- Jun 22, 2023
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༄.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — tw mentions for: death, blood, suicidal ideation (✦ next to it)
The cold breeze nips at him as his paws sink further into the snow and his dark eyes glance to the jagged points of the mountain, a frown pulling at his lips as he shakes off the small layer of snow that had formed on his body. His legs wobble from the fatigue and exhaustion that begins to pull at his body trying to coax him into giving up to rest his body onto the snowy landscape. So, the mountain may drain whatever warmth continues to reside within his body and drain it of him slowly but he refuses as he pushes on with every step. Each one feels like he risks sinking further and further into the snow but his paws carry him to a place that he hasn't seen in an entire cycle. Has it truly been that long since he's seen her or felt the warmth of her fur pressed to his own? He isn't certain as the thought of her eyes crinkling whenever she smiled, oh, those very same eyes that reminded him of new-leaf. He misses her so, so dearly yet as the snow continues to fall and the wind shoves him in every direction, he can't help this feeling of impending doom or the way his limbs droop due to how tired he is.
Let me rest, I've carried on like you've wished of me. I've done everything you wanted. Have I not given enough of myself to earn a stay by your side yet? What more do you wish of me? How much longer must I tread despite the way my paws feel calloused and worn out? How much more do I have to lose when I barely have anything left? Why are you taking from me? Is this what I must endure?
He comes to a halt as he finally reaches the peak of the mountain and his eyebrows knit together as he gazes upon the grave that's been alone for an entire year now. A paw brushes the snow away from the stones that had been placed there carefully and it presses into the earth wishing that it would melt away to give way to the person he misses the most. His lips twitch as a saddened smile crosses his face and he allows his body to collapse onto the cold ground, his eyes feeling heavy as a shaky breath slips from his mouth. His ears pressed flat against his skull as the sound of larger pawsteps crushing the snow catches his attention, he lowers himself into the floor only to see the large silhouette of a beast. Its golden eyes staring right through him and a low growling emits from its throat, he believes that it'll lunge and tear his throat but instead the creature's head tilts back to let out a long howl.
The baying creature's song causes his entire body to rattle and he's paralyzed in place, unable to move a single muscle despite the way he wishes to flee. There's a sudden trembling but he isn't certain if it's his own tired body or if it's the very mountain itself, his eyes widened at the sight of the rocks placed near the grave of his loved one beginning to fall out of place. He wishes that he could move his paws enough so that he could fix it but the creature’s staring directly at him, it no longer sings its tune and takes a step toward him. The mountain seems to groan and the jagged points violently shake, he snaps his eyes towards them in fear of what may come. His mouth feels dry as he remembers that he isn't alone yet when he glances in the direction of the wolven-like creature, it's gone.
The grave of his loved one is ruined but he isn't given a chance to undo the damage as the jagged points of the mountain begin to close down onto him. His heart in his throat watching as the mountain shifts, the song of the beast ringing in his ears once more, and it closes with a sudden snap much like jaws. He's engulfed by the sudden darkness only to feel himself falling and falling further into the abyss. He feels as if he will never find the end of it before hitting the ground harshly, his pupils dilated with shock as he takes in the sight of his woodland home. His paws tearing into Mother Earth's soil and plucking out blades of grass with his claws as if to hold himself there not wishing to fall once more. A ragged breath slipping out from his throat as he attempts to catch his breath, he stops entirely seeing a blue blur bolt past him.
“Batwing?” He barely manages to whisper as the silver tom barely manages to push himself onto his paws. His first steps shaky only to slowly turn to an awkward gait then full-on sprinting in hopes of catching up with his best friend. No matter his efforts, Gentlestorm finds himself falling behind seeing the late lead warrior becoming a dot in the distance. “Please…” The older tom begs as if his pleas would be heard by the chimera, it's then that Gentlestorm realizes that they aren't alone. The sound of leaves being crushed underneath large paws and several pawsteps thundering on the ground causes his entire body and pelt to prickle. His pupils grow to the size of the moon when he hears the hounds trampling through the forest with excited pants as they begin to close the distance between them and Batwing.
