we won't go quietly [closed / middy]

    Their golden eyes seem to dance off each other with shared mischief in that moment, him holding his breath right up until the large she-cat plunges forward into the unknown. Hushedtalon hits the water like a boulder, and he laughs heartily as the crash landing sends droplets in all directions, just sprinkling his ebony paws at the outermost point of their reach. Midnightfang watches on with all the joy of a kit in newleaf as her furry head breaks the tension of the pond’s surface; her long hair drips profusely, and he itches to join her as he watches her swim in circuitous patterns.

    He crouches with unsheathed claws digging into the mud of the water’s edge, tail lashing in anticipation. Midnightfang only pauses when the she-warrior spins around to face him. Her silence, while the only thing she has ever done, makes it easy for him to hear the beat of his own heart pulsing; it pulses against his chest with his excitement. Her water-logged fur clings to her visage rather comically, but there in her marigold-like gaze lies a glint of something.

    What’s going on in that head of yours, Hushedtalon? Midnightfang thinks, muscles starting to protest at their coiled state. He opens his maw to wonder aloud, but he barely has time to even process before he watches her outstretched paw reach and then come down on top of the pond’s surface. The water lurches forward from the impact, the raven-furred warrior letting out an alarmed noise as the resulting, quite well-aimed spray showers him.

    He stares at her in shock at first, the water beading off his whiskers and dotting his coat. And then, his maw splits in a grin. "So that's how it's gonna be, huh!" Midnightfang meows challengingly at the perpetrator in question, Hushedtalon staring at him in a smug, accomplished sort of way. "Get those furry haunches ready, 'cos here I come!"

    Midnightfang leaves his spot for a moment, skidding in a wild circle before this time pushing himself off the pond's bank. Dirt catches in his back claws from the force, and he sails into the air with a fiendish expression, forepaws outstretched and his aim directly above the she-cat.

@valence

    Satisfaction washes over him as the water does when his plunge completely submerges him and his victim. Water fills his nose, burns his eyes, and the tom holds his breath to keep from drowning out his air supply. Bubbles engulf him as both he and Hushedtalon’s paws disturb the once peaceful depths of the pond. Underwater is so otherworldly, the muted stillness a strange place to be if one is used to the teeming and comparatively noisiness of the woods. He watches through the murky filter over his vision as the she-cat kicks towards the surface, and he mirrors this, hind legs pushing him vertical.

    He surfaces, sound and sight returning full all at once, shaking his head and sending droplets scattering across the water as a result. He blows the remainder of his air reserves out through his nose, a mixture of snot and pond water alike escaping in the form of a sneeze.

    It isn’t long after though that he’s left to recover, because the telltale movement beside him follows up with more splash attacks. The assault makes Midnightfang let out a growling kind of laughter, practically gargling on pond water as he objects, "Ack—okay, alright, I surrender!"

    When the small cascades of water cease, he chances a peer with open buttercup-petal eyes at a wheezing, coughing and very drenched Hushedtalon. Despite the unbridled enjoyment, a trickle of worry runs colder through him than the encompassing water. Attempting to stifle his own sodden puffing, he paddles over to where she is, one paw coming up to bap at her shoulder in his concern. An easily found though strained chuckle escapes him, cough, and then, "Y'alright there?"

@valence

    Midnightfang is relieved that his dunking her underwater hadn’t done any real damage. He cannot help the concern really, being that Clanmates were like family to him. If she were to come down with something due to an errant skirt around their duties not only would he feel bad, but he is doubtful it would be overlooked by, say, their superiors that they had been having an off day. Fortunate indeed that nothing bad would come of a bit of harmless play.

    He idly keeps himself afloat while Hushedtalon swims towards the pond’s edge. At first, he thinks that she has had enough of their idle game with an almost alarmed feeling, but then after shaking of excess water in another rather impressive cascade, she simply retires to the muddy shore. In the sunlight that peeks through the overhead tree branches, she looks quite regal, admittedly. Well, if regal involves looking half-drowned. When she throws him a look, he decides that she simply looks at peace.

    He offers her a smile back just before her head resumes its restful position. Midnightfang opts to continue swimming gently, in circles. The water gives to his movements while simultaneously hugging his coat, black fur swirling gently beneath the pond’s surface.

    "This is the good life." The warrior comments warmly, paddling his way to where Hushedtalon contently lies. Once his paws find footing, he trudges through the shallows and does his own show of ridding the water from his pelt, from whiskers to tail tip (no doubt raining his friend, but, ah well). He flops down next to her, a creeping tiredness in his paws. What a thing it is to be tired from play, as a warrior, no less.

    He sets to work grooming his chest first, enjoying the sunshine that filters through to warm their damp pelts. "Not the usual hunt, no?" He mews between licks, glancing at in hopes to see her own silent agreement.

@valence

    Midnightfang feels warmed by her soundless but clearly pleased acknowledgment, purring loudly as he continues to set to move his working tongue from his chest over to each of his front limbs. The taste of the pond water is pretty strong on his fur, but he inwardly decides it is a well-earned inconvenience. He and Hushedtalon both would smell strongly upon returning to camp, all grooming aside, perhaps even likely to be kicked out to sleep in the open until their pelts smelled much less… amphibious, a trait more akin to their RiverClan cousins, a scent all other Clans know well come time for a Gathering and not favorable to the less water-loving kind. He laughs to himself at the thought, not minding a swim now and again and amused by the fact that so many are truly bothered by it.

    He has moved to work on the damp fur that spikes up in little clumps on his flank and pauses mid-lick to see his hunting partner stand. Bright yellow irises follow her movements carefully, attempting to absorb the silent information as if she were speaking like any other cat. Midnightfang starts to tilt his head, confused, wants to get back in? He thinks, but no, because then she crouches and begins to skirt the pond’s bank. It seems so casual, the way she moves, as if its a game.

    Then he sees it: a fat, muddy-colored frog that had assumedly thought it would be safe just sitting there idly, like a rock. Dumb things, he muses as Hushedtalon ends its life in mere heartbeats of its first few hops. Midnightfang offers up a grin when she looks over to him, whiskers twitching in amusement as the slimy creature dangles from her mouth. He cannot say he’s a fan, but prey is prey.

    He recognizes her signal that, maybe, they should head back. It makes him laugh again. "Yeah, I guess it would be a smart move. They might send a search patrol after us if we take much longer." The warrior jokes, moving over to where he had haphazardly covered their first catch with slightly sodden, loose dirt. He dips his head down to scoop it up into his jaws, shortly after returning to an awaiting Hushedtalon.

    Before moving off though, he looks at her and blinks slowly, expression bright. He does this as if to try out the whole not being able to speak thing she has to endure, hoping the simple action conveys his gratitude for letting him join her.

@valence