The Fallen Tree's

[Rolo]

Frostpaw didn't like his calm tone. She did not. She did not like his indirectness and she hated how he seemed to answer a question with a question.

Frostpaw could see a glimmer of playfulness in his eyes, but though she shared the feelings she hated his overconfidence. She hated how he assumed so easily. He seemed deluded, thinking that somehow all cats thought the same way.

Her tail twitched slightly. He was putting method to something in which there was no method. He was attempting to read her mind, to predict her actions. It was wrong. And his confidence in his wrongness irritated her.

She would make sure his over-confidence would cost him dear.

"Who said my opinions didn't still stand?" Frostpaw questioned, forcing herself not to look away from his eyes. Her tone was light, it didn't match the intentions behind her words. "You assume too much, Finchpaw. Much to much. You have, suprised me, yes. Many cats do. Then again, it's easy to for me to forget that there is potential for... thought in all cats' minds, especially when you are surrounded by cats of your father's kind."

A sharp undertone now lay below her voice, her truth-telling in full swing now. She had held back before, for some reason unknown to her, but now she felt it wrong to spend this entire day arguing about questions and never giving any answers. Finchpaw could answer her questions with questions, he could try and make her question herself. He could do whatever he wanted, she would provide the truth and answers. She would answer his questions for him, she would rip his questions to shreds. He would not preach like that to her again, he would not try and tell her what to think with his ill-informed questions.

She shook her head, smiling deviously, "No... my opinion of you hasn't changed. You're not special. You have shown me potential, but you have also proven what I already knew. You follow your father and brother's wishes blindly, going against your own wishes and following the path they carve for you. You're no more than a sheep with aspirations, not a vision but a mere dream."

The grey she-cat shook herself, her eyes still closed. "You see, Finchpaw, you made a step in thinking about making your own path, but..." She trailed off, opening her eyes to stare at him innocently, "As big as it may be, it's still only a rampant thought you may never even act upon. Many cats before you have thought about their lives objectively, why should I think any more of you because you had a brief moment of inspiration?"

She licked her paw and began to preen her ear in a casual way. The words, the embodiment of spite, had slipped out of her lips so easily. They felt so natural to her, so effortless she needn't even think particularly before saying them. Yet, there was no noticable amount of spite in her words, there was just the confidence of one who is self-assured enough to say what they think without a stutter.

"OH, and I'm not in your head." She added, "I never said I was. I make base my opinion on what I see and hear and talk about. I don't ever anticipate actions or try to read minds. Why should I? I don't need it. I just tell the truth, after all. Cats may react as they wish. It's not going to change the words I have uttered, after all.."

She sighed, rolling her eyes as she sat back down, "And the rest of the stuff you spoke was just... fox-dung. I ask a question, you question me back. You're a cat who 'speaks when they have something to say'? You don't give me much evidence to back that up, really. How much opinion can a cat have if they only question another in the face of interrogation, never truly thinking about their own answer."

[Whiskers]

"I have to disagree, Frostpaw."

Finchpaw let the insults buzz around him like bees and do their work, but like always, they slid off his fur like rainwater. He could see how this cat could get others worked up. But he always managed to catch himself and realize that the reaction of the cat is often what amused Frostpaw. Therefore, letting himself get angry would not help him. He could easily rationalize this situation if he took a breath, and saw through all the words that she tried to spit in his face and then quickly formed an opinion of his own.

"There will always be questions and if you don't continue to ask questions, then you'll never learn. I do not claim to know many of the answers to some of the questions you ask me because even I am unaware of what exactly motivates me to do things. It's like breathing-- it's innate. Why should I keep quiet if I am curious? And why should I answer you if I am unaware of the answer?"

His tail flicked back and forth, but it was the only movement that he gave as he continued to speak.

"As for your opinion of me, I can't change that. You can think of me a blind follower of my family, but that just shows how much we don't understand each other... and we never will if you insist on pointlessly insulting me and calling my methods and opinions 'fox dung.' I do make conscious choices-- you can disagree with those, but they are my choices and I will carry the weight of them. You can mock me for loving my family if you wish. But I am not my father and thefore, your mocking will not affect me like it does him."

