Lead Sails and a Paper Anchor (Acro)

[[Acro.]]

ooc:// Nice! =D

Sandstrike listened to Vineheart as he groomed her tail, his steady rasping concealing the smirk he wore. It was cute, how she tried to act all... suave, but, really, darling, leave it to the professionals. It wasn't until she stumbled that Sandstrike paused mid-stroke to quirk his brow up at his Clanmate. She recovered quickly, but it was too late. And she knew it, too. Silently, the tom laughed, the only sign of it being the playful light dancing in his eyes while he watched her. So, he had been right--she'd never actually been assigned an apprentice.

A note he would have to remember.

As Vineheart trailed off, Sandstrike lifted his muzzle away from her tail and tilted his head curiously. "What? You, embarrassed? Look, dove, I've basically literally seen you at your worst," he teased with his sly, knowing grin. 'And your best,' he finished silently, recalling that word that had continued to echo through his head at the sight of Vineheart facing that loner... what was it, again? Ah, yes...

Fearless.

Purring quietly, his eyes taking in the bloody, dirty mess that was his Clanmate, Sandstrike shook his head and continued with a touch more sincerity in his voice. "As far as I'm concerned, apprentice or no apprentice, there is nothing you could say to me now that would cause me to think any less of you." Vineheart had proven herself more to him in those few moments at the Nest than some warriors had after moons of working together. Sandstrike and Vineheart had fought together--Sandstrike had literally carried Vineheart home--and now, together, they were grooming out the aftermath.

She should know that she could feel safe with him.

[ℓυиαя]

His previous question had reminded her of what else she hadn't achieved in her short time as a warrior. Starclan, it wasn't just an apprentice she had never had but no mate either! At her age a lot of other she cats had mates or at least love interests, Vineheart hadn't, she had just gotten along with everyone but no one in that way. She supposed she had plenty of time but- she froze, dissapointment and pain closing over her features as she remembered the recent additions to her face. Sure, Sandstrike thought they didn't matter but what about everyone else? If she had been mateless then what about now? Dropping her gaze and sweeping it rapidly along the ground at her feet Vineheart tried really hard to keep her breathing steady. She knew it was a silly thing to worry about but it mattered to her and in her current fragile state it was starting to cause her to panic.

"What? You, embarrassed? Look, dove, I've basically literally seen you at your worst."

His words broke her out of her downward spiral and she made herself look up at him, happy for the distraction. Forcing a small smile and trying to forget the doubts that barraged the inside of her head, Vineheart let out a hesitant laugh. "Yeah, don't remind me." Why was she suddenly so shy around him? Maybe because she knew that she never had to hide around him and she could be herself? Maybe because he truly cared and she could trust him only after the short time they had met each other? She didn't know. Maybe because she had just realised that she could sit with him and talk for moons and moons. Maybe she would have to, he was the only one she felt comfortable around. Maybe.. No, she wasn't going to think about anything more. She hardly knew him and he obviously was just looking out for her as any clanmate would. 

Shaking her head to clear it again, she smiled at his words, this time a genuine smile that lit up her eyes and transformed her features. He really was just full of compliments, hence why she felt like this, he made her feel special. Yes that was it. He was probably like this with everyone. Feeling an unusual nasty feeling bubble up inside her, Vineheart frowned and narrowed her eyes. What was it with her emotions she thought, stamping on the emotion and squishing it back down to where it had come from. "Well, thank you Sandstrike. Hopefully it'll be my turn once I'm fully healed," she laughed gently. "I'd be not much use to an apprentice like this."

[[Acro.]]

It was almost like a game, now: how many times could he--and what would it take to--get Vineheart to smile that smile?

And, if it was a game, Sandstrike was definitely winning.

(And, p.s.: he was definitely going to be reminding her. At least once a moon, a most certainly in front of her friends.)

He watched her calmly as a swirl of emotions overtook her, clouding and brightening her eyes, changing the way she held or regarded herself... He wanted to know about that storm going on inside of her, but felt he shouldn't ask about it, just yet.

He would definitely ask, eventually, because he was nosy, but even he knew how and when to be patient (sometimes).

