Private Territory SC …is it your voice that I hear near? ✦ Blacktree

[Timberfrost]

—————————————————— 'Till I can't run no more ✦

The weakness in his bones could never compare to the weakness he felt in his mind. Timber had been awake for some time now, blearily as it were, and the world greeted him… cruelly, with aching bones and a tender throat and a tendency to grow tired far faster than he was used to. Oh, and the things… the little things he'd see in the corners of his vision, strange cats with strange smiles… but it was just in his mind. There was nothing to fear, he'd tell himself, just ignore it all… but still he couldn't help but glance around in paranoia at the world around him, especially outside of the camp…

But of course, he all but jumped at the offer Blacktree made. He hadn't seen her much—these were hard times, and Timber understood she hardly had the time to herself, much less time to go check in on him much—and so he stuck close to her large form as they both padded out of the camp. Magpie had allowed it, though Timber couldn't help but wonder if it was perhaps pushed forward with Sablestar in mind. The sooner he was fully back to normal, the better.

He couldn't stay in his own thoughts for long, though. The tom cursed something under his breath as he tripped over a loose stone, wobbly and disjointed steps flaring up in stiff pain. "Sorry, sorry—" Timber muttered weakly, trying for an apologetic smile towards the other caretaker. "Still getting my legs back, I suppose… You've been well, haven't you?" The tom tried to strike up conversation, trying to shrug away the stumbling. It wouldn't do for her to spend all her time worrying about his condition now that he was awake. "I know it's… it's not been the most fruitful moon."

It's true, I want to be with you tonight

But I'm a little too late

• @Blacktree lets go on a walk! nothing bad would happen on a walk!
• 
  Timberfrost
  ✦—Shadowclan Caregiver | 31 Moons
  ✦—He/Him
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A large chocolate tabby with pale gold eyes
  #9A775A

 

[Blacktree]

BLACKTREE
SHE/HER
61 MOONS
SHADOWCLAN CAREGIVER
SPEECH | THOUGHTS | PHYSICAL

PENNED BY PLOT

Most of her harsh words for Timberfrost had died on her tongue when she'd gone to check on him in Magpiepaw's den. The caregiver still planned on chiding him for his recklessness, for the worry he caused his kin and the other Clanmates, but he looked... rough. She helped shoulder her friend as they made their way just outside of camp. They wouldn't venture terribly far, not with the tom in this state, but she needed a break from the tension in the camp.

"No worries," she mewed, moving to bolster him a bit more. "You've been nest-ridden for awhile, I wouldn't expect you to go racing through the pocosin on your first walk out."

At his query over her own health, the caretaker grimaced.

"Well. I've been better," she grumbled. "And everyone looking out for themselves hasn't been helpful to feeding all those little ones, especially as they started to eat more fresh-kill instead of milk." Blacktree let out a huff.

"Your kin was worried sick, you know. They did their best to provide, but... Well, there's a reason you and I have the jobs we do. It's difficult to get warriors who are struggling to feed themselves to give up scraps of prey for the kits and caregivers." Her mouth twisted into a silent snarl.

"Many of our Clanmates barely think about what's beyond their own whiskers. They don't seem to understand that without prey, there won't be new warriors in the future."

​

OOC:

 

[Timberfrost]

—————————————————— 'Till I can't run no more ✦

A grin split his face at the mention of racing. "When have you ever seen me racing?" The chocolate tom chuckled, raising a brow at his friend. It was no secret the tom was rather… soft when it came to the rest of the clan—he'd do his best on hunts, sure, but he'd much rather be at home with the kids. Sometimes, he couldn't believe the kinds of kits he had raised—Stoatstream and Fleafire seemed all but born to be one with the pocosin, it practically called for them. Monsterpaw was sure to be the same, and Saffron… His smile wavered somewhat as he thought about the little thing, all banged up with no father for what felt like a moon…

Thankfully (or maybe not..), the other responded to his question about how everything had been with a wince. At least it got his mind off of his failings. In fact, the tom shared her grimace, wrinkling a nose in dissatisfaction at the thought of all those hungry kits. "Always a rough stage, even without the… recent troubles." Timber muttered, but his voice died on his tongue as Blacktree's fur rose, something much darker than a grimace showing up on her face.

For a moment, the tom looked at her with a strange sense of nervousness—Blacktree was a large cat for sure, but nothing close to the heights a cat he once knew got to… but still, that dark expression on her face made his skin crawl. "It's—It's hard on them all, I'm sure—" He started quickly, avoiding the sharp eyes of the other. "They'll learn in time. I'm sure they—"

A movement, something just out of the corner of his eye. It was quick, and sudden, and surely… surely it wasn't real. It must have just been his fear, his memories mixing terribly with his still weakened state. Even then, the tom froze in his tracks, all but folding in on himself as he stared deep into the pocosin. It had been a cloudy, windy day… but surely there were shadows or something playing with his vision.

