Like Real People Do [closed]

Thick tendrils of steam hung heavily in the twisting rapids of the Gorge, a pale blanket of dampness that effectively concealed the snowflakes and half-frozen ice that had previously pelted down from the dreary grey sky. The somber atmosphere of the falls was plagued with the constant low-rumbling of high-flowing currents; the roar and howl of quick-moving waters ringing out sharply, dark waters spilling and frothing hungrily at the ice encrusted mud of its crumbling riverbanks. Although the rest of the river was continuously plagued with a blanket of ice during this time of the season, the several tail-lengths of river just before the Gorge was much too turbulent and quick-moving to ever freeze over entirely. It was very unlikely that any WindClan cats would've tried their luck with pushing the borders, considering how effective the river was when it came to deescalating any sort of conflict, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. Hardly any cat felt like dealing with any more border disputes than necessary during this time of year.

Brushing through the prickly and decaying grasses that congregated together in pitiful little clumps, Nettlesplash made certain to keep several tail-lengths of distance between himself and the sharp slope of the riverbank, unfortunately aware of the risk of concealed ice and snow. The last way he was hoping to spend his afternoon was to find himself floundering in the current just before the sharp drop of the Gorge. Resisting a shiver at the thought of plunging over the Gorge and to a watery grave below, the massive tom simply continued on his little stroll.

Minnowpaw was out hunting, like she always did in solutude. It was very rare for her to be seen on a patrol with another cat. Even though Minnowpaw was quite social. The silver tabby she-cat hopped up to the gorge. This way she wouldn't have to deal with any cat but Windclan but no cat of a right mind would even be at the gorge anyways.

Well Minnowpaw was wrong.

Minnowpaw saw Nettlesplash strolling along the riverbank. Minnowpaw was a bit dissapointed that there was a cat up here instead of her being alone. But here he was. Minnowpaw just stared at him. She simply sighed after a minute of staring. She could still get hunting done. Just with a cat near by. The splash of the water made her turn. Minnowpaw ran over to see a good looking fish swim by. Minnowpaw crouched down putting down all her weight. She had to catch this fish!

The uneven, partially frozen mess of mud below Nettlesplash's paws occasionally grew wet, rogue ripples or bursts of the fast-moving current shuddering its way atop the lip of the river, the chilly froth bubbling up eagerly. The stiff breeze, made choppy and weak by the scraggly collection of wilting foliage that clung to the cold ground, only served to intensify the cloying scent of mixed Clan markers and damp plants. The unpleasant mixture of broken pieces of neighboring ice and stones overturned by the constant flow of the river stuck up from the ground, sending the occasional pinprick of discomfort radiating in his paws.

The sound of pawsteps against the ice, while nearly silent against the rancorous backdrop of the Gorge, quickly caught his attention.

Twisting around to gaze at whoever was approaching the Gorge, Nettlesplash was greeted by the sight of Minnowpaw; although they were nothing more than casual Clanmates with the barest minimum of knowledge about one-another, he was quite familiar with her adoptive mother and littermates. Pausing to watch the young Apprentice for another heartbeat or so, the red-furred tom's whiskers twitched in an outward display of curiosity. "You know," He began casually, voice uninhibited but friendly enough, "I don't think Ivyfeather would be too happy about you hanging out by the Gorge all alone, especially with all of the other Clans talking about rogues being found in their territories."

Minnowpaw perked up to see that Nettlesplash was talking to her. "Rouges aren't the biggest of my concerns. Hunting is. Ivyfeather wouldn't mind if I brought back prey to feed the clan. Now if you excuse me I'm going to hunt. On this cold stone ground." Said Minnowpaw. She said cold stone ground, because she didn't know she was on ice. She figured stone bordered the water like sand did.

