camp should I choose a noble occupation? // 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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Goodbyes are said at last, the remaining group splitting up as they part. A heaviness settles over the boy, eyes closing for a moment as he tries to catch his breath, to wrangle the writhing current of his emotions as figures fade into the distance. Unlike stormpaw and the other thunderclanner's, there is no patrol waiting to meet the two windclanners - not until they are already within the territory. Not until they are already home.

Smoke-tinged tom wonders absently for a moment as gorse walls come into view if they're even expecting them to come home. Surely, scorchstreak and the others must have explained their absence. Surely, @GRAVELSNAP and azaleafrost and nightinggalecry will be waiting for him,just on the other side of the barrier. Surely - surely, he will be welcome back... right? For a moment, he almost regrets it, regrets coming home. Fears that what awaits will only be more of the same - bitter resentment, scorn, distrust - that he is a useless traitor in their eyes, even now, no matter how may times he's proven himself. Thinks that maybe sharppaw had been right - they should've stayed, made their own clan in the mountains, away from all this. When had he grown more comfortable with a skyclanner pressed against his side than he had in his own skin? He doesn't know, doesn't understand, but it hurts.

In the end, heart and mind are already made up long before he takes those final steps, pressing his way into camp with an air of aloof resignment. Blue eyes - eye? - searches for black-and-white fur on autopilot, hopeful. He looks a mess, scratches and scuffs littering his pelt, deep wounds upon his face and neck still healing. Blood still crusts wounds, the pink-tinged skin still healing beneath, but agpiepaw had given him the all clear to remove the cobwebs and thick smattering of herb-mushs from his face. Milky and unseeing now, his right side of his face still feels flushed and hot - but he cannot complain too much, instead letting the pain ground him. He's escaped infection, amputation. He will not end up like nettlepaw - socket bare. His eye may be useless, but it's still there.

And then at last, he sees the faces he'd so desperately been searching for - relief and joy flooding him like a dam burst in his chest. A beaming smile upon his lips, head held high in spite of everything, daisy-strewn tail flicking nervously. He's back - he'd kept his promise and returned.

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// @SEDGEPOUNCE
 
Since the wayward WindClanners first showed up back in camp, the ink-blotched tom has been restless. Many of their clanmates have returned, and yet the most important of them is still out there somewhere, staying behind because of an injury. Gravelsnap had expected for Periwinklebreeze and Sedgepounce to come home the day after Mouseflight and the rest, but it has been days with still no sign of them. It is safe to say that Gravelsnap hasn't focused on a single task since the first group made their way into camp.

It's no surprise that he is one of the first to spot the two figures as they make their way through the gorse tunnel and into the camp. He's on his paws in an instant, stumbling in his haste to reach them. "Peri!" All their harshness, any comment of what took so long dies on their tongue when they get a god look at him; the black-pointed figure looks worse for wear, but he is undoubtedly alive. Gravelsnap can't stop the way that their paws drive them forth, sending them nearly crashing into Periwinklebreeze's side. Their head ducks down to press their forehead against the other's shoulder, eyes slipping shut. The display of affection would normally cause them to gag, but the relief coursing through them won't allow them to feel anything but grateful. "Thank the stars, you're alive…"
[ you put the fun into dysfunction ]
 
The moment she sees him come through the camp entrance, she is relieved beyond compare. Her mind had swirled with the worst when she saw he had not returned. Had the rats he left with killed him?? Did the other rats from the other clans kill him? Or had something else done it? When she heard he was injured, she was ready to go to the mountains herself to make sure Periwinklebreeze returned home.

But she does not have to, for he is here now. The first thing she notices is his eye.

The first thing she thinks is who did it.

She rushes over to him, ignoring Gravelsnap completely. "Peri!!" She cries out in probably the loudest anyone has ever heard her. She presses into his other shoulder and basks in the knowledge that he is okay. He's home now. Safe. Safe because she will keep him safe from any of the rats that will probably still torment him.

"I'm glad you're safe..." She says. "What happened to your eye..?" She asks.

Hasn't he been through enough already? Why must he suffer so? Why must Starclan take whatever their frustrations are out on him, and not someone else who deserves it?​
 
Bluepaw is quiet, watching Gravelsnap heave themselves over to Periwinklebreeze with cool half-lidded eyes. She does not understand the emotional display, and has never seen him act this way with anyone before—but she does know they are friends, close friends. Would he act this way if she had gone on the journey? The gray she-cat's ears twitch, her mouth slipping into a frown. Perhaps this is a kind of closeness she has never experienced. It troubles her to think about.

Azaleafrost comes pelting after Periwinklebreeze next. It's the eye they all notice, and Bluepaw does, too, of course. She walks slowly, more stiffly, to greet the returning warriors. She will nod a greeting to Sedgepounce first, then murmur, "Welcome home. I heard you stayed behind with ThunderClan." Her tone is flat, free from judgment, but there's a shift in her green eyes—suspicion. "What injured you so?"



