looks like rain (tango)

[TANGO]

There was no avoiding it now. The sky was about to open up any minute and drench the both of them, herbs and all. Thunder rumbled in the distance, although Mousedapple had missed the flash of lightning that must have preceded it. Here, a drop landed between her ears, and there, some seconds later, another between her tail. Oh mouse dung, she thought in despair as she remembered again why she had been so hesitant to help Cinderfoot. Her coat, for sure, would be ruined, and StarClan help her if the dashing gray tom saw her like that! She would be mortified, oh just absolutely mortified.

She noticed that the tom hissed in the direction of the sky, and she rolled her eyes. How could he be angry at the rain? She knew Cinderfoot well enough to know that he could certainly be angry at just about anything, but surely not the rain! It had been his idea to stay out here until it was too late to seek shelter! She had warned him that the rain would ruin their fur and the herbs, but she bit her tongue to stop herself from pointing that out. She'd rather not risk the tom's sharp tongue, so she'd settle for simply knowing that she had been right all along.

His sudden growl made her ears flattened at the unexpected cantankerousness. The ruffian! She hated the tone he used with her sometimes. He so moody, it was no wonder he hardly had any close friends. One second charming, the next brusque. She just wished he'd put his guard down for more than one short moment, but it seemed impossible for him not be on the defensive.

"I had no choice, really. In order to keep my life, I had to give it up." What did that mean? He couldn't have been more cryptic if he had been delivering a message from StarClan. The urge to ask him for clarification was overwhelming, but she suppressed it. As her tail was still in a bunch from his rude growls, she figured it would simply be a waste of her time. Clearly, he didn't wish to be understood.

It certainly didn't help loosen her tongue when he pushed the goldenrod on her with a curt command, and she had to remind herself not to snap at Cinderfoot. Her mother had always told her that a cat caught more rabbits with purrs than with growls. Clearly, no one had ever passed that information on to Cinderfoot, but just because he acted like a brute didn't mean she needed to. "If these herbs get soaked..."

"Darling, you don't need to tell me about the detrimental effect of rain," she purred. She had already told him about it, hadn't she? But gloating was so unbecoming... Instead, she set to work gathering up the goldenrod. "Mousedapple is at your service!" she mewed brightly. For StarClan's sake, they needed some ray of sunshine on this abysmal day, and apparently she would be it. She gently grabbed the goldenrod stems in her mouth and turned her eyes toward Cinderfoot, silently wondering if they could begin to head back to camp.

[gray]

He realized that he had forgotten all about his little game in his moment of shock at Mousedapple’s question. He berated himself mentally for letting himself be surprised in such a way—he was Cinderfoot, the unshakably furious warrior with a tongue as sharp as his claws. He had focus; he had a mission. It really was too bad he would never realize how his temper ruled him completely. His temper dictated every action he performed, and whether it was a natural hot streak or something pressed into his being by Fireflower, no one would ever know. Now, he was also furious that he had answered the question he needed the one time it had ever been asked with such a cryptic response, especially since the asker was someone as simple-minded as Mousedapple. She was pretty, and that was about all she was good for. Oh, and don’t forget carrying herbs, the gray medicine cat apprentice reminded himself with grim humor. “Darling, you don't need to tell me about the detrimental effect of rain,”

[/I] she responded. Hmm, nice word, detrimental—harmful, damaging, destructive; it was a word that appealed to Cinderfoot. Of course, the fact that he hadn’t expected a word like that from Mousedapple had helped it stand out. “Mousedapple is at your service!”[/I] The suddenly cheery tone of voice was a welcome change to the subtle whine he usually heard from the tortoiseshell.

She picked up the goldenrod, leaving Cinderfoot free to take up the borage. He smirked, knowing the impact his next words would have on the she-cat. She would be easy to get where he wanted and she would be such fun all the while he played her like the moss the kits batted around in the nursery. “You know, you have quite the detrimental effect on my concentration,” he said as he shuffled his paws in the pretense of rearranging the borage into a better bundle. “I would really rather focus on you than these herbs.” At the moment, that certainly was true. Herbs couldn’t be toyed with and herbs didn’t have hearts to betray them. While their effects were fascinating, the herbs in themselves were altogether uninteresting.

