Testing the Rose [Roseclaw; Closed]

[Greymuzzles]

With the deputy problem corrected, Ashstar was again free to focus on other matters – and his eye began to fall more frequently upon the clan’s kits. He had paid them only passing attention in recent moons, absorbed as he was in other concerns, but their antics were such that they swiftly became difficult for an at-ease mind to ignore. They were mainly Birds at present—a fact that might otherwise have had him turning away in disinterest or scorn—but the few Boars amongst them were boisterous enough to hold his eye and form. In them was the future, he knew, and as he observed them from his favourite sun-spot—a little patch close to the Split Oak; permitted only to those of favour or rank—he find his mind drifting towards earlier, half-distant thoughts.

In the latter moons of his deputyship, he recalled, he had begun to think on matters of kin and blood. They had been thoughts only half-considered and not all pursued—other than a closer observation of the clan’s she-cats—and they had immediately been banished on the emergence of the Rogues…but now they had room to return. And this time he faced them fully, aware that a decision was being laid before his paws.

Did he scorn it, contenting himself with simple leadership…or did he set out to take the world?

It was a stupid question. He was the last of the finest line—his father’s only kitten—and that meant it was up to him to ensure that that blood was preserved. More importantly, he had a certain duty to ensure that his clan stayed strong—and his blood would make it strong—and thus to see its future secured. He would not be a leader who would fade into obscurity, leaving nothing behind at the end of his time, and kits…well, they guaranteed that one had a legacy to their name. Thus the decision was obvious: neatly backed by the clan’s wellbeing as well as his own secret aims.

It also set a second choice at his paws, and that one was not so easily made. If he was to have kittens then he would need a mate—a cat strong and loyal, who would stand firm at his side—and that was a decision that would need a little time and a certain care. It was even more important in its way than had been the choice of replacement-deputy, but it came with an advantage not normally associated with such problems: he was the clan’s the hero. He had his pick.

The realisation pleased him, but it did not encourage him to overtness or haste. This was a delicate, important matter, after all, and so Ashstar kept his intent quiet and merely began to spend a little more time with the most suitable she’s subtly parcelling out his attention—never more than appropriate for a leader—amongst those who had already caught his eye. One of them, he was sure, would be the fit he needed – and it was so very, very easy to make their duties coincide.

Another advantage of being leader, he knew. An advantage he put to good use – when needed.

But the problem with subtly and caution, of course, was that it took time, and so it was some days before he’d worked his way to the end of his small list of first-time trials. He didn’t want to rouse suspicion or gossip, after all, and so even with authority on his side he relied often on natural, unremarkable opportunity – which was perhaps why a certain tortoiseshell Boar was the last little trial of them all. Opportunity never quite seemed to arise for her form, and so at last he simply took the matter wholly into his own two paws.

“Roseclaw.” He approached her as dusk began to creep upon the world, confident that he would not be foiled; talking as a leader and nothing more. “I am taking the southern patrol tonight. Would you care to join me?” It was the safest of all their patrols, despite the superstition surrounding the Dark Forest, and so a two-cat patrol was very much the norm. He knew that as well as any Boar. And that was why it was the perfect choice.

[kiwi]

A Budding Rose

---

Roses, like most plants, lived and died in stages. For every Rose in bloom, there was a budding Rose, waiting for the opportunity to unfurl it's petals and show the world it's beauty and grace. A Rose that bloomed too soon might wither away and die before it's beauty could be appreciated. A Rose that bloomed too late would be outshone by it's larger counterparts. A Rose that bloomed at just the right time, not too soon and not too quick, would prove itself to be perfect. To be the ideal. All Roses, however, would eventually wilt and wither away, and if there was no one to appreciate them, they would wither and die away with not a single cat around to appreciate them.

For this Rose, she knew all too well that she was just in her budding stage; however, the time for blooming was dwindling, and this she felt in her heart as she watched the tom of her affections come and go with various she-cats from around the Clan. Flickers of dark thoughts danced behind her gaze as she took notice of their off and on comings and goings. However, her Thorns would not be for those who did not need them. She didn't feel the need to bloody her claws if she didn't feel particularly threatened. Still, she took note in who Ashstar chose to visit, mentally keeping tally on what those she's had against her.

