Ask to Join Trade of Tongues

A little bit of elegance never goes out of style
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Monty didn’t often wander the barn’s edge this early he preferred dusk or dawn, but something about the way the rain had cleared, leaving the earth smelling sweet and sun washed had lured him out.

The moor beyond was as striking as ever. And on the fence, poised like a vision carved from sunlight and wind was...Basilflame? Monty had never been the type to let a greeting pass him by. With a swift, silent bound, he leapt up to the fence a few tail lengths down. His amber eyes caught hers

"Well now..." Monty purred, amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth. "If I’d known WindClan had taken to sunbathing at the border, I might’ve offered to bring a leaf of mint or some lavender."

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

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Basilflame’s body reacted with a ripple under her long fur as she felt another weight jump up onto the fence, her eyes opened, half-lidded to meet a familiar amber-eyed cat she had grown to be quite good friends with. His voice was always nice and somehow always found her when she needed it.

The lynx point she-cat let out a soft mrrrow in greeting, flicking her tail to keep her balance on the white painted border. "Monty!" She cheered, as if seeing him made her day just a little bit better, seeing him alive made her day all the better "You’re doing well?" She asked shuffling to face the fawn colored tom while still keeping her balance against the thin woodwork of the fence.

She inspected him with her eyes and gentle nudging of her nose, just to be absolutely sure that he hadn’t been wounded anywhere that she wouldn’t see. "No wounds, that’s good, you’re safe" she sighed, a relieved purr rising in her throat. The last thing she needed was one less friend in her life or at least an injured one.

A little bit of elegance never goes out of style
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Monty’s whiskers twitched as Basilflame greeted him like sunlight parting stormclouds. Utterly disarming. He let out a low chuckle as she nudged her nose against him, the touch soft and checking like he was something worth worrying over.

"Safe as I can be..." He murmured, tail curling loosely behind him for balance. "Though I nearly got caught in a tangle of goose wire chasing a starling the other day."

He tilted his head, studying her face the way he might a painting he couldn’t touch. “But look at you. Even the fence looks more noble with you on it." A playful smirk followed, but the sentiment lingered. "Have they been treating you right? WindClan?"

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

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Basilflame let out a soft snicker as Monty gave his report of his last hunt and curled her tail upward to keep her balanced as steady as it had been on the fence line. A purr followed the snickering and an amused twitching of whiskers after that. 

"Well maybe I could show you some tricks to avoid that next time instead of having such a near miss" she replied softly her voice lacked any condescension, like she was merely offering to help instead of making at jab at his skills, light hearted or not. 

As Monty moved to compliments, she moved her nose down and licked at her chest fur to hide her embarrassment. "Well, I don't know about all that. But WindClan has been well, treating me well" she answered, her voice was no longer soft, but clear, prideful as soon as her clan was mentioned.

"We've welcomed new apprentices recently, Heatherpaw and Oatpaw, and our deputy, Aspenberry, she had a litter of four recently, Cinderkit, Smokekit, Flickerkit and Ashkit." She mewed, pausing at the mention of the kits, looking off in thought "They're beautiful kits, Monty. And we have two others, Cedarkit and Berrykit, they'll be apprentices next moon. Hopefully I'll mentor one, but I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't" Realizing she was harping on for far too long about her clans youth, she let out a slow exhale, silencing herself and looking at Monty, slightly apologetic but now, letting him speak.

A little bit of elegance never goes out of style
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Monty listened with that easy stillness of his. Her snicker... her offer even her pride as she spoke of WindClan - it all drew the softest smile across his face. "Mm, well now." He said slowly, head tilting as though pondering her offer with a great and grave seriousness. There was something gentler in his eyes as she spoke of kits and apprentices. This world so far from the one he lived in, full of hope and lineage and stories.

"So many kits - and apprentices too. Learning the ways of the clan. Your naming scheme is rather interesting." When she glanced back at him with that almost apologetic look, Monty only shook his head, his tone dipped in something close to reverence. "You could talk about them all day, and I’d still want to hear more. It’s good hearing you speak like that."

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

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"It’s a queens duty to provide kits to keep the clan growing" Basilflame explained, the tip of her flame-like tail twitching as she began to concentrate more on how to speak in a way that would make her more understood by the clan "Apprentices, they’re kits that are six moons or more, they train to be warriors in most cases" she added twitching her ears "they’re assigned a warrior to be their mentor. I was once an apprentice before my graduation ceremony." She added, purring fondly on the days where she would go out and hone her skills with Rooknose and Aspenberry… Swanpaw too.

