[bluepaw] && [maplepaw] im not stubborn !

[Emily]

Ribbons of blue, ribbons of green, ribbons of pale gray overlapped one another in a constant pattern, subconsciously creating something of an iridescent cerulean, silver. The surface was dabbed with patches of yellow, each patch of sunlight forcing the river into a collage of reflections.

With clashing ribbons of color, Bluepaw found the local river to be something of mere beauty and refinement - something in which, the particularly small she-cat rarely showed as a trait. Only the cozy, warm den whom she shared with her mentor, ill patients, and mounds of sorted herbs, seemed to calm her into a silent peace. Work there, though tough and sometimes hard to follow through with, was something she simply adored. There was only one thing which was contradictory to this thought: she also held the ambition to become a warrior, which by now was quite impossible, but she planned to speak to their leader otherwise. Bluepaw found it was only fair if Medicine Cat's could also find a place in training schedule, if they wished so.

Bluepaw slipped a small purr of affection as she bantered down the riverbank, occasionally leaping sidewards as to miss the small upward splashes of sparkling water. Often, she was too subdued in other thoughts to notice that she had entirely missed a small title-wave which had splattered her blue-gray pelt quite thoroughly. She didn't mind, and besides with such a scatter-brain mind, the young apprentice could almost be defined as careless, or perhaps carefree.

Bluepaw found herself in full appreciation that she'd been sent off on this particularly warm, bright day to pick for herbs. There was no better day than this one, she imagined, and it was far better than the last time she'd been sent for herbs: it had been pouring rain, dark and damp, but when emergencies called, she had to answer, correct?

Cloudy, ashen green eyes blinked; Bluepaw casually ran through the subjects she had been told to collect: watermint and reeds, which were located close to the riverside. It flustered her sometimes, of why didn't the Medicine Cats themselves go off and get their own herbs, instead of shooing of their own apprentices for the subordinate work? Bluepaw found it understandable if there was a patient in need of assistance and the apprentice was far better off going on an herb run, but something about it simply irked her at times.

Bluepaw tried to flick it away, her whiskers twitching a bit irritably. There was time to waste, time to calm herself at the riverbank, but she certainly did not want to go down into a hurricane mood swing. Mewing softly to herself, Bluepaw cantered down close, fishing her paws into the shallow amount of water, clawing at the moist earth below. Bluepaw lowered her muzzle, her nose twitching and whiskers flaring, slowly working her way around to the reeds.

Perhaps there was another way, easier than this. And watermint, where in the world was she going to depict the watermint from the other waterside-growing herbs?

[Slug]

A bitter scent filled the air, followed by a breathless train of colorful cursing. Trudging through the undergrowth, Maplepaw in all his raging, tabby glory, was on a warpath; mouse bile clung to his brown pelt like a starving leech, his nose wrinkling and his his sea-green eyes squinting at the overly-disgruntling smell of vermin juice and other... nice things.

"Strike one was spilling the mousebile." He curled his lip. "Strike two was Icetail finding out." His trotting turned to marching as he ventured closer to the river, stomping as loud as possible. "Now I have to get wet. Nnrgh! It isn't fair-- it wasn't my fault." Maplepaw snapped at the air, daring it to say something.

Instead, a innocent, upturned tree root decided to trip him.

A loud smack! echoed through the forest, Maplepaw tumbling face-first into said owner of the tree root, bark meeting face. Ouch. He let out a startling, high girly shriek, rubbing at his smarted muzzle frantically. "Fox-dung!!" He yowled, backpedaling away from the oak so quickly, one would think the tree had burned him. More colorful curses was returned in reply, going from low, hissing tones, to rabid snarling that could make dogs proud.

Suddenly, he composed himself, sticking his nose in the air haughtily. No bloody tree would best him! With a huff, Maplepaw began to gnaw on the tree root that had oh-so-masterfully tripped him. He was fed up with this tree root. Tree root go buh bye. And it did, ripping the thing from the very ground, he strutted proudly to the river, the splintered root dangling from his maw.

Well, Maplepaw certainly showed it. How manly. Picking on a poor defenseless tree root. The pride in him abruptly seeped away, leaving a surprised, but still angry Maplepaw in it's wake. What the dirt? A... a...

