Acornbreeze

Acornbreeze is a brown tom with ginger swirls and patches, along with green eyes.

## Personality

He's a rather shy and timid individual in general; he is not a fan of tense situations or talking with strangers, and he tends to get very nervous in crowds. He can be rather self-conscious, unwilling to speak much around cats he doesn't know very well due to fear of judgment and rejection. He feels rather insecure about voicing his opinions, as he worries that doing so will make him make a fool of himself, and possibly make him a target for others to ridicule. He's particularly conscious of this because he tends to stutter horribly when he gets anxious, sometimes to the point that it makes it difficult to understand him. When he starts to stutter, it only makes him more nervous, as he's afraid that others won't understand him or that what he means to say will be misconstrued. Thus, when he starts to stutter, things tend to go rapidly downhill, as the nervousness will only amplify the worse the stutter gets, and the stutter will get worse the more nervous he gets. His stutter tends to show itself when he's particularly emotional as well, which heightens his anxiety and makes him not the best cat to deal with stressful situations. When overly stressed or put under pressure, he is prone to tears. However, while his stutter tends to embarrass him half to death and makes every situation his finds himself in worse, he can keep a level head at times, at which point he will soldier through tough times and make the most of what he has in order to do his best. He generally keeps quiet and out of the way, typically a spectator to conversations rather than a participant, and often going out of his way to avoid getting under others' paws. However, despite all his shyness, he has a strong moral compass, unwilling to be pushed into things that he deems immoral despite typically being a bit of a pushover, and willing to put himself out there to advise others against doing stupid things as well if he must. As he gets older he will take his duties very seriously, dedicating himself wholly to protecting and serving his Clan. One of the few things that can actually make him break out of his shell without much effort is annoyance, surprisingly enough; while he usually keeps his mouth shut and tries to stay out of others' ways, cats that are particularly loud, rowdy, or otherwise obnoxious tend to get on his nerves. When annoyed, he will typically adopt a scowling expression, though he will stay quiet at first. As the annoyance builds, however, he will move to passive aggressive remarks, or sometimes even go up to openly sarcastic retorts and rolling his eyes. He will get embarrassed if he's called out on this, but he will typically express this as getting huffy and ceasing to talk rather than with a stutter, as annoying cats tend to be the one thing that actually don't elicit that reaction. With the right mix of patience, kindness, and a little bit of annoyance, he can be coaxed out of his shell enough to reveal the sweet and thoughtful cat underneath his anxieties, along with a bit of hidden sass that he is usually way too shy to express.

## Long Posts

### missed date angst

Acornbreeze was practically trembling with nerves as he trotted through the meadows towards the MarshClan border. Spending some time with Fawnwhisper that morning had helped quell his preemptive anxiety, but he still found himself horribly on edge. It was hard not to be: the whole Clan had been buzzing since Cinderspots, Poppyblaze, and Moonpaw had disappeared, and there seemed to be nearly twice as many patrols moving in and out of camp as usual. Doing a bit more work wouldn't have bothered him, if the work was the result of anything but three of their Clanmates suddenly *vanishing*. That, and the fact that everyone in the camp all seemed to have opinions on the whole thing, made him restless, fidgety, and uncomfortable near-constantly.

The whole mess that was his outing with Cottonnose certainly hadn't helped matters, his muscles tensing and ears flattening at just the thought of the other tom running off alone – should he tell Halfstar and Sedgestorm? But they already had so much on their paws, trying to manage everything and figure out where their missing Clanmates were… And what if Cottonnose got upset with him? What if he yelled at him? What if he snapped at him in front of the whole *Clan* and then *everyone* was upset with him?

He grew conscious of the loud sound of his own breathing, and quickly refocused himself, attempting to regulate his breathing and calm his racing heartbeat. He shut his eyes tightly, focusing on the sounds of the night around him, on the feeling of the chilly breeze brushing through his fur, and the fragrance of the flowers he held clutched in his jaws. It took several minutes, but eventually he managed to open his eyes again, pulse still a little quick, but breathing much steadier and the nerves receding to a disquieting (but not disruptive) drone prickling at the back of his mind.

