sensitive topics front row seats to my funeral // returning

I'M NO BURDEN - NOT SO WORTHLESS
BENT SO MUCH THAT I JUST MIGHT BREAK

periwinklebreeze 15 moons demi-boy he/they windclan moor runner

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The pain is blinding - each pawstep feeling as though it takes an eternity, moving along at snail's crawl pace. Eye flickers - lid drooping one moment then pulling wide the next, as though darkness might take him under at any moment. Periwinklebreeze does not know where he's going - only that he must keep going, keep moving forwards. Highstones flickers in the far distance, clear even now behind red haze of pain.. The dogs have long gone, abandoning the cats to their fates. He does not know when, or why, or how they'd left him behind - not now, not anymore. He simply was - the steady thump of his heart and throbbing of pain his consolation prize. He'd lived - but at what cost?

A few tattered stems of lungwort and a plethora of wounds are all he has to show for his efforts as he wobbles along - uncertain. Had the others even survived? if they had, where were they now? There's no telling if they have already regrouped long before his return - if they have already cut their losses and trudged on, never looking back. He wouldn't even blame them. Saltwater tears well up at just the thought, but e refuses to let them fall. He has a promise to keep, no matter what.

And then, he is no longer alone - hazy figures blinking into view. Exhaustion, relief, shock - all of it renders his limbs like jelly as he wobbles, frail figure shaking as he finally cries, sobs choked and heaving. He doesn't even try to be strong, not anymore - it's all too much. He's not alone - he's not the only survivor. " H-hurts, " he mumbles out through quiet gasps, a whine building deep in his throat. Everything hurts.

actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes'

T H E Q U E S T I O N S T H A T K E E P M E A W A K E


ooc: this thread operates under the assumption that the dogs are all gone and some have already regrouped long before peri manages to drag himself to rejoin them; otherwise is a ffa and no need to wait to post

@Magpiepaw - med cat ping for injuries: his right eye and cheek has been deeply gouged, he has a deep bitemark upon his scruff, and then general assorted scrapes/bruises; bleeding has already been slowed / began to scab but he is generally a mess
 
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”Look, it’s Periwinklebreeze! He’s alive!”

Three paws thud against the earth as they rush to meet the dark-furred WindClan cat. His body is covered in dry blood, deep scratces and bite marks litter his body. Worst of all though was his face, it was like… a chunk of it had been ripped clean off. Figfeather supresses a sympathetic grimace when she notes his eye didn’t seem to be present, and it it was under all that blood…

He stumbles and cries out, Figfeather looks desperately around for Magpiepaw, the medicine cat apprentice likely not far and on his way. ”It’ll be okay, Periwinklebreeze. You’re safe now, we got you.” She promises, aiming to lick his shoulder to soothe and comfort him.​

  • » Figfeather
    » SkyClan Warrior
    » She/her . AMAB
    » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
    » ”Speech”thoughtsattack
  • » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
    » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
    » Fights defensively and aid her clan to victory.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 
The dogs had done a number on all of them, and Scorchstreak is no exception. New wounds litter her form—nothing major but they certainly still ache—and she knows that the other WindClanners sustained some injuries as well. But Periwinklebreeze disappeared after the dogs finally left, and the calico can’t hide her relief when one of the SkyClan warriors calls out his name. He’s alive.

"Periwinklebreeze," she murmurs, gaze softening as she looks upon the young warrior. He seems to have found himself in worse condition than Scorchstreak herself, and the calico can only slump with relief. She hadn’t expected the young tom to be alive, but looking upon his mangled face feels worse, somehow. Could she have prevented this, if she had only stuck by his side?

Figfeather offers comfort to the moor runner, promising that he’s safe—and wouldn’t it be nice if that were true. Still, Scorchstreak steps up to stand by his side as well, a gentle smile settling upon her muzzle. "I’m glad that you’re alive. You were brave, Periwinklebreeze." She has said the same thing to Luckypaw, to Scorchpaw, to Milkpaw, to Mouseflight. They all did their best to draw the dogs away from the other clans, and the lead warrior can’t help but to feel proud of them all.

Pride can wait until later, though. Periwinklebreeze is in pain. She lifts her head, glancing around for a somewhat familiar black and white pelt. "Where is Magpiepaw?"
[ BE A FIRE, BURN THIS DOWN ]
 
◇────────────【☆】【☆】────────────◇

XXXXXIciclefang feels quite privileged to be alive, especially when Periwinklebreeze drags himself into their makeshift camp. The hounds’ fearsome teeth had laid him bare to the bone in some places, and the only word the injured feline can utter to his patrolmates is, Hurts. Figfeather is the first to rise and meet him, to tell him it’ll be okay, and the tortoiseshell can only hope it’s true. Magpiepaw has pitifully few supplies and minimal training, and Periwinklebreeze’s wounds are some of the worst she’s ever seen. She rises to her paws at Scorchstreak’s question, looking through the crowd for the wobbly-paced young ShadowClan tom.