All he chose were Boars, and none had any particular trend of how they looked. All were considered upstanding members of the Clan; fiercely loyal to TreeClan, only had nice things to say to Ashstar, and a relatively good track record. All cats one would expect a Clan hero like Ashstar to take a passing interest in.

But that is all she hoped they would be; passing interests. Nothing more. Her claim to power rested on ensuring she could at the very least get in this tom's good books, but a direct approach would be far too bold. No, she could not simply saunter up to the tom. He had his collection of Boars he held close. He had his new Deputy, a nonthreatening tom who would serve her absolutely no purpose in securing more power for herself or her bloodline. Nor would she attempt getting cozy with the tom's inner circle of Boars; those cats were far too busy falling over themselves to serve rather than gain any form of power.

The final step in her bloodline would have to be one of power, and to secure her bloodline with evidence of leadership. She was not so foolish as to believe she might see leadership herself in this lifetime; she wouldn't. If she wanted to Bloom, she would have to share her garden with another. These thoughts swirled around in her mind as days went by, listening to idle chatter in her ear as she watched their leader, quietly keeping her amber eyes resting upon him.

However, patience was a Virtue, and it turned out to be her own. The tom seemed to take some matters into his own paws as she found him approaching her. The camp was starting to cool down as dusk was rising in the sky to greet them. As Ashstar approached her, Roseclaw pricked her ears up, flicking her tail lightly in a polite greeting as she rose to her paws, wanting to give the tom her full respect and attention.

“I am taking the southern patrol tonight. Would you care to join me?”

The request could not have been more welcomed by the she-cat, at least internally. Finally, a chance to talk with the tom one on one. She knew she may not have this opportunity again, so, whatever she said to him on this patrol, she would have to make it count. Whatever this tom was looking for, she had to be absolutely certain that she showed him he was it.

She had to, for the sake of her positon in this world.

"It would be an honor, Ashstar~" She greeted him eagerly, lightly curling her tail. Only slightly; not too eager, now, of course, but she wanted him to know that she was certainly pleased at being invited. It was quite an honor to have such an important cat invite her to a patrol, one-on-one nonetheless. She had to choose her words, her actions, heck, her tone had to be perfect. "Please, if you're ready then, lead the way."

Behind those orange eyes, her mind was swimming. Scheming. Thinking on what to say, what to do, and when. Her puffy orange tail stayed lightly curled, swaying slightly in the wind as she waited to play follow the leader.

[Greymuzzles]

Ashstar’s outwards manner was casual—nothing more than a leader picking out his patrol—but he was watching with a care that quite contradicted that same easy tone. A lot could be gleaned from the smallest of signals, he knew, and he was determined to spot every tiny clue. But really, for him, that was nothing new.

The tom had always been observant. He was known for it. And his observation quickly paid off, making it oh-so-easy for him to see that this little tester was already going in a positive way. The first cue was obvious, of course—no one could misunderstand that quick rise to paws; the silent greeting accompanying it—but it was joined by a signal far subtler, and of much greater import. It was in her tone and in her tail: a subtle statement that her words and stand were not simple respect, but rather genuine pleasure at the invitation – and perhaps just a touch of eagerness, too. He could not be so sure about the last, of course—not with it being so subtle—but either way it was a start with which any cat could wholly approve.

The question was: would that approval remain?

There was only one way to know.

“A good Boar is always ready, Roseclaw,” he stated mildly, turning even as he spoke. It was a simple, often-ignored mantra, but Ashstar knew the truth of it – and he knew its place in this context, too. He was ready to judge her at each key moment and turn: ready to begin evaluating whether she would be amongst those few to continue to pursue. He was ready to spot the flaws and the cracks that might emerge: ready to strike her from his options should he dislike what he saw. He was ready…but she would be the one to determine his course.

[kiwi]

There are some cats that might be annoyed at the subtle correction that Ashstar proposed. However, Roseclaw was not one of those cats. The tom could speak whatever he'd like and she'd still give him the same, Clan-crafted dip of the head, acknowledging his words and giving him proper respect as she padded after him.

