the lazy warrior

chapter 8

Drippingpaw was incensed as he sauntered off, still barely able to comprehend his brother's shift in not only demeanor, but disposition. But to his astonishment, even though there had been no previous discussion, Graypaw had stalked off in the same direction Dripping had intended to barrel into. Drippingpaw zestfully followed his brother's lashing tall, surprised to find his shock almost mitigated.

"Are you sure she loves you back though," Drippingpaw made one last feeble attempt to encapsulate his brother as he neared. Although he spawned no response, Drippingpaw was reassured to see an ounce of insecurity flicker in Graypaw's gaze as he raced away to congratulate the new warriors.

He'd known that Stoatpaw, his sister, hadn't been an option ever since he'd caught her out of camp poking her nose through flowerbeds and plucking out stems to place between her ears even with her mentor in her vicinity. He couldn't accept how contrite she was. The only littermate he had was Graypaw and he knew his mother wasn't going to give birth to any more kits. So it was a shame that Graypaw had been sidetracked.

Overwhelmed by all his crushed dreams, Drippingpaw fled past the reeds that surrounded the camp. In the end he chose to flee from camp. I don't care about those new warriors anyway! Watch them take a mate, such a beebrained custom!

He never spared the warrior-code with even a mere shrug, so he found it as easy as the wing of a bee to dismiss the fact that he was heading out of camp unaccompanied. After all, Graypaw had left camp alone, and so had some kits.

Although he was ashamed to admit it, he had marveled over the catch the two kits had made. He didn't typically notice external beings, especially the softer ones, but- as repentant as he was- he had to admit it was stupefying. Something must've possessed the both of them for them to make such a badger-sized catch.

He hadn't walked for long before he stumbled. When he wrathfully glanced down at the ground, he found his paws caught at an awkward angle in a crevice. Drippingpaw winced as he extracted his rattled paw. But once his paw was, the obtrusive scent of Freckledkit permeated. The kit must have hunted here, now I'm infected!

Instantly, his blood boiled and roared to life. Fury sent his fur sparking as if it were teeming with adders nipping off each root. His skin simmered beneath his fur as if it were being peeled off. He flexed his claws, wishing the grit beneath him would morph into one of the kits as he tore them out. Dust rattled by his blows billowed around him, further stinging his muzzle and his mental wounds.

Drippingpaw thought that if anything in Starclan, he should be the one to love Featherkit and that Graypaw had much more to relate to with Freckledkit than Featherkit. His mother's preference of Graypaw was conspicuous. If anything, he was the unwanted kit, the parallel to Featherkit, while Graypaw was meant for Freckledkit.

But Drippingpaw knew that he didn't long for a she-cat. Ever since he'd witnessed his elegant sister poking around the flower stalks around camp around the nursery, Drippingpaw had decided that she-cats were just too pointless. The memory of his sister keeping the butterflies she'd caught delicately alive just to place on the flower petals she'd scattered around the nursery had abhorred him from a young age. If anything he found toms- like the brother of the two she-kits, Breezykit- much more swag.

Another issue Drippingpaw saw in Graypaw padding after Featherkit was that the tom was far out of the kit's league in talent. Despite loathing the new kit, he had to acknowledge her potential. However, Drippingpaw's initial anger was still focused on how his littermate, who was supposed to become as fierce and bloodthirsty as him.

Too enraged to hunt like his brother, Drippingpaw began to flee beyond the slopes. He had no burden to inform his mother of his whereabouts. Suddenly, the lack of fondness he received that just might've hardened him if he hadn't been born the way he was stopped encumbering his squared shoulders.

Once the scents of Windclan ebbed in the air around him, Drippingpaw took off, relishing the fresh air of the moor. If Graypaw refuses my brotherhood from now on, at least I have the untainted breeze. At the reassuring thought, Drippingpaw also wondered if he could pursue Breezykit as a supplement. Breezykit could be my accomplice in the end, my partner in crime while Graypaw can be slayed for treason.

Drippingpaw must've lost track of life as he'd veered off into trees. Luckily, he tasted only traces of Thunderclan and Riverclan scent. He was far from territory. As he inspected closer, he realized that the trees were patched together as if they were grown in bundles.

As he continued to survey the odd land, he noted that there weren't many trees present in deed. More astonishingly, there was an array of twoleg nests despite how barren the land was. The lake was being inhabited, although only drop by drop. But soon enough, Drippingpaw's gawking was interrupted by an appetizing sound of squeaking and scuffling.

Drippingpaw's jaws watered as his eyes centered on a mouse snaking its way through the roots of the nearest tree, oblivious to its threat and eventual fate. I decided I wouldn't hunt earlier, but what harm can a change of mind and heart do? Drippingpaw was aware the irony of his personal inquiry, but he decided to release molecules of his wrath.

However, as he swished his tail across the ground just short of the tallest blades of grass and pounced, he crashed into a load of fur that was the size of an entire fresh-kill pile instead of just the diminutive mouse he'd been pursuing. It only took the blink of an eye for Drippingpaw to distinguish between the scent of a cat and a mouse.

Instantly, he reared back, his jaws retracted in a hiss. He was met with the same hostility by the cat he'd collided into. However, a bemusing feeling came over the two as they both lowered their belligerent expressions. Laughter bubbled in both of them. We are so alike.

"That was my mouse!" The declaration from the kittypet seemed a lot more amusing than confrontational. He's a kittypet but he's not like any I've ever experienced. Drippingpaw couldn't contain his excitement. He couldn't stop himself from gazing into the enigmatic cat's eyes, hoping to read every fiber in them.

"What's your name," Drippingpaw ventured, hoping to retain the exhilaration. "Bunny," the tom responded peppily. His response was quick enough to fill Drippingpaw with even more hope. "W- what's a Bunny?" Drippingpaw didn't want to appear like a mousebrained fool- especially in front of an alluring tom-, but he also wanted to save himself from any future flops. He also wanted to keep talking with intuition. "W-what? You don't know your own prey? The one with the fluff and the cloudy tail?"

The light bulb instantly went off in Drippingpaw's mind, as well as a wave of embarrassment and delight. Enticing name and funny cat.... "My name is Drippingpaw." Drippingpaw made an earnest attempt to change the topic, flattening his ears in preparation for a demeaning retort. "Drippingpaw," Bunny huffed incredulously. "Your paws aren't even damp."

That's because my eyes are and my mother wanted to revolve my entire life around them. Drippingpaw bitterly thought. However, he was slightly pleased to find that the moisture in his eyes had temporarily dried from the shining sun that caught him at an angle beside Bunny's household. Fortunately, Bunny hadn't attempted to probe for any more. Drippingpaw had discerned more laughter than scorn in the kittypet's response.

The two hadn't caught the first mouse, but the area was overridden with mice and scents of other kittypets which Drippingpaw didn't initially detect. Soon enough the two cats had their jaws packed with mice tails. The two settled down to enjoy their catch. Feeling the warmth from Bunny's pelt seeping into his as they crouched side by side, Drippingpaw felt as if the tide had turned. Maybe he could be that abetter I so desperately need, and I do want him...

For a wavering amount of time, Drippingpaw didn't wish to return to camp. He was glad that the series of unfortunate events had led him to the precious cat beside him....