There was a pause, not a long one, but long enough to let the words settle. "When the leader deems an apprentice ready enough to serve the clan without their mentor’s teachings, they’re give their warrior name and their new status, it is, for some, the biggest day of their lives because some… some don’t make it to their warrior ceremony" her words held a wistful whisper towards the end, as if she were apologising to someone she once knew. "It’s an honor to stand in front of the clan to be named by your leader"

Monty’s mention of the naming scheme made Basilflame’s ears perk up, she hadn’t really thought of how all the loners and kittypets don’t have names like their own, most of them probably don’t even know the concept of a naming ceremony. "If you’d like to know about how the clan names work, I could… try to explain" she offered, it was a light and friendly offer, but there was a seriousness there, a devotion that couldn’t just be taught. A devotion and pride in her own clan that came so naturally to her.

A little bit of elegance never goes out of style
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Monty’s ears angled toward her, catching every word like he was gathering them into some private collection. There was a stillness in him, not the guarded sort, but the kind that belonged to a cat who understood when to be still.

"Mm.." He murmured after her pause, his gaze softening at the weight she’d let slip into her voice. There was weight in her voice sharing the sacred details of clan life. "Sounds like more than just a name."

He glanced down the fenceline toward the moor, as though picturing these ceremonies she spoke of. The gathered cats... the leader’s voice, the weight of pride and loss tangled together. "And you’ve seen both sides of that day, haven’t you?" His tone wasn’t prying, only recognizing the shadow in her words.

When she perked at his comment on naming, Monty’s whiskers lifted with quiet amusement. "Go on, then." He said, leaning a little closer as if she might lower her voice for this. "Enlighten a poor barn cat. I’d like to hear how WindClan decides what makes a Basilflame a Basilflame - and not, say, a Basilpuddle or a Basilbeetle." A faint smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth, but the glint in his eyes made it clear: he wasn’t just teasing. He wanted to know.

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

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Monty's genuine intrigue in the customs of the clan took her slightly off guard, but her eagerness to share how brilliantly unique and amazing clan life was soon overtook the shock. She lowered her voice as he moved closer, like the moment was more intimate than it was. "Clan cats, when we're born, are given a name by our mothers and leaders on most occasions, with start out as 'kit'." she began, there was nothing but pride under the softness when she spoke.

She carefully shuffled closer along the fenceline towards Monty, as if their bodies worked in tandem. "I was called Basilkit, after my paternal grandmother" she explained with a soft lilt to her voice "my mother tells me I was born before my littermate, Hazelkit... she never... never got to live past one moon, barely that" she murmured, but after a breath, switched tunes as to not burden her friend with her grievances.

"When we get our apprentice ceremony and out mentors, the 'kit' is replaced with 'paw' normally, the leader may change it if they feel its necessary, but more often than not kits keep their birth name... with paw of cause" she explained, perhaps rambling, but she continued for both the pride in her clan, and because Monty was so interested.

Basilflame thought to her ceremony, her warrior ceremony, how honored she felt when the leader laid their muzzle on her head, how proud she felt, to serve her clan as a warrior. "Our warrior name is meant to reflect who we are, it is up to our leader and StarClan to give us the right name that will stick with us forever, and most of the time, the clan trusts their judgement." she paused "I was named Basilflame because StarClan honored by Endurance and Strength, marks of a great flame if you'd like to put it that way"

"Was that explanation to your liking?"

A little bit of elegance never goes out of style
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Monty’s expression didn’t shift much as she spoke at least not in broad strokes. His eyes tracked her like each word had a shape and a color worth studying. The moment she mentioned Hazelkit, his ears flicked once, and his tail tip stilled. It was a tiny acknowledgment of the loss tucked in her voice.

When she moved on, his whiskers twitched faintly at her little ramble though there was no mockery in it. She seemed so proud of her clan, and it showed. When she spoke her warrior name’s meaning Monty’s gaze warmed, a slow curve tugging one corner of his mouth.

"Basilflame. Endurance and strength… Aye, I can see how that fits. A flame’s got to be stubborn to keep burning in the wind."

He let his head tilt just slightly as if weighing something private before adding. "And yes. That was very much to my liking." His tone carried a hint of that dry charm of his, but it was underscored with something more genuine. After a pause, his mouth quirked again. "Though now I’m wondering… if I were a clan cat, what name would they nobly bequeath on me?"

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

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Basilflame twitched her ears, Monty wondered what his clan name would be? Basilflame thought about it, probably more than she should, but it wasn't too hard, she took into account his appearance, personality, how he behaved, everything pointed to a name she thought was clear enough.