Another strike of lighting cleaved the sky in two; a loud snap of thunder rolled long and low, turning into a sudden great crack! like the snapping of a bone under pressure. Cinderfoot set a brisk, mile-eating lope as his pace and beckoned for Mousedapple to follow him. The rain began falling in earnest know, soaking the ground and soaking his pelt. The waterlogged sensation was oddly comforting; the gray tom reveled in his sudden discomfort. Suddenly, the herbs seemed not so important. Who cared if they got wet? He’d just come out again tomorrow. And bring Mousedapple; watching her as his responses changed from playful to snappish was so entertaining. He made a mental note to push and pull for a while before finishing everything. “Keep a stem of goldenrod; I appreciate your help.” Ha! Good one, I’d have done twice as much without you. It was all so unbearably funny to Cinderfoot. She was so enthralled that she was willing to stay out in the rain for the chance of getting him interested in her. It was so obvious.

Predictable.

Then, on impulse he added, “Bear in mind that this is by no means an invitation to lurk around when you have duties to fulfill.” There, that seemed good enough. It was time to cut back on the words before his mouth ran ahead of his brain and he blurted out something Mousedapple had no business hearing. His paws pounded the wet earth, probably leaving momentary impressions behind before the rain filled them up and spilled over, turning the dirt to mud. It should look like rain more often.

word count // 634
ooc comments // heh, Cinder is such a buttmunch-jerkface. I love him so much.
tags // tango

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[TANGO]

She pawed the ground anxiously as she waited for Cinderfoot's cue to head back to camp. She could do no more out here to help the Clan and she rather wished to be snuggled safely in the underground burrow of the warrior's den before the downfall came. Unfortunately, the medicine cat apprentice seemed intent on dawdling.

"You know, you have quite the detrimental effect on my concentration." The she-cat looked up in surprise, her furry face catching the impact of a sudden gust of wind. As the length of her pelt danced in the breeze, her heart did a flutter of its own. Was he...? "I would really rather focus on you than these herbs." Indeed, there was absolutely no denying it now. Mousedapple felt a sudden heat emanating from her chest as she mulled over the tom's words. How dangerous, how exciting! He was going to be a medicine cat; this was off-limits...

A crack of lightning broke her train of thought, snapping her back into the present moment. She was, suddenly, intensely aware of the tall reams of grass waving around her feet, of the damp and heavy air, of the frantic droplets of rain. Finally, Cinderfoot deemed it time to return to camp, and she found herself scrutinizing his figure as he turned his back to her and began to lope away. It took her several moments to realize that she was simply standing in the rain watching him, goldenrod leaves dangling out of her mouth and her paws not moving an inch.

She blinked once and then bounded forward, sprinting after him. As she moved, the clouds opened up, letting a furious sheet of water tumble from the sky. Oh mousedung! She was too mad to let out a hiss. The tapping of the rain irritated her skin, and her wet pelt felt miserable. Oh, she had been right all along! She shouldn't have stayed out here. She should have gone back to camp when she had the chance. Thanks, Cinderfoot, she thought bitterly.

Just when she was about to lose her temper, he turned to her and offered the most magical words: "Keep a stem of goldenrod; I appreciate your help." Her eyes widened instantly and she looked greedily at the beautiful plant, imagining how good it would look tied around her neck or woven into her nest. "Oh, thank you so much!" she oozed, then hesitated. "But I couldn't... Oh, who am I kidding? Of course, I could," she decided, delightfully reaching for a stem. "As long as you're sure you'll still have enough for the Clan..."

She was glad she had picked up her herb while his good humor lasted, because soon enough he was warning her to stay away from his den. I wonder if there's an herb for moodiness, she thought in exasperation. Perhaps she should talk to Barkface about that... But to Cinderfoot, she retained her ever-pleasant demeanor. Pouring on as much honey as possible, she mewed, "Of course not. I'd hate to think that I'm distracting you from your herbs." His mood swings were beginning to make her feel dizzy, and she decided to leave before he had the chance to shift on her again. Keeping a firm grip on her goldenrod, she mewed, "Ta ta!"

Her tail waved happily as she trotted off toward the safety of the warrior's den, so engrossed with thoughts of Cinderfoot and her beautiful stem of goldenrod that it would be several hours before she remembered the pile of fresh-kill she had left rotting on the moors...

[OOC. Should we call that a wrap, or do you want to reply?]