Mistlewhisker
ShadowClan Deputy
she/her | 42 moons
[Large black cat with a half white muzzle and a pale green eye] Purrks: Beefed Up T3, Shadow Fiend, Mind Reader
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[Grousepaw - @redshiftreign ]
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Mistlewhisker glanced around, noting the setting sun. It seemed as though Glowingpaw was not going to show up. Mistlewhisker stood, flexing her shoulders in a stretch before turning to Grousepaw. “We need to head back. Patrols will be reporting to you.” Mistlewhisker moved towards camp, then paused. What was she to say? Glowingpaw would turn up? With all the missing cats and attacks recently, she doubted that statement. It was clear Grousepaw was hesitant. The deputy sighed internally, moving towards Grousepaw. “We have a duty to the clan.” She murmured, meeting their gaze. “That duty comes before anything else.” They had to go.
GROUSEPAW THE TRAILBLAZER
⋆˖ The Fool ˖⋆ SILVER TONGUE - JUST A SCRATCH - BURN, BABY, BURN
"now i'm pretty sure there isn't gonna be some little fix, the game wasn't rigged by accident."
grousepaw did not want to leave. frantic, amber eyes flickered across the landmark desperate and hungry like fire to dry kindling. he had spent the past few moons swallowing down the spit-fire coals on his tongue, and they were burning him alive from the inside out. all that smoke had to go somewhere, and it made him dizzy.
don't panic. don't panic. don't panic. grouse was good at keeping his head on his shoulders, but he couldn't help the panic that bubbled up, frightened and suffocating like the smoke in his lungs. like the ire he swallowed down.
that one phrase. . . pissed him off more than any slight could. it made him want to wretch up every stifled flame and burn the whole world down in a flood of fire and fury. the clan? that's what she's worried about? the stars-damned clan?
but she had a point, grouse conceded. through gritted teeth and bristling fur, he swallowed hard like hot stones.
but how he yearned to shed that responsibility he had so fervently agreed too and parade through the forest hunting for his kin, yelling profanities about the absurdity of this mortal coil, futile subjugation under a tyrant. imposed ideals and notions that held no real bearing. he hated it. he hated all of it.
he wanted his brother.
he was overreacting.
"okay." he said, with a non-negligible amount of tired resignation. glowingpaw knew his way around the territory. . . he could. . . they could find their way home.
grouse hoped. and had his doubts. and felt dread curl into his chest.
he turned wordlessly and streaked with long, purposed strides towards camp, eyes equally firey and devastated. our duty to the clan comes first? what a joke.
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grousepaw is shadowclan's medicine cat apprentice
they and mossfreckle have a semi-closed den policy.
Just when she thought she could sleep. Boom, herb patrol. She would've grunted in protest if her paws still felt the irritation of the stinging nettles, but they didn't. A miracle, Mudslide would've chewed off her own paws if that pain carried on any longer. Rookfire was taking her out to Evergreen Grotto, and Mudslide still felt oddly unsure of the name of the area. It was a short walk, and her long legs allowed her longer strides. She kept her eyes focused on whatever was infront of her and avoided Rookfire's gaze entirely unless she was spoken to, but the same couldn't be said for Rookfire himself.
He just kept looking at her and it made her want to bolt ahead of him or turn right back around and run for camp. She felt his gaze on her pelt, and she took the opportunity to once again curse her unfortunate genetics. Why couldn't she just be insignificant? Just another cat in a large and overly crowded clearing. But nooooo, life just hated her too much for that. So, she padded on, her oriental ears flicking every once in a while or whenever a bird chirped overhead.
Shouting distance? Mudslide internally winced. She couldn't shout, she could barely talk. She slowed her pace and offered the enforcer an acknowledging nod. Holding his gaze was far harder compared to other cats, especially since she saw herself in his features, like an oddly distorted mirror. It was creepy, new, it gave her hope, and she didn't like it. She ducked away from him as soon as she could, not even giving him a second glance. Quiet paws rustled between blades of grass as she kept her head low and searched for moss. It took her twenty seconds.
ROLLING FOR HARVESTABILITY... MUDSLIDE ROLLED A 20
(harvest complete!)
ROLLING FOR CONDITIONS... MUDSLIDE ROLLED A 14
(slightly damaged, but usable)
[+1 moss]
ROLLING FOR HARVESTABILITY... MUDSLIDE ROLLED A 20
(harvest complete!)
ROLLING FOR CONDITIONS... MUDSLIDE ROLLED A 13
(completely intact!)
[+1 moss]
mudslide remained silent, rookfire was growing uncomfortable. he liked quiet companions, not silent. stars had he rather said goodbye to his pride and begged mossfreckle, who he was quite sure would not step foot out of camp with rookfire alone, to tag along instead.. though tragically, not was too late so he just turned to get to collecting. now, the bad thing was (besides mudslides complete and utter silence) that between all the thoughts and discomfort, the specific herbs he had come here for had slipped his mind, or maybe his roleplayer simply forgot to assign specific herbs for this particular one. after a bit of mindless wandering trying to get his head straight, both regarding the lingering confusion around mossfreckle and the very much still present discomfort around mudslide. he shouldnt be acting like this, rookfire was an enforcer after all, and with a murderer still roaming the forest, he ought to focus on more than the way mudslide reminded him of his mother and mossfreckle made him feel weird sometimes. a sign escaped rooks maw and he almost (focus on ALMOST) stumbled over a thick stick. 'might as well' there was no battle in the foreseeable future, but cats managed to break their limbs all the time..
for simplicities sake, rookfire decided to just collect chervil, he had spent an awful lot of time just wandering around and at least he knew where he could find that around here. chervil was collected easily enough, it wasnt his favourite herb for no reason, and he was back to thinking about something else to collect.
[ rolls: 3x for chervil: 13, 15, 18. open slots: 4 ]
[ collected: 1 sturdy stick, 3 chervil ]
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"i wish things were different, but it werent us who changed."
Re: Evergreen Grotto
