Open Backwritten you summon storms, you play with nature // return with a loner

[Copperstorm]

You walk along the edge of danger
AND IT WILL CHANGE YOU

.

Copperstorm pushed his shoulder harder beneath Requiem's weight, teeth gritted as he guided the wounded tom through the camp entrance. Each step was heavy, deliberate... He was well aware of the cat's ragged breathing loud in his ears, the copper scent of blood mingling with the wet earth beneath their paws... The fact this cat survived was a miracle to say the least... Then, with Rowanpaw's help, Stars forbid he prayed that the tom might actually l i v e instead of just survive... " Easy... " he mumbled,, his tone gruff but careful. " We're almost there. Just a few more fox-lengths, and you can rest in a nest instead of the wet ground. " he spoke, mostly to himself, unsure whether the tom was conscious enough to hear.

He knew the moment his paws stepped into that camp, voices would start... He knew it and yet, he pushed on through... He took a deep breath and braced himself as he entered the camp ground together with the others, golden hues flitting around for a moment. A murmur here, a gasp there... He saw the young apprentice Heartpaw, saw how her eyes widened in shock at the sight of the injured stranger, half-draped over the Storm Guard's back. He knew this wasn't the last of it... Kits were curious, so were apprentices... Warriors would want to know who entered their camp.

Copperstorm's head snapped up, eyes blazing gold in the dappled light. " Back to your duties, all of you. " he meowed, his tail lashing once, tone commanding and sharp. " It's a wounded loner. That's all you need to know. " He adjusted his stance, tightening his grip beneath Requiem's shoulder to keep him upright. " We'll deal with him appropriately once he's stable. But for StarClan's sake... " his voice lowered, rough but edged with fatigue. " Let the tom rest before you all start gossiping like crows. " He gave a small nod toward the medicine den.

Speech, thoughts/emphasis

33 MOONS

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THUNDERCLAN

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SONG

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bio

Tagging: @rowanpaw @Requiem @Flurrypaw @Seafoambelly

 

[Seafoambelly]

SEAFOAMBELLY

, 83 moons / THUNDERCLAN RANGER
A long-furred blue-gray she-cat with blue-green eyes.
Sister to URCHINSPINE
Solemn and distant. She doesn't talk much.
SPEECH || THOUGHTS
Tagging none

---

Once again, she helped bear a cat back to ThunderClan camp. Were she someone with a sense of humor, she might joke that she take on a new position as Rowanpaw's designated patient carrier. While she would gladly serve their medicine cat in whichever way she deemed fit, she wasn't certain many of the others would enjoy her nestside manner.

With Copperstorm's help, she walked the stranger into Rowanpaw's den, breathing in the calming, dusty scent of herbs. Here was the border between life and death, marked by earthy scents. After all, the earth bore life to the Clan in form of prey, and the earth was the final nest into which they were laid when they joined their ancestors in the stars. Stars willing, this cat would not find himself among their hunting grounds quite yet. Copperstorm fended off the onlookers, and Seafoambelly grunted as she shifted under the weight of the loner.

"Rowanpaw?" she meowed. "We need your help."

 

[Requiem]

Requiem was eroded with blood loss.

In some silly sense, a more sentient Requiem, met with the same statement, would have met it with one of his seldom-seen jests. 'I haven't lost it,' he'd have said once, 'It's right here, painted across this brown tom's coat'. He didn't think he would have found it funny after the fact.

Somewhere between the jerk of a shoulder into his ribs and the grunting collapse of his soft underbelly over a back, Requiem had found something resembling consciousness and had seized it with undying obstinance, finding a will within him bordering on animalistic to possess this little scrap of presence and keep it close enough to see out of. When Requiem's vision proved grayed and flawed, to hear out of. Hearing proved more servicable to him, for the gruff voice and calling questions implied that his rescuers were communicating with someone who had not yet been present.

That had to have been enough.
It wasn't.