He wants to scream so that he may warn the other but when his jaws part, the words refuse to fall out from his throat and his eyes begin to sting. His breathing grows ragged as if he's been running for an eternity in his futile attempt to save Batwing despite the way he knows how this dream ends each and every time. I can save him this time, is what he truly believes despite his delusions and his snowy paws strike the ground several times trying to keep up with the pack so he can reach the blue smoke first.
Salty tears pinprick the corners of his eyes only to stream down his face seeing the gorge at the end where the thick foliage of the forest begins to part. No, no, no. Not again. Gentlestorm manages to catch up and run ahead as his paws stretch out in an attempt to stop the blue savior from throwing himself over, their eyes locking with one another, and the rough pads of his paw touch the short hair belonging to his best friend… He'll succeed this time… It's what he wished to believe until he's pushed away by the very tom himself as if to say ‘not you but me’ only to plummet towards the strong currents below once more. Gentlestorm skids to a halt as he rests at the edge of the gorge and helplessly reaches out with a stark dipped paw, his body shakes violently with heavy sobs but not a sound leaves his maw.
And when he thought that things couldn't possibly get worse, the ground began to crumble underneath his large body. Gentlestorm curls into a tight ball not wishing to see the strong currents underneath accept him greedily into their arms despite having taken many. Everything begins to spin when he finally hits the water with a loud splash and the breath from his lungs are whisked away with ease, he unfurls slowly watching as the water pushes him up and down teasing him with the surface that rests above his head. The large healer doesn't bother fighting the currents instead choosing to allow himself to its mercy and let it decide his fate. His eyes grow heavy as they close for what feels like the final time…
Several coughs leave him as he gulps down in the air, his claws digging into the pebble-covered shore. His gaze dull as it lifts, turning to a familiar spot with jagged rocks, there's nothing at first until he blinks and sees the crumpled form of his hero. The silver tom pressed his face into the wet sand as his large paws covered his head, a hoarse plea coming from his throat “Stop… please… stop…” A pathetic whimper that leaves him as his body trembles once more with raw screams that tear itself from his throat. Where had his voice been when he needed to warn Batwing of the danger chasing him? Where had he been when the blue smoke needed him? Why did he continue to fail over and over again? What purpose do his paws serve if he isn't able to aid those in need and ensure they live?
His paws move away from his head at last and his vision is blurry as he notices the blood coating his chest, maw, and forelimbs. The medicine cat can feel his heart in his throat once more and his body trembling as he struggles to breathe. It feels as if a paw is pressed down on his throat making it difficult to catch his breath and he can feel his mouth is incredibly dry despite the metallic tang of blood on his tongue. The lifeless body of Darkthistle lays before him with terror contorted on his face and a bubbly foam around his mouth. The way his eyes are glazed over with death causes his chest to tighten and he begins to find it harder to breathe, he closes his eyes trying to tell himself it's just a nightmare. Just a bad dream.
✦ He reopens them to see the wolven-like beast standing before him once more as it stares down at him. Gentlestorm licks his lips trying to get rid of the dry feeling in his mouth and throat with his ears pressed flat against his skull. The creature is coated with blood on the same areas as his own body and his eyes widen at the sight. The wolf peers at the form of Darkthistle then back to the silver tom as it takes a step closer and crushes something underneath a large paw. It lifts its paw to see what had been stepped on only to unintentionally kick a vibrant, crimson berry in the direction of the old tomcat. For a heartbeat, he can see his own reflection on the deathberry and his heartbeat begins to slow down. The world seems to slow down as well but before the large feline could react or utter a single word, the wolf lunges at him with parted jaws…
His eyes open for the millionth time and they seem to sting, a sniffle leaves him only to realize the sudden weight held in his arms. Hot, sticky blood still holds onto his chest and arms but not on his mouth. He's confused for a few heartbeats only to realize who he's holding in his arms and the silvery tom can feel his heart shatter into several little pieces. Little Wolf. A saddened smile on her face as an inky paw reaches to touch his face and selfishly, he leans into it immediately as his breathing grows ragged once more. Fat tears roll off his cheeks only to drop gently onto her own face and she mumbles something that he can hardly hear. Once more, he begins to beg for her not to leave him again but he knows how it ends… She dies in his arms.
