Private wakin' up, shakin' up, tangled up // wolf

[SABLESTAR]

The adrenaline bursting through his blood had died, and now Sable is left fighting off the exhaustion that followed. Sleep had been a torture dance with an overactive mind, swept between each thought that shoved its way to the front of his mind. Most of all he thought of Juniper. How she fled instead of joining his side, the scent of fear thick on her trail. It made his pelt itch to think what sort of lies and jabs had been made of him in his absence with her. She couldn't truly believe he would move a target onto his own mate- he loved her. He had done everything, anything for her in the end.

It would take time to rebuild and repair the trust undoubtedly lost between them, but the tuxedo was willing to trudge through it for her. Hawthorne had been her friend after all, maybe he would have felt the same watching someone put down Gray or Hazel in the same manner, even if neither of them stood beside him now. There was still time for change, he reminded himself.

"Mm, Wolf." Sable scented the tom before seeing him, his eyes still cursing him with every other blink, carefully keeping the other within his sights. "I assume the lack of a report is good news, no more strays after last night?"

this heart beats cold like the devil his own

• @Wolf
  "mew"
• 

  SABLE— he/him ･fifty-two moons ･colonist ; no clan ･penned by gonkpilled

  a black and white tuxedo with dark amber eyes

 

[Wolf]

AND I AM SORRY MY CONSCIENCE CALLED IN SICK AGAIN​

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Old or young, exhaustion caught up with everyone, eventually. Wolf was no exception to that rule. Young and capable as he may be, his ambitious heart had demanded much of him that night.Three dead at his paws. Or was it four? And a final cat, who'd managed to escape when Sable had called for a retreat.

Momentarily his mind flashed to the den. To Marbleshines terrified but determined form huddled protectively over two wide-eyed kits. He was still unsure if they would have become two more bodies added to the pile if she had not been there– if some small part of him wasn't amused enough with her naive scrappiness to turn away and search elsewhere.

In all, Wolf didn't count the night as a loss. They may have been the ones to 'retreat', but the mottled feline had managed to thin Hawthornes ranks some and he knew he wasn't the only one out there doing so. Besides, he hadn't seen much benefit in sticking around that place anywhere when it was already used up.

Wolf.

Well, if it wasn't the cat of the hour.

Mismatched eyes turned upon the two-toned cat with an ease that Sable could not afford, and as the other struggled to keep the mottled tom held in their gaze, Wolf took a moment to look at the damage done. The swelling alone looked like a bitch to deal with, and he could only imagine how painful blinking the sleep out of his eyes would be when they finally chose to sleep.

Who knew Hawthorne had it in him? Wolf could appreciate the brutality of it-- of a cat doing what needed to be done at any cost to keep what they had. That was life, the same way Sable launching an early attack was. Good old fashioned, instinctual savagery.

"You assume correctly. It's been quiet aside from our own." Cats with a colony scent that had gone searching for late night meals or scraps for bedding. "If anyone was trying to follow us, the thunderpath likely scared them off."

Several times he'd taken groups out to hunt in the territories beyond the colonies claim- chasing mice at the rivers edge with Marbleshine, heading out toward the barn with Moth and Bramble– but not once did any of Hawthornes cats ever step forward to come along. Idiots with no survival instinct, if you asked him.

"You're not here as my relief, are you? Your eyes are hardly fit for it. " The thought left him at an impasse, unsure whether to chide them for their stupidity or find amusement in the fact that they were so serious about all of this. Sometimes he forgot that other cats had their own things going on– thoughts and motivations and reasons for doing things beyond the simple notion of 'because they wanted to'. Cats with moral obligations or social standing to uphold.

Reasons they fought just as hard for, even if the patchwork tom couldn't relate to it.

Wolf just wanted to see what it could become– see what he could do with it.

​

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

​

 

[SABLESTAR]

Sable didn't need to know just how much blood coated Wolf up to the knees to see he was a capable, dangerous cat. One he felt lucky to have on his side rather than the other. Nightinggale, Leopard, and many other may have died that night, but he had seen the bodies strewn that had worn Hawthorne's colors too. Straw, Milky... Bracken. He tried not to linger on it for long, which of their colonymates killed those they had slept beside just the evening before. They had all made their choice, there was always a choice.

Even if the murky shallows of algae-filled ponds and slick muck didn't appease them all, Sable found he preferred it over the tall expanse of oaks anyhow. The shadows coated his pelt well and no longer did he feel stuck in the open and fumbling over forest debris. In time they would know the lands well enough to traverse with their eyes closed, and any who tried to interfere wouldn't see them coming until it was too late.