He glanced skyward, startling slightly at the position of the moon in the sky, and hurried his steps. He'd promised he'd be there, and he didn't want to be late… A hundred different scenarios flashed behind his eyes at the prospect of being tardy, but he did his best to push them aside and just focus on *getting* to where he was going, first.

He nearly sagged and tripped over his own paws with relief when he finally spotted the border in the distance, relaxing enough to cease his hurried pace. As he drew nearer, eyes scanning the landscape on the other side, he felt his stomach flip a bit as he realized he was the only one there. Looking to the sky again, he reassured himself that he was simply early – the moon wasn't quite at its zenith yet, still slowly climbing its way across the sky.

He edged towards the border, stopping a tail-length away from it. He stared across for another moment or two before carefully setting down the flowers he'd brought with him. He wasn't sure what to do now, exactly – should he hunt, while he waited? Would that be rude? But then, what if the other arrived while he wasn't there? Would he just go back home? What would he think of Acornbreeze, then? If he wasn't going to hunt, what could he do? Should he sit? Would sitting make it seem like he'd been waiting a long time? Would remaining standing make him seem impatient? He didn't want to miss this, or make the other tom feel bad, or anything like that…

He bit his lip, scanning MarshClan's territory again. *Still not here…* he thought, shifting from paw to paw. Another chilly wind ruffled his fur, and he tentatively sat down, slowly hunching in on himself and curling his tail over his paws, and fluffing out to combat the cold. *He's nice,* he reminded himself soothingly, *He's always been nice to you, he won't be upset with you… Everything's fine. Relax, for StarClan's sake.*

He glanced down at the flowers at his paws, a tiny smile managing to make its way onto his face at the sight of them. They were good flowers, he thought. All of the blossoms were a bit delicate, still tender and fresh with the newleaf season, and the clinging cold of leafbare. It was a bouquet of dusk: wild hyacinths, lilacs, thrifts, and daisies, all varying shades of pinks, purples, and whites. A lot of the flowers that he'd found left for him here small, or had small, clustered-together petals, and he had wanted to find things that were a bit more spread-out and fragile, flowers that could live and thrive better away from all the saltwater in the marshes.

Privately, part of his selection process had involved imagining his friend's mostly-white pelt, and what colors would look best with it, but his ears warmed at just the thought – he was certain he would rather eat his own tongue than admit to something so mortifying.

*I hope he likes them,* he thought, brushing his tail lightly over the petals.

When he looked up again, he half-expected to see his intended companion to be bounding across the marshes towards him, lifting his tail in a wave and calling out a cheerful greeting to him, as if Acornbreeze's own thoughts were strong enough to summon him. They weren't, of course. The marsh was just as empty as it was before, the saltwater lapping at the edges of waterways and patchy clumps of new leaves rustling on the branches of their trees seemingly the only signs of life. The MeadowClan tom swallowed down his disappointment, and instead focused on the flowers again.

It seemed he sat there a while before he raised his head yet again. Still, not a peep from the other side of the border. His anxiety flared a bit in the back of his mind. He glanced hurriedly around, noting the burnt, hollow tree where he always found flowers left for him. He looked back over his shoulder, noting no one else was around from his own Clan. When he raised his gaze, the moon still wasn't at its highest point in the sky. He even sniffed the air, reassuring himself that the scent on the other side of the border was of MarshClan.

He was in the right place. They had agreed to meet here. He was just early, that was all. All he needed to do was wait.

So he curled his tail over his paws and told himself to *wait*.

He waited.

And waited.

And *waited*.