He swallows down a lump as he nuzzles into the fur of her neck and grits his teeth wanting to scream at Silverpelt that hangs over his head. It taunts him in a way… Gentlestorm's ready to do such but when his head lifts does he realize the trail of bodies that are behind his fallen mate and he holds his breath once more. Leopardtongue, Berryheart, Duskbird Howlingstar, Moonwhisper, Lightstrike, Magpiepaw, and so many more of his clanmates or friends lay on the ground lifeless in front of him. He could've saved them… If he had done more they'd all be alive, the words Howlingstar had once said to him falling on deaf ears, and his ears pressed further into his head as he shook it. The world begins to spin as his ears ring and the words of those lost to him echo throughout his mind.
I love you. I love you, Hailstorm.
So, I have chosen my next apprentice. He has a pair of talented paws.
Don't apologize, Hailstorm. There is nothing you could have done.
I love you…
And you… You have saved my life. Remember…
Thank you, Gentlestorm.
His breath hitches too scared to open his eyes despite the way he sobs and hiccups pathetically. Flashes of Doepath, Orangepaw, Flamestar, and several others being injured flicker within his mind. “Please… no more… I can't take anymore…” He croaks hating the way that his voice begins to crack from the overwhelming amount of emotions that wash over him. “I beg you… a moon or an entire cycle without loss… please… I've given my all to you… please.” The sepia tom begs under his breath still holding the form of his mate and finally, he dares to open his eyes to see what else would be revealed to him. It is then he realizes the absence in his arms and hears the sudden snap as a large branch falls in his direction, his eyes growing wide as he's unable to react and it impales him.
Gentlestorm wakes up in a cold sweat as a gasp slips from his mouth and he can feel his arms wrapped around something. He glances down realizing it's the mound of moss and nesting material he uses to mimic the form of someone laying next to him. The silver toned healer pushes it away swiftly as he sits up on his haunches to touch his chest to make sure that no splinters were there. A sigh of relief slips from his jaws when the realization of him being alive settles in and his ragged breathing finally eases a bit. He goes over a few of the breathing exercises that he normally went through with Roeflame whenever she seemed to be struggling and it gives him relief. The sound of cricket song outside of his den tells him that it's still dark out and it's enough to make a frown pull at his lips.
It seems that he will be going without any sleep tonight, although the loss itself doesn't seem to bother him. He'd rather not become a victim of his mind and guilt of surviving and outliving his friends. He slips out into camp taking comfort in the cool leaf-fall air as he stands there briefly glancing in the direction of the warriors who stood guard tonight. His dark gaze casts itself to the night sky littered with several stars that twinkle back at him and he closes his eyes for a heartbeat. It dawns on him that it's been an entire cycle since the passing of Little Wolf and her sacrifice. His mind briefly wanders to think about Cherryblossom within Skyclan, who is safe and alive due to his mate having given her life to save the young tortoiseshell. Did the mottled moggy ever regret such a thing? He doesn't even know nor does he wish to.
He should collect flowers for the makeshift grave he had made Little Wolf a while ago, a part of him wishing she hadn't passed within the mountains beyond Highstones. He feels she's farther than him in both life and death, it bothers him to a certain degree… Her words in the back of his mind about the two of them returning to the forest and here he is… alone. A dry laugh leaves Gentlestorm as he pushes away the plants that draped over his den and he feels as if he serves no purpose, at least, not at the given moment. Perhaps, he could go for a late night walk but he knows the potential threats that he could end up running into. It's far too risky when he's the only one making sure that the clan stays in good health. Maybe he could convince one of the warriors from the den to accompany him on this small mission of his but… who would be up at this hour?