"Sorry, I'm…" Timber swallowed after a moment, glancing back at Blacktree with a flimsy smile, something meant to hide the paranoia that bubbled within. It was a fear of not just the unknown, but of the fact that this kept happening…. and what him seeing things that wasn't there could mean for his place in the clan. The tom cleared his throat anxiously, blinking to assure himself nothing had been there. "My anxieties, I think—The weather—Something. It's just… getting to me a bit."

It's true, I want to be with you tonight

But I'm a little too late

• …something Was actually there, but you can decide if you want blacktree to have seen the movement as well or not!
• 
  Timberfrost
  ✦—Shadowclan Caregiver | 31 Moons
  ✦—He/Him
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A large chocolate tabby with pale gold eyes
  #9A775A

 

[Blacktree]

BLACKTREE
SHE/HER
61 MOONS
SHADOWCLAN CAREGIVER
SPEECH | THOUGHTS | PHYSICAL

PENNED BY PLOT

Her fur calms as Timberfrost assures her rtheir Clanmates will learn in time. While she's still bristly about the whole subject, she doesn't really want to cause an argument with her friend. Let him see for himself how their Clanmates treated each other as the prey continued to dwindle.

"Hm?" she said, his stammering breaking her out of her gloomy spiral of thought. "Getting to you?" Her gaze cast about the pocosin.

"Don't tell me you're seeing things," she tried to joke. "Magpiepaw said your fever was gone, right?"

​

OOC:

 

[Timberfrost]

—————————————————— 'Till I can't run no more ✦

The way the other repeated her words, as though questioning him—it only put the tom more on edge, a strange sense of anxiety about how the other saw him… or maybe just a general anxiety, one he couldn't quite put his paw on. Timber felt strange, oddly small next to the other, his heart compressed into something that couldn't quite sustain him… It must have just been the sickness, he told himself, and it'd pass with time.

At her next words, though, Timberfrost's face fell. "I- um—" The tom stuttered, avoiding Blacktree's yellowish gaze. "Yes, yes, he said I was well again… I mean at least, as well as I could be." He shook his head firmly at the other, a strange defiance on his face. "No, no, of course I'm not—I'm not crazy. You know I'm not." He assured her, though this was more a comfort to himself than anything. Timber couldn't be seeing anything—because that wasn't a normal thing to do. On the contrary, Timberfrost was an entirely normal cat, with entirely normal thoughts, and an entirely normal family. He could almost forget the things he had seen, the things he had done, if he'd just repeat that to himself. And so he repeated it.

But still, he found his gaze drifting to the dense shrubbery deeper in the pocosin. It must've been a trick of the light, it surely must've… but something in him strained against himself, something yearning to just check. Surely falling prey to an anxious habit wouldn't be too terrible… "Actually…" He started weakly, staring into the woods. "I'm just.. I'm going to check something real fast, just give me a second— Just a second—" And with this, the tom tried for a reassuring smile to Blacktree before he turned, heading into the shrubbery.

His heart raced something fierce, and yet something strange and familiar, as though it were an old friend he was greeting. He sniffed among the weeds, pushed through the brambles, and studied every which way he could… and the tom found nothing. With a sheepishly weak smile, he looked back towards his friend. It had been nothing.

It's true, I want to be with you tonight

But I'm a little too late

• 
  Timberfrost
  ✦—Shadowclan Caregiver | 31 Moons
  ✦—He/Him
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A large chocolate tabby with pale gold eyes
  #9A775A

 

[Gasoline Gasoline]

...or so Timber thought.

He hadn't noticed the lumbering figure prowl from the shrubbery, dark mottled pelt blending in with the shadows of the pocosin. She had been searching, on the prowl for a moon. Heavy step after heavy step. Every press into the earth below was neither careful nor calculated, a cat with a goal. She hadn't tried to hide; rather, Timber did not want to accept what that icy feeling sapping what little warmth clung to his frame.

What was all washed away in one breath. "There you are. You didn't think I couldn't find you, out here, Timber?" The dark, gravelly voice slunk from the darkness, which only seemed to darken the look in her eyes. Piercing, sharp, familiar.

He faced away from her, but she didn't need to see his face to know he was as weak as the last she saw him. Cowardly, frightened. All these moons should have hardened him, and yet there he stood, stumbling over his words, meek as a mouse and as naïve as one not checking its shoulder when there were predators in the woods.

​

GASOLINE

She/Her, Loner, 63 moons.
A longhaired brown molly with extensive scarring and dark blue eyes.
mentored by none // mentoring no one
littermate to no one
NPC x NPC / parent to ??? / previously mated to ???
"SPEECH" // "THOUGHTS" // ATTACK
penned by Pheo ↛ phoenixwashere on discord, feel free to dm for plots.