Quote:
Originally Posted by Raindancer
She watched him steadily, seeing his questions and mulling them over. She cleared her throat, and spoke. She spoke haltingly, her voice shook, and it came out as a raspy whisper--as though she was speaking through gravel.
"S-speaking is...not easy." Silence swallowed thickly, taking a breath before she spoke again. "Only f-for...emergencies." Her voice was so rarely used, that when she spoke every word to hurt like a claw dragging up her throat.
She smiled as Hoot seemed to open up, but closed again just as quickly, like a shrinking flower.
Silence's eyes were clear and bittersweet. She nodded with his words. Yes.
Living alone means no one can hurt you. She tilted her head to the side. But, that leaves a place very cold and kind of..empty. The little cat shrugged. I know everycat who comes must go. Often they do hurt me, whether they mean to or not, but I am always happy they came. If nothing else I learn something. Silence was communicating mostly with her eyes and expressions, now, not sure if the tom could--or cared--to understand her. Then, she smiled softly, blinking at him with warmth in her orange eyes. I'm still glad you're here. Her eyes crinkled Even if you are more hesitant than most.
He asked if she was hungry, and she shook her head. Silence then extended her claws and began to clumsily draw in the dirt. From a very faded memory, she drew a rough twoleg nest. She then rubbed her paw along her throat, trying to mime a collar. She pointed to the drawing. There is a kittypet who wanders in about once a moon, you can go back with her when she comes.
She stood, motioning to the back of the tree with her head. Theres moss back there, we can build you a fresh nest, if you'd like to stay.
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Hoot jumped with surprise when he heard Silence's voice. He had prompted her to use it, but he also expected her to shake her head no, telling him she wouldn't. Her voice sounded weird. It wasn't anything like Hoot had ever heard. Silence's voice sounded like she'd abandoned it in a cave for a couple moons, only recently remembering it and using it. Not only that, but it looked like it hurt. It seemed that the she-cat was swallowing hard to make it feel better. Guilt prickled at Hoot's tan colored pelt. He didn't want Silence to hurt herself. He was just curious.
Trying to seem disinterested, Hoot watched Silence as she let her body tell her story. Her views were different from what Hoot's were. She's wrong, he decided. Silence seemed like a good cat. He still didn't know her. Although his heart was tugging him towards her, tugging him towards a friend, Hoot pulled away. Good cats like the two of them needed to be alone. They needed to be alone or else they'd be tainted by other cats' evil. He'd zoned out for a moment, missing a portion of what Silence was saying, but he'd gotten the gist. He'd understood enough to understand that they weren't as alike as Hoot thought they might have been. She enjoyed company. She wanted the cats who stayed with her to stay longer, to stay forever. Hoot didn't want any part of that. Hoot didn't want strangers and their words and their impossibleness. Hoot wanted isolation and silence. Hoot wanted to be alone. After all, if the young tom was good at anything, he was good at being alone.
Hoot looked away as Silence looked at him with a warmth in her eyes that he'd never seen before. He watched as she etched something in the dirt. At first he couldn't tell what it was, but once she swiped a paw across her throat, he understood what she meant. He nodded, still trying to avoid Silence's orange eyes. Without another word, the tom padded behind the tree and began gathering moss, tearing it with his claws when he needed to. Hoot would leave and return home when it was time, leaving Silence and their time together in this clearing. He'd go home and he'd rest and hunt and mark his territory as if today hadn't even happened.