Streamclanner?

[Emily]

Bluepaw, still prodding through the reeds unmercifully, had her body half subdued in the iridescent waves. There was something she simply couldn't place her thumb on about the reeds, something in which placed herself in the position of practically wrapping her entire jaw around them, clenching them hard and trying to uproot them from their place. Of course, the small she-cat had never identified that perhaps the mud was keeping them in their place. No, instead she pressed on with such a determined hotness, her expression was nearly irreplaceable.

"Come on, weeds... why won't you come," Bluepaw began, slightly frustrated, but continuing to show a bit of optimistic charisma throughout her course. Still tugging, her jaw clearly defined with sharp points (which you'd expect, she'd be in pain at one point), she gave one last determined tug until the reed shifted in place, freeing itself only just. For Bluepaw, this was complete glory. The small she-cat was so easily deceived by the small things in life, all too manic for the very least things of importance. Perhaps it was some sort of unnatural occurrence, but more than likely a 'defect' from her quixotic personality.

A breathless string of cursing sent Bluepaw into complete bewilderment. Her head snapped up, and her elongated, mottled tail began to swing from side to side with hesitant rhythm. She wasn't sure what to think, save that the poor tom was certainly looking to be a handful. One thing was for sure, he smelled awful.

A meadowclanner, perhaps?

"You alright?" Bluepaw called, wrinkling her nose in clear disgust of his differing scent. "I'm Bluepaw, who're you? You're a meadowclanner aren't you? Hey, wait a minute... what are you doing down here?" she blurted, her eyes wide and glimmering. Certainly he wasn't a medicine cat's apprentice, right?

[Slug]

"You alright?"

"Do I look alright to you?" Maplepaw snapped, lip curling back in a soundless snarl as she gave him a disgusted look. "Don't look at me like that." He added, exasperated, then more sternly "Don't ever look at me like that." Maplepaw whispered, glaring daggers at Bluepaw. It bothered Maplepaw when a cat stared at him for too long. But that was not the case this time. He had received looks like that before and it made him... feel vulnerable. An emotion that was not worth his time. As a matter of fact, emotions themselves were not worth anything at all. They were mearly masks for games.

His games...

"I'm Bluepaw, who're you?"

Maplepaw blinked at the sudden surge of angry, bitter thoughts that poked and prodded feverishly at his mind and gave a the she-cat a look that dripped with hatred, as if blaming her for the abrupt onslaught of giggling whispers in his brain. "I am Maplepaw," He said his face twitching with annoyance. "Medicine cat apprentice of Meadowclan." He stated more boldly. Haughtily.

"Hey, wait a minute... what are you doing down here?"

"It's quite obvious as to why I am bothering to travel to such a Starclan forsaken place." He growled through his teeth, baring them at her in a threateningly. "And if you were smart, you'd leave me be." Maplepaw eyes flashed with utter determination. That should keep the she-cat off his back for a while. With a sniff, Maplepaw strode confidently into the edge of the river, still as a statue as he let the natural flow of the colorful waters wash away the mouse bile.

[Emily]

"Well excuse me for asking," she snapped back all too hotly, her ears pressed back and her jaw jutting outwards defiantly. Of course, it was just her luck to come across a rude, ignorant apprentice as himself. There was something, something in which the small she-cat tagged him to be- not angry or snappy or cold, but almost under the pressure of the spotlight as she unhesitatingly drove him into a spiral of questions, and an uncanny stare.

Perhaps this awkward situation was caused be either the two's troublesomely high volume of stubbornness, or the impression Bluepaw received from the tom: vulnerability.

"Maplepaw, huh?" Bluepaw replied briskly, her voice growing shrill with a seed of resentment; the haughty little tom, going about and quite rudely, giving Bluepaw a taste of his mind. Well, she intended to give him a bit of her own mind, herself. Giving a swift lick to her chest, Bluepaw continued to stare at him unblinkingly. If that was what caused him such an insecurity and doubt, than that was exactly what she intended to give him.

If it hadn't been for those stubborn reeds, than the short tempered she-cat might not have been in such a wretched mood. Maplepaw had quite frankly deserved each spoonful of resentment Bluepaw dished out to him, though it was not so particularly his own fault at sake either.