"Agreed, Ashstar." Her voice lightly curled and deepened into a faint purr at the mention of his name. Roseclaw was a she-cat that wasn't going to play soft with the spotlight now on her. If this was the only evening she had with the tom, then she had to make everything count, including the subtle flirts in her voice. It was just that, though; subtle. She would not go so hard or bold to him, not here. Not now. There was a chase involved in this sort of thing; it only mattered that those being chased thought they were the ones chasing.

Bounding after him, and out of the Clan's walls, Roseclaw felt the coolness of the air settle into her pelt. In her mind, she was swirling and scheming and painting a picture. A pretty, pretty picture of a pretty she-cat with a perfect repertoire. Her orange eyes gleamed and sparkled, something that could easily be passed off as just excitement. After all, she was at least a little genuinely excited to be padding along onto a patrol with her leader. It was an honor in itself. However, far more exceeding that excitement was her eagerness to advance, to finally Bloom.

To Bloom and dance in the wind, a Petal must be willing to twist and bend; it must be willing to accommodate that which gets thrown at it. But it must also bring it's sweet scent along with it, to remind those why it is called a Rose and nothing lesser. Though she wanted to say something, to raise her voice and give him some light discussion, instead she chose nothing. She decided to let him take the lead, if only so she could also further read this tom. She must be able to read him carefully, to choose what she had to say. However, she did give him a light verbal cue that a conversation was open. As a breeze rolled by, she let out a relaxed sigh, though she looked as alert as ever.

(( Sorry for little dialogue this time around! me and my muse could not for the life of us come up with dialogue that would be fitting here. )) 

[Greymuzzles]

The first test had been in his call and approach; had revolved around the greeting she chose to turn his way. The second was tucked into that simple little mantra, and he was ready to grade her even as he walked away. That correction was, technically, something better aimed at an apprentice, and he knew that it could so very easily be taken the wrong way. But that was the point. His choice needed to be reasonably level-headed—capable of reading a tone rather than assuming an insult—and if she threw a fit then it would be clear that she was not at all the right frame.

To his quiet satisfaction, she did not. In fact her response was firmly in the positive, sending a trickle of surprise through his frame. Her agreement had been easy and light—not at all forced as one might have expected—and he could almost have sworn that there had been some extra little lilt curled within her use of his name. He wasn’t sure what to make of that—a fact perhaps betrayed by the curious backwards tilt of his ear; the quick glance he cast her way—but he had to admit that it placed her well within these earliest stages of his secret serious game. It was certainly another pass, even if the tone had him a little…puzzled.

Still, there was plenty of time to work it out, and it wouldn’t do at all to appear too curious whilst they remained within reach of so many eyes.

It was awareness of that very fact that had him relegated to nothing more than that glance and tilt of ear: that made it seem as if he were simply dismissing the response outright, rather than mulling upon it within the safety of his own mind. It lingered, however, retaining some sway even after they were out of bounds of the camp: occupying his thoughts for a good while. But not for overlong. They had, in truth, passed only a small distance into the territory when he dismissed the oddity in full, deciding that there were far better things to fill his mind. The signals given out by the rest of the world, for instance. His counterpart’s quiet contented sigh…

Curious, how one small sound could communicate so much. That one, for instance, said not only that the she-cat was in a good mood but that she was relaxed – and he cast a look back over his should in answer to that very fact. There might be some ulterior motives hiding within this outing, but it was still a patrol – and he would not tolerate inattentiveness in any of his Boars. A warrior who did not pay attention could miss something critical, after all, and he would not see any of the mistakes allowed by Thistlestar to mar his own rule. He would not have enemies surprise his clan a second time.

But as it turned out, he hardly needed worry at all

The moment his eyes settled on Rosethorn they spotted the signs of a warriors appropriately alert, and that was more than enough to satisfy his concerns. She could be as relaxed as she wanted so long as she didn’t miss anything of import – and in fact it was, perhaps, better if she was more at ease. He had a greater chance of getting a read on her if that were the case, so though there had been a momentary sharpness to his look Ashstar was quick to blink that same sharpness away; to let approval, instead, rise up to fill his gaze.