Finchpaw took a breath in order to recollect himself before going on. But he was still as calm as ever.

"Frankly, I don't think you'll ever get anything done if you continue to insult cats like you tend to do. No one will listen to you or care about what you have to say. I personally feel that, in order to persuade a cat to see your way, you must be rational and logical. When you mock a cat because of their beliefs it will only push them further away."

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[Rolo]

Frostpaw could feel herself slowly becoming even more wound up as he spoke to her. Her very form emitted a silent anger, a pure furiousness Frostpaw rarely showed, even in the most frustrating of arguements. Yet, this fury did not have it's roots where many simple-minded cats wouldn't guess. She wasn't annoyed because Finchpaw had 'won' or because she had been insulted, but because the ginger tom had completely ignored her earlier words. Despite her being civil, perhaps even moral-building, previously... he had accused her of something she hadn't done. He had bitten her without thought.

Insults? At what point did I insult his beliefs...? When did I ever tell him that I thought his beliefs to be mouse-brained? I told him he could not word things, with that stupid reflecting questions thing... but I never insulted his beliefs. I told him my opinions of him. Is that so hard to take?

Frostpaw was both irritated and horrified. Why she didn't know. Why was it that he thought that she went out so blantantly to bash others beliefs? This was one of the first times she had let herself truely care... but he accused her of having no emotions at all.

She glared at him, a look of pure anger, inspired by hurt, upon her face. "I told you I did not insult beliefs. I told you that I disliked followers, but that's just because they follow. One has to respect another who has forged their own path, even if I don't agree with their beliefs. You follow as a sheep does, but just because my opinion of you has barely changed that doesn't mean..." She trailed off, snarling and changing tact, "I told you I respected you. But obviously that means nothing. Obviously that means I hate your beliefs. Obviously that means I think you're pitiful."

Her voice held a bitter sarcasm now. No good feelings came from acting like this, from making him question himself. No amusement or scheming came from this, it was a pure show of emotions.

This was what happened to her when she invested feelings, she got hurt. In this bitter feeling, she felt all the remaining memories of the wholesome feelings of happiness she had gotten by speaking emotively to Finchpaw disappear. She had been proved right once again. She gave her respect to someone, and it was betrayed almost instantly. Maybe she shouldn't speak so blantantly of her respect and avoid councilling anyone next time. Petty fun arguements seemed to hold more potential for happiness in them, even if they were short-lived. At least she got a thrill from them, in these she only got hurt.

"You think I have mocked you for your decisions?" She continued icily, "Well, obviously telling you that I understood why you feared your father's rage meant I was mocking you. I told you to answer my questions rather then re-aiming them at me, that was all. But that isn't rational or logical, since everycat is supposed to just sit there and watch their every question get reflected and distorted."

Frostpaw kneaded the ground, feeling hurt sting her once again. She turned her gaze away from his, unable to keep eye contact.

"And, do tell me, who do you suppose I will push further away, Finchpaw?" She said, her tone a little calmer but her voice just as cold, "I've told you no cat likes me, I live a life where I live only for my truth. No cat would wish to speak to me anyway, Finchpaw. You already know that. Thankyou for so bluntly reminding me, anyway, Finchpaw."

She growled, pausing for a moment before stating curtly, "And I'm sorry you can't take my bluntness. I shan't bother..." She thought for a moment, unable to remember the word as she hadn't used it in so long, "empathising anymore. In the end, my respect will be dismissed with spite anyway. Why should I bother or worry, or even try to help?"

[Whiskers]

Finchpaw took a step back as her rage washed over him, hot and sudden. This was different... usually she spoke with some air of collection, but this was Frostpaw firing words of passion at him, words said in the heat of the moment. She was speaking so fast that he had a hard time concentrating on the actual words and felt terrible for envoking this anger in her. He stared, ears folded back, one paw lifted in the air, as she rattled on.

He didn't know how he was going to address her now, after she was finished, and part of him hoped that she would talk on and on, fume and rant and rage so he wouldn't have to speak himself. But it would end soon and he would have to answer back, and so he tried his best to take in her words and make sense of them, and then to mold his own answer... and hopefully, one that wouldn't infuriate her further.

