Private Camp and there she is [marbleshine]

[WOLFPACK]

AND I AM SORRY MY CONSCIENCE CALLED IN SICK AGAIN​

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OOC- Takes place shortly after the events in the main finding camp thread, after Wolf has gone up to keep watch (before Cicada arrives)

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After the majority of the bickering had ended and cats had decided to start spreading out to see to their individual tasks, Wolf had turned back toward the muddy slope leading out of camp and had clawed his way back up. They would definitely be in need of something to help ease the process of climbing in and out if they were going to be staying here for any period of time.

He took his place among the pond pines and the underbrush, his dark, mottled frame hidden well enough among the shadows there. His body stung on various points from the clawmarks and bitewounds he'd received, bruises that would leave him tender for days to come, but there was a contentment that sat warmth in his chest, a heavy sense of satisfaction. Maybe they hadn't managed to run the other cats off, but it didn't really matter. That place as a whole was overworked, and even if they'd been the victors, it wouldn't have gotten them anything but a stretch of land with a prey shortage. It could have been weeks sitting pretty on their tails waiting for the food to return, all while Hawthorn and his group explored different lands.

But now, it was Sables group doing the branching out. And as a cat who had been nomadic by nature before finding himself intrigued by the colony, he knew well enough that there was always something more to find. If the old grounds couldn't provide for them, then something else somewhere else, would.

Though, he wasn't sure what his thoughts were on staying in a damp, smelly place like this one. The lack of snowfall was a plus, but he couldn't say he was looking forward to the foul taste that would be waiting for him when he finally had to clean the mud and blood off of him later.

Oh well. It wasn't all bad, and if anyone could make the best of a shitty situation, it was Wolf.

@Marbleshine
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loner/future shadowclan - male - a large, monochrome chimera with mismatched eyes and several scars​

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[Marbleshine]

MARBLE OF SHADOWCLAN

Marble lingered at the edges of the activity, her watchful blue eyes following the movements of each cat in the camp. Her attention remained fixed on Seal, the small kit pressed close to her side. Every now and then, she rasped a soothing tongue over her head, a tender gesture that spoke of her care.

When her gaze met Flame's, she saw the faintest nod of understanding. Turning to Seal, she spoke softly, her voice warm but steady. " Stay with Flame for a bit, okay, Seal? " she murmured, leaning down to nuzzle the kit gently. " Maybe he can show you around this place a bit? "

Flame stepped closer, his flame-colored fur catching the light as he smiled down at the kit. " Hey squirt. " he began with a playful tone. " Wanna see if we can find some nearby stuff that can help the other cats? You can be my lil' helper. "

Marble watched the pair for a moment, her chest tightening as she considered Seal's loss... the absence of the mother who would have been there for her. Her heart ached, but she forced herself to focus. Her thoughts drifted to Wolf, the heavy question of his well-being pressing down on her. Where was he? Was he safe?

Her eyes scanned the surroundings until she finally caught sight of him, or what she hoped was him, hidden amidst the terrain near the slope. Without hesitation, she moved toward him, her slender form navigating the uneven ground with care.

Reaching the slope, she scrabbled up with determination, her claws sinking into the earth as she pulled herself over the edge. When she finally spotted him, her breath caught. He was well-hidden, almost merging with the shadows, but the sharp, metallic scent of blood betrayed him.

Wrinkling her nose at the tang, Marble moved closer, her heart sinking at the sight of his injuries. Without a word, she rasped her tongue gently over one of his wounds, the warmth of the gesture contrasting the cold dread in her chest.

" You are wounded... " she said softly, her voice steady but tinged with worry. " Where are you all wounded? " She leaned closer, her eyes scanning him carefully, ready to tend to whatever she could.

GO ON AND TRY TO TEAR ME DOWN ——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— I WILL BE RISING FROM THE GROUND

mention of @Sealpaw

 

[WOLFPACK]

AND I AM SORRY MY CONSCIENCE CALLED IN SICK AGAIN​

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The sound of paws scrabbling up the slope behind him weren't cause for alarm– cats had been coming and going all night in search of prey or dryer bedding, and he might even join them in the former once another cat was sent to relieve him from his post. Hopefully this marshland had more to offer than the old hunting grounds did, because it'd be a pain to have to travel for a meal like he'd been doing before, at least while his injuries were still healing.

Speaking of…

The weight of another cat settling beside him was unexpected, had his head snapping to the side to see which cat had decided to invade his space rather than step past him out into the territory. It wasn't as surprising as the tongue that dragged across his ribs though, gently rasping over a clawmark left behind by Cone.

Marble.

He forced himself to relax, letting out an amused huff that doubled as an excuse to let go of the tension in his body as it confirmed there was no threat. Just a girl who was too soft for her own good.