Medicine Cat Apprentice? Bluepaw found that extremely hard to believe, and almost found herself in full denial. And here she had been bantering about, fully confident with herself that he was indeed, not a medicine cat's apprentice; Bluepaw had been proud to say that there were no worries in disrupting the cats whom she fully respected, and now, here she stood, finding herself coming off entirely disrespectful to her 'clan-mate'.

"Funny," she began softly, her temper lowering almost as quickly as it had arisen. "Quite frankly, I'm the medicine cat apprentice for StreamClan. Fancy meeting a, um, fellow medic around here." Though her voice was calm, a bit hesitant, her mind thought quite otherwise- swirling down a tendril of unnecessary thoughts of the spiteful tom. Somehow, it had convinced Bluepaw somewhat that he might have been an old retired elder, disguised as a young apprentice. His grouchy demeanor held nothing excitable for Bluepaw, and yet she still found herself prancing at his heels and wanting more to question on. It was something of her own quirky nature; there was no easy cure.

[Slug]

"Well excuse me for asking."

Without missing a beat Maplepaw said "You're excused for now." and refrained from looking over his shoulder at the she-cat, fangs gritting as he felt Bluepaw stare at his back. He was better than this-- than her. He shouldn't be bothered by such childish actions from she-cat, let alone anyone else.... But damnit, Maplepaw was.

And the fact that Bluepaw could get under his skin like that only irked him and then some.

"Maplepaw, huh?"

"Did I stutter?" He asked calmly-- smoothly, willing himself to give one glance over his shoulder at the Streamclanner. Then he finally turned around, wading with as much dignity as possible from the river, head high and nose in the air as he looked down at the she-cat.

She was still staring?

"If I had known better, Bluepaw, I would suspect you have the hots for me." Maplepaw said plainly, not batting an eye. He was too busy locked in a staring contest with her to really notice what he had just said. Not he cared either way, of course.

"Funny," Bluepaw started. "Quite frankly, I'm the medicine cat apprentice for Streamclan. Fancy meeting a, um, fellow medic around here."

Hmming, Maplepaw moved his gaze skyward, eyes unblinking as he stared at the sun, water dripping quietly from his fur as he study the great, fiery orb in the sky. After a few moments of silence, the Meadowclanner returned his attention to Bluepaw, eyes probing-- searching for something. "How... nice." He stated bitterly. "Let's all just chat it up with an enemy and see who gets caught first." Maplepaw was babbling, he knew it, but he needed to say something. The bad taste in his mouth wasn't leaving, and he was starting to think it was all in his imagination.

...Fox-dung.

[Emily]

Arrogant.
The word alone seemed to describe the bashful tom, and Bluepaw could simply not bring herself to primly walking off, and entirely ignoring his retorts all together. Even the thought of doing so caused the small she-cat to send a chill down her spine. Perhaps, the tom just needed a little something to quiet himself.

"Honestly, what died up there?" Bluepaw muttered beneath her breath, her tail flicking irritably. Genuinely, she would've been a lot less hot tempered, had it not been this particular medicine apprentice. And even still, if Bluepaw had not gotten into a whirlwind of bad moods, than she found herself obliged to continue pestering Maplepaw heavily. He deserved little else from the she-cat, and certainly nothing more.

Grinning spiteful of herself, Bluepaw continued her indefinite staring round -- her blue gaze was glued to Maplepaw -- and she had no intention of letting it falter. Though his words were somewhat hurtful, she was not so weak to be all too wounded. The feline's outgoing, oblivious, and curious nature kept her energized throughout their entire encounter.

Have the hots for him?
At this, Bluepaw might have launched herself full-out and tackled the tom. This, this was going a step too far. And yet, she maintained her bittersweet smile and continued to allow her tail to flit to and fro, and however hard it wanted to speed to a mile a minute whiplash, it wouldn't.

"I've been thinking the same thing. Ya know, how you keep trying to walk away, but keep on coming back," she replied swiftly - smoothly, her voice low key. "If it hadn't been for your arrogant approach, than perhaps I might have come off as a friend. Aren't medicine cats supposed to, at times?" Drawing her ears back, Bluepaw resisted the urge to snap at Maplepaw, and clamped her mouth tightly.