"Good... Lucky we lost no one else to it last night." The burn of his eyelids brings them to a close again, soundless in his frustrations and pain aside from an irritated lash of his tail. Hawthorne had gotten his last punch well, but ultimately his last. His ego pressed to take the rightful claim to killing the tom, and when the time came for his to share Hawthorne's death at all he knew suspicion would be set on his shoulders first of all. But it had been a cold, nasty kill to place. Violent and vicious, and he didn't want Dunny nor Shade associated with that. Speculate all they will wish, the three had sworn to secrecy.

"Me? Hardly. Cicada will cuff me just for leaving a sickbed." Cherry and the kits still remained at the oaks, but promised they were safe. Hawthorne's followers had moved elsewhere after the fight as well. "I've just been checking where I can, where it's useful. I do expect to start branching out here soon, see where all of this leads to." How much territory had he brought them to? He hadn't even left for more than some fox-lengths from their dens and the vast moorlands, a shame his sight be taken in the beginning of all this discovery. "Do you think you'll stay?"

this heart beats cold like the devil his own

• "mew"
• 

  SABLE— he/him ･fifty-two moons ･colonist ; no clan ･penned by gonkpilled

  a black and white tuxedo with dark amber eyes

 

[Wolf]

AND I AM SORRY MY CONSCIENCE CALLED IN SICK AGAIN​

---

"Thunderpaths are usually quieter at night. If we'd had to make the crossing during the day I imagine we wouldn't have been as lucky." he acknowledged, thinking back to the many, many experiences he'd had with twolegs and their things. It was one of the many benefits to being a wanderer like him. He'd seen all kinds of people and places and animals and things. A nomad, they called him, never settling in one place for more than a few moons at most.

As one could imagine, he knew thunderpaths well. Hell, he'd been born in a broken down, hollowed out monster in some random field filled with twoleg junk– it'd be a little weird if he was scared of the things.

"Can't say I blame him. Not sure how he works his magic with those plants and some cobwebs, but I wouldn't want it wasted either."

Despite seeming to agree with Cicada, his tone didn't indicate disapproval. Like it or not, Sable was the catalyst of the split. He was the cat to first stir go stirring the pot, the one who made the plans to fight Hawthorn at dawn, who then sent Wolf and the others out early to gather the other dissenters. Until someone made a move to de-throne him, Sable was the one leading things, and so Wolf wasn't surprised in the least to see him out taking stock of his followers. Be it strategy or just the bleeding heart every other cat here seemed to have, it was the smart move to make when it came to further asserting their authority. It's what Wolf would have done if the roles were swapped.

"That's good to know. Idle paws are dangerous paws– if you give the cats here too much time to sit and dwell on everything that happened they'll start to get restless. That lack of structure is exactly what bit Hawthorne in the tail." And you wouldn't convince Wolf otherwise. All those cats, just sitting around and waiting for someone to tell them what to do while they starved to death, to make them feel like they weren't just sitting around waiting on change to fall into their lap. Sable had to avoid making the same mistake, had tomake these cats feel like they were doing something, accomplishing something– otherwise, they'd turn on him too. 'Keeping them busy with learning the land and making it theirs will be a good distraction from that. It'll be a good learning experience for them, too. Gives them a chance to see that the world has more to offer than that used up stretch of territory Fray was so dedicated to-- even one that smells like this. " he snorted as he vaguely gestured to the land around them with his tail.

"Do you think you'll stay?"

"Yes" It was an easy decision for Wolf to make. He didn't do half-wants or partial decisions. Anything he did, he did it with enough certainty to not regret it afterwards. This was no different. He wouldn't still be there if he wasn't completely certain it was what he wanted. "I've been all over the place, and colonies the size of this one aren't common. Either the twolegs get involved, or the territory isn't strong enough to support them. But Frays had you all out here living just fine up until this winter. If him or Hawthorne hadn't been so stubborn about branching out a bit into the grasslands or surroundings forests, the colony would have been just fine."

Which meant the territory was strong enough and isolated enough to support a large group of cats living on it for an extended period of time-- if they were willing to be flexible with their borders and hunting grounds. And since most of Sables followers had already shown a willingness to follow Wolf into different lands to do just that, he didn't see much issue with them being able to find their footing out here. With enough time, even the overused stretch of land near the old camp would teem with life again, making it a viable hunting ground to return to.


"You could do a lot with a group like this. Could make it into something strong enough to survive just about anything. I want to help with that. See what it becomes- what it can do." the mottled feline admitted. before a small smirk tipped the corner of his lips upward. "Unless you fuck it up like Hawthorne did. I'm not one of those cat's who'll force themselves to stay loyal to group that's destined to crash and burn. If you put them into a nosedive they can't be pulled out of, don't expect me to crash with the rest of them."

If his honesty burned him, so be it.

​

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

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