‘Nothing wrong with being relaxed—as long as you keep watch,’ that look said. ‘Perhaps you might yet impress,’ too…

He turned his eyes back to the forest a beat after the unspoken messages had been conveyed; let the details of their home fall back beneath his gaze. Idly he watched for something out of place, but his very manner stated that he did not truly worry that trouble might come to mar the last of this day. All was quiet, and though he looked for inconsistencies he walked with the unconscious swagger of one who owned everything surveyed: knew that trouble would keep far, far away. He even flicked his tail at the she se-cat padding in his wake, curling it just so to invite her to his side: a signal he’d not even consider if he thought there might be real danger to find. A staggered patrol was that little harder to ensnare, after all…but it also made conversation harder to involve.

Ooc:
<_< I see your 'little dialogue' and raise you none at all!
In all seriousness though, there's no need to apologise for limited/lack of speech--some posts just don't lend themselves to chatter so well.

[kiwi]

The tortoiseshell she-cat's amber eyes brimmed with confidence in the presence of her leader, and she did well to carefully watch the careful cues that his body language gave her. A slight glance and a tilt of his ear gave away to her all too many ideas as to what might be on his mind. She wondered, briefly, what he might have thought of the subtle purr curling the gentle petals of her voice. Even if he looked away just as quick, dismissing her words, Roseclaw felt anything but dismissed.



As her counterpart looked back at her, she met his gaze with a cool,steady confidence. Not one of defiance, however. It was merely a calm, friendly response to his gaze. His features that stared sharply at her changed, and what she found instead filled her with pride. Approval. Perhaps, finally, a Rose like her would finally be appreciated for what it was. She gave him a respectful nod, letting her tail swish lightly behind her in the cool air.



Still, the she-cat had nothing to worry about in the presence of Ashstar, and between the both of them she duly felt that the pair could handle anything. Judging by the swagger of her counterpart, there would be no trouble today. Should there be, she had no doubt in her mind that the impressive Boar would take care of trouble in a moment's notice. Though she kept her senses about her, ears primed to listen for anything approaching, her focus continued to remain on the ashen one.



And then - an invitation. A slight curl calmly beckoning her to her leader's side - one she took eagerly. Though not so eagerly she looked to act like a foolish apprentice paws-over-tail. Rather, the eagerness came within, and her quickness to join his side could be chalked up to the respectful gaze given to him as she strode to accompany him. A gaze that read, 'I know it is an honor to walk alongside you,' with a hint of gratitude for such honors. While Roseclaw certainly thought very highly of herself, credit was always due where it was due. She wouldn't grovel at his paws; but she would certainly be the first to offer prey should it earn her something.



"Is there something on your mind this evening, Ashstar?" She inquired, her tone pleasant and calm. She kept her tone steady, wanting to come across as one who was politely, yet friendlily, interested in what he had to say. She didn't say anything more, however, wanting her question to fall as it stood. She need not follow up with an explanation of her inquiry; if he didn't like her question, he could answer and she'd respond in kind. While his own thoughts, feelings and worries might be a mystery to her now, she did feel confident that she could handle whatever the tom threw at her.

[Greymuzzles]

Ooc: Sorry if this post is a little disjointed/hard to work with (and also for the delay). Muse isn't playing too well for Ashstar at the moment :/

Bic:
That tiny subtle gesture was answered quickly, and therein lay further conformation that the she-cat was paying proper attention, even if relaxation was coiled about her frame. That final confirmation chased any lingering doubts of that fact firmly away, but there was to her response even than that to be gained. There was information to be found even within the speed of her approach, and he dug those cues out dutifully; inspecting them just as closely as he had the moments that had come before. Was it too speedy; too ingratiating; signal of a feline too keen to suck up to his form? No – and that was good, for though a partner who was eager to please might in the short term seem good, he was wise enough to guess that the appeal wouldn’t long remain. The constant vying for his approval was all very well from some quarters, but he couldn’t deny that it could be tiresome, at times – and if his kits were to be of worth then their chosen mother must have some ability to stand on her own two paws.

He didn’t want another minion; another groveler; someone too frail of mind to handle the world on their own. Such cats were weak, and he’d not bring weakness into his line; not have himself so shamed by the she-cat he ultimately chose to set at his side.

