haha nerd | invite, king

Nightfoot felt a purr rise through their throat. This was absolutely wonderful. They took a few steps closer, eyes still fixed on Rowanpelt, surveying his predicament.

"I don't know what you plan to accomplish talking to me like that," they said, amber eyes now narrowed, still bright with amusement. Their tail flicked listlessly behind them as they began to round a circle around their clanmate. They could barely feel the rain on their pelt anymore, so focused on this debacle. "Tell me, how does a warrior manage to find himself stuck in a puddle of mud? Why should I help a grown tom that can't handle his own territory with just a bit of rain?"

Nightfoot finally settled, lowering onto their haunches to sit a few mouselengths away from Rowanpelt. They watched him with their chin slightly raised, a hint of their teeth visible. "Tell me, Rowanpelt."

Nightfoot snorted, rolling their eyes at Rowanpelt before them.

"You're highly overestimating how much I care for you - which is to say, not at all." They licked a paw and began to wash their face, "I could leave you and no one would know I saw you, and you would wait and be embarrassed by a patrol or be stuck alone here, starving. Dying."

They paused from their cleaning, one paw still held up, as they continued, "But I might help you." They ran their tongue over their small, sharp teeth and settled back onto all their paws. The mischievous shine had returned to their eyes. "If you tell me how this happened and asked me nicely. Very nicely. Tell me how much you need my help and how glad you are to know me and how pleased you are that I happened across you, instead of another cat." Their demand was accented by a purr.

"And then I may just help you."

Nightfoot clicked their tongue and narrowed their eyes, unflinching at the thunder and lightning around them, "Now that won't do at all." They got up from their paws and completed another half circle around Rowanpelt, careful of where they stepped. They could see that he was breathing heavily, though they weren't sure if it was from his outburst, exhaustion from fighting against the mud, or a combination of both.

Nightfoot was getting bored of the rain dampening their pelt, but they weren't quite finished teasing the tom. Another boom of thunder echoed around them, less sudden than the one just before it, though it continued on as a low rumble while thin trails of lightning danced across the sky. Nightfoot's purr was lost in the weather's roar; they had realized another point of leverage.

"Maybe you'll drown before you're found again, if this rain keeps up. Or maybe you're too scared of the thunder to care about that." Nightfoot began to step away, "It's a shame too; I really was going to help you, until you had to act like such a kit about it." They offered Rowanpelt a quick glare before turning away from him, taking very slow steps away from the spot where he was trapped.

"Guess you didn't want my help after all," they sung. Their movement was still very slow and deliberate, thought Nightfoot no longer turned back toward Rowanpelt, their tail drifting behind them.

Their ears twitched in Rowanpelt's direction, and Nightfoot came to a halt, slowly turning to face the tom once again. They flicked some of the rain off their paws, slinking back toward Rowanpelt.

"Well, that's still not really what I wanted," they mewed in a whine. They turned their head to the side, eyes wide in mock pity and disappointment. "But I guess it will have to do for now."

Nightfoot stepped away once more, wondering if their ...friend would panic at the sight again. They only moved a little more than a tail-length away before finding what they were looking for. A stick, thick enough not to break with some tension and long enough to distribute some weight.

Picking it up between their teeth, Nightfoot was careful not to get any mud on their muzzle. They traipsed back to Rowanpelt, head held high to keep their paws a comfortable distance from the branch so as not to trip, and indicated for him to bite down on the other end.

Rowanpelt clearly didn't realize when to shut up.

Nightfoot promptly took their mouth off the stick, letting the warrior sink back into the mud and lose the progress that he had made. "You know," they said, "it might actually be too hard for me. Too hard to see that smug look on your face." They sat down in front of him and glowered, paws neatly tucked in with their tail. "You're not very bright. This is why you aren't going to get anywhere in ShadowClan, Rowanpelt." They shook their head, "This is no way to treat someone trying to help you. Are we really going back to where we started, because StarClan couldn't bless you with any brains in that skull of yours?"

There was no way that Nightfoot could have heard that correctly. They stared at Rowanpelt, eyes wide, and let out a shrill yowl of laughter. Had he actually apologized? This was too great. They had never, in a million moons, expected to hear those words from that mouth. There was a better chance of lightning striking where they stood (though it seemed it just might if the sky continued as it had been.)

"I can't believe -" Nightfoot shook their head, teeth bared up to their gums, "I can't believe you actually said that. Glad to see you're finally getting some sense in that fuzzy head. To think you just needed the threat of death, all this time." They leaned down to pick up the stick again, pausing before closing their jaws around it. "Maybe I should keep that in mind."

This time, Nightfoot dragged Rowanpelt out without any fuss.