"Did you come all the way up here just for this?" he asked with a cocked brow and a small, disbelieving shake of his head. Still, he made no move to shoo her away, just went back to making sure nobody was sneaking up on them. He didn't understand why she'd want to take care of him when he was capable of doing it himself, but he was apparently willing to humor it, just as he had her protective stance over the kits in that den.

"You are wounded… Where are you all wounded?"

"Arms. Chest. ribs." he listed off as if it were nothing.

The majority were defensive wounds, injuries made out of desperately scrabbling claws and kicking legs. A few from well aimed claws or teeth, but.. "It's not as bad as it looks. Most of the blood isn't mine."

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loner/future shadowclan - male - a large, monochrome chimera with mismatched eyes and several scars​

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[Marbleshine]

MARBLE OF THE COLONY

" Yes. " Marble stated firmly, her voice tinged with worry. She gave a light huff, frowning as she glanced toward Wolf. " Whether it looks bad or not doesn't matter. It could get worse if no one pays attention to it, I should know! " Her ears flattened briefly, and she shook her head. " Don't wave your injuries away so easily. Maybe you're used to it, but… I don't want to risk losing you to them. That would be awful. "

She pressed her paw gently against a particularly deep gash, inspecting it carefully. There was too much blood. It worried her more than she cared to admit.

Who had attacked him? She couldn't help but wonder, but she didn't ask. Now wasn't the time.

Turning slightly, she allowed her plumy tail to shift forward, coated with cobwebs she had gathered. It wasn't much, and she had no other medicines, but it was something. Carefully, she dabbed the cobwebs onto her paw and began tending to the worst of the wounds.

" Thank you... " she murmured, lifting her blue eyes to meet his. " For helping me… and for the advice when I was protecting those kits. I didn't know-- " She stopped herself, shaking her head. " Just, thank you. That was kind of you. "

She gently pressed the cobweb onto another wound, her gaze lingering on him. Despite her uncertainty, she couldn't deny the relief in her heart for his presence.

GO ON AND TRY TO TEAR ME DOWN ——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— I WILL BE RISING FROM THE GROUND

 

[WOLFPACK]

AND I AM SORRY MY CONSCIENCE CALLED IN SICK AGAIN​

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Would it be awful? he wondered, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. Wolf didn't know what it was to truly mourn– not another living being, at least. He'd mourned the loss of a good meal, or the loss of an easy route 'home' (wherever that may be for the week). Even of a warm body in his nest– though not the innocent kind that would likely come to Marbles mind.

He'd never considered the possibility of feeling a sense of loss over an individual though, or of someone feeling that way about him.

Softness. he thought to himself, chalking up his lack of recognition to that.

"Suit yourself, then." he acquiesced, keeping still while she did her poking and prodding.

Marble was too gentle of a cat in his opinion. So much like Hawthornes followers that the only thing that had kept his fangs off of her that night was the fact that he'd seen her willing spirit for himself. Soft-hearted as she may be, Marble was a cat who still had her uses to the clan– and to Wolf. Her following him out to hunt by the river that day had proven it to him, and that willingness to change, to adapt for her own survival might keep her alive longer than some expected.

He grunted at her thanks, unsure of how to accept it properly. Gratitude wasn't something he was often showered with.

"You have a lot to learn." he agreed as she brought up the kits and her attempt at protecting them, how she didn't know what she was supposed to do. "But you did well. If you'd stayed on the field you would have been cut down like every other inexperienced cat who had no business being out there." In sentiment he supposed it was what others would call 'honorable', rushing out into battle to defend your friends and home. But to Wolf it was just a dumb move. She would have gotten actual fighters killed trying to protect her. "Instead, you did something useful rather than distracting the other warriors."

Something he was learning– albeit slowly– was that there was room for softness in a clan where there was not on the streets-- so long as you had a cat looking out for you who was willing to pick up the slack. When you lived alone, relying on yourself for survival, you couldn't afford to have many soft spots if you wanted to live a decent life. There were enough martyrs out there giving away their food and trusting the wrong people as it was, anyways. With a clan though, there was always someone to fill the gaps on your shortcomings. A queen didn't have to bear the burden of hunting, patrolling, and raising her litter. A sick cat could afford to take their time resting, knowing they'd still be fed and looked after. Softness had a place here, it seemed, but Wolf would make sure it was collared and regulated– that it didn't seep into the foundation to rot what the clan could become. It could live here, but only because cats like him allowed it to.

Marble and those like her could be allowed to exist in this space, but only at the behest of the truly strong.

It wasn't meant to be a cruel realisation, simply a fact of nature. The way a twolegs rottweiler chose not to maul the family cat even though it was well within their capabilities to do so. Or how monsters wouldn't veer off the thunderpath to run you down on the sidewalk. It wasn't about superiority or power-- it was just a fact.

