[sleepyyjax]

Newtbelly he/him | 22 moons
Agatha Kitty, Shadow Fiend, Killer Aptitude T1

Respect. That was what he held for Owlthroat. Always had, of course, but seeing him fight, watching every decision - watching the blood spray from his mouth, it only deepened. It was nice to know he hadn't gone soft. The appearance of a mate and kits had left him a tiny bit worried. He couldn't say the same for the younger warrior. Claws still dug deep into the ground as he sat and observed, though his anger was gradually dying down to a tolerable level.

Ha. A nose touch? That showed the maturity difference between himself and Owlthroat, he supposed. Newtbelly knew if that was him he would've simply fled into the territory. The myriad of faces, of judgement, he couldn't face it. But, then again, Owlthroat could stand his own ground. The same couldn't be said for himself. Was he strong? Sure. Experienced? No. Ugh. Enough about him. His tail batted the ground in irritation as he dwelled on his insecurities. How he would've loved to see that tom torn to shreds. Alas, he knew it was immature. He must have a reason for challenging Owlthroat. Something had to have happened. Something to do with that scratch across his nose. Anything.

Now came the time to speak. He couldn't say nothing. But he couldn't display too much of this emotion, lest he embarrass himself (and everyone else). Flytail was... Well, Flytail was being very Flytail. It looked like a clear draw to Newtbelly - though he wished it hadn't been. Tuftedtusk made his opinion known, of course. Despite how much Newtbelly hated all that sappy stuff, he had to admit the two enforcers looked pretty cool together. Perhaps the point of having a mate was not to 'look cool' together, but that's the only appeal Newtbelly could see in it. He was glad Owlthroat hadn't gone for some shrimpy loser cat.
Anyway. Yes, his opinion. He still disliked having too much attention when speaking (when he was showing off, well, that was a different story). But this was important. "Owlthroat," he began through gritted teeth, though any upset in his tone was muted. When he continued to talk, his jaw unclenched, teeth no longer gritted as a result of him trying his hardest to hide any feelings of anger. "Is constantly proving himself worthy. There is no need to demote a perfectly good enforcer." An eye darted to Rookfire as he said that. He supposed that had happened to him, hadn't it? Omen or no omen, he was also a perfectly good enforcer, just unfortunate with this whole medicine cat thing. It reminded Newtbelly just how much he wanted to stay away from herbs and medicine - he'd already shown Sleepysunrise his incompetency in that area - and definitely far far away from that wishy washy Starclan stuff. Irrelevent, though. He couldn't stand to work with him after this. Despite how unbothered Owlthroat seemed, Newtbelly couldn't bring himself to respect anyone who challenged a more seasoned warrior. It had been the same with Foggymask, though it was exemplified when the warrior in question was Owlthroat. Perhaps he'd get over it with time. But that didn't feel likely at the moment.

The urge to jump in and swap his own rank for the older tom's was strong. But he doubted Hawkbite would allow something like that. And what would Owlthroat think of him for stepping down, for devaluing himself? If Owlthroat wasn't proud of him, who the hell was there?