A lot of them would be sound asleep curled with their mates or nose tucked in their tails. He doubts anyone would be too happy about him disturbing their sleep and his earthy toned eyes turn in the direction of the leader's den where Flamestar slumbers. A snowy paw lifts to go in that direction but he hesitates, no, he couldn't possibly have the heart to bother her either. She already has so much more to worry about then his late night walk where he'd likely be silent the entire time. He winces at the thought alone only to shake his head and feels stupid for standing there like some gobsmacked apprentice that didn't hear the instructions of his mentor well. He wishes that his den wasn't so lonely and he hates that he silently longs to rejoin the warriors den just for the comfort of other bodies being there. He has stayed in the medicine den for far too long that his pelt stunk of pungent herbs and poultices that they'd be quick to kick him out or give him odd looks.
Perhaps, a quick peek in the warriors den wouldn't hurt… His heavy paws carefully make their way in the direction of the den and he can't help but feel foreign to it, it had been a year since he had stayed here. Gentlestorm ducks his head to take a glimpse into the den as the moonlight reflects from his golden-brown eyes and notices the stirring of someone. At first glance, it's just another warrior but when he squints does he realize the familiar fawn-like pelt that brushes against the soft blue curls of her mate. Doepath. Once more, he hesitates not wishing to bother her but his voice betrays him as the silver tom calls out to her in a hushed voice “Doepath… come here please… I must speak with you…” If she rises and chooses to follow him, he removes his hulking form from the entrance of the warrior's den and motions for her to follow him.
Gentlestorm informs the warriors on guard that they would return, that the two of them were going out to search for herbs. A half lie and half truth… He doesn't care at the moment as he allows the half asleep molly to lean against his shoulder as the two of them slip out from the gorse tunnel…
The cold breeze nips at him as his paws sink further into the snow and his dark eyes glance to the jagged points of the mountain, a frown pulling at his lips as he shakes off the small layer of snow that had formed on his body. His legs wobble from the fatigue and exhaustion that begins to pull at his body trying to coax him into giving up to rest his body onto the snowy landscape. So, the mountain may drain whatever warmth continues to reside within his body and drain it of him slowly but he refuses as he pushes on with every step. Each one feels like he risks sinking further and further into the snow but his paws carry him to a place that he hasn't seen in an entire cycle. Has it truly been that long since he's seen her or felt the warmth of her fur pressed to his own? He isn't certain as the thought of her eyes crinkling whenever she smiled, oh, those very same eyes that reminded him of new-leaf. He misses her so, so dearly yet as the snow continues to fall and the wind shoves him in every direction, he can't help this feeling of impending doom or the way his limbs droop due to how tired he is.
Let me rest, I've carried on like you've wished of me. I've done everything you wanted. Have I not given enough of myself to earn a stay by your side yet? What more do you wish of me? How much longer must I tread despite the way my paws feel calloused and worn out? How much more do I have to lose when I barely have anything left? Why are you taking from me? Is this what I must endure?
He comes to a halt as he finally reaches the peak of the mountain and his eyebrows knit together as he gazes upon the grave that's been alone for an entire year now. A paw brushes the snow away from the stones that had been placed there carefully and it presses into the earth wishing that it would melt away to give way to the person he misses the most. His lips twitch as a saddened smile crosses his face and he allows his body to collapse onto the cold ground, his eyes feeling heavy as a shaky breath slips from his mouth. His ears pressed flat against his skull as the sound of larger pawsteps crushing the snow catches his attention, he lowers himself into the floor only to see the large silhouette of a beast. Its golden eyes staring right through him and a low growling emits from its throat, he believes that it'll lunge and tear his throat but instead the creature's head tilts back to let out a long howl.
The baying creature's song causes his entire body to rattle and he's paralyzed in place, unable to move a single muscle despite the way he wishes to flee. There's a sudden trembling but he isn't certain if it's his own tired body or if it's the very mountain itself, his eyes widened at the sight of the rocks placed near the grave of his loved one beginning to fall out of place. He wishes that he could move his paws enough so that he could fix it but the creature’s staring directly at him, it no longer sings its tune and takes a step toward him. The mountain seems to groan and the jagged points violently shake, he snaps his eyes towards them in fear of what may come. His mouth feels dry as he remembers that he isn't alone yet when he glances in the direction of the wolven-like creature, it's gone.