Sandstrike shrugged at her comment, letting his eyes wander briefly around the clearing before calmly returning to the she-cat. "I wouldn't worry about it," he remarked coolly, a smile pulling at his muzzle. "Just trust Ratstar--she knows what she's doing. You'll get an apprentice soon enough." The tom stretched out his long forelegs, and added, "And, really, why rush it? It's going to eat away all of your free time, and then who am I going to drag around on my 'special assignments'?" Pausing, the cinnamon warrior regarded Vineheart in his easy way, his fiery eyes again taking her in. Her pelt. Her eyes.

Her scars.

Or, rather, the treacherous injuries that would soon be leaving scars.

A thought came to him then, and his brow furrowed with intrigue, though his sly grin was still dutifully in place. "You were so..." Fearless. "...excellent, today," he commented thoughtfully, tone casual as ever. "Faced with such a threat and so unafraid, and yet... you're afraid, now." A question hung in the air with his words. How could she have been so courageous when her life was on the line, but, now... now he could see that she was struggling not to hide herself from her Clanmates--from her home.

[ℓυиαя]

That was true, apprentices did take up a lot of time which is why she knew that in her current state she would be a pitiful mentor. Maybe when she was better she could throw herself into mentor duties to keep her mind off things. It would be one thing off her list of things she hadn't done yet right? She wondered why she felt excited at the mention of another 'special assignment' when the last one had gone so dangerously wrong. What was wrong with her? She had almost died but somehow the thought of him choosing her to accompany him made her happy.

Shuffling her fluffy white paws, she wondered where he was going when he spoke next and once he was finished, she truly didn't know how to answer him. Looking up from her paws again, Vineheart watched him as he smiled slyly at her. The sandy tom really was a hard one to figure out, with his humor and ability to hide everything behind a smile. It was hard to read what truly went on in that intelligent mind. Tilting her head to the side as she thought, she small tabby studied the bigger tom. Finally she looked down as an answer formed. "I had to survive.. here.. it's different. That survival instinct is gone and I'm left in the aftermath. Kind of like then the big waters come. I was so focused on surviving I couldn't be... afraid. And now everything is sinking in, hitting me at once." She wrinkled up her nose slightly, the action causing her whiskers to twitch and her to look much younger than she was. The movement caused her cuts to pull and tear and she whimpered gently, having almost forgotten their freshness. Licking a paw, she delicately washed over the weeping wounds, closing her eyes in concentration and being as gentle as she could. 

Moments passed as she tended her wounded face.

Finally she spoke, her head turning towards him and her golden eyes opening once more, "And you? You were so.. brave and confident the entire time, you still are. Were you not scared once? How did you not let it show?"

[[Acro.]]

Sandstrike flinched, sympathetically reacting to the pain Vineheart felt when she smiled too widely--feeling her injuries rip open against his own skin. He knew that feeling--had felt it many times--and he hoped it wouldn't trouble her for long. As she tended to her pains, Sandstrike worked more on her matted tail, pausing once the she-cat began to speak again. Her question had him tilting his head, searching for an answer that was neither the entire truth nor unsatisfactory.

He had been scared.

It took a lot to scare Sandstrike. He loved battle, and had seen more than most cats ever would during his moons of living, but... sure--sure, he got scared. Things scared him. His mind flew back to the day Ratstar had been carried off by those gigantic birds, and how he had felt watching her be taken, and not being able to do anything... All those times in battle when he watched a Clanmate fall... When his younger sister was in battle beside him...

All of these things had made him afraid.

but had he been afraid back at the Nest?

The tom's eyes found Vineheart's and he searched them for a quiet moment. Did he tell her? Did her tell her how afraid he had been? How his blood had run cold with the thought of her dying--that he hadn't been sure they would both be making it back safely? With a cool smile, the tom looked away and shrugged. "It wouldn't have done either of us any good if I had broken down," he commented casually. He glanced Vineheart's way, grinning slyly and quirking his brow. "When we are afraid, there is rarely any real reason--it's better to just believe there is nothing to fear." Nothing that doesn't actually matter. Laughing quietly, the tom looked away and continued. "You did have me for a moment, though," he admitted playfully. "All still and bloody on the ground... you nearly had me."