"Well, if I were a leader giving you your warrior name I would pick Fawnember" She replied, curling her tail around her paws "Your fur is a shade of fawn, and that warm loyalty that glows beneath the surface, it reminds me of embers. Fawnember" she explained, smiling at him with the pride that she always felt while speaking about her clan and clan culture.

She sat expectantly, wondering what the older tom thought of the name, while she did have high hopes that he would enjoy the name, she had her doubts, something deep down that told her that she wasn't worthy of the role of picking names, it was up to Monty, she thought.

A little bit of elegance never goes out of style
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Monty’s ears gave the barest flick when she spoke his so called warrior name, and his gaze sharpened in that subtle, measuring way of his like he was holding the word up to the light. "Hmm..." He let the syllables roll over his mind. A small, wry breath escaped him, though not in dismissal. "Not bad… not bad at all. Fawnember."

The corner of his mouth curved again, but softer this time the sort of smile that lived more in his eyes. "You’ve given me something I’ll have to guard closely." He shifted his stance just slightly, easing the tension in one shoulder. "Though you’ve set the bar dangerously high. If I’m ever naming something for you, I’ll have to match this level of thought."

His kinked tail tip twitched, and he glanced toward her. "I don't think I'm really suited to this warrior business, but that doesn't mean I won't support you and your clan endeavors."

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

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"I wouldn’t blame you for not being interested, I don’t think we’d take interest in having you. Clans don’t often take in outsiders like yourself, from what I hear they barely accepted my mother. She was from another clan entirely." Basilflame explained honestly, whiskers twitching in thought, although the topic didn’t seem as heavy to her as it might of to the dame in question.

"I wouldn’t imagine you’ve heard of her, but she takes walks around here every so often. Sunbear, he name is Sunbear" she added, turning her gaze to where she had came, the direction of WindClan’s camp "not the friendliest but she sure loves WindClan, about the same as most of my clanmates" 

Basilflame thought for a moment, she had been on walks with her mother before, there is always a specific direction the large cat travels, always around the outer rim by the gorge, then around the fence line, near neutral grounds then back to camp. Starclan knows why she’s so specific about it. "She’s big, muscular and tone for an elder. Course red fur, I carry her eye color" she explained "she’s scarred up from battles I wasn’t born for, maybe you’ll meet her one day"

Basilflame paused "if you want to catch her on a walk she pads around the border every few days just after Sunhigh. From what I know she’s not outwardly aggressive to outsiders just… blunt" She didn’t hold any ill tones about her dame, however it was a simple warning if Monty did come across the hard stone she called a mother.

A little bit of elegance never goes out of style
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Monty listened casually towards the she-cat, beginning to shuffle around the fence, scenting the air and keeping an ear flicked towards familiar scurrying. His gaze was steady, simply keeping alert in his comfort. At the mention of her mother, his ears tipped forward faintly.

"Hard to forget a name like that… or the picture you’ve painted."

His expression softened in the way it did when he wasn’t quite smiling, but the warmth was there all the same. "If she's from two worlds, she's bound to have a story or two." A beat passed, and then a faint, knowing hum. "Mothers often do."

He let his gaze drift briefly toward the stretch of border she’d described, his kinked tail curling and uncurling. "If I cross her path, I’ll try not to trip over my words. Bluntness I can take… so long as she doesn’t mind the same in return."

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

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"She doesn't often give a story to a cat who hasn't earned one, she's funny like that." Basilflame replied swiveling her ears trying to hear whatever Monty was trying to hear. However, nothing really came of it, instead she kept her eyes on Monty every movement and every change in expression, it was admirable, how he could simply just be without worry about patrols or clan duties, he was just, Monty, nothing else to it.

Basilflame then shrugged at his second comment "She can deal with the other elders just find and can handle herself. So I doubt she would be aggressive to a stranger looking for a tale" she added. Basilflame twitched her tail, taking another glance at the direction of WindClan's camp, she should be getting back by now before the clan starts to worry her patrol had drawn on too long.

"But trust me, her stories are worth it when you get them out of her" she purred. "But, WindClan will wonder where I've gone. I'll be off for now, but I'll see you again, maybe sooner than you think." she added before leaping down from the fenceline, shaking off of her coat and beginning to walk forward, however she turned to face him once more.

"Until next time Monty!"

A little bit of elegance never goes out of style
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Monty’s whiskers twitched, that faint half smile returning at her purr. He didn’t try to stop her. He wasn’t the sort to cage someone in conversation, but his gaze followed her leap from the fence all the same.

"Until next time!" The low warmth in his tone made it sound less like a farewell and more like a promise. He lingered a heartbeat longer, ears catching the quiet swish of her pawsteps before they faded into the distance. Only then did he turn back toward the farm, kinked tail curling in thought.