The grave of his loved one is ruined but he isn't given a chance to undo the damage as the jagged points of the mountain begin to close down onto him. His heart in his throat watching as the mountain shifts, the song of the beast ringing in his ears once more, and it closes with a sudden snap much like jaws. He's engulfed by the sudden darkness only to feel himself falling and falling further into the abyss. He feels as if he will never find the end of it before hitting the ground harshly, his pupils dilated with shock as he takes in the sight of his woodland home. His paws tearing into Mother Earth's soil and plucking out blades of grass with his claws as if to hold himself there not wishing to fall once more. A ragged breath slipping out from his throat as he attempts to catch his breath, he stops entirely seeing a blue blur bolt past him.
“Batwing?” He barely manages to whisper as the silver tom barely manages to push himself onto his paws. His first steps shaky only to slowly turn to an awkward gait then full-on sprinting in hopes of catching up with his best friend. No matter his efforts, Gentlestorm finds himself falling behind seeing the late lead warrior becoming a dot in the distance. “Please…” The older tom begs as if his pleas would be heard by the chimera, it's then that Gentlestorm realizes that they aren't alone. The sound of leaves being crushed underneath large paws and several pawsteps thundering on the ground causes his entire body and pelt to prickle. His pupils grow to the size of the moon when he hears the hounds trampling through the forest with excited pants as they begin to close the distance between them and Batwing.
He wants to scream so that he may warn the other but when his jaws part, the words refuse to fall out from his throat and his eyes begin to sting. His breathing grows ragged as if he's been running for an eternity in his futile attempt to save Batwing despite the way he knows how this dream ends each and every time. I can save him this time, is what he truly believes despite his delusions and his snowy paws strike the ground several times trying to keep up with the pack so he can reach the blue smoke first.
Salty tears pinprick the corners of his eyes only to stream down his face seeing the gorge at the end where the thick foliage of the forest begins to part. No, no, no. Not again. Gentlestorm manages to catch up and run ahead as his paws stretch out in an attempt to stop the blue savior from throwing himself over, their eyes locking with one another, and the rough pads of his paw touch the short hair belonging to his best friend… He'll succeed this time… It's what he wished to believe until he's pushed away by the very tom himself as if to say ‘not you but me’ only to plummet towards the strong currents below once more. Gentlestorm skids to a halt as he rests at the edge of the gorge and helplessly reaches out with a stark dipped paw, his body shakes violently with heavy sobs but not a sound leaves his maw.
And when he thought that things couldn't possibly get worse, the ground began to crumble underneath his large body. Gentlestorm curls into a tight ball not wishing to see the strong currents underneath accept him greedily into their arms despite having taken many. Everything begins to spin when he finally hits the water with a loud splash and the breath from his lungs are whisked away with ease, he unfurls slowly watching as the water pushes him up and down teasing him with the surface that rests above his head. The large healer doesn't bother fighting the currents instead choosing to allow himself to its mercy and let it decide his fate. His eyes grow heavy as they close for what feels like the final time…
Several coughs leave him as he gulps down in the air, his claws digging into the pebble-covered shore. His gaze dull as it lifts, turning to a familiar spot with jagged rocks, there's nothing at first until he blinks and sees the crumpled form of his hero. The silver tom pressed his face into the wet sand as his large paws covered his head, a hoarse plea coming from his throat “Stop… please… stop…” A pathetic whimper that leaves him as his body trembles once more with raw screams that tear itself from his throat. Where had his voice been when he needed to warn Batwing of the danger chasing him? Where had he been when the blue smoke needed him? Why did he continue to fail over and over again? What purpose do his paws serve if he isn't able to aid those in need and ensure they live?
His paws move away from his head at last and his vision is blurry as he notices the blood coating his chest, maw, and forelimbs. The medicine cat can feel his heart in his throat once more and his body trembling as he struggles to breathe. It feels as if a paw is pressed down on his throat making it difficult to catch his breath and he can feel his mouth is incredibly dry despite the metallic tang of blood on his tongue. The lifeless body of Darkthistle lays before him with terror contorted on his face and a bubbly foam around his mouth. The way his eyes are glazed over with death causes his chest to tighten and he begins to find it harder to breathe, he closes his eyes trying to tell himself it's just a nightmare. Just a bad dream.
