do what you won't regret | p

[val]

hand-warmed coins dropped under couches. it smelled like those. blood, anyway. it was blood. tangy. irritating because it was faintly sweet, yet it still seeped underneath his claws. the tackiness is hard to wash away. a creek would do better, if he knew where he was going to find one.

well. he did.

he got his answer after all. covered in blood, compass rusted and map yellowed with poor choices, in perfect hindsight.

i'm justified. just this once.

(hello i'm right here.)

a dry tone to match the dry grass. no rivers here, nope.

well.

there's this scent.

what - seems familiar -

Vulturefang.

not exactly the ugly tom he grappled with once? twice? and glared at too many times to count, but he knew the scent best off of him, moons later and earths away. which meant...

ShadowClan.

ugh. those guys?? he'd have preferred to stumble across RiverClan - if just to wash his damn paws. besides, he never fought Gingerfrost. just Vulturefang. and anyways, Dawnstar was practically a nightmare come true. she could pick him up by the scruff and hurl him halfway across the clans, if he didn't get killed from being in close proximity to her first.

however, judging by the lack of impending doom he'd felt at the Surge, he assumed the titan wasn't there.

(so you'll stand there like an idiot, then?)

his gaze swept over the shadows cast by the coniferous pines, needles like raven feathers blocking out the sunlight. what a desolate place to live, he mused with little pity. it looked no different than the many times he'd patrolled along Herondive Hollow in the past, across the ravine and atop the tree trunk bridge.

the shadows warped and grew, rising in ocean tides and flickering like flames licking at the soft bark. they danced a haunting dance, and sent numb chills creeping up his extremities. crawling ivy quivered as his russet, grungy pelt brushed it. dew from the underside of the broad leaves slicked onto his fur when he halted and settled back uneasily on his scarred haunches.

(this again?)

like i can help it.

(hear that?)

hear what? ears stood up on alert and swiveled around to catch the sounds in the wells of cartilage. the whistle wind. chittering finches.

hear what?

eyes narrowed. i swear to that holier-than-thou council, if there's patrol out there bumbling over right now... he grumbled unhappily under his raspy breath.

(get going, would you?

@alec / rookfire

[alec]

ROOKFIRE
[ he/him | shadowclan medicine cat app | purrks ]
[ #rookMCA24 ]

traversing along the stretch of shadowclan territory once more, paws heavy with moisture and the air a biting cool evident of the changing seasons. the sky was a pale blue, thin whisps of clouds stretching sparingly across the watercolour tinted endless horizon, pale reds and oranges stretching further and further as the sun rose over the thick canopy of evergreen trees. it wasnt quite cool enough for rookfires breathing to whisp little clouds in the air with every exhale, but it burned at the back of his throat all the same, in a way, it felt like drowning he'd imagine. the only thing he was missing now was the building pressure, the weight of a indescribeble amount of water pressing down on his chest as lungs scream for air. irrelevant thoughts dissintipated without the foggy landscape of his mind like the moisture dried off the grass and trees as each day stretched on.

he was close to the border now, shifting attention from pondering life to keeping an eye open for outsiders, the leaves of bushes shifting in the slight breeze and eventual creaking of old trees accompanied by the heavy woody smell ever reaccouring after rainfall and at this time of the season cycle, in the early moments of each day. ever the shadowclan warrior (or at least trying to be) rookfire kept quiet as he slipped along trees and through undergrowth, avoiding the rustle of bushes, moving along the wind and masking his own steps by its whistle and shake. by the time rookfire peeked through, cool grey eyes finally finding the imaginary line of very much real scent markers he knew what had caused the unusual alertness besides the cool temperatures. clearly close to the border, a unfamiliar cat, one he didnt hesitate to approach. pushing out through a thorned piece of undergrowth, the medic stepped into the light. "what're you doin' here?" accusatory, that was reflecting clearly in his tone, entirely ignoring that at this moment in time, the outsider was yet to cross the border. they are close enough to pose a risk his mind supplied helpfully as if he wasnt already well aware of that aspect of their situation.

[ here i am! finally. @val ]

[val]

(SEE WHAT I TOLD YOU.)

you didn't tell me -

tongue caught, snagged, thorns in his throat constricting tight, no no no (you can do this), what kind of positivity garbage was that -

"i'm takin' over ShadowClan. duh," he snapped, unbridled sarcasm and dryness (dehydrated, much?) curdling something rotten yet familiar in his tone. "what the - hell - can't a - " he broke off his sputtering sentence, stumbling over the clamoring shouts of IRK shoving to make themselves known through his voice. he grit his teeth and bit them back, their words taking advantage of his disorientation.

(calm down.)

 

DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO I'LL KILL US BOTH!!

a rough paw scrubbed down over his face tiredly, and congratulations, now the crust was on his maw. he flexed his claws again, tightening them over his muzzle briefly before slamming the paw down onto the forest floor. the hairs on his spine lifted from the sheer irritation shuddering in his veins. a scream died in his throat before it could sound.

his dull gaze flicked over the strange pelt. two-tone. muscular. kinda skinny. scars... scars... his eyes lingered on those longer, then drifted to the face. the eye.

can i fight him? just 'cause?