"Stop," came the half-slurred, deep rumble of the loner's voice. Somewhere within the same vein of stubbornness that he held his consciousness, he had managed the miraculous act of raising his head up off of his patrol stranger's back. His newfound vantage paired itself with his mottled visibility to scrape together a scene that he could be confused about, then upset about, and finally, defiant about. Eyes peered at him from behind woods-worn pelts, adorned with plants, and bone, and snail shells and feathers of unrelenting variety. He squinted in vague scrutiny, then his amber eyes dropped open in recognition, then tensed at the edges in disgust. Requiem veered his head to the side, meeting more eyes, and prompting a jingle from the stupid bell collar that hung, poised and leathery, around his ribbony neck. Not a loner, then. A house cat.

"You took me to a.. a...?" Requiem inquired in hissing undervoice directly into the ear of the tomcat, whose back he was gradually slipping off of. A blue shoulder met his side to prevent this from happening, but the brown tom heaved with the hurt of it. Half-upright, he had made himself a sorry sight for the clan cats that crowded in the clearing, half-devoted to their work in attempts to disguise their attention with motion.

A tomcat, bony brown with a mane of fluent, glossy pelt that only came from the privileged oil-rich diets of house cats and fish-eaters. He didn't smell of forest, or of water, or of riverclan. He reeked of blood, and of road, and of human. His fur, though shiny, was bedraggled with oozing blood that had dried around clumping crevices into browning glue. His body was crumpled and caved in areas that should have been firm with bone, and bruises festered along the right half of his face, encapsulating. Heaves bracketed his sides with the half-intake indicative of broken ribs. Maybe he would have been tall and slender once, but his right forelimb was collapsed in fracture and would be unable to hold him to the pride implied by such an appearance.

He glared at them, as though confusion battled with distasteful recognition, eyes crumpled with scowling pain.

In the absence of anything else to look at, Requiem only wished he had grabbed his pebble when he had the chance.


Tags: @rowanpaw , @Copperstorm , @Seafoambelly , @Flurrypaw , @anyone

 

[rowanpaw]

☆ Rowanpaw is sorting through herbs when Copperstorm and Seafoambelly enter her den, smelling strongly of carrion and the thunderpath. Her head turns immediately, panic rising in her chest— not Copperstorm, surely? Not before he got to see his kits. That would be too cruel.

But the cat that the smell clings too is a stranger. Matted and bloody fur, badly injured. She gets to her feet at once and hurries to his side, eyes moving fast over his body.

"I'm gonna need a stick, as straight as possible," she says to no one in particular, "and water, plenty of water. Please," she adds, looking up at her clanmates. "I'll do everything I can in the meantime."

She turns around and pulls a few things from her stores; poppyseeds for the pain, thyme to keep him calm. She wraps a generous amount of cobwebs around one of her paws, then returns to the stranger's side, she pushes the herbs towards him.

"Eat," she says softly. "It'll help. I promise," then, she begins to push the cobweb against the injuries. His eye socket is bruised but not bleeding too badly, not like Thunderflash was, so she leaves it alone for now. Cold wet moss would do better than cobwebs, most likely.

☆ ROWANPAW. 14 moons
mentored by serpentberry,
adopted daughter of serpentberry and thornstar
peaceful powerplay allowed
ooc - anyone can feel free to fetch what she needs!:3

 

[Requiem]

One of the cats beneath him lulled and Requiem did not groan, but only because they had caught him on an outbreath. The blue she-cat's shoulder dug into his bruised ribs, but he hadn't the voice to correct her, nor the time to, for Requiem feels himself tilt. He tenses suddenly at the sensation of falling, but it's just his saviors ducking to lower him to the ground, and he notices distally that the red light behind his eyelids has darkened with cover from the dusk's light. It was warmer. They were inside.

He forces an eye open, the movement painful and blunt against the dull ache that had captured the right side of his face. Where he had been anticipating the sturdy expanse of the pale wall of a room, native rock and rootage filled the space instead. Plants dangled from vines and clingers he hadn't met the likes of before, each in varying stages of dried and clustered. Maybe if it was lighter in here, he would have been able to pick out the colors of them all, but the dimness had claimed the potential reds and oranges and blues into one formless, muddied hue. The cat before him, however, was close and unmistakably russet. Even through the watery rim of his one good eye he could make out the pale muzzle, the smokepoint of her features, the youthful curve to her face.