Yes.

Yes, he had been afraid for her.

...which is quite possibly the only reason that that loner was still breathing.

[ℓυиαя]

Those large golden eyes didn't stray from the sandy warrior once, even when he looked away. It almost seemed like he was trying to make light of how he had really felt and to be honest she didn't blame him. She noticed he did that a lot, or at least that's how it seemed to her - hiding everything behind a sly smile or a joking comment. It made it easier for others and himself she guessed but she wished that he would be brutally honest for once, rather than try to dress up everything he said. He could trust her.

"All still and bloody on the ground... you nearly had me."

Well she guessed that was one way to put it - was that brutally honest enough for her? She laughed softly, the light in her eyes, but that topic was for obvious reasons still too close to home for comfort. but only nearly had him? Vineheart doubted that given what he had seen, if their situations were reversed, she would have been so brave. The encounter with the white feline, though still fresh, was more of a montage of emotions to her rather than actual events and her eyes narrowed as she tried to remember what had happened at the end. Had the loner lived, had she ran off or had Sandstrike killed her? That was something Vineheart didn't have the answer to. The small tabby kneaded the ground with round paws. "In that case ill have to try harder next time," humor laced her tone but her gaze was serious as she tried to remember for the life of her what had happened. Golden eyes dropped. "I don't.. What happened after? I just remember leaving the nest vaguely but...." A brief twitch of white whiskers and the ascent of golden eyes once more. "Is she still alive?"

Vineheart didn't know Sandstrike well enough to gauge what had happened. He had either ripped the loners throat out or put his clan mates first - either could have occurred given the circumstances (ie: them both being alive and well). Plus, he didn't really give much away. Strange to think how things worked out. In a matter of a day and a few life or death situations, Vineheart had begun to feel closer to this tom than she ever had anyone else. Funny how near death experiences could do that to a cat. Sighing softly, the little tabby looked down at her coat. Throughout their conversing, her pelt was starting to look much better which lightened the tabby's mood considerably. 

[[Acro.]]

ooc:// ℓυиαя!! All of my work. Is. Almost. Done.
...I just couldn't stay away from this any longer ._.

"In that case I'll have to try harder next time."

Sandstrike's eyes flickered over to Vineheart, his brow quirked. For someone who had nearly died not too long ago... she certainly was quick to make jokes about it. Solemn humor, but humor, none the less. A sly grin tugged at the warrior's muzzle, but he looked back out across the dark camp before he let it show. Vineheart really was just something else. As the she-cat went on, her voice dropping and demeanor shifting, the tom trained one ear attentively in her direction.

"I just remember leaving the nest vaguely but..."

As soon as these words had left Vineheart's mouth, Sandstrike knew where this was headed.

"Is she still alive?"

And there it was. Sandstrike could feel Vineheart's eyes reaching for his, but he did not meet them. He did not change his posture, and, at a distance, he would still appear his usual, calm self... He hoped that this was also true for anyone close-up. The cinnamon tom's eyes had lit with an excited fire, the flames licking around the edges of his vision as a hot energy infected the air around him. Was she still alive? Was that monster still free to walk and roam as she pleased? Was the loner still smiling, knowing she could nearly kill a cat and just get away with it?

And was he supposed to tell Vineheart that, yes, her attacker still paced the territories, and she could be anywhere, waiting to finish the job?

Was he supposed to be the one to instill that fear in his Clanmate, who was already suffering because he couldn't save her fast enough?

The tom's claws quietly unsheathed in a moment of broken composure, but he retracted them quickly and let his usual, playful smirk melt onto his expression. He could not douse the fire in his eyes, but he remedied this by never looking Vineheart's way for too long--only long enough. "I wouldn't worry about remembering," he commented easily, humor in his words, casually shifting closer to Vineheart. "It's over now, and that furball isn't worth it." From his new position, Sandstrike began to work on cleaning the blood from the fur around Vineheart's shoulders and neck where she couldn't easily reach. On the outside, this gesture was natural and easy, but... really, Sandstrike was just hoping to focus on the task at paw, so that perhaps they could drop the subject.

If they kept talking about it, Sandstrike might leave camp right there and then to hunt the loner down and finish what he'd started.

