[sleepyyjax]

Newtbelly
he/him | Agatha Kitty, Shadow Fiend | 17 moons

header: @/daragca
content: injury detail, animal death

Despite his wounds being far less severe than Owlthroat, the tom felt himself limping far harder. Never had he felt such a pain, burning its way through his shoulder and ribs like a parasite. A lie down in the medicine den would be welcomed. As they entered camp, he tossed the lone rat onto the prey pile - all he had to show for their troubles. Well, at least the fox had been banished, limp body a warning sign to future trespassers. Maybe they hadn't brought much back with them, but in looks alone their entrance was impressive, no?

Had he been alone, he'd be dead by now - he knew that. But he wouldn't let it eat him up as he limped through the clearing. He'd simply get stronger, faster, he had time. No cat expects a warrior to be a fox slayer, he reminded himself - though Owlthroat thankfully was one.

As they entered the den, various scents assaulted his nose. Believe it or not, he'd never been here before. In his 17 moons he'd escaped any sickness or injury, and he'd never wanted to enter for any other reason.

Owlthroat called out to Mossfreckle. He figured he wouldn't say anything at all for now, after all, what was there to say? One look at the two of them should be enough. Owlthroat's fur dripped scarlet, rarely was its usual pale colour visible, if at all. Newtbelly wasn't quite as affected. White paws were stained right through, blood streaked up his legs, shoulder bitten straight into (thankfully, not torn as he'd feared), and his side gashed. His first scars. He felt far too old to just only be obtaining them - despite that, he did feel a sense of pride. Sure, he didn't have Owlthroat's ferocity, the ability to tear a throat out, but he'd escaped a fox with only two injuries. That had to be impressive, right? Even if he owed it to Owlthroat.

@elio
@Daragca