But Roseclaw, at least, seemed to know her own mind. He spied that much in the look she set on his form as she fell into step next to him, and it was another mark in her favour: a new reason for approval to flicker briefly through his eyes.

‘Is there something on your mind this evening, Ashstar?’

“I have the clan to guide – there is always something on my mind.” The words were half-unguarded – and yet at the same time not. There was a fall to them that might suggest an almost out-of-place confidence offered, but in truth he was fully aware of what he had uttered and of the possible response. At the same time, too, they gave little of importance away, for he was the clan leader and as such the fact he had uttered should be plain.

[kiwi]

(( Not to worry! Same apologies then to you as well, if Rose is a bit wonky I apologize! Me and her are trying hard to say the right things :'3 ))

The she-cat didn't care much for cat and mouse games. Such things were reserved for the other Branch after all; while she could hunt, it was far more fun to just reach out and take the things she wanted with her own two claws. However, she couldn't quite be so brash with these Ashes in the Wind, as claws could not catch those things. Instead, she'd have to wait for them to fall on her petals. Still, she could nudge the winds in her direction. Hopefully.

"And what is on your mind tonight, then?" She hummed, a slight hum of impatience - no, perhaps insistence, in her voice? She did well to keep any annoyance in her voice. And yet, she didn't want the tom to just keep all of his secrets hidden away in his mind. She wouldn't have asked the question in the first place had she wanted him to just string her along with an 'there is always something on my mind'. She knew that, and perhaps the words did strike an annoyed chord in her.

However, that annoyance was gone almost as quick as it'd come, and she smoothed herself down once more, replacing it instead with something of mild curiosity. She didn't want him to think she was the entire center of his attention; she wasn't just there to grovel at his paws. This was equally about her as it was him, after all; he was just a stepping stone to her true plans. Letting her tail wave lazily as she waited for a response, she glanced about the both of them, taking in the sights and looking alert to anything that might come their way. For now, it was a calm night, but she could just as easily reason that, well, one never knows.

"You have nothing more than the wind and a Rose to listen, after all." A slight laugh escaped her at that, and she glanced back up at him at that. "And from what I hear, I'm a great listener." Her tone was playful, friendly, and a bit lighter than when she'd first started talking to him.

[Greymuzzles]

Ooc: No problemo~ Can't blame you and her for wanting to get things right first time--especially since I'm not so sure whether Ash will give second chances with this...

Bic:
‘And what is on your mind tonight, then?’

The leader tilted his head a fraction at those words, eyeing the she-cat for a short silent moment before he turned his gaze fully forwards once more. He was a little surprised by the question, for he knew well enough that there were plenty who would have seen his evasion and let the matter drop, but even so there was neither annoyance nor chastisement within that brief gaze. No; the look had been appraising—speculative, even—and his turn away had been accompanied by the barest curl of his tail: a whisper of unspoken approval.

Roseclaw appeared to know her own mind – and at the same time to know her place.

She had told him both with that one simple phrase, for in pushing, even to that small degree, she told him clearly that she was not some mouse who would be batted instantly and meekly back into the leaves. And in pressing with that tone she had warned him, too, of a certain strength of will…even as her politeness, her quick return to calm, murmured that she understood the respect he was due. It was a fine hard balance to attain, and though it was but a hint, a taste, a trace, it nevertheless inched her a few steps further in his silently judged and secret race. But some roses rested on flimsy stems, he knew—some tempers were held on a cobweb—and so he wondered if it were but a fluke: If patience or respect or will might crumble at another jab of an evasive claw…

A game was set right as his paws, and he wouldn’t be him if he didn’t play it.

‘I’m a great listener.’

“Is that so?” The ashen leader paused a moment as an errant crackle snagged at his ears: made a point of studying the undergrowth, apparently disinterested in the she-cat at his side. The game was at his paws, and so his words had come half-distant and all polite: the response of a leader observing the niceties and no more. Then he tilted his head again, catching her in the corner of a glinting encouraging eye as his paws bore him on once more.

“Should a leader share his mind simply because you can listen?”