[ℓυиαя]

"It's over now, and that furball isn't worth it."

Clearly she was although she respected the fact that he didn't say it outright, as much as she was joking - her fear was still fresh. It was a good thing that Sandstrike was here to help her through. There was something about his sly humor and smirks that made her almost forget what had happened not even a day earlier. So the loner was still alive, a thought that made her both scared and angry. Vineheart didn't want to be watching over her shoulder every time she left camp. It was one thing to be branded with horrendous scars, but to still afterwards be scared for her life while the assailant walked free, alive? That made Vineheart mad.

Fire lit up her usually calm, caring eyes but she moved her gaze and busied herself grooming her chest as to not worry Sandstrike. He probably felt uneasy also and she didn't want him to feel like he was the reason for her anger. Taking a few deep breaths and relaxing at Sandstrikes soft strokes, Vineheart didn't say anything for a while until she could trust he voice would come out soft and soothing once more. Anger wasn't something she enjoyed- let alone on herself.

After a while those golden eyes flicked to him and though her gaze was soft there was a serene seriousness to it that was well beyond her 20 moons. "Yeah, you're right, she's not." A small smile before she added. "I'll just keep my eyes open for her. One eye always open right?" Goodbye to her independence outside of the camp, goodbye to her early morning walks of solitude, goodbye to her carefree, innocent existence. She would try not to look at the negatives though. Safety was more important than anything, even if that safety was otherwise uncalled for. Suddenly it dawned on her that Sandstrike would also have the same problem. She couldn't imagine him letting the danger hinder him as a warrior though she did want him to be careful. "You too, keep an eye out. I don't want that piece of foxdung hurting either of us any further."

More than anything, she wanted him to be ok.

OOC: YAY that's so exciting! Almost done c: Sorry, it's an average post :l

[[Acro.]]

ooc:// Nonsense! It's a great post <3

"I'll just keep my eyes open for her. One eye always open right?"

Yes.

Yes, that was right. but Sandstrike didn't want it to be true. Not for Vineheart--not for a warrior just beginning to blossom.

Vineheart was too young to be hard.

Sandstrike had seen it all: skirmishes, wars, the rise and fall of leaders, the birth of kits, the death of apprentices, betrayal, sacrifice... Sandstrike had seasons beneath his hide and many tells beneath his weathered fur. It was right--it was appropriate--for him to live in the cold of Life's truths. He had grown accustomed. He could take it.

but it wasn't fair to expect Vineheart to do the same.

"You too, keep an eye out. I don't want that piece of foxdung hurting either of us any further."

The tom lifted his head away from his Clanmate's shoulder and locked his eyes (burning, fierce, wild) onto hers (kind, courageous... bitter). For a moment, Sandstrike's expression cracked open to reveal a glimmer of the ferocity he had been so expertly hiding behind smirks and smiles--for an unintentional moment, he was real. When he spoke, his words were low and absolute, no trace of his usual humor in his smooth tones. "She should be the one keeping an eye out for me," he stated, a darkness passing over his expression before, all at once, the tom blinked his secrets away and he resumed his typical look of ease and mischief. He smirked playfully before taking his eyes off of Vineheart's and sweeping them around the dark camp. "I'm sure Ratstar will send a stronger patrol to make sure the loner is removed from our territory. We won't be bothered by her, again."

No, not again.

Never again.

Not as long as he was alive.

[ℓυиαя]

She saw him then, in that instance where is eyes burned bright without the facade to cloud them.

It both shocked and intrigued her.

Sure she had guessed that he wasn't all smiles and sly comments - that there was more to him - but it was because it contrasted so hugely against how he portrayed himself. One like sunrise, the other a storm barely leashed. Both beautiful and dangerous at the same time. 

When he spoke, she believed him, had no doubt that he meant what he said. As experienced as he was, Vineheart knew he was well equipped to handle anything that came his way. 

Then why not then? Why not with the white intruder?

The answer came to her on her next heartbeat.

Because of me.