She looked like a fox and smelled how he'd imagine them to.

He glared intently, bluntly at the offered seeds and leafy plant as though someone were extending to him a dead rat.
"Yeah?" he slurred in half-speech, eyes following the length of the proferred arm behind the swell. "Fancy yerself a poisoner, little girl?"

The tooth in his tone failed to serve him, for a paw found the bone-carved gash of his shoulder, or was that his arm, and he roiled in stepped hisses through teeth ground so hard they squeaked. In primitive reflex, the kittypet's head was tossed over one shoulder and made to try to bite the cat that was treating him.

Tags: @rowanpaw , @Copperstorm , @Seafoambelly , @Flurrypaw , @anyone
​

 

[Copperstorm]

You walk along the edge of danger
AND IT WILL CHANGE YOU

.

A brown ear flicked lightly at the command the dark-furred cat had given, but the Storm Guard did not obey, not until they were inside the medicine den and Copperstorm had carefully lowered him onto the soft moss. " Save your breath... You took a pretty hard hit, kid. " he rumbled, frowning as his eyes caught the collar around Requiem's neck. He knew it well, his mate had once worn the same kind of thing before thriving in the forest and carrying their kits, if the Stars were willing. " I brought you to someone who can help before your wounds get the better of you. " he grunted, slinking back into the den and ensuring the housecat was settled for Rowanpaw to work her healing.

" We found him at the Thunderpath. Likely hit by one of those monsters. " he explained, turning to Heartpaw, who had peeked inside with wide, fearful eyes. " Heartpaw, get a stick for Rowanpaw, will you? " he instructed, flicking his tail. " Then return to your duties, which do not include watching Rowanpaw work. " A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he caught the apprentice's startled expression. Heartpaw hurried off, muttering a quick: " Yes, of course. "

Copperstorm's ears swiveled sharply at the hissing words from Requiem, golden eyes narrowing as his fur bristled lightly. " She is not trying to poison you. " he spat, moving closer when the kittypet made a snap for Rowanpaw. His gaze hardened, a clear warning in every line of his stance. " Don't be daft, kittypet... " he bit out. " If we wanted to kill you, we'd have left you to wither at the side of the Thunderpath. We brought you here to help, now do yourself a favor and take the herbs, or don't, but be aware you'll be suffering the more if you don't. "

A small voice broke through, and Copperstorm's head turned to see Heartpaw returning. " ... I found you a sturdy stick, Rowanpaw. " she stammered, padding into the den and holding it out gently. " Uh... Get well soon, mister... Sir. " She gave a small nod before darting back out, her duty done.

Copperstorm's tail flicked once as he watched her leave, then his gaze returned to the injured tom, steady and commanding, ensuring that no one would interfere with Rowanpaw's work and their medicine cat was NOT in danger... It was obvious he could not leave the two of them alone, not with the kittypet snapping and prattling nonsense...

Speech, thoughts/emphasis

33 MOONS

𖧧

THUNDERCLAN

𖧧

SONG

𖧧

bio

 

[Seafoambelly]

SEAFOAMBELLY

, 84 moons / THUNDERCLAN RANGER
A long-furred blue-gray she-cat with blue-green eyes.
Sister to URCHINSPINE
Solemn and distant. She doesn't talk much.
SPEECH || THOUGHTS
Tagging @Requiem @rowanpaw @Copperstorm
OOC: Seafoambelly will be just outside the den, listening in, in case of trouble.

---

Seafoambelly couldn't help but narrow her eyes at the injured kittypet. He used what little energy he had in order to accuse their medicine cat of trying to poison him? That simply could not stand. At his lunge, she stepped forward, her teeth bared in a rare show of aggression.