✦ He reopens them to see the wolven-like beast standing before him once more as it stares down at him. Gentlestorm licks his lips trying to get rid of the dry feeling in his mouth and throat with his ears pressed flat against his skull. The creature is coated with blood on the same areas as his own body and his eyes widen at the sight. The wolf peers at the form of Darkthistle then back to the silver tom as it takes a step closer and crushes something underneath a large paw. It lifts its paw to see what had been stepped on only to unintentionally kick a vibrant, crimson berry in the direction of the old tomcat. For a heartbeat, he can see his own reflection on the deathberry and his heartbeat begins to slow down. The world seems to slow down as well but before the large feline could react or utter a single word, the wolf lunges at him with parted jaws…
His eyes open for the millionth time and they seem to sting, a sniffle leaves him only to realize the sudden weight held in his arms. Hot, sticky blood still holds onto his chest and arms but not on his mouth. He's confused for a few heartbeats only to realize who he's holding in his arms and the silvery tom can feel his heart shatter into several little pieces. Little Wolf. A saddened smile on her face as an inky paw reaches to touch his face and selfishly, he leans into it immediately as his breathing grows ragged once more. Fat tears roll off his cheeks only to drop gently onto her own face and she mumbles something that he can hardly hear. Once more, he begins to beg for her not to leave him again but he knows how it ends… She dies in his arms.
He swallows down a lump as he nuzzles into the fur of her neck and grits his teeth wanting to scream at Silverpelt that hangs over his head. It taunts him in a way… Gentlestorm's ready to do such but when his head lifts does he realize the trail of bodies that are behind his fallen mate and he holds his breath once more. Leopardtongue, Berryheart, Duskbird Howlingstar, Moonwhisper, Lightstrike, Magpiepaw, and so many more of his clanmates or friends lay on the ground lifeless in front of him. He could've saved them… If he had done more they'd all be alive, the words Howlingstar had once said to him falling on deaf ears, and his ears pressed further into his head as he shook it. The world begins to spin as his ears ring and the words of those lost to him echo throughout his mind.
I love you. I love you, Hailstorm.
So, I have chosen my next apprentice. He has a pair of talented paws.
Don't apologize, Hailstorm. There is nothing you could have done.
I love you…
And you… You have saved my life. Remember…
Thank you, Gentlestorm.
His breath hitches too scared to open his eyes despite the way he sobs and hiccups pathetically. Flashes of Doepath, Orangepaw, Flamestar, and several others being injured flicker within his mind. “Please… no more… I can't take anymore…” He croaks hating the way that his voice begins to crack from the overwhelming amount of emotions that wash over him. “I beg you… a moon or an entire cycle without loss… please… I've given my all to you… please.” The sepia tom begs under his breath still holding the form of his mate and finally, he dares to open his eyes to see what else would be revealed to him. It is then he realizes the absence in his arms and hears the sudden snap as a large branch falls in his direction, his eyes growing wide as he's unable to react and it impales him.
Gentlestorm wakes up in a cold sweat as a gasp slips from his mouth and he can feel his arms wrapped around something. He glances down realizing it's the mound of moss and nesting material he uses to mimic the form of someone laying next to him. The silver toned healer pushes it away swiftly as he sits up on his haunches to touch his chest to make sure that no splinters were there. A sigh of relief slips from his jaws when the realization of him being alive settles in and his ragged breathing finally eases a bit. He goes over a few of the breathing exercises that he normally went through with Roeflame whenever she seemed to be struggling and it gives him relief. The sound of cricket song outside of his den tells him that it's still dark out and it's enough to make a frown pull at his lips.