It was the last part that stung him the most, and echoed in his heart. And, do tell me, who do you suppose I will push further away, Finchpaw?

It threw him for a loop, because he had thought it had been obvious enough. He had told her that he admired her. He had told her that he had enjoyed talking to her and would like to talk with her again. She was the one who kept shutting him down and that's why he had pointed out that she wasn't going to get anywhere.

But there was one cat she hadn't yet succeeded in pushing away, and though it was going to seem cheesy, it looked like Finchpaw would have to make that known.

"You haven't yet pushed me away, Frostpaw," He answered, controlling his voice as much as he could. "I've told you that I love talking with you and that I hated to think I was just going to walk away from this with nothing gained... I... I suppose I might be foolish, but I was hoping that somehow, we could be mutual acquaintances," Finchpaw paused before going on, imagining all the ways she could cut him down. He then discarded them all and continued his thought. "Even friends. As for the rest of what you just said to me, I'm sorry you got so upset, but I still think that answering questions with questions can be just as helpful, especially if it makes you think even deeper into the answers. And I feel like you insulted me, Frostpaw. Some of the words you chose to use felt and were inflected as if they were insults."

What more was there to say? He didn't think there was anything else to say. Sometimes saying less was more and so he just lowered his head a little and tried to calm his poor, racing heart. My, Frostpaw did get him worked up some time, even if he didn't show it.

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[Rolo]

Frostpaw kept her gaze away from his, unable to meet his eyes. She was too torn up by this to allow this linkage of minds through eye contact. She could control her emotions usually, but she had already quite obviously lost it. It made her want to snarl at herself for getting so uptight.

However, as she kept her ears open to his voice, one set of words made her ears prick...

Even friends...

Even friends...

Even friends?

Frostpaw blinked, trying to understand such an alien word. Friend... what did that mean? She knew it meant some kind of emotional bond... but... surely... not with her. No one offered her friendship, she was one who was hated for her beliefs. Why would Finchpaw want such a bond with her?

Frostpaw understood his respect... but she did not understand his emotions. They were like unsolvable maths equations to her.

Her thoughtful ponderings were halted upon Finchpaw's continued rambling about questions. What was it with him and questions? Why had he gotten so hung up on the idea that questions upset her? It was quite the opposite... she couldn't care less about the stupid things.

She sighed, "Oh, Finchpaw." Her voice was filled with sadness and playfulness, "Why do you misunderstand me? Questions being answered with questions never upset me... I just inquired why you felt the need to do so. You told me you only opened your mouth when you had something to say. Excuse me, but I don't think you're very opinionated if you cannot answer a simple question before rewording it and asking me."

Frostpaw pondered for a moment, looking back into his eyes. Her confidence had semi-returned, and she felt the need to direct this question at him rather than the ground...

"As you have gathered, Finchpaw, my manner is rough. My words are not filled with emotion like most cats, and my truth-telling upsets many. I do not try to insult, but I end up doing so... and that is the reason why cat's don't like me. They don't like my bluntness and my lack of lies. The fact that you are offering your friendship, an emotional thing, baffles me. Why would you want to do that if I hurt you so much?"

[Whiskers]

Finchpaw had calmed down almost completely now, and he felt so much more... relaxed now. He watched--no, studied-- Frostpaw, his head slightly tilted, waiting for her own words. She was calmer now too and her tone was very... soothing to him. Though it held a tinge of sadness, he could sense some sort of happiness in there too, and the contradictory emotions suited her expression well.

Obviously, she was very confused over his notion of friendship, which was confirmed with her question.

Unlike other questions, this one wasn't hard to answer. Though he felt the need to clarify his question thing (it was a deep nagging within him that just wouldn't shut up) Finchpaw recognized that they could go back and forth and back and forth on that all day and nothing would really get done. Besides, Frostpaw looked interested in his reply to her last statement; he wouldn't bore her with more chatter then needed.

"Because I want to, Frostpaw." Frostpaw meowed urgently. He couldn't help himself and suddenly, he had been unplugged, and the calm that had just existed a few seconds ago was gone. He wore excitement in his eyes and sported the emotion on his posture as well.

