Private Thread Not You Again...

Survival demands caution, but greatness requires daring
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  Kosmo watched Aspenberry from a distance, his mismatched eyes catching the pale shape as she moved gracefully through the field. He hadn’t planned on being near Windclan territory today, but fate had a habit of throwing unexpected meetings his way. The crisp wind tugged at his pelt, but his attention was solely on her. There was something about the way she moved - intentional yet unhurried - that stirred a sense of familiarity in him.

He remembered the hawk, the fierce battle they had fought together, and the farmhouse where he'd shared catnip with her. The memory brought a faint, almost fond smile to his lips. Aspenberry was different, and he couldn’t help but admire the way she balanced her sense of duty with a quiet curiosity. They had crossed paths more than once now, and while Kosmo kept most of his life a mystery, he found himself wanting to learn more about hers.

As she slowed her steps, watching a butterfly flit by with gentle inquiry, Kosmo saw an opportunity to make his presence known. He padded forward, deliberately letting his paws fall softer than usual. The wind carried his scent toward her, and he could tell the moment she caught it.

"Fancy seeing you out here." Kosmo said, his voice warm as he closed the distance between them, stopping a few paces away. His eyes lingered on her, taking in the familiar outline of the cat who had, in some way, begun to grow on him. "I prefer seeing you chase after butterflies instead of hawks."

There was a softness in his tone, an easy familiarity that hadn’t been there before. Kosmo wasn’t one to let his guard down, but around Aspenberry, it felt less like a choice and more like a natural occurrence. Or perhaps that was what he just wanted her to believe.

'I am yet to understand my place in this world, but with you by my side, I know things just might be alright'
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Immersed in watching the flitting wings of the small creature, the familiar scent of Kosmo was late to her her nose, the same instance his gentle steps touched her ears. With a head tilt, she let the butterfly continue on, surprised to see Kosmo once again. 'How is it that each moon we happen to stumble across each other?' A faint smile creased her face. It was odd, greeting Kosmo like this. It was the first time both cats were in completely neutral setting, injury and danger free. 'I guess you could say today's circumstances are a little more desirable then what we've experienced before.' she added in response to Kosmo's statement of him preferring her to chase butterflies. She took a few steps closer, returning his greeting with a gentle head bump on his shoulder, which wasn't too hard to reach considering his size. 

Compared to other times, Kosmo seemed to be more relaxed, his manner sweeter, something Aspenberry could appreciate in the moment. 'What brings you over to this area? I mean you could say the same for myself, but you seem like a cat that could be anywhere, at anytime.' She gazed at him curiously. He seemed much the same other than his warmer demeanor. She turned back, disappointed that her butterfly was now long gone, before taking a few steps and burshing past Kosmo. While a more odd way to make an indication, it was an indication to follow her nonetheless. She wouldn't pick one thing over the other. If she wanted to talk to Kosmo, then he would have to come with her on her adventures too. Not that they would be overly interesting, for all she could see ahead was more field land. 'How has life been fairing? I hope the barn cats are well. Ghost, was it? She seemed nice. I don't really understand all the hostility against those from outside the clans. We are not that different, merely more than living things within a wider world.' It was, perhaps, an odd thing for a deputy of a clan too say, but Aspenberry knew where she stood, influenced by only herself, and perhaps the outsider she walked beside. As she walked, she turned to look at him once more, not really for any particular reason, maybe just so she could try figure him out a little more, for she knew this can held many layers. She could see it within his gaze, and sense it in the air around him. Sometimes Aspenberry just knew these things, but it was never enough, she wanted to know it all.

Or, perhaps it was just an excuse to look, for the way the patterns and features of his build combined together was certainly something she didn't mind. 

Survival demands caution, but greatness requires daring
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  Kosmo felt the warmth of Aspenberry’s head bump against his shoulder, but he didn’t let himself relax into the moment fully. His mismatched eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of something deeper crossing his gaze. He was growing used to her presence - maybe a bit too used to it. For a cat who kept secrets close, letting someone in, even just a little, came with its risks. But here she was again, unknowingly pulling him along, and against his better judgment, he followed.

"Exciting, maybe." He murmured, his voice quieter now, as though weighing the memory of the hawk against something else. "But not everything dangerous is worth chasing."

As she brushed past him, signaling him to follow, he hesitated for a heartbeat before padding after her, his pawsteps cautious. This felt different. No battle, no injuries, just... conversation. And that’s what put him on edge. Still, Aspenberry's easy curiosity tugged at something inside him, something that reminded him of what a group of close knit cats might feel like. Of what he was missing.

When she brought up Ghost and the hostility between clan and outsider, his eyes darkened, and his voice took on a smooth, deep tone. "You’re right. We’re not so different. But you know how it goes. Traditions are just rules passed down by dead cats. And grudges? They get passed down with them, like fleas you never asked for." He let the words settle in the air, his gaze briefly locking with hers, the sharpness momentarily softening around the edges.