, "
 
The moor is just how he remembers it. If colder; a little grayer. A sea of heather stretches out and gives way to the rough lining of the gorse wall, and Sedge and Peri duck into a camp that is—hopefully—already cured. "Almost there," he murmurs, nervous anticipation pressing from his maw. His mind conjures the worst. An abandoned camp littered with sickened corpses. A hollowed out shell with nothing left behind. But there's voices from behind the thicket, the quiet sounds of the living worming past the thorns. They make it to the other side and it's—home.

Periwinklebreeze is assailed immediately. Sedge steps back on impulse, feeling wobbly and frayed, but there's a smile on his face where there wasn't before. Time doesn't stop now that they've breached the threshold, and as some cry out to Peri, all around them are cats going about their day to day humdrum. Sedge is too overwhelmed to notice the battered look of them, or the strange smell still smoldering in the dirt. He can only stand there numbly and think: We did it!

Cold and queenly Bluepaw steps forward. Stupidly, she reminds him of Cherrypaw. "There were dogs," he says. The weight of his words are cut by the breathless wistfulness in his voice. There's a pressure behind his eyes; he's blinking more as he looks past her shoulder, out into the meandering crowd, searching for familiar faces.

"They didn't tell you?" Sedge asks. They, of course, being the first half of their patrol. He's distracted even as he asks it, too overwhelmed with just...everything. But he takes a steeling breath and elaborates: "We got attack by a whole pack of them. A few of us got injured, but—y'know. Peri fought his off."​
 
I'M NO BURDEN - NOT SO WORTHLESS
BENT SO MUCH THAT I JUST MIGHT BREAK

periwinklebreeze 16 moons demi-boy he/they windclan moor runner

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Relief - it floods him, leaving limbs suddenly feeling weak. He does not expect gravelsnap to be so relieved - does not expect face to bury itself in thier fur - but it is a welcome surprise. It is confirmation that the words they'd shared had not been a dream - hadn't been the delusions of a sick cat expecting their friend to never return. This- this was real.

He is home.

he sinks into the gesture for a moment, forehead pressing against white and black fur, before attention is turned to the two blue furred she-cats before him. "Azalea-" he's cut off by her mimicking the same gesture, and for a moment he wonders how he could ever have considered staying behind. Vision swims dizzily for a moment, his smile a shaky and timid thing. "S-sed-gepounce is right - we c-came across d-dogs near highstones... I only j-j-just barely made it out alive... i'm l-lucky to h-have any eye l-left at all. Must have b-been starclans will," he says quietly, giving bluepaw an awkward nod. He's... trying to be nicer now after all.

Eyes flit about, trying and failing to spot the only other cat he has been waiting for. "Where's - wh-where's nighty? Is she out on p-patrol?" he asks, whiskers twitching and tail flicking nervously.

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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


// nightingalecry is in the med den still recovering from yellowcough, would appreciate if someone could tell him so he can panic <3
 
Downypaw is struggling not to trip over the dangling ends of the sedgegrass in their mouth when there's a rustling at the gorse tunnel. At first they pay it no mind; warriors and their apprentices ducked through the thing all day, and they'd quickly learned that their neck aches after a day of turning eager eyes towards it. They'd have their fill of walking through it soon, but not a heartbeat before they finished reinforcing the nursery den.

A cry makes them almost drop their bundle. Startled blue eyes satisfy themselves upon the entrance once more, as a black-spotted shape tears through the camp and straight into a cat. Soot-dipped paws slow, mind ticking to life behind blue-stained windows. Another cry: "Peri!" again. Only a few sunrises out of the nursery, they haven't quite familiarized themself with every one of their clanmates. But, they definitely don't know this Peri, nor the willowy patched tom next to him.

Gently, they set their sedgegrass aside and creep closer. "There were dogs," the brown-and-white one says, but his amber eyes gleam with something that isn't quite the expected memory of terror. The first warrior to greet Peri finally steps back, and even from their distance Downypaw stifles a gasp at the cat's face.

They're all blood-flecked and bruises, roses and jagged thorny scabs poking out from beneath an unruly mass of fur. Someone had tried to smother him in cobwebs—a few, iridescent strands wave gently in the air like whiskers—but it hadn't been enough.

His eye…they're suddenly overcome with the urge to press a paw against their own right eye, as though it might suddenly fall out upon a glance into the monster's shattered mirror. The tom standing just a few fox-lengths away from them could be their darker twin, a sunlit puddle they'd curiously gazed into and rippled with a paw. His face is all black, unlike what they know theirs to be, but the rest of him, from night-dipped toe to gentle eye, is the same.

A kit-irrational thought: is this their future, half-blind and dressed in red? Phlox gaze falls to their own ink-stained paws, flicks back towards his. Glance back at their snow-white chest, then again to his. Who are you? The cry dies in their throat. They fear if they speak to him, the trance would break and the mirage would dissolve back into the nothing he'd come from. What happened to you?

