name is Softsplash, may I know yours?" She inquired curiously before freezing and stammering out a correction for her previous statement. "A-Ah, that was rude. I m-mean, I do want to know your name but I didn't mean to demand it. Uhm, if it's alright with you I mean.."
"Speech"
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All at once, he'd gone from spectator to participant in the never-ending saga of Fourtrees. He'd watched the soft-faced molly approach with mild curiosity, wondering what type of cat she was, to approach a fearsome stranger so boldly. It was respectable, to say the least. The dog teeth lining his right paw rapped rhythmically against the soft earth -- it was a favorite little trick of his to play on Clan cats, drawing their attention to the weaponry and awaiting their reaction. Although he really had no intent to cause harm, it was certainly amusing to see the weaker-willed warriors turn pale with fright at the implied threat.
But Softsplash was indefatigable, and he took in her timid greeting with a nod. What made such a sweet, polite lady interested in talking to a brute like him, he had no idea. But he was interested to see where this would go. "A lovely night indeed," he replied comfortably, stretching spindly limbs outward before relaxing back into his original position. "Don't apologize, it's perfectly all right to ask. Heh, what's a name if you never give it out?" He gestured to a patch of earth beside him in the crook of the tree, inviting this new face into his gnarled root lair for a chat. "It's Sergei. Yes, yes, I know, weird name." He adjusted himself, wincing as he shifted a bit of weight off his injured shoulder. "So then, where're you from, Softsplash? Clan-wise, that is."
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✞ — Face heating, at her embarrassing rambling, she was relieved when this stranger didn't take any offense. Flicking a pale ear, she focused her attention on him. Maneuvering to the gestured area, she settled down beside him. Taking in his name, she smiled before shaking her head. "I don't think it's weird at all! I think its quite charming and unique." She replied, offering him a gentle smile. The alabaster femme took a moment to rasp a small pink tongue over her pale paw. Shifting her focus back to him, she perked up at his inquiry. "Oh! I come from riverclan." She answered with a quiet hum. "Speaking of which.. I was wondering.. Are you a kittypet? Your scent is new to me and.." She trailed off, her light azure gaze pinned on the thick material around his neck. Her tail twitched as she spoke an additional thought out loud. "Isn't that uncomfortable..?" She murmured before squeaking in realization and hiding her muzzle in her paws.
"Speech"
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Charming and unique. My oh my. What an absolute angel she was to humor him, to pretend that his decisively weird name was not actually weird. But he did appreciate her kindness, tail-tip flicking happily at the compliment. "Honey-tongue," he accused playfully, nestling back into the root at his back as if he were on a throne of grass and bark. He found himself already quite enjoying the company of this timid she-cat. Her halting words and endearing self-corrections made him feel like someone special, a celebrity; his naturally eloquent manner of speaking dripping with ever-more languid charm as she stoked his ego.
"A kittypet? Why, I never!" He exclaimed, raising a paw to his chest in mock offense. "I should ask you if you're a fish, RiverClanner." He poked her with the end of his long, scruffy tail as he spoke, his sooty fur appearing choked with city grime when set against the snowy field of her immaculate white pelt. "Heh heh, only joking. I'm from BloodClan -- is that not terrifying?" A wide grin split his angled features. "That's why I've got this." He gestured to the threadbare collar around his neck. "Maybe its a little scratchy at times, but no one said being stylish was easy." He looked her up and down for a moment, curiously. "... So, RiverClan, huh? You must be a good swimmer. Y'know, I've almost drowned anytime I've gone near more water than a puddle." He added the last statement with a look of confidence, as if his inability was somehow an accomplishment.
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