*Maybe he has a late patrol,* Acornbreeze speculated. *Or he got held up by one, and had to wait for a while before coming.* He swallowed thickly, flattening his ears for a moment before he took a deep breath to calm himself. *He asked me to meet him… he'll be here. I just have to wait.*

So wait he did.

Against the chilly night air and the unsettling stillness of the land around them, he waited.

He waited, with a bit of fog rolling low over the ground around him, and dew beginning to collect cold, wet, and uncomfortable on the grass around him.

Moonhigh passed.

Still, he waited.

The clouds in the sky didn't grow any thicker, but they seemed to darken gradually, blotting out stars in swaths. The light of the moon still shone through clearly enough, but the night seemed darker than many that Acornbreeze had experienced out on the prairies before. He fluffed his fur out against the persistent chill, trying his best to ward off the cold. It even seemed colder than some days in leafbare, though he knew that wouldn't make any sense, with the coast heading into its second moon of newleaf.

He shivered, stomach twisting in on itself. *He'll come. He invited me, he… he must want to see me, if he was the one who…*

The moon descended the other side of the sky.

Still.

*Still*, he waited.

Only when the moon dipped low in the sky did the sob that had been trapped inside of him for hours escape his throat.

Woolflower wasn't coming.

He had invited Acornbreeze to meet him, to bring flowers, to talk, to spend time together; had seemed excited, even, at the prospect. Had smiled and laughed and been enthusiastic in all the ways that were usually too overwhelming for Acornbreeze, but were somehow okay coming from him, coming from the face that always seemed to have an earnest grin and bright eyes to greet him with.

And he *wasn't coming*.

Suddenly, Acornbreeze felt very, very stupid. Of *course* he wasn't coming. Why had he ever thought he would come in the first place? Just because *he* enjoyed Woolflower's company didn't mean that the feeling was *mutual*. Woolflower was cheerful and sweet and more energetic than Acornbreeze knew what to do with, most of the time – what would he want with *him*? He had maybe two friends in his whole Clan; he couldn't talk without repeating himself or stumbling over his words; he mumbled so much it was a wonder anyone could hear or understand him; he jumped whenever someone spoke to him; he could barely stand to look anyone in the eye for more than a few seconds.

He was a mess, he knew. An anxious, awkward, clumsy mess. Why in StarClan's name would someone as vibrant as Woolflower want to spend time with *him*?

It was one thing when it was at Gatherings. Acornbreeze never ended up going at the same time as his friends – it could easily be the same for Woolflower. A lack of anyone *else* to talk to certainly seemed a more reasonable motivation for talking to him than actually *wanting* to do it. Even meeting at the border on accident was different. It hadn't been *intentional*, by any means, and Acornbreeze hadn't wanted to be rude by *ignoring* the other tom, especially when they'd talked multiple times before. It was probably the same for Woolflower. He was probably just being polite.

His stomach rolled, and he felt nauseous at the thought. *Of course*. Woolflower was far too nice to ever ignore him or tell him leave him alone already to Acornbreeze's face. But Acornbreeze had clearly misinterpreted their relationship.

Woolflower didn't want to see him. He probably didn't even *like* him that much. He was just too nice to tell Acornbreeze to *get lost*.

Another sob wrenched itself out of his throat, and he shot suddenly to his paws, becoming aware that his whole body was shaking, nearly hard enough to chatter his teeth. His vision blurred, tears clouding his vision, but he choked back the next sob that tried to leave him. *Stop it. Get ahold of yourself,* he thought fiercely at himself. *It's your own fault for being so mouse-brained in the first place.*

It was.

It was and *it hurt.*

He scrambled away from the border quickly, ears flat against his skull as he muffled his own sounds. The air felt cold, *he* felt cold, colder than any leafbare he'd experienced before, colder than *anything*. The grass pricked at his paws, the dew soaked into his fur, the breeze nipped at his ears, and his whole being felt *cold*.

He left the flowers there as he all but ran back to camp, dusk turned to deluge when the dark clouds opened to rain.