(a breeze could knock your pathetic ass to the ground.)

he licked his parched tongue over his one cracked canine. a mistake of his. a can had looked appealing enough in a particularly desperate moment when he'd still been in the Twolegplace.

(also could you please stop having an episode in front of your new friend.)

a sigh. "y'wan' me t' leave, yeah? that's what this's 'bout?" he mumbled out. he already knew the stranger's answer. it had to be any clan cat's answer. of course they wanted him to leave. he would've said the same. and more.

his tail unfurled from his side, as he'd unknowingly wrapped it close around himself in some pathetic self-hug, and he trapped it under his paws briefly to pry a bramble or burr or whatever loose from it. With that matter resolved, he got to his paws, careful of his ratcheting heart-rate.

(pass out in front of this guy. it'd be hilarious.)

i'd rather not.

@alec | ^_^

[alec]

ROOKFIRE
[ he/him | shadowclan medicine cat app | purrks ]
[ #rookMCA24 ]
[cw: brief description of crowfood/maggots in the last sentences of the first block of text ]

whisker 'brow's pulled up in lazy curiosity, silently reinforcing his question, rookfire awaited the strangers answer.
"save the snark for someone who cares" the medic deadpanned, clearly not up for any joking when faced with a unfamiliar cat right at the border, alone but not automatically determined to not pose a threat in rooks books. the other cat was nothing but off putting if rook was honest, disorganised speech and some kind of turmoil, even if he couldnt place its origin. faint familiarity nudged at the back of his mind, vague recognition of patterns. the medicine cat opened his maw slightly, attempting to catch the outsiders scent, prepared for the sweet-sour sickening combination one infected by something tended to carry, almost like rot in a way, crowfood slowly melting off the bones and rejoining the soil as a sickly maggot infested sludge. despite all he recognised as sickness, he came up with nothing, no overwhelming sweet scent, off in just the way he had learned to fear.

still, the odd behaviour remained. the other tom had lifted a paw to his muzzle before slamming it back down, short cutting from a regular conversation, telling a outsider to leave and hoping they'd take the hint to the former enforcer shifting into a more battle ready stance, fur bristling along his neck and shoulders. "yeah, ya better leave b'fore i make ye" he snapped back immediately, voice almost overlapping with the others, single white tipped ear laying snugly against his skull.
had the stranger not acted in a way that made every single of rookfires alarm bells ring in a alarming volume, he mightve told him that shadowclan took outsiders in if they could earn their keep. now, that was off the table. besides the rather dishevelled state the other sported, he hadnt been completely convinced he would be a useless clanmate, had somehow survived in the outskirts n all but erratic behaviour was not something he wanted to be around. if they met dawnstar or mistlewhisker and either of the higher ranked she cats let him in, rookfire would accept him, but like this and with the decision in his paws? no. no way.

[ @val ]

[val]

psh. who's this? mr. bloodandgore? darkmysteriousnightwarrior? so angsty. might be as bad as his juvenile self. he rolled his eyes at the Shadowclanner, and regretted the motion a split-second later when his head ached. some people just don't have any whimsy, he told himself.

(yeah. i can name a few.)

freak.

......uuhuuhghUGGHHHHGH!! talking again, always talking, talking and so -- !

a scoff brushed off his tongue and cut off the thought before it could spit venom into his mushy brain. "who crawled into your nest and died??" he asked rhetorically, more than annoyed. your mom, perhaps?

(you should make him make you. haha.)

yeah?

(no. idiot.)

"you talk weird. by the way," he jibed, as if it didn't remind him of Rabbit.

Rabbit would have been nicer, though perhaps that was his outsider nature. even if he'd gotten to see the fantastical lands the long-gone friend (? that remained. questionable. changing. nothing resonates.) had come from, it never gave him insight into his mind. he still doesn't get it. being open and kind, he meant.

this guy probably wouldn't, either. this guy probably didn't turn out right, like a cracked egg: ugly duckling, the kind with teeth. he's never met an ass who didn't have something -

(CORNBALL. YAWN. SNOOZEFEST. SHUT UP AND LEAVE ALREADY. YAP YAP YAP YAP WHO CARES -)

well, whatever, he didn't care, certainly not about this rat, and he had more important things to do.

with a flick of his tail, for balance more than anything, he turned back the way he came. time to. find. hhhh. mind. hello. yes it's me again. find me food. no that's how this works. oh yeah. water. shoulda asked - nah, wouldn't tell -

he narrowly dodged bumping into a tree. it's hard to see past your nose in the shadows. that's his excuse, anyway. sometimes he glanced back over his shoulder, wary of being followed. what if that guy decided to just kill him instead, play a game of chase? through the forest? wouldn't that be right up ShadowClan's alley. he can't imagine them doing anything else with their free time.

even so, he picked up his paws lighter as he ventured away. it's better to listen for pawsteps, just in case. nobody around here is really trustworthy.

(hey. you look weird, by the way. heh.)

a grimace crossed his face. matted tail tucked closer to his side.

@alec