Private Thread Fairweather Friends

I’d rather bear the weight of others than let others carry pain alone.

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Basilflame had been padding softly through the thin patches of undergrowth, every sense attuned to the faint rustling sound of potential prey, though she didn't hold very high hopes at the moment, as she hadn't even seen a mouse scurry past in the whole time she had been out here.

Leafbare had laid its cold grip upon WindClan territory, and with each passing day, prey seemed to grow scarcer, making each morsel more and more precious. The flame lynx point she-cat lifted her head and paused, tasting the air with a slight frown. Her focus shifted from hunger when she noticed the slightest hint of movement along the border, an unfamiliar silhouette standing out against the windswept moorland.

Basilflame stepped closer, she had recognized the pelt from a description given to her, and the rest of overhearing warriors by Cloudflare, though she hadn't heard much of a name. His thin frame and purposeful stride revealing a quiet, hardened resolve that struck a chord within her. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she approached, her hazel eyes calm and gentle as they settled on him.

"Hello there" Basilflame greeted, her tone warm and polite despite the chill in the air, if this was a situation where this cat intended on trespassing, Basilflame didn't want to make things harder for herself by causing unnecessary battle. "It's... quite cold out, isn't it?"

She hesitated for a brief moment, nothing the weariness in his stance "Are you passing through? Or is there something you're searching for? It is leafbare, after all" she spoke softly, she hoped she didn't seem to pushy in any way, but it would have eaten away at her if she had walked away and let the outside walk away with pride that he effortlessly trespassed.

"If you're looking for shelter..." Her gaze softened, recognizing his evident need. "If you'd like I could guide you towards the edges of our territory, just close enough to catch the scent of some nearby shelter" She meowed, trying to seem helpful but her shuffling paws betrayed her nerves. "There's an old barn a bit further out, if I'm not mistake. You'll be able to find some warmth and perhaps even a trace of prey there" she spoke quietly making her offer warily

 "I know leaf-bare isn’t kind to any of us."

She held his gaze for a moment longer, hoping her kindness would reach him without appearing overbearing. She knew well enough that some cats weren’t keen on accepting help, and she respected his independence, even if she couldn’t bring herself to ignore a fellow cat in need.

A little bit of elegance never goes out of style
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Monty lifted his head at the voice, ears pricking as he noted the flame-tipped she-cat approaching with a calm, measured gait. His amber eyes studied her for a moment, catching the careful warmth in her gaze and the slight shuffling of her paws that betrayed her nerves.

“Hello to you, Madam” He dipped his head politely, his voice carrying the soft lilt of practiced courtesy. “Cold seeps right into your bones if you’re out here too long.” He couldn’t hide the weariness in his tone, his shoulders slightly drooped from days of travel.

Her offer of directions to the barn struck him as both kind and cautious, and he found himself grateful for her tact. There was no pride left in him to keep up appearances or feign strength when his bones ached from the wind and his belly growled.

“Thank you, truly..." Monty's voice softened by a sincerity that felt strange on his tongue.“The barn’s what I was aiming for - heard it might offer a bit of warmth, and anything edible at this point would be a fine thing.”He glanced down, as though suddenly aware of his own thinness, before meeting her gaze again, his amber eyes flickering with a faint but genuine gratitude. “I’m Monty. I don’t mean to trouble WindClan, only to make it through leafbare with my tail intact.” He gave it a flick, its kinked end twitching.

With a small, grateful dip of his head he added. “Thank you for the guidance. It's a rare gem indeed that shines the brightest.”

I’d rather bear the weight of others than let others carry pain alone.

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Basilflame's eyes softened at Monty's polite gratitude, her heart stirred by the genuine weariness she saw in him. Though she was fascinated by this cat regardless. It was far too easy to forget how hard leafbare could be on those with nobody else with them to rely on, and something about his polite demeanor tugged at her natural empathy.

"Oh it's no trouble at all, Monty" She replied, her tone gentle and light "My name is Basilflame" she added, her tone becoming one of warmth and sincerity. "The barn has been a refuge for more than a few travelers. You'll find it's sheltered and, if luck favors you, perhaps a bit of warmth left from the sun."

Her flame-tipped tail flicked gently behind her as she took a step closer, she lowered her voice in case any curious clanmates were scouting nearby. This cat wasn't being abrasive or in any way intrusive on WindClan territory, so Basilflame didn't see why he had to be chased off just yet. "We all have out struggles in leafbare, and... well, every cat deserves a little grace when times are this tough."

The long-furred she-cat paused, studying the burmese tom a moment longer, noting the faint sag in his shoulders and the way he held himself with practiced dignity despite his apparent exhaustions. It was quite admirable really, and Basilflame really wanted to help his situation more if she was able to.

"Monty, if you're in need, I could bring you a bit of fresh-kill to the barn tomorrow morning. No one has to know." Her voice was as soft as the wind itself, her offer made with a quiet reassurance. "Just think of it as... on cat lending a paw to another in need"

A little bit of elegance never goes out of style
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Monty’s eyes brightened slightly, a flicker of surprise warming his weary features as he listened to Basilflame’s gentle offer. He hadn’t expected such generosity, least of all from a warrior at a border where tensions usually ran high. It was a rare sincerity, and for a moment, he was at a loss for words, feeling his practiced eloquence slip.

“Basilflame...” The fawn sepia tom let her name settle on his tongue with quiet respect. “It’s a fitting name, warm as it sounds.” He gave a soft chuckle, his tail giving a small flick. “If I were a poet, I might say - 'When hunger’s ache and cold are near, your voice becomes a hearth to hear.' ”

There was a trace of something akin to pride in his gaze, but it softened as he met her eyes. “A hearth is the floor of a fireplace, usually of stone or brick that traps a small, warm fire..." He added with a brisk clearing of his throat, wondering if he knew of what he spoke of. " And if there’s ever a time I can return the favor, I’ll do so gladly.” He paused, glancing back toward the direction of the barn. Then, with a gentle nod, Monty turned, taking a few steps in the direction of his refuge before glancing back. “Shall you be my escort, then, Basilflame? ” His tone was light, with a hint of gratitude that needed no more words.