Kosmo wasn’t in the mood to delve too deeply into that side of himself, not yet, but maybe he could be persuaded. "Life moves forward." He said after a pause, deflecting. "The barn cats are... managing. Leaf-bare is in the air. I've made sure they won't be wanting when it comes to herbs. I suspect it will be enough, but I feel this season will be a cold one."

He followed the ghostly shape of their spotted pelt, his own toasted cinnamon frame lurking slightly behind, allowing her to take the lead this time. His maw touched on a smile. "I'm where I need to be, even if every step is a mystery. There's probably some purpose to it, right? I've been getting in touch with my roots. I've been closer to Riverclan as of late." He gave a shrug, as if dismissing his own admission, and his mismatched eyes flicked back to Aspenberry, unblinking.

"And you?" His voice lightened, but the an accusing lit remained. Why would the deputy of Windclan be so far from home?

'I am yet to understand my place in this world, but with you by my side, I know things just might be alright'
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'Maybe not worth chasing.. but at least worth an investigation. By my standards at least. I want to experience everything this world has to offer, the good and the bad.' She trailed on forward, her steps chosen an precise, despite having no direct destination in mind. Her attention was now back on her surroundings, Kosmo merely a breathing object beside her. She wanted to take it all in; the smells, the sights. It wasn't much, but the further she went, the less familiar the sights became. Her path followed along a safe distance from the gorge, its water much calmer compared to the perilous chasm beside RiverClan. 

Grudges and traditions. Aspenberry hated how conservative the clans were sometimes, but she could understand why they lived so tightly bound to the code. There was a reason these four groups had lasted for so many moons, and many fear that change may send them burning to the ground. Aspenberry didn't believe that. While simple traditions were nice, like the ceremony of an apprentice, or the naming of newborns, the clans lasted because of the cats themselves, the life they contained and their spirit to keep living. 'You know, you are lucky you live closer to WindClan rather than some of the others. Fawnstar leads us in our ancestor's pawsteps, but I have seen the way my clanmates act. We have a deeper understanding, or perhaps respect for those who live outside out clans. Maybe not everyone thinks the same way, but I know I hope to slowly guide my loved ones down the path I follow, to a time where we see each other as the same, rather than the enemy.' 

It was clear to her that Kosmo had more he could say on the topic, something in which she knew she could push for if she tried hard enough, but she didn't. While Aspenberry's curiosity always remained strong, she didn't like to push. Things were to be said when the time was right, and that was that. She held her gaze with Kosmo's though, keeping her glance steady. She knew there was more to him, and she wanted to make sure Kosmo knew that. It was good to hear that the barn cats were going well, and she nodded in acknowledgement, but what caught her attention was Kosmo talking about his own roots, and RiverClan. RiverClan would be an easier topic to tackle then that of Kosmo's own history, so she spoke up about that first. 'RiverClan? What has drawn you over there?' Your past? She wanted to ask, but that was for another time. Her pale gaze was trained on the tom, calculated and focused. There were a few things she could ask, a few paths she could go down with this conversation, but she ended up choosing to let Kosmo continue to speak. How much would he say with little to no input from herself? She was curious to see. 

Survival demands caution, but greatness requires daring
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  Kosmo walked beside Aspenberry, his gaze flickering over the unfamiliar landscape. A vast, open field that seemed to stretch on for miles, and they likely did. Her words echoed in his mind - experience everything this world has to offer - but there was a part of him that remained a bit uncertain. His mismatched eyes shifted to her, watching the way she moved with purpose, even without a clear destination.

Her words about traditions and grudges lingered, sparking a bitter, knowing smile. He wasn't here to debate the virtues of clan life, but he couldn't deny the truth of what he felt. Cats clung to old wounds and customs, and that kind of thinking had a way of shaping everything.

As they walked, the conversation turned to Windclan’s openness compared to the other clans. Kosmo’s ears flicked, absorbing her observations, which seemed to him a bit unfounded, but he said nothing. He could sense her optimism, the hope she had for change within her clan. It was admirable, in a way, but Kosmo wasn’t so sure things were that simple. Change, in his experience, always came at a cost.

Kosmo padded evenly beside her, tail at half length even with his muscular frame. He had expected her to probe deeper into his comment about his roots, but she allowed him to lead the conversation. He could appreciate that - she didn’t push, didn’t pry. Still, he wasn’t sure how much to reveal.

"I was born south of the Riverclan lands." He said, his tone neutral. "So that place is most familiar to me. The farmhouse may be a place for some cats, and no doubt I've been welcome there, but its not my homeland. Feels odd, though, being a wanderer for so long to finally have a home worth returning to." His words were carefully chosen, and while he offered a glimpse into his thoughts, he kept the full picture hidden. His old stomping grounds had drawn him for reasons he wasn’t ready to share - at least not yet.