Vineheart had pieced together that he had left for her, if not would he have finished her off? The tone in his voice made it very clear. Yes. She faintly heard him making a casual comment in the background but it was lost in the roar of her mind. Because of her a dangerous cat was still alive, waiting to prey on her friends, family, clanmates. Would the loss of her have really been a loss if it meant the safety of the clan? Golden eyes struggled to make sense of it all, she tried to tell herself not to be so hard on herself but it was like swimming up stream through a rapid: for every paddle she took, she got washed further downstream and felt worse off for it.

Making herself turn her gaze in his direction, her eyes were somber, body rock still.

"Why did you do it? Why save my life and not take hers?"

[[Acro.]]

There was a moment, a blessed moment, when Sandstrike was convinced the subject had passed--that they could go back to idle grooming and playing and she would just go back to smiling that smile of hers...

but then there was tension.

It crept subtly into the air, biting at the ends of his whiskers. He could feel Vineheart's stillness beside him, and he knew that it wasn't over (it would never be over).

"Why did you do it?"

Don't.
Don't you dare.

"Why save my life and not take hers?"

The tom's eyes flashed with their usual fire, his tail flicking quietly against the ground as his gaze absently swept the clearing. Was Vineheart asking him to justify saving her life? Was she asking him to assign her life a value?

Did she not know it, already?

Sandstrike's pelt warmed with an internal fury, lashing out at the injustice of everything. This young creature--this warrior--this precious thing didn't see how her life was worth more than some mangy fleabag's? Could she not see why he would have passed on killing that loner a thousand times more if it meant he could save her, his Clanmate, just once? There was a time and a place to act for the good of the entire Clan--Sandstrike was no stranger to that--but the incident back in the Nest... that had not been one of those times.

The cinnamon warrior could feel Vineheart's eyes burning into him, feel her rigidity at his side--how she was braced against the harsh potential of her own questions. Naturally, he wanted to reply with something fast, something witty:

"Because Ratstar would have had my pelt if I lost another warrior on patrol."

"Because I didn't want to deal with two bodies before dinner."

"Because then she would have won, and I'm too stubborn to lose."

but, instead, what came out was low and sincere. His expression was still easy, his brow quirking playfully as his eyes found their way back to Vineheart's, his voice was casual and nonchalant... he even shrugged, like it was nothing... but the way his blazing eyes fell into hers showed that there was no play in his words.

"Because you're worth it," he replied easily, like the answer was obvious. Like she should have known. Like she shouldn't have needed to ask. Holding her eyes with his for just another moment longer, Sandstrike smirked, and then looked away before speaking again, his voice smooth and casual. "Don't tell me you're upset that I carried your sorry pelt all the way back here, because my legs will take issue with that."

[ℓυиαя]

OOC: This is the funniest line ever: "Because I didn't want to deal with two bodies before dinner." Heh :3 Sorry for short post :l

His response warmed her pelt. She was worth it. He probably didn't know how much his seemingly casual comment meant to her and he most likely never would. but she would remember. In the short amount of time she had known him, he had already been more trustworthy, more reliable and more caring than anyone she had ever met. Those large golden eyes brightened in her now rugged face before she quickly whipped them away.

She shouldn't be this happy over such a small comment. He had chosen her welfare over that of the clans. No wonder the others were all so cold towards her. Another wave of guilt overwhelmed her but it wasn't quite enough to  swallow up how good his comment had made her feel. She told herself the feelings were stupid, that she just felt indebted to him but she wasn't silly. It was more than that.

Silly silly cat.

He was an older, much more experienced warrior that only thought of her as a friend, a clan mate. And because of that, she would say nothing.

"No, I'm not. I'm sorry. It's just.. hard not to feel guilty you know?" A soft confession but not the confession she wanted to say. "Not when they all look at me in that way. Thank you for everything Sandstrike. Truly." For now she was content to just spend time with him. Maybe something would come of it later, but she doubted it.

[[Acro.]]

ooc:// Haha xD And no worries! It's a great post :3

"It's just... hard not to feel guilty you know?

He knew.

He knew more than Vineheart realized--more than she would ever know, as long as he could help it.

He had taken her on that patrol. It had all been his idea.

    It wasn't...

        He could've just...

            Ratstar didn't...

And now look.

"Not when they all look at me in that way."