Either way, Wolf didn't feel the vague disconnected annoyance he'd felt when facing Petal, or Egg, like there were flies buzzing around, or some equally annoying but ultimately harmless bug crawling across his paws. Marble wasn't a pest, useless or irritating to him. She was some other thing he didn't have a name for yet, not the whiny, pathetic thing most gentle cats turned out to be. He had confidence that she would be worth something to Shadoclan despite that kind-hearted naivety, and he found he didn't mind the notion of 'picking up her slack'-- helping her.

"I'll teach you more, once things have settled here a bit. What'd you call it- experience through mentoring? Since i'm sticking around I figure I should have more of that."

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loner/future shadowclan - male - a large, monochrome chimera with mismatched eyes and several scars​

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[Marbleshine]

MARBLE OF SHADOWCLAN

A gentle smile graced her maw as Wolf accepted her help, a soft purr rumbling in her throat. It warmed her to know that he wouldn't push her aside while she was only trying to assist.

His comment about her still having much to learn brought a chuckle to her lips, and she glanced toward him with quiet determination. She was well aware of her inexperience, but she was committed to growing, bit by bit. Whether it was improving her hunting skills or supporting her clanmates with everyday tasks, slapping cobwebs onto wounds to stem bleeding, bringing water to the thirsty, or simply being there when needed, she wanted to be someone others could rely on.

When Wolf mentioned that she wouldn't have lasted on the battlefield, the truth in his words made her flinch, if only for a moment. She knew he wasn't trying to hurt her: he was honest, and she appreciated that. Still, the thought stung. Her survival had been owed to protecting the kits, and in that, she believed she'd done her part. At least Lemon was safe with the other part of the colony, or so she hoped.

" I'd like that. " she murmured, her purr returning, softer this time. " You're teaching me so much already. " She glanced at his wounds, inspecting her work before nodding with quiet satisfaction. " This should help. " she added, leaning back a little, her gaze warm as she offered him a gentle blink.

" Is there anything else you might need, Wolf? " she asked softly, her voice kind but steady, ready to offer whatever support she could.

GO ON AND TRY TO TEAR ME DOWN ——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— I WILL BE RISING FROM THE GROUND

 

[WOLFPACK]

AND I AM SORRY MY CONSCIENCE CALLED IN SICK AGAIN​

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"Interesting."

He hadn't said it to be cruel, but something in her expression gave him the feeling she felt their sting regardless. That was okay, though. Better the sting of words than the sting of teeth in a fight she couldn't wind. Sometimes, retreating was just the smartest thing to do. You couldn't live your life like that– not a life worth living, in Wolfs opinion– but as far as strategies went? Yeah. Sometimes you had to run from something bigger and meaner than you. Picking battles was an important part of staying alive, almost as important as how you chose to fight in the first place.

The hurt didn't seem to stick, though, quick to dissipate at the offer of him teaching her more, a gentle purr filling the air as she accepted and finished up with his injuries.

"It does help. Definitely more comfortable." he confirmed as he shifted experimentally, waiting for the painful tug of scabbed over wounds and matted fur, but finding it far less irritating. It was a job he could have done himself, but he hadn't hated letting another cat tend to him instead. Saved him the energy and time of having to do it himself and let him continue focusing on the job at hand.

"Is there anything else you need, Wolf?"

He turned to look at her, a flicker of that intensity from the night of the battle settling in his gaze; something else looking out at her from within those mismatched eyes. It was the same selfish thing that told him it was okay to kill those cats if it meant life would be easier for himself, and it was intrigued by Marbles need to 'help'. Did it make her feel useful, to clean his fur and press cobwebs to his wounds? Fetching him prey? Things he could do for himself, but apparently didn't have to?

Or was this another part of clan life he didn't yet understand? Something to do with shortcoming and picking up slack. Was that what she was trying to do– carry his weight because he was a bit scratched up? In her own way, at least.

He didn't fully understand it, but he didn't really need to, did he? He didn't hate whatever this interaction had been, and chances are he'd likely let her do it again if she approached him in the future. Had a feeling he'd let her do a lot of 'pointless' thing like this for him, if only because he was a selfish bastard who liked to take what others weren't willing to guard with claws and teeth.

"No. This is fine, thanks." he replied, looking over her work approvingly. "I'm glad you decided to come with us. You would have been wasted on Hawthornes cats."

Or maybe that was just the selfish part of him talking again, the one that liked to take simply because it could. Because maybe these gentle acts of care weren't necessary for a cat like Wolf to survive, but they were nice, and they did make things easier on him. Like some kind of luxury item that he didn't think Hawthorne and his group deserved. And maybe time would beat that optimism out of her, would break her spirit and leave her cold or withered like the rest, but he was happy to make use of it until that happened. Happy to enjoy the warmth of her light until it faded into something less pleasant.

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loner/future shadowclan - male - a large, monochrome chimera with mismatched eyes and several scars​

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