PAFP Camp I NEVER LET ON = [ gift-giving ]

[THUNDERFLASH]

There's a little pep in his step as he walks back into camp, a bird laying between his jaws. It was an impressive catch, and one that was surprisingly easy, the fat jay between his fangs bouncing a bit with every movement he made. There was a plan in his mind. Even if Ghost was still intent on leaving at some point, he'd give him a piece of Thunderflash to take with him. He couldn't forget that way, if there was a gift that Thunderflash gave him.

A soft hum leaves him as he settles on the ground, working on defeathering the bird. Delicate tugs of pin-feathers and downy and flight all alike, lain in a pile next to him. He was sure a pawful of the kits or the apprentices would be likely to take the ones he would discard, but there was specific feathers he had in mind for this task. A good natured grin was settled on his lips as he started to sort through the feathers, the de-feathered jay lain upon the pile for someone else to eat. No, he was too excited to think about his stomach, lifting a feather to the sunlight and tilting it about before nodding in satisfaction.

He stands now, stretching his body out- still mindful of the deep scabbing on his side- with the feather clutched in his jaws. It was brilliantly blue down one side of the stem, fletched with deep blue every half inch. The other side of the stem were a deep black, and the tip on both side of the stem a soft white, unmarred by blood. Thunderflash had ensured it was a clean kill, after all- he would not have something that was supposed to be a memory marred by that of crimson. Blue eyes searched camp, doing a once over. Finding Ghost during the day felt like.. well, just that- trying to find a ghost. A snort nearly left him at the thought. His paws moved him towards his.. his friend- his savior? He had no idea what to call him.

"Ghostie!" He called, grin on his face spreading. Seriously, that nickname amused him. Ears perked, hoping the other would stop. "Ah' have a gift for ye'." He proclaimed, accent thick on his words. The feather was settled near his paws, then passed over to Ghost, ensuring that it didn't gather dirt. "Want y' to have this." I need you to know how much I appreciate you. Thunderflash couldn't bring him to say those words out loud, vision rising to meet darker browns finally, perhaps sheepish under his sharper gaze.

___________________ YOU'VE GOT MY BODY ☆ FLESH AND BONE, YEAH ___________________

• "speech"
  // please wait for @GHOSTSTRIKE
  

• 

• THUNDERFLASH he/him, thunderclanner, twenty moons.
  ☆ a sh/lh chocolate tabby with low white and stunning baby blue eyes. stands of average height with a 'mohawk' and spiky-shaped mane.
  ☆ mentored by who / mentoring no one
  ☆ whichever relations / want listed
  ☆ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ☆ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

[GHOSTSTRIKE]

WE SLEEP SAFELY AT NIGHT BECAUSE ROUGH MEN STAND READY TO VISIT VIOLENCE ON THOSE WHO WOULD HARM US

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Ghost didn't bring up leaving anymore, though if someone else were to broach the topic, he still maintained he was going 'soon'. It remained a vague answer always, though. He could no longer use his injuries as an excuse, and with Thunder back on his feet the blue-eyed tom was also no longer a viable option for the brutes lingering,

Luckily, most cats seemed happy to leave it alone. Ghost slept still in his threadbare nest in the wallscrape near the medics den. Still caught his own food and typically ate by himself. Didn't partake in the near nightly tradition of grooming and sharing stories.

But he joined the morning hunting group now and dropped whatever he found in the prey pile before going out for himself. Dragged clusters of thorns and bracken he spotted elsewhere in the territory back to line the top of the ravine, when really he could have just deepened his own den to make it easier to defend. Even then, he'd been about to go stalking around the thunderpath– again– to make sure none of Sables cats were lurking about, when a familiar voice brought his paws to a reluctant halt.

"Ghostie!"

Thunder.

Ghost hadn't been avoiding him since their release from the medics den– his nerves still wouldn't allow for that– but he'd come a long way from those first few days of finding the camp, where he'd lurked outside of Serpents den like a clawed spectre trying to ward off death themselves. The masked feline had chalked the sudden burst of intensity up to a long overdue mental breakdown of sorts, but with each passing day he found himself more and more comfortable with wandering farther away for longer periods of time. He could hunt again, and patrol, had taken up his morning routine of stretching and training. It felt good-- but his paws still found themselves compelled to halt when he heard his name, bringing him to heel when called like the very mutts he'd grown up hating.

Ah' have a gift for ye."

And Ghost could only stand there watching, feeling like an outsider in his own body as his dark eyes shifted from blue eyes to the equally blue feather set carefully atop their paws.

A gift.

"Want y'to have this."

He remained a statue, living and breathing, but still and silent as the stone it was carved from. Eyes tracking each movement, expression carefully blank as the tom tried to process what this exchange actually was. Something else freely given, like the food, and the company– but there was always that 'why' that sat there looming over everything, something that infected the entire clan but that festered within Thunder most of all. A kindness Ghost just couldn't understand.

But it was getting hard to deny the strange little thrill he felt each time he saw it in action, each time it wasn't stomped out by something ugly or cruel. Almost like he was watching something he wasn't supposed to, a secret he hadn't thought would ever really be shared with him.

A gift.

When he slowly moved to accept the offering, he still felt like he wasn't in control of himself. Like his body was just acting in accord while his mind was left in the dust, struggling to catch up.

"What do I do with it?" he asked at last, gaze returning to a more familiar hue, and perhaps not the most elegant response to what would surely be viewed as a kind gesture by others, but Ghost was trying.

He just.. Didn't know what he was supposed to do with it. He'd seen things gifted to cats in the Coalition before, among mates and friends, but he'd never understood the intricacies of that part of the community. Was he meant to wear it in his fur? Put it in his den? Would he offend Thunder if he got it wrong?

Can't get mad if I ask. he reasoned, if said 'asking' was done a bit bluntly.

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future thunderclanner - male - a large, grey tabby with dark amber eyes and several scars​

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