[kiwi]

The leader was mostly as silent as ever; he always was. The tom had always appeared to be one who was constantly mulling about in his thoughts. Roseclaw could certainly spot another cat who was plotting something when she saw them. They were two thorns cut from the same branch, after all. The only difference is that he had the power, and she was still climbing. This was still her life's early newleaf, though, and she had plenty of time to blossom and grow before greenleaf fully hit. Even still, newleaf's warming rays of sunlight fell upon her face as she saw the hints of approval curling in the tom's features. Good. Good. She took a silent, but deep breath, knowing that she was on the right track and feeling proud for it.

'Is that so?'
The tom's attention was off her this time, but she was still glowing from the slight approval. He was certainly a tough prey to track, but he wouldn't be so elusive to her now. They were far too off and away from camp, and she was insistent on catching her own quarry. To Bloom. She wouldn't let the opportunity slip out of her claws, not when she'd come so far. Her desire to become the Rose she well and truly knew herself to be would keep her on the right track.

'Should a leader share his mind simply because you can listen?'
A lesser cat might bristle at those words, or perhaps even get angry. She knew all too well that the hot tempers of many a Boar could have sent their attitudes flying at the very least. Even though Ashstar's word was indeed law around here, it would be foolish to presume that a cat wouldn't get snippy with him, or even upset with how he was playing these games. Those were... lesser Boars, and while there was initial annoyance with his continued insistence at playing foolish games, Roseclaw knew better than to act on lesser emotions. However, she did have to ponder her answer for a moment, and she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of an instant answer.

"Hm." Roseclaw remarked instead, letting her unspoken pondering fill the air as she too cast her glance away from him in a moment. He was not the center of her world; a stepping stone was all he was to her. She listened to the crickets chirp for a moment, her eyes off in the distance as she pondered on just what to say to him. To her, he should share his mind because she was the only cat that was worthy of listening to what he had to say. That.... limp, shaky and weasel-like mess of a Bird he called his Deputy could hardly be trusted to take up the tasks necessary to lead the Clan let alone listen to the thoughts of Ashstar. She couldn't seriously imagine the leader telling Crowfall anything of anything except cleaning his bed.

Both Roseclaw and Ashstar were of the same cloth, however; they were both Boars. Decent ones, at that. Levelheaded, active, ambitious. Not too hot-tempered, not quick to scuffle over tiny things. And this indeed was a tiny thing to have a scuffle over, wasn't it?

She took her sweet time as she decided to come up with words, letting him wait on her. She was not a Rose dangling on a flimsy stem; she would have to be quite firmly cut if he wanted to get her. This was as much her game as it was his, though she knew not what game he was playing, or even that he was playing a game. No, she only knew that this was a game to her, a dance in which there was a winner.

"Was there something in the bushes?" She inquired, deciding to completely change the topic. There was no correct answer to his inquiry, and since he hadn't commanded her to answer she felt no reason to. She swiveled her gaze back to him, looking apparently neutral after all of this. Perhaps she had just lost his question in her mind? Or perhaps she chose it not worth her time to answer? Whatever the case, the question remained unanswered and she'd replaced it with her own. "A stray mouse or something bigger?"

[Greymuzzles]

It was a game, oh yes, and the question was calculated: meant to put her to the test. Ashstar was no fool, and he knew from long seasons of observation that his clan was rife with those who might find their patience snapped and their temper bared by such offhanded evasion: that many a cat, if faced with such distance, might twist at once into the guise of a slighted sulking kit. He’d seen it happen time and again even amongst the clan’s prized Boars, and though those types were certainly good for entertainment, they were not suited for the role he now sought to fill. His mate, once chosen, was a cat he must tolerate to the end of his days, for he would not fall to the disloyalty his own mother had displayed. His mate, therefore, must not be a cat who would only irritate him once these games had been played…just as she could not be a cat by whom he would, in the end, be shamed.

Those facts remained at the forefront even as he allowed himself to play, and he had to admit…Roseclaw was again doing well at ushering some of the connected concerns away. It was true that silence came on the tail of his words, and that might be a problem, but what counted more, for now, was that she didn’t bridle when the dismissal came. That was what he had been waiting for and half expecting: a flash of temper at the jabbing claw that was his simple refusal to give her more. What he got instead was that simple silence, and then a quiet hum that twitched his ear, focusing him on her just a fraction more.

She was thinking, not snapping. She was using her brain, and not just letting indignance or aggression rush to the fore.