Dogs, rationally, but the question haunts them still as they turn towards their sedgegrass, back into the safety of mundanity and away from the specter. He'd left and come back. That much they understood. Would they come back like that too, if they ever dared to leave?​
 
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While the relief of finally being home still hangs heavily over all of their heads, Luckypaw's sure, he can't help the bubbling worry that simmers up in his chest over Periwinklebreeze and Sedgepounce, over the others that had stayed behind, over Stormpaw - surely, they would return any day now. They weren't that far behind, sure, but they were behind all the same, and injured, too, so it's only natural that it's taking time, but every moment that the pair aren't home yet makes him antsier and antsier. They couldn't have afforded slowing the whole group down - he knows this now, more than ever, but they had all known it even on the edge of the moors. Still, the thought of splitting up had never quite sat right with him, and now all his fears and more seem to come alive; had they run into even more trouble, then? All the dangers they'd weathered had been hard enough hearty and hale and with a full group - how much worse must it be with only a few injured cats?

If you were to ask him about it, he wouldn't quite call it pacing, not in those terms; after all, it's not as though he's devoid of any tasks. Resting off the journey for a few days in camp didn't mean he had to be at rest every moment, and besides, there's always plenty of chores to be done. No, Luckypaw isn't pacing - he's just being thorough, just double-checking and triple-checking all his work. In a manner reminiscent of pacing, roundabouts, but not pacing nonetheless. Still, when he hears the tell-tale call of voices from the gorse tunnel, cats turning and flooding towards the entrance, he can't quite remember what task he'd been doing in the moment at the flood of relief, hearing his final two clanmates return. "Periwinklebreeze! Sedgepounce!" They're home! They're alright! At least as alright as they'd parted ways, he thinks, the sight of Perinklebreeze's torn figure eliciting fresh waves of discomfort and sympathy.

Friends and clanmates gather, greeting the pair, and Luckypaw is content to hang back in this moment, simply basking in the feeling of such a heavy weight lifting off of his heart. There's some talk of the dogs, of course, considering that was what ultimately resulted in the delay, and he can't help but shrink back slightly at the recounting, the memory still a little too fresh for comfort. It's not until Periwinklebreeze and Sedgepounce have both given their piece until he realizes just how tired they look - and how tired they must be, truly, after having spent even longer away than he and the rest of the already-returned WindClanners had. Periwinklebreeze, especially, considering he was so littered with wounds. There'd be time to catch up with them later, he thinks, surely with news passing both ways, but for now, he's certain they must be ready to finally relax. "You guys must be tired - like, really tired. And hungry - I could grab you something to eat? Get a nest ready, or...?" he offers, letting the genuine warmth in his tone overshadow anything else.

Whether they want a meal or not (maybe they've already eaten - maybe they've done a lot, in these few days), there's no way they won't want some nice, fresh moss, and well...it's not like they've got their old nests to return to. It's still weird, knowing that the nest he'd been sleeping in the past few nights isn't the one he'd left, but that's something for another time. Even if Periwinklebreeze is just headed straight to Wolfsong, Luckypaw can still grab some extra moss, easy enough. As he turns, though, there's a hesitance in his movements, leaving him stuck in place, still just looking at Sedgepounce and Periwinklebreeze. Maybe now isn't the time, and maybe it's awfully hypocritical of him to grill them before letting them rest when he'd just planned to do the opposite, but - well, he has to know if the delay had been worth it. They don't seem particularly morose, but who knows? "Um, you all made it back? Is - did Stormpaw make it back, too?" Whether or not his clanmates care about a ThunderClan apprentice doesn't matter - he cares, at least enough to hope that she'd be making an entrance back in ThunderClan too.

"Oh, I should - I'll go ahead and grab some moss, now, and um, you guys can get up to speed with what's happened while we were all gone. Or, you can just rest, too - I thought my paws were gonna fall off when I first sat back down." This time, he feels only slightly hindered turning away, only a slight worry that if he takes his eyes off of them they might just disappear again. That - that might take some getting used to, or some getting rid of, he thinks, especially considering his pelt still prickles when Scorchpaw and Scorchstreak aren't in eyesight. Another question from Periwinklebreeze stops him in his tracks once again, though. That must be - oh, that must be Nightingalecry, his sister. Is she...? Not one of the lost, he knows immediately, but it takes him a moment to remember anything else. "She's - uh, I think she's still recovering. Y'know, in Wolfsong's den, probably. But - but we made it back in time, so it'll be okay. She'll be okay," he reassures, smile growing a little tighter at the thought that there had been a very real chance that they might not have made it back in time. They hadn't made it back in time for everybody, but...at least they'd managed to save somebody.​
  • OOC: --​
  • VGVREdC.png
  • 69355684_l8Wl3AJb3zHJeza.png
    - Luckykit Luckypaw
    - He/him (AFAB)
    - 7 moons (Ages on the 1st)
    - Kit Apprentice of WindClan
    - Small blue tortoiseshell with white spotting & green eyes
    - Art by myself & meghan respectively! <33
    - Minor powerplay allowed!
    - Penned by Hijinks​