Kosmo’s pace slowed slightly as he glanced at Aspenberry. Her pale gaze was focused, almost calculating, as if she were trying to read between the lines of what he wasn’t saying. It made him uneasy, but at the same time, there was a part of him that appreciated her curiosity. He turned away from her there with an air of evenness, sighing as he inhaled the briskness of the afternoon.

"You’re quiet." He smirked, his voice softer now, almost teasing. "Planning your next question?" There was a flicker of amusement in his eyes, though it quickly tempered into a fine edge.

'I am yet to understand my place in this world, but with you by my side, I know things just might be alright'
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So, he was born near RiverClan, likely familiar with the clans since birth. It told her... nothing really. Nothing more than that these lands were in fact, where he came from and not something foreign and new. Aspenberry had little interaction with WindClan, especially past their borders, but the thought brought her back to her times in the nursery, and the tales that Rooknose told her and her sister to keep them entertained. 'You know, my father used to tell me stories of a group of dangerous rogues living to the south of RiverClan, led by a large tom akin to a silvery tiger. Piercing blue odd eyes, which perhaps unearthed a hint of insanity. I don't remember much, but perhaps you are a descendant.' A humourous twinkle sparkled in her eyes, as to her, it was merely more than a story her father had told her. 

'Maybe. I'm not one to pry, but I want to pry. My own nature and curiosity conflict each other everyday, but I respect others, unless they are willing to share of course.' Her voice contained a distinct lilt, and she searched for some sort of giveaway in Kosmo's gaze, finding nothing.

The field land seemed to last on forever, a vast ocean of green lacking the natural variety the moors back home contained. There would have to be an end at some point, surely, but before she could even consider what else was up ahead, a glint caught her eye. Peering upwards and ahead where a large monster rested. Large wasn't even a good word to use, for this creature was bigger than anything Aspenberry had seen before. She could tell just from is looming presence, despite still being a fair distance away from it. She inhaled sharply, eyes narrowing too thin slits. What if it woke up? Would it be able to scent them? Would it come after them? Despite her doubts, her gaze never wavered, as she continued on her path, approaching the monster with only the slightest hint of fear. 

It smelt rancid, tangy and old, and as her vision cleared Aspenberry could see that the creature was aged, looking similar to how two-legs treated their old dens. It seemed... dead, but Aspenberry couldn't be sure. She stopped a safe distance away, glaring at the machine with a fierce gaze as her ears pinned to the back of her head. Was this what had robbed WindClan of their leader?

Survival demands caution, but greatness requires daring
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Kosmo’s ears twitched as Aspenberry shared the tale of the rogue leader, her words painting a vivid picture of a silvery tom with blue odd eyes - a hint of insanity, she had said. The name Caligula echoed in his mind, though he remained outwardly unaffected. His mismatched eyes betrayed nothing, but internally, the mention of his grandsire stirred something cold and distant. The Cabal, the chaos of his youth, and the heavy legacy that lingered like a shadow behind him. Aspenberry had no idea how close her story hit to the truth.

"Maybe..." he replied, his tone playful but with an underlying tension. "A descendant of a silvery tiger? Sounds like quite the legacy. But I'm afraid I don't share any of the madness - just the odd eyes." He winked, deflecting the conversation away from anything too revealing, but the humor in his voice didn’t quite reach his gaze.

He matched Aspenberry's pace as they pressed onward through the endless green, the flat landscape unfamiliar to him compared to the dense forests and winding rivers of his past. There was something soothing about the open space, the sky stretched out above them without interruption. But when Aspenberry stopped abruptly, her posture shifting into something cautious and tense, Kosmo followed her gaze and his eyes narrowed at the sight ahead.

The ‘monster’ loomed large in the distance, its bulky frame casting a long shadow. Even from where they stood, he could smell the rust, the decay that clung to the air. It was a twoleg machine, abandoned and left to rot in the field. But Kosmo knew better than to underestimate these creatures. He had seen what they could do to the land and to cats who strayed too close.

"It’s just a monster." he said, though he kept his voice low. He had encountered them before in his wanderings, though he always gave them a wide berth. "Old, dead... I’ve seen cats crushed under wheels just like those." His eyes flickered toward Aspenberry, gauging her reaction. She seemed determined, perhaps a little reckless, but he admired her bravery nonetheless.

Kosmo approached the tractor cautiously, his paws light on the earth as he circled the rusty frame before he leaped up onto a rusty red wheel frame, testing its weight under his own. "Sometimes Two-Legs abandon them. Sometimes they die on their own." He could sense that there was something more to this encounter, something connected to WindClan’s past. "Sometimes they can be killed." Kosmo dipped behind the other side, before his cinnamon pelt could be seen under one of the large wheels where his half tail flicked in invitation to come look.

To come see what he had smelled and had smelled before. A tang of old oil had darkened the ground and vein like wires had broken apart, leading to a vessel. Perhaps Monsters weren't so different from cats. "It must have bled out. You can smell whats left from the ground there to - there. " He indicated with his nose, although his muzzle was crinkled with distaste.