It seems that he will be going without any sleep tonight, although the loss itself doesn't seem to bother him. He'd rather not become a victim of his mind and guilt of surviving and outliving his friends. He slips out into camp taking comfort in the cool leaf-fall air as he stands there briefly glancing in the direction of the warriors who stood guard tonight. His dark gaze casts itself to the night sky littered with several stars that twinkle back at him and he closes his eyes for a heartbeat. It dawns on him that it's been an entire cycle since the passing of Little Wolf and her sacrifice. His mind briefly wanders to think about Cherryblossom within Skyclan, who is safe and alive due to his mate having given her life to save the young tortoiseshell. Did the mottled moggy ever regret such a thing? He doesn't even know nor does he wish to.
He should collect flowers for the makeshift grave he had made Little Wolf a while ago, a part of him wishing she hadn't passed within the mountains beyond Highstones. He feels she's farther than him in both life and death, it bothers him to a certain degree… Her words in the back of his mind about the two of them returning to the forest and here he is… alone. A dry laugh leaves Gentlestorm as he pushes away the plants that draped over his den and he feels as if he serves no purpose, at least, not at the given moment. Perhaps, he could go for a late night walk but he knows the potential threats that he could end up running into. It's far too risky when he's the only one making sure that the clan stays in good health. Maybe he could convince one of the warriors from the den to accompany him on this small mission of his but… who would be up at this hour?
A lot of them would be sound asleep curled with their mates or nose tucked in their tails. He doubts anyone would be too happy about him disturbing their sleep and his earthy toned eyes turn in the direction of the leader's den where Flamestar slumbers. A snowy paw lifts to go in that direction but he hesitates, no, he couldn't possibly have the heart to bother her either. She already has so much more to worry about then his late night walk where he'd likely be silent the entire time. He winces at the thought alone only to shake his head and feels stupid for standing there like some gobsmacked apprentice that didn't hear the instructions of his mentor well. He wishes that his den wasn't so lonely and he hates that he silently longs to rejoin the warriors den just for the comfort of other bodies being there. He has stayed in the medicine den for far too long that his pelt stunk of pungent herbs and poultices that they'd be quick to kick him out or give him odd looks.
Perhaps, a quick peek in the warriors den wouldn't hurt… His heavy paws carefully make their way in the direction of the den and he can't help but feel foreign to it, it had been a year since he had stayed here. Gentlestorm ducks his head to take a glimpse into the den as the moonlight reflects from his golden-brown eyes and notices the stirring of someone. At first glance, it's just another warrior but when he squints does he realize the familiar fawn-like pelt that brushes against the soft blue curls of her mate. Doepath. Once more, he hesitates not wishing to bother her but his voice betrays him as the silver tom calls out to her in a hushed voice “Doepath… come here please… I must speak with you…” If she rises and chooses to follow him, he removes his hulking form from the entrance of the warrior's den and motions for her to follow him.
Gentlestorm informs the warriors on guard that they would return, that the two of them were going out to search for herbs. A half lie and half truth… He doesn't care at the moment as he allows the half asleep molly to lean against his shoulder as the two of them slip out from the gorse tunnel…
- ooc — oneshot: 3.1k / italicized writing is nightmare/memories & non-italicized, he's awake
-
MEDICINE CAT KNOWLEDGE;
— ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ FLESH WOUNDS
— ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ INFECTIONS
— ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧ ACHES & PAINS
— ✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧ ILLNESS
— ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧ BREATHING ISSUES
— ✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ TRAVELING HERBS
— ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ BROKEN BONES
— ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ KITTING
— ✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧ POISONS -
✦ a longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white and copper eyes, several scars cover his body from previous fights that he somehow survived
✦ gentlestorm is rarely ever a warm individual and friendly to those who he meets, he proceeds with more caution and he's less likely to trust any strangers that come from outside of thunderclan. he tends to be jumpy if suddenly approached or flinches away from swift movement with his claws unsheathed when it occurs, he apologizes for it. his kindness reserved only for those closest to him otherwise anyone else can expect the cold shoulder from the old tom
✦ 60 moons old; ages the 27th every month
✦ widowed mate oflittle wolf; currently interested in no one
✦ semi-difficult to befriend/interact with ; quick to strike/attack first if he feels threatened ; peaceful powerplay allowed but proceed with caution
✦ "speech", thoughts, attacking