The watery early morning sunlight sparked sharply against the vibrant red of Nettlesplash's coat, bathing the massive tom in varying hues of vibrant reds and golds that stuck out sorely against the dreary grey dampness of the Gorge. Jaws splitting into a surprisingly wide yawn, which made the healed scar atop his upper lip stretch unpleasantly, the long-furred tom reluctantly tried to force away the lingering drowsiness in his system. A singular amber eye opened a fraction at the faint sound of scuffling paws hurrying by, nose wrinkling in dry amusement at Minnowpaw's rebuttal. "I suppose you're right," He conceded after a few moments, the low rumble of the quick-moving waters nearly drowning out the light conversation, "But you won't be able to get much hunting done if you land yourself in the Medicine Cat's den. Whether that be through encountering rogues, or-"

Nettlesplash paused, lifting a big forepaw to point at the delicate shelf of ice that Minnowpaw was currently settled upon; precariously thin and a little bit too close to the riverbank for comfort, although hardly visible due to the thick slush of snow that was currently blanketing the ground. "- because that ice you're sitting on gave out and you slid into the water."

Minnowpaw jumped up and scrambled off of the ice. "Starclan I was sitting on ice?!" Exclaimed Minnowpaw. "Thanks for telling me Nettlesplash. I could've been a frozen fish if I stayed on that ice!"

Dropping his significant weight down onto his haunches with enough force to crack the glistening sheen of ice that the pair were currently standing atop, Nettlesplash couldn't help but snort out a steaming laugh at Minnowpaw's lurching reaction. "Fortunately for you," The red-furred tom began after working the worst of the amused simper that curled tight within the muscles of his mouth, "I've fallen through the ice enough times that I consider myself to be the expert of all things related to slipping and falling." Giving himself a rigorous shake to force away the cruel touch of icy dampness that currently wracked through the tender underside of his belly, the tom redirected his attention to the precarious rapids before the pair.

"I don't know what would be worse; slipping into the water and getting washed over the Gorge," Nettlesplash mused after a careful moment of thought, evidently appalled by the fabricated situation, "or somehow surviving and ending up in WindClan's territory of all places in the forest."

Minnowpaw frowned at the ginger tom. She let out a giggle when he said the next thing after his rigourus shake. "I'd much rather get washed over the gorge then end up in Windclan. I do not want anyone to have my pelt for that." She said lying down on the grass. It was kind of nice to be talking to someone and joking around. Minnowpaw didn't know when she did that before that day.

Nettlesplash couldn't help but snort in agreement, entire being prickling at thought of winding up so terribly far from the comfort of their section of the river. The idea of getting thrown over the Gorge, which was equivalent to certain death in nearly all known cases, was hardly as disconcerting as the idea of ending up in the presence of the moor-dwellers; they were small and skinny, with cruel eyes and hooked muzzles. Their hearts were just as cold as the winds that they loved so!

"Me too," He agreed after a moment of unpleasant thought, unable to resist the secondary shudder that worked through his frame like some sort of innate reflex, "Although I think I'd rather not get washed over the Gorge at all, if given a choice." The big tom's gaze flicked between the frothing rapids and Minnowpaw for a brief moment, mouth curling into a wry smile. "But I think if, given the chance of getting washed into any other Clan's territory, I'd go for SkyClan- they're like a less annoying ThunderClan, but at least they're less strange than ShadowClan or WindClan."

Minnowpaw nodded in agreement! "Ya! I bet ya their so good at jumping swimmying for them wouldn't be as hard as it is for Thunderclan." Said Minnowpaw.

Angular features knitting together into an unbecoming expression of both amusement and horror at the mental image born at Minnowpaw's words, Nettlesplash couldn't but flash his tongue and teeth in a grimace. Although he hardly bore SkyClan any resentment- at least, nothing akin to his absolute disdain for ThunderClan -it was quite bizarre to think of slinking and scrawny SkyClanners attempting to do anything but getting washed right off of their paws by even the slowest moving currents. He'd seen kits that likely weigh more than most grown SkyClan cats. "The sun will likely go dark before that ever happens!" He huffed, shaking his head slightly, "But who knows- considering we're both not the greatest at watching where we set our paws, maybe after we both somehow get washed into SkyClan's territory we can start offering up some swimming lessons?"

"Yeah lets just hope they listen." Minnowpaw said.