Sandstrike's claws quietly unsheathed as his eyes flickered over to Vineheart's. This time, he forced himself to change his perspective--to really see her scars the way others might see them. He looked away again, at ease on the outside but raging beneath his skin.

"Thank you for everything Sandstrike. Truly."

The tom's pupils narrowed sharply in the dark, expanding in the next instant back into their naturally adjusted state, appropriate for the growing shadows. Why had she thanked him? For saving her life? For doing what was right? He didn't deserve her thanks for that. "You deserve her scars," whispered a quiet voice, causing his tail to lash once to the side. The tom's whiskers pulled back tensely, but this was the only sign of a change in his demeanor. Cool, collected--not a care in the world. This was who he was--who he was expected to be--

Who he was good at.

Playfully, Sandstrike tilted his head to smile with his typical slyness at his companion, his voice smooth and easy. Deflecting. "Don't thank me, Kitten. Who knows, I might just hold this over your head for the rest of your life."

"Don't thank me for doing this to you."

"Now, finish your fish," he added, nodding down to her half-eaten meal as he got to his paws. He winced inwardly at the pain that burned against his pads, but showed no sign of discomfort as he stepped over Vineheart and settled down on the other side of her. "And stop distracting me from my work." He gave her a pointed look before re-assuming his grooming duties, working to clean her other shoulder.

Just eat. Please.

Eat and stop thinking about the nightmare, because it was over now.

[ℓυиαя]

A small smile. One of contentedness but also sadness.

He didn't give himself enough credit and she doubted he ever did.

When he spoke, her eyes dropped down to the fish that still remained clutched between her little white paws and her stomach growled in agreement. Clearly she had been too caught up in her thoughts and their discussion, even with the wafting of fresh food. Dipping her head, Vineheart finished the fish off in record time, the last few bites doing nothing to quench the emptiness in her stomach. Usually she wasn't a big eater but today it felt like she could finish off the fresh kill pile and it wouldn't touch the hunger. Feeling his rough tongue cleaning her fur on her other side, Vineheart looked down at the rest of her. Other than the throbbing of her shoulder and of course the scarring on her face, she could almost pretend that nothing had happened.

Oh if only she could.

but then she guessed, things happened for a reason, however traumatic this experience had been and still was. Would she have spent this time with Sandstrike? Most likely not. Lost in her thoughts once more, Vineheart didn't say anything but resumed to grooming her other foreleg, the one closest to Sandstrike. As much as she couldn't wait for something to be back to normal about her, she wondered if once his work was done, he would disappear back into the camp. Perhaps they would still talk or perhaps it would only be in passing. She didn't know.

Quickly licking the last patch of fur on her paw, Vineheart's eyes brightened softly, some normalcy returning to her life. With the brightening of those golden orbs came a natural smile as she turned her head to her new friend with a happy mrrow. That gaze then turned cheeky. "I told you it would take a long while huh? I'm surprised you stayed."

[[Acro.]]

ooc:// ℓυиαя! Sorry for the delay!

"I told you it would take a long while huh? I'm surprised you stayed."

He smiled.

Pausing in his work, the metallic tang of blood on his tongue, Sandstrike licked his muzzle and smiled mischievously at Vineheart. Perfect. This--this play--was something he could work with. "Of course I stayed," he replied easily, flicking his tail in cool indifference. "I never go back on my promises--no matter what they might tell you." The tom purred low in his chest after throwing Vineheart a playful wink, the sound natural and smooth. His eyes went to Vineheart's face--a face that stood as proof of her courage and strength.

A perfect face.

A warrior's face.

The tom's eyes held there for a few moments more, his fire behind them as his smirk grew slier and slier in each passing instant. She would be okay; he would make sure of it. When he looked away again, Sandstrike glanced down at his once-bitten chipmunk on Vineheart's other side before he swept his gaze around the dark camp--only a paw-full of warriors or apprentices were still out and about, now. Most would be in their nests, sleeping and preparing for tomorrow. "You're welcome to my chipmunk," he commented, continuing to work calmly on Vineheart's shoulder. "I don't think I'll be finishing it."

He really didn't have the stomach for eating, in those moments.