"We're only trying to help," she hissed. "Consider yourself lucky to have been found - kinder cats than you have lost their lives to the monsters out there." Her fur was fluffed, the temper she thought was long gone rekindled by the mix of past and present.

Wave was long gone, but he'd passed in the same manner. If he'd had the same opportunity... the same standard of care that Rowanpaw granted...

If this cat was so determined to let himself die, why shouldn't they let him?

"I can't be here anymore," she mewed, her voice lowering. "I'm sorry, Rowanpaw, Copperstorm. I'll be outside the den should you need me." Without another word, and not even a glance to Requiem, she stepped out of the den, taking up the position of guard outside. If anything happened, she would be there to help those who were only doing what was right.

 

[rowanpaw]

☆ Rowanpaw's eyes widen with shock at the accusation, which hits a little too close to home now– but the loner has no way of knowing what had happened under the half moon. That would stay between her and Starclan forever. And she certainly is not trying to poison him. Once more taken by surprise, she just barely manages to jump out of the way as the cat snaps his jaws at her. Both Copperstorm and Seafoambelly speak in her defence and she'd have to thank them later. She dips her head to Seafoambelly as she leaves, and murmurs a gentle thank you to Heartpaw.

"I am not trying to poison you!" She says, uncharacteristically angry. She softens a little after it, though her hackles are raised. "I'm trying to save your life. Why would my clanmates go through the trouble of bringing you here just so I could poison you? It would've been much easier to just leave you on the thunderpath. If you don't let me set your leg, it's going to heal wrong, if it doesn't kill you first, and it's likely you won't walk on it again. Your eye will probably get infected without proper care, and you'll lose your sight in it. Your cuts are deep, and there may be more injuries hiding under your fur. Without help, you'll die slowly and painfully. With help, you'll live to see another new leaf. But I will not be–" she stops to catch her breath, teeth gritted. She realizes a little too late how like her mother she'd begun to sound, her thinly veiled threats. She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. "I am trying to help you. If you don't want my help, say that instead, although I— I really would like to help you. Nobody deserves to die like this."

☆ ROWANPAW. 14 moons
mentored by serpentberry,
adopted daughter of serpentberry and thornstar
peaceful powerplay allowed
ooc -

 

[Requiem]

With a lot of what they called convincing and he called whining, Requiem was steered back down into something that echoed the vague shape of cooperation. He rumbled over the facts, considered the smell of the plants placed before him, but ultimately chose the cowardly route. His teeth snapped shut, not on any cat, but in the finality of his decision. They smelled of dirt, tasted bitter on the air, and the number of muzzles wrinkled around bitten words in the air was effective against his wound-weakened resolve. While it tamed Requiem into some primal part of him that quivered instead of bit, so too did it paralyze him for rational decision-making. Maybe when he had tossed his dark head into a deep arch near into his shoulder blades and saw the mousy young apprentice returning with a sturdy-looking branch for Rowanpaw's efforts did he break open on some realization.

They were making sense, and he hated the fact.
But could not argue their logic.
Yet.

He was vaguely thankful to learn that he even still had a leg to be saved.

Even Rowanpaw's anger looked youthful.

Requiem's brow set stoney over his angry yellow eyes and he pulled his face back in a snarl, teeth crunched on a rumble. "Fine," he growled, tone holding every dismissive wave his body was incapable of pantomiming. "Agh, fine! Do what you will then, do what you—" Broken ribs did not consider their wearer's intentions, if they are pulled by a muscle in breath or in speech that they did not anticipate, they will protest. This looked like a great tensing of whatever Requiem had sensation enough to tense, his brows scrunching and his teeth latching over what turned out to be his mid-spoken tongue. He was suspended like this momentarily, taut at every instance, against the sharp hurt in his side, before his body released him and he cascaded, limp, against the nest in shallow, stepped breaths.

The look he speared Rowanpaw with was wide around a kind of naive fear, strange to see in the face of a grown man.
​

tags: @rowanpaw, @Copperstorm

(And thank you, @Seafoambelly.)