Closed The Colony what's all the fuss about? [copper]

[GHOSTSTRIKE]

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

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PROMPT- (Maybe for Copper and Ghost, hmm... they can be exploring/watching the territory, see if there's nothing funky going on? they could make small talk/bond whilst doing so?) // Ghost is currently exploring the area, feel free to go bug him!!

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Frays death, when it finally came, was little more than passing words to Ghost; a few sentences from the mouth of a tom he'd never met and nothing more. He'd felt nothing, because it was nothing– to him, at least.

Mass grief was not a concept he was familiar with, not a practice of his birthplace. In truth it wasn't even something he could fully wrap his head around, and he struggled to understand how so many cats could seemingly be affected by the death of an individual. The closest he could get was the time his colony lost a particularly nasty higher up belonging to the Shoulder Mark, a tom who'd taken particular pleasure in the misery of the Hind Mark cats. The day word had come down that the bastard had gotten himself torn up on a failed hunting patrol, most of Ghosts Mark had spent the night grinning and sharing stories of their bad experiences and how they were glad he was dead.

But this wasn't like that. There was no joy or celebration to be had at the news of this toms end. And while his first instinct was to dismiss their apparent grief as nothing more than a social obligation– of which, there seemed to be many outside the walls of the Coalition– he found himself struggling to do so.

Because why would a cat run off to cry alone in the forest, hidden away in some damp, rotten log, if it was all just for show? What audience was there to perform for out there?

So, confused and just a little irritated at having to entertain the things he didn't understand, he'd given him his occasional spot on the edge of camp to haunt the familiar surroundings of the colonies territory. In the weeks he'd been there recovering, he'd long since learned the ins and outs of the place, whatever time wasn't spent hunting or observing the clan from the shadows usually being spent walking the territory. Restless paws. Restless existence.
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future thunderclanner - male - a large, grey tabby with dark amber eyes and several scars​

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[Copperstorm]

COPPER OF THE COLONY

Though he felt the heavy shadow that cast over the Colony at Fray's death, he knew that he had to press forward. Life wouldn't halt for the death of one cat... And as he heard the solemn calls of the cats who wished to help with burying their former leader, he had chosen a different path, ready to slink into the shadows as quiet as could be.There were mouths to feed, hungry bellies to fill... And the task of hunting could not be ignored, not even for sorrow.

What he hadn't expected however, was to cross paths with Ghost. He found the newcomer a certain enigma... Curious, unfamiliar and mysterious... And Copper couldn't help but wonder how the other cat was managing this change of lifestyle. Certainly before all this, there had been a different path taken? A more rougher path if one asked him by the looks of it.

"Finding this all a bit... difficult to take?" Copper drawled, his tone casual as he sauntered over, his golden eyes locking onto Ghost's pale form. The other cat's expression was unreadable at first, but Copper pressed on, his voice carrying an undercurrent of genuine curiosity. "Your life must've been very different from the colony." he finally spoke, his tail flicking once.

He tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze studying Ghost's every reaction. Copper wasn't just making conversation, he wanted to understand the stranger, to bridge the gap between the outsider and the knowledge Copper had about the Colony life. What else was there out there?

you walk along the edge of danger ——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— AND IT WILL CHANGE YOU

 

[GHOSTSTRIKE]

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

​

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There was a fine line between vigilance and paranoia, and it was undetermined which side Ghost fell on. Up until reaching the colony his life had called for constant vigilance, if not for the packs of stray dogs waiting to get them, then for the other cats of the Hindmark who were always happy to have one less mouth to share their rations with. And the remnants of that caution had spilled over into his interactions here as well; never putting his back directly to another cat, always lurking on the high ground, ears and nose constantly working to keep him updated on his surroundings. He cleared areas with a sharp gaze whenever he entered a new space, counting entry points and potential threats. Never leaving it to chance.

Too many times a hungry mutt had come out of nowhere at him, or a set of claws warning him away.

And so when he caught the sound of pawsteps heading toward him he paused with tense shoulders, darks eyes narrowing as a form appeared on the path to join him. He recognized the brown tabby as one of the colony cats, but he'd never bothered to learn their name. They were just one of many in a sea of nameless faces, and Ghost wasn't sure what would warrant them approaching.

Then again, none of the colony cats had had a reason to approach him, and yet they seemed content to do so.

"It was." he confirmed, short and to the point in that gruff tone of his. The Coalition had been nothing like this place or it's cats, hardly a secret with how Ghost acted around them.. "Nothing I can't handle, though." he added with a grunt, not seeming particularly concerned.

And he wasn't– not when it came to surviving. He knew he was smart and strong enough to keep himself alive out there, but that wasn' the problem. His issues ran much deeper than that, a war between instincts and conditioning. Of what he should want and what he was telling himself he didn't.

"Won't be here much longer, anyways. Leavin' once your medic clears me for travel." It wouldn't be much longer, actually. Maybe a week at best. He didn't get as dizzy on his hunts anymore and the worst of the bruising was gone, the fresher healed wounds over old scars just more paint on a ruined canvas.
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future thunderclanner - male - a large, grey tabby with dark amber eyes and several scars​

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[Copperstorm]

COPPER OF THE COLONY

A faint twitch of a nicked brown ear betrayed the golden-eyed tom's curiosity as he observed Ghost, his head tilting slightly. Ghost was an enigma to the colony, a fleeting presence who was as likely to vanish as quickly as he'd appeared. Copper's gaze lingered, studying the other tom with quiet interest.

" Still. " Copper sighed, breaking the silence. " It could always be worse. " He settled himself onto the ground with a soft exhale, his golden eyes momentarily lifting to the sky. The vast expanse above seemed to mirror the fleeting, untethered nature of the cat before him.

Ghost's words, casual as they were, carried a familiar weight. He spoke of leaving, of needing only the healer's clearance before he could slip away once more. Copper couldn't help the faint smile that tugged at his lips, bittersweet and knowing.

" It's your life. " he murmured, shifting his gaze back to Ghost, half-lidded eyes unreadable yet reflective. He paused, considering his next words, then tilted his head. " Have you ever wondered what it might be like to... just stay in one place? "

His voice was soft but carried a note of curiosity, almost wistfulness. " Or is that not for you? Are you more at home being alone, with no one to look out for but yourself? " He tilted his head to the other side, his gaze steady yet searching. " It must be a lonely life, though... no roots, no ties. Just you and the road. "

you walk along the edge of danger ——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— AND IT WILL CHANGE YOU