private AT FIRST I WAS AFRAID, || Gravepaw || I WAS PETRIFIED

[Chickbloom]

Chickbloom never thought he'd be the type to be a difficult patient, but the baby bird's first long-term stay in the medicine day was met with far more misery than he'd expected. Fawnpaw was probably getting sick of the Scottish Fold's constant questions - ranging from annoying to incessant. 'Is there anything I can help with?' 'Can I get back to hunting soon?' 'I just coughed, is that bad?' 'Am I getting better or worse?'

Two sides played tug-of-war within the Scottish Fold: the first wanting to rip off the cobwebs covering him like chains and get some work done, and the other wanting to pile them on like a blanket before his injury gets any worse. A living contradiction; worrying after his own mortality while fed-up with not being on the front lines, it was a wonder the whelp was able to hold himself together before the cobwebs. What Chickbloom wanted - needed - was a distraction, a way to help without jeopardizing his health. It was a small miracle when one came walking through the entrance.

"Gravepaw?" the Scottish Fold asked, singular sun adjusting to the light as he felt webbing stretch on the opposite side. Opening both eyes was a hard habit to break, but the boy supposed he'd have to get used to it. "I'm - it's nice to s-see you. C-Come in - come in, it's alright-"

Was it? Gravepaw might be his apprentice, but Chickbloom hadn't really talked to him outside of training. What should he say? Should he act relaxed or stern? As with most things, the Scottish Fold defaulted to an imitation of his own mentor. "I hope you've - er - b-been keeping up with your exercises." That's what Silversmoke would say, something cool and serious. So why didn't it feel right? "-A-And, uh - h-how are you? With the - uh - s-storm and everything - It must've been s-scary." Though it sounded patronizing, the former kittypet didn't mean it that way. "I - y'know - I was s-still eating kibble and - and playing with my h-housefolk at your age. I couldn't - I never could've made it out-out here so young. But you-"

Got stuck with a tomcat that was languishing in torpor instead of teaching? A slight frown crossed fractured features before the boy huffed in amusement. "B-Born wild, I suppose…" A solitary eye drifted off for a moment before snapping back to attention, unwilling to wait anymore to address the elephant in the room.

"Um - I-I'm sorry about - y'know -" did he even need to say it? "I should've - I'm s-sorry. I'll t-talk to the others - s-see if a-any of them can fill in and t-train you while I'm in here. Fawnpaw says I'm d-doing well, so…" Chickbloom drifted off again, an unsaid question on his lips. 'If you'd like a new mentor, I can ask Twitchstar.' The Scottish Fold shooed the thought away with a flick of the tail. His friend entrusted Gravepaw to him, said he was ready, and the whelp didn't intend to disappoint (even if he'd done a poor job so far.).

// @GRAVEPAW​

 

[GRAVEPAW]

THERE'S A FAWN IN THE FENCE THAT ——————​

He isn't a stranger to hanging around the medicine cats... medicine cat? medicine cat apprentice? He doesn't know what to describe Fawnpaw as. Anyways, he's not a stranger to being around her or any of her patients. Even when not actually sick he spends a lot of time nearby, before Chickbloom had been injured Gravepaw had been here recently. Dragged essentially by his mother after he returned from his first time training to make sure he didn't have any cracked pawpads or broken bones. Today though, he was here to make sure his mentor hadn't died overnight. He visits every day, sometimes the scottish fold is just asleep when he's by, sometimes the den is just too busy with the chaos of camp for him to properly speak with his mentor; but he does try to be around for as long as he can.

Being actually acknowledged though... he debates turning around or freezing on the spot, or maybe having a heart attack from nerves, all of these sound like good options right now. "Hi" he speaks clearly, even when nervous he never mumbles, perfect annunciation was something he prided himself on at all times, at least when near adults. "Are you sure? I don't... If you need to rest I don't want to interrupt" that's what he needs to get better right? Lots and lots of rest? If he kept the buttery tom awake with chatter then would he get worse? Gravepaw doesn't want to think about such a fate. Paws shuffle in, keeping himself as small as possible as he strolled towards his mentor with an awkward gait. Acting more like he's about to be scolded than take the time to converse with Chickbloom. In a way he was, that made him feel a little better about being so awkward.

"I'm trying to" it's a meek offer, he still lacked the confidence to be doing it well, though he figured as long as he's trying that's what matters. They hadn't gotten very far into their training before he found himself at deaths mercy. The other warriors do their best, the faces change every day though and he finds that he can't keep up with all the new ways to be taught the same things, drowning in over complicating things that should really be quite simple. "Um.. I'm okay I guess.. my nest is gone" his ears flicker back to the grooves of his skull as his face flushes with shame. How pathetic, his mentor fighting to stay strong while his biggest issue is the lack of a nice bed that he once had the privilege of having. "It was scary" he confessed, a small smile finding it's way to his maw. At least when with the buttery tom he didn't have to pretend to be brave, he seemed to be scared a lot too so when he wasn't feeding the apprentices doomed mentality into a spiraling complicated mess with his own anxieties it was comforting to speak with him.