Hm.

“…A rabbit, perhaps,” He tugged his gaze from her as he gave the answer, his tone tinged with the barest hint of curiosity; another quiet flicker of approval. He didn’t want to be burdened with some melodramatic she, nor one with temper or ego as fragile as the ice films leafbare sometimes brought to the rivers, but a cat who stopped to think – well, that was a different matter. And so too was this cat: a warrior who had so easily and casually changed the subject, allowing the first to be trampled underpaw. That was something to catch his interest, but with that interest came a new question: was this deliberate, or mere forgetfulness? Was the cat beside him answering his game with one of her own, or were her thoughts merely tossed as easily as leaves by a breeze?

“It’s a fine evening, don’t you think?” He cast the words out with conscious abruptness, wondering how she would respond; seeking to determine whether her mind were agile, or simply distractible.

[kiwi]

To Roseclaw, her little game had just seen it's first small victory. She had responded to him in her own way; not allowed him to entirely continue leading the conversation at his own whim. She wasn't quite yet keen on entirely leading the conversation; it was much more fun to mirror, but it was also fun to play; to poke and jab to find the weak points and to have a bit of fun. Like chasing a rabbit; the thrill of the chase was as satisfying as the feast that followed. Perhaps even a little bit more. Still, she was prepared to calculate this entire endeavor; as much as she could, anyway.

Roseclaw watched as he moved his gaze from her to the brush, following through with her inquiry to investigate. She listened to the way his tone seemed to prickle with something; curiosity perhaps? Her game, it would appear, had caught the tom's interest, and it was something she was even more thrilled to experience. A rush of heat flared through her body as adrenaline filled her. The chase was afoot, and the rabbit in the brush had made itself known to her.

'It's a fine evening, don't you think?' The question was placed in the air in the same manner she had placed her own; a deliberate topic change, no doubt. This didn't upset her; she wasn't so young and immature to think that him changing the subject was a slight on her. No, no, there were finer details to play about here, and her claws were prickling to play the game; to bat with the mouse before the kill. There were also other, finer implications at those particular words the tom chose to use. A fine evening indeed; honeyed words that, no doubt, could have been used to woo a she-cat. Romance. A detail she was yet to determine if he was even using or not.

And still, how she answered was important. She did not wish for him to think that she was just going to let him bat the conversation around like a mouse; this was her toy, not his, and it was important that she choose how to let him play. She thought about it, though not for too long; a pause was heard as he cast the question out and she thought. Then, she was speaking, flicking her tail.

"Indeed it is, Ashstar. A fine evening indeed." She purred, padding just the slightest bit closer, for a moment, letting the air between them warm as she met his gaze. It was only for a moment, however, as she moved her gaze beyond him, back into the bush. "A fine evening to ignore a nice catch? I expect you've eaten recently, then." Back to casual conversation, something the both they could enjoy, but she made a point of weaving his introduction to the conversation back into her own. Not entirely leading, but not entirely letting him sway either. She was not an airhead, and she would not let him move about the conversation without her say.

[Greymuzzles]

A pause – and then an agreement; purring words that might indeed paint her as one easily led and easily distracted. Had she behaved a little differently through the previous moments then Ashstar might have accepted that assessment outright and struck her from his options there and then…but there was something that made him hesitant to write her off so quickly. She had responded well, so far, passing his little tests more readily than others he had tried, and so he was more willing to give her the benefit of the doubt—

To hold her gaze as she narrowed the gap between them, her sudden movement pricking his ears with mingled curiosity and surprise. Her approach complimented his own comment nicely, hinting at flicker of half-intentional flirtation, but more than that it spoke of confidence and courage, for here was a fragment of risk he would not have expected from any form. Then she looked away, apparently refocusing on the unseen prey, and if anything that only enhanced the draw he was beginning to find within her frame.

This conversation was not entirely his: her thoughts were not as scattered as windblown leaves. No: this cat was capable of holding her words and weaving them through his; layering their talk in a manner that others, he knew, would not so easily achieve. It was yet another point in her favour, and there and then he decided to linger where he stood, allowing his failure to draw away inform her that she was, for now, welcome where she was. Let her cross the normal line between leader and warrior. Let him see whether she would notice: how she would respond.