XXXXXYou were brave,” she murmurs to the WindClanner. “I saw what you did. You saved Orangeblossom.Just like Scorchpaw saved my life. She can only hope the worst of his injuries can be tended to so he can make the journey home.



─────────​
 

Every breath he took felt more and more unbelievable, like it shouldn't have been there- like it was a star-blessing. Maybe it was- Little Wolf's soul had slipped away, hopefully to the same Silverpelt they saw from their camps. It wasn't their will anyone joined them, was it? Yet- with each inhalation Fernpaw felt a singing superstition that StarClan stood at his side, at all of their sides, and was telling them... just a little longer.

Their call had reached Periwinklebreeze's ears, it seemed- Figfeather's rousing cry brought on a gale of relief that felt almost as if it could whip Fernpaw right off of the ground. Hurts, he said- and the ravines of split flesh on his face, matting thinned fur claret, betrayed that. An injury like that- he knew it well.

But he'd come out with an eye, albeit a useless one. Beneath the clotting and carve, Fernpaw did not see anything there. Still, he was glad to see Periwinklebreeze alive, and that showed on his expression- like soft flame, nurturing and warming after hardship. They all told the Windclanner he was brave, and Fernpaw nodded. "And- and you're going to be alright." It was all he could offer, all he could know. These injuries wouldn't define him- he would defy them, and what he had done would lay dormant in throats and minds of those who had seen it.
penned by pin
 

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He can't help but wonder if it's a miracle that he's still standing. The back of his neck stings with the reminder of how close he'd gotten to becoming a meal for the dogs, the reminder he'd not been fast enough to escape their strikes. Any slower and -- he doesn't want to think about it much further than that.

But, it's a bigger miracle when the previously unaccounted-for returns - a dark pointed face he'd grown close to, one he'd been unable to find amid chaos. It's Periwinklebreeze! Figfeather chirps, and his head lifts, verdant eyes widening at the sight before him. Scarlet-tinged, littered in fresh wounds. His stomach drops at the sight.

"Peri!" His own wounds are cast aside as he bounds forward to meet the wounded WindClanner. Periwinklebreeze's are far worse than his, after all. "You're... You're okay!" Thank the stars, they haven't lost another.

"You... We need to get you somewhere so you can rest." It's the best he can offer, as he moves to stand beside him to provide a shoulder to lean on, as his gaze darts away in search of Magpiepaw.
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    GREENKITGREENPAWGREENEYES, Warrior of SkyClan
    Daisyflight x Raven Ramble
    — AMAB; He/Him
    — A red tabby and white tom with bright green eyes.
    — Mentored by Sheepcurl; Currently mentoring Falconpaw
    — "Speech"; Attack

    : * — Among SkyClan's first born, Greeneyes is a bright tom with an affinity for the world around him. Despite always seeking to be kind to others, the warrior believes he's cursed - a belief brought on by rhetoric that green is a deadly color.
 
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Oh, he moved so much slower than everyone else. It was starting to become a pain. At least in ShadowClan the patients came to them, here he had to keep tabs on several different cats all wandering in different directions and his paws ached from the constant moving around. His name draws him in and he gives a startled wheeze of a gasp at the bloodied Moor Runner ambling back to rejoin them - he had thought he had died.

"Perwinklebreeze-! Come...sit...sit..." He gestures with a waving paw, wriggling in place until the others assisted the point tom in settling down where he could rest and he didn't waste any time before examining the bright red stains for the injuries. Huge cut to the neck, that eye looked horrible, the rest didn't seem too bad but...
"You might lose this eye...but I will try my best to avoid that..." Better an eye than a life but he was adamant he could spare it if he just willed it; he had the herbs for this, he may have never dealt with an eye injury before but it couldn't be worse than any other could it? Maybe he would use more goldenrod to be safe-a little extra wouldn't hurt and he had some to spare. Magpiepaw was not delicate, chewing up and plopping down a very liberal pale of orange and green bits-a plaster of plant right over that eye once he had carefully groomed the area. He wondered if the taste of blood would eventually stop registering to him with how many injuries he has licked clean this venture.
"You're going to be okay." Cobweb spread over the others face, nearly encompassing the entire half of it and he worked on cleaning and applying a less exuberant amount of goldenrod to the points neck. "You WindClan cats are fast.."

  • OOC can go here.

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    Magpiepaw
    —⊰⋅ MCA of ShadowClan
    —⊰⋅ He/They
    "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    —⊰⋅ Black tom w/a white throat and blue-violet eyes.