WindClan Elders' Den

[Tallstar]

Duckthroat
106 Moons
He/Him,They/Them

Duckthroat shifted restlessly on his mossy bedding, his old bones protesting with every movement. The chill in the WindClan air seeped into his fur, making his joints ache more than usual. He squinted at the entrance of the elder’s den, feeling a pang of frustration.

“Why does it seem so much farther today?” he muttered, trying to muster the strength to rise. The familiar surroundings of the den, once comforting, now felt like a prison. His paws, gnarled with age, trembled as he pushed himself up. He was determined to visit the fresh-kill pile, even if the thought of walking there seemed daunting.

“I’ll just get a bite and come right back,” he said aloud, his voice rough but resolute. With a final deep breath, he forced himself to his feet, each step an effort. Duckthroat’s heart ached with both physical pain and the frustration of his declining abilities. He glanced around at his fellow elders, all of whom were wrapped in their own quiet struggles.

“Stay strong, old friend,” he whispered to himself as he shuffled towards the entrance. Each step felt like a battle, but he was a warrior at heart, and this was a challenge he intended to face head-on.

OPEN (help the grandpa) @Oliver

[nyme]

ALL I EVER WANTED
WAS TO BE OF WILDFLOWERS

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ❀ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

MAGGOTKIT . 5 MOONS . IT/ITS . WINDCLAN

"Duckthroat! Did you hear about the cat who ate grasshoppers, and then he could jump really high but he jumped too high and he hit his head on a Starclan cat and then—" Maggotkit's babbling happily as it saunters to the elder's den, excited to share a new story (that it's basing largely on recent experiences) and to ask for some more from a real story-master, but it skids to a wobbling halt at the mouth of the den. Seeing elders move slowly is nothing new, but something about Duckthroat's present struggle makes it feel...odd. It's not something Maggotkit has a name for, but it's tender and it hurts.

"Are you..." It hesitates, creeping into the den to sniff the old cat. "You're moving funny. Do your legs work?" Maybe Duckthroat needs to eat some grasshoppers. It wonders if there's a story that could help this, but it's suddenly got no appetite for make-believe.

@Tallstar ; DUCKTHROAT

[Tallstar]

Duckthroat
106 Moons
He/Him
They/Them
Duckthroat's ears twitch as the little kit's voice filters through the den. The elder's movements are slow and labored, and though he manages a slow turn of his head to greet Maggotkit, there's a shadow of weariness in his gaze that seems more profound than usual.

The old cat lets out a soft, almost wistful purr. "Ah, Maggotkit. You're as lively as ever. My legs don’t quite work like they used to," he admits, his voice raspy but gentle. He gestures with a shaky paw for the kit to come closer. "It's not the grasshoppers I need, but thank you for thinking of me."

Duckthroat’s eyes crinkle with a fond smile as he watches Maggotkit’s curious face. “Sometimes, the stories we tell are as important as the stories we hear. How about you share one with me? Your tales are always so full of imagination. They might just be the perfect remedy for an old cat's weary bones."

He shifts a little, trying to get comfortable on his mossy nest. The effort seems to cost him, but he hides it well, focusing on the kit’s enthusiastic face instead/CENTER]
@nyme

[nyme]

ALL I EVER WANTED
WAS TO BE OF WILDFLOWERS

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ❀ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

MAGGOTKIT . 5 MOONS . IT/ITS . WINDCLAN

Maggotkit's little face crumpled. If not grasshoppers, then what? Herbs, maybe? Is Duckthroat a sick-cat? Maggotkit disapproves of the use of herbs on principle (what a silly waste of perfectly good flowers and leaves!), but if they make cats better then maybe there's some kind of legs-fixer-upper-herb and that's what Duckthroat needs. Maggotkit's stuck wondering how best to bother someone about getting these prizes flowers and/or leaves into Duckthroat ASAP when the elder makes his request. Oh. A story, then. A story will fix this.

It pauses, thinking hard. There's a few false starts, a few little sputters, but finally it figures out what it wants to say. The beginning is slow...

"Um so. So once, there was a warrior, and he was...he was just a warrior. He wasn't very quick or very smart or very strong. He wasn't even little or tall or quiet or loud, either. It was like he didn't have a face. Or like he was nothing and nobody at all. That's also why he doesn't have a name." Maggotkit hovered close to Duckthroat. It wants to be close, as if this might help somehow, but it isn't sure how to help. It wishes Duckthroat was little like a kit, and that it was big like a warrior, so it could pick him right up. It stretches its legs as if willing that to happen...but alas: Maggotkit stays a pale, greasy little shrimp. Tsk. One day...

"One day, the warrior without a name's whole - camp - shook! It shook like this: boom...boom...boom." Maggotkit stamps its feet to emphasize each slow thud. "Boom...boom...boom. So the leader, Tw—uh...Twistystar, sent all her very quickest warriors out of camp to see what was booming and shaking so much. They all had pointy faces and quick-y quick names, like Runnyfoot and Faststep and Speedlegs. And so the clan waited and waited..." Maggotkit's voice drops into a foreboding whisper, "but Runnyfoot and Faststep and Speedlegs never came back. And then it happened again, even louder this time: boom...boom...boom."

Again with the steady stomps and the deep, theatric growls. Maggotkit is making a whole production of this.

"With all her fastest warriors gone and the sun going down, Twistystar planned for the worst. She gathered up all her smartest and most clever warriors and told them to make the camp even stronger and more hidden. These cats all had wise faces and smarty-fur names, like Cleverhead and Knowsall and Quickthink, and even the medicine cat, Trickysmart. So they all went to make the camp walls even stronger and more hidden...But then something in the dark snatched them up! First poor Cleverhead, who went: ahhh! And then Knowsall, who screamed: eeek! And then Quickthink, who cried: nooo! And then, Trickysmart. Trickysmart disappeared without even a sound. So then all the smartest cats were gone forever. And you know what happened next?"

Maggotkit pauses for effect. Its sickly yellow eyes are wide, sparkling with delight, and then it begins again with the stomping: "Boom! Boom!! Boom!!! The biggest, scariest, meanest monster of them all, bigger than foxes or badgers or anything, stomped right into camp! It was called Bigteeth, and it was sooo hungry. It had already eaten quick-cats and smart-cats, but it wanted more. All the strongest cats in the clan got up. They all had big, muscle-y faces and tough-strong names like Powerkick, Shredclaw, and Heavyhits, and even the deputy, Greatslap! The strongest warriors in the clan and deputy Greatslap ran forward to fight and hit and to rip and tear and to shred and slap...and Bigteeth ate them all up! It gobbled up Powerkick and gulped down Shredclaw and snacked on Heavyhits, then it swallowed down Greatslap. Now there were no more strong-cats."

"So now it was just the little cats left. Not little like tiny, but little like...like...like what you are when you're not smart or strong or fast. Like what you are when you're not a warrior or a medicine cat or a big, strong deputy. Cats who don't have faces yet, or maybe never did, or maybe they lost them. Cats like the warrior without a name, who hadn't yet gone to fight against Bigteeth. Twistystar couldn't send him, because he didn't have a name to call. But he was there the whole time."

Here is where Maggotkit pauses a while longer, delaying the ending so it can catch its breath. This is a lot of talking. It takes the break as a chance to really scrutinize Duckthroat, wondering if the story was really helping at all. Cautious, Maggotkit leans forward in an attempt to softly press the flat top of its head against the elder as if it means to beam good intent into him that way. It's not really sure why it does this; it just feels the need. Duckthroat might smell a little more like Maggotkit after this, a thought that makes it happy. All the things it likes should smell like it.

@Tallstar ; DUCKTHROAT