" Your words, though they do hurt, the injury doesn't last very long. They're surface wounds to me. Maybe I'm just not as offended as easily as some, or maybe I just realize that it is your way to tell the truth. I'm not going to lie and say I'm not offended by some of your statements-- but not every relationship is perfect, whether its a friendship or something else. I just don't see why I should throw away a chance to be friends over differing opinions or some harsh words."

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[Rolo]

Frostpaw kept his gaze as he spoke to her, astonished by the sound of excitement in the ginger cat's voice. She was still a little confused... why was he so excited about the idea of being friends with her? Though his words had given her reason to believe that he just wished to be friends with everyone, his stance seemed to whisper of a quiet joy he held for a friendship with her in particular. In some bizarre way, it seemed Finchpaw was not seeking out her friendship for peace between the idealist and the submissive but for an honest relationship. A meeting of mind on an emotional level rather than an interllectual one.

Frostpaw pondered for a moment after he finished speaking. For Finchpaw, the offer of such an emotional tie had seemed an easy one, but for Frostpaw the implications of such a relationship were frightening... if strangely thrilling. It all came down to whether she rejected him on the basis that she didn't do friendship or whether she acted on a whim... listening to what her instincts told her for once.

Frostpaw smirked to herself. Hmm...

Dare she? She chuckled. Well... she supposed she did. What was she to follow rules? It could prove quite interesting... perhaps even fun if she let herself exchange respect to like.

In that moment, Frostpaw looked at Finchpaw through different eyes.

She liked him. Why? He had his own views, stood up for himself and was brave enough to offer affection. Those factors, individually, were rare in itself... but altogether was almost unheard of. Yet... there was a little more to it. Frostpaw admired his patience, adventure and ability to dream. She liked, for some reason unknown to her, his excitability and emotional slant on things. He was a refreshing cat... he was a cat she could like. Yes, she could...

Frostpaw smiled. A cool aura came over her, her mind finally made up. It wasn't fighting anymore, it was accepting... and with that acceptance came the calmness that comes from a clear mind. Yet, her gaze did not hold the cold, jokey or mocking edge they so often carried, they carried a muted excitement and quiet expectance.

Frostpaw blinked, focusing her gaze directly at Finchpaw. "I like you, Finchpaw. You might irritate me, but... I do like you."

She could think of nothing more to say. She wasn't in the practice of giving out emotional praise, let alone long soliloquey's on why she felt such affection. The word 'like' slipped out more easily than Frostpaw had imagined it would... she thought it strange how that could be the case. Having uttered these few words, the shock of what she was getting herself into hit her again and a slight fear marked itself in her stance.

[Whiskers]

Finchpaw tried not to get too carried away at her words. Her very simple, very honest words, words he had been hoping for... but wasn't expecting to get. Finchpaw almost pulled a Firepaw and puffed out his chest fur, but he managed to suppress this strange urge, instead choosing to smile, his whiskers twitching in quiet victory.

But oh, it was a victory that would be hard to keep. Just because Frostpaw "liked" him now didn't mean that in a few days she'd still have that opinion. Finchpaw still couldn't quite understand why he was so... eager to have her admiration. He really did love talking with her, he really did admire her, but to him, those two reasons didn't fully explain his determination to talk with the she-cat.

It did register in his mind (but for a moment and nothing more) that maybe it was because he wanted to prove his father wrong-- that Frostpaw was far from evil, far from being a horrible influence, far from being a lost soul. This could be his way to rebel, quietly, against Rowanheart. It was definitely a motivation that made sense, but Finchpaw didn't think that it was the one sole reason. It must be a whole bunch of them combined. Or maybe, he simply wouldn't know, and it was in his subconscious, hiding from even his sharp mind.

And then, Finchpaw thought again, how maybe his eagerness was fueled by the exhiliration and clarity she brought to his own mind. That alone would cause him to seek her out. And though he could tell, this could end very badly in so many ways, Finchpaw didn't care.

"Thank you, Frostpaw," Finchpaw said quietly, in an earnest, happy mew that he usually reserved just for Firepaw. "Let's hope you still feel that way tomorrow," and with that, his soft smile turned into a more playful, teasing smirk, as he joked about their... interesting dynamic.

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