“Recently enough to last through a patrol,” he turned his eyes from her again, unwilling to let his interest shine too plain: padding a few steps onwards as he let the casual conversation wind between them as before. This must be a careful test and a subtle game, for now. She was not the only cat he was considering. “I’m sure there will plenty of fresh-kill to choose from when we return…if you can wait.”

[kiwi]

Their gazes met as she shifted, and a twinge of pride flickered through her frame. What she'd done had surely caught his attention, and Roseclaw was very pleased to find out this particular detail. She took note of his pricking ears, of his allowance to let her linger in his space. And he, in turn, lingered in hers, solidifying the fact that Roseclaw was indeed allowed to remain. Her eyes studied the underbrush for a moment, the scratching of the prey being heard only for a moment before it eventually scurried off to it's burrow.

With a dismissive flick of her ear, Roseclaw took her gaze back to him, just in time to watch him shift his gaze off of her. With that, they were moving again, and the air they once shared was gone. However, that space they shared had not been in vain, and the weight of it happening could easily be felt with minimal pondering on it on Roseclaw's part. He hadn't moved away, even with the flirtation that she'd weaved in. He'd allowed her to stay, and that said a lot to Roseclaw. A lot, indeed. Her quarry was growing closer to her claws. The Rose was surely getting ready to Bloom.

Her words to use next had to be carefully picked, this was easy for her to know. She easily followed him, padding after to walk side by side as they continued through their path. She would not walk behind him, as she'd already decided, as this was a walk between two potential equals. She was a Boar, after all; the two were akin in many ways. Still, she listened to his words, carefully pondering just how she wanted to respond in kind. She didn't take long to consider, however. She did not want to appear as scheming; only deliberate with her words as someone who thinks well about what she wants to say.

'If you can wait,' She knew it was a gentle jab, a way to get the upper hand in a conversation once more. However, she would refuse to let it get under her skin; this was minuscule! A tiny flea off an elder's back. Instead, she laughed, letting the soft, tinkling noise float off into the gentle night breeze.

"You say this as if I'm starving, Ashstar." Her whiskers twitched with amusement. "I too, ate before we went. While we are Boars, I thought a little hunt might be fun. Does everything have to be serious talks and somber conversations as we stroll through the woods?" She pointed out, keeping her tone light. "There's quite a bit of fun in a little chase." That, as well, was true.

[Greymuzzles]

Ooc: Another kind of ramblish one because of tiredness, but hopefully you can work with this!

Bic:
He measured his steps carefully, in no hurry to re-open the space between them, nor in truth to properly reclaim the lead. It would serve him no purpose to reclaim distance now, in the midst of this careful game, for proximity alone had a great deal to say. In keeping her beside him he hinted, relatively plainly, at his interest – but shifting away from her would state that she was just like any other: merely one more warrior that happened to be in the shadow of his frame. If she failed his test, then he would cast her away, but for now he was content to let her remain.

And she needed no coaxing. Roseclaw padded on at his side without any further hint or cue, enhancing her standing with that single simple move. Here was a she-cat who was confident enough to hold to an honour even when it was not reaffirmed; a warrior smart enough to see that her right to it, for now, still remained. He’d not told her otherwise, after all…and it was pleasant, for once, to be accompanied by someone who could see that on their own.

It was pleasant, too, to find his tease answered by amusement rather than the denial or temper so common amongst other forms.

Ashstar would be the first to admit, to himself, that he found those other sharper reactions entertaining at times, but even so he purred briefly at the laughter that greeted his words, allowing himself to enjoy this opposite turn. Humour was a better response in this context, after all: and for now he had reason to be encouraging; to keep the lightness between their two forms.

“Indeed there is,” his agreement was easy and honest: perhaps unusually sincere. Though he hid it well, Ashstar would always enjoy toying with the little mice that filled his clan, and he knew well how much entertainment could be gained from the hunt; from the chase. Though he, naturally, tended to play in much quieter ways. “But can you blame me for thinking you hungry, Roseclaw? You seemed very interested in that little rabbit.”

This another gentle jab; a tease tossed out for the sake of it as much as to see how she might respond.