"Does kibble taste as bad as the warriors say?" He had heard whispers about Chickbloom once being a kittypet, though he was really too young to recall any time that he had worn a collar. The chimera didn't mind, he thought that it was kinda cool to be a kittypet once- or um a daylight warrior, it seemed pretty fun if not... scary as well since they must worry about being squished by monsters all the time. "Are you feeling better? You haven't seen StarClan have you?" His wide blue eyes bloom with anxiety once more. "If a StarClan cat comes get you then you have to tell them no" because if Chickbloom left with them then he would be stuck with these ever changing mentors.

There was no strong personal connection yet but he liked his mentor, he didn't want to change him for anyone else. His gaze fixated on a sole eye, he wonders if it hurts or if he can't feel it at all. The blood was a lot, maybe he doesn't have as much blood anymore too... is there a way he can find him more? "So you'll be able to train me again soon?" There's hope in his eyes, a cusp of a plea on his tongue. "Could we climb again when you're better... I think I'm getting better at it."
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——————————————————————————————— you can't get free ​

 

[Chickbloom]

"I've been r-resting too much" Chickbloom answered as Gravepaw stepped inside, the sight of his apprentice further fueling the boy's desire to work. The scrap of black and white before him only reminded the whelp of how much he'd left undone, but how could he help his charge with only one eye? Hunting, climbing…fighting - the warrior would have to adjust it all. They were both students now.

"Trying is good." Chickbloom nodded. "T-trying is the - the most important thing. My mentor - i-it took me moons t-to do anything. And S-Silversmoke - h-he never let me give up, e-even when I wanted to." The Scottish Fold felt fraudulent, giving advice like he wasn't reaping the harvest of sewn sorrow. Butter-splashed paws were standing on the shoulders of giants, all to raise his own a few tail-lengths higher.​

In many ways, Gravepaw was already above his mentor. Folded ears flicked up for a moment, impressed with how someone so young spoke of the storm like just another day. There was fear in the other's voice - he admitted as much - but the baby bird couldn't imagine just continuing on like that at his apprentice's age. Hell, even now the coward was concerned with the day he'd be discharged, excitement warring with worry as he wondered over his wound.

"You're v-very brave" Chickbloom purred after a moment. "And - i-if you bring me - y'know, materials - I c-could weave you a n-new nest. I'm sure F-Fawnpaw would be f-fine with that. I c-could teach you to w-weave, too! I-If you want…I'm more experienced t-teaching that than climbing or - or hunting, hah…" Perpetually stiff shoulders gradually slumped over the conversation, reminders of better days as good as any herb the medicine cat could provide.

Speaking of better days, the boy let out a mrrrow of amusement at the question, licking his maw before answering. "I - S-Sometimes I think I'm the o-only cat in the forest that likes kibble, d-daylight warriors included. It's c-crunchy, and kinda bitter, but my housefolk had this - this p-paste they'd mix in to it, and it, oh-" Chickbloom stopped once he realized his mouth was watering, wiping a small line of spittle away and clearing his throat. "I would - I would take mouse or - or squirrel over it any day, but…s-sometimes I still get a craving for it." a butter-stained paw instinctively swiped over the space his collar used to be, feeling freed fur instead of choking leather.

Unfortunately, memories only went so far, and Gravepaw's next question brought him back to the present. "No… er - i m-mean yes, I'm feeling better, but n-no, I haven't seen s-starclan." Had he? He'd lost consciousness so many times, any one of his dreams could've been a glimpse of the afterlife. Perhaps he should consult fawnpaw…

Before he had a chance to explore the thread further, Chickbloom was rocked by back-to-back requests. "Oh…" for a moment, he didn't know what to say. A soft smile slowly found its way across scarred features, feelings doing the talking as he felt one eye begin to tear up. "That's…That's r-really nice, G-Gravepaw. I'm not…I d-don't like telling cats no, b-but I'll make an exception. I'm n-not going anywhere. P-Promise." To know he was wanted as a teacher, that the other didn't feel burdened…it was like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. For a moment, it felt like he could see with both eyes again.

"We'll pick up right where we - we l-left off. C-Climbing, t-then hunting, t-then - um - fighting…" the two syllables summoned heavy air into the den, and Chickbloom squirmed for a moment before speaking. "G-Gravepaw…do you remember what I - I s-said to you when Duskpool b-brought me to camp? It's not - it's not always like this." The boy motioned to where his eye used to be. "I w-won't lie. Being a w-warrior is - is dangerous, and it's o-okay to be scared…b-but I was stupid. T-This was my fault, and it…If I was smarter, none of it would've happened. If you just - y'know - k-keep your head on straight, y-you'll be fine, I p-promise. And I'll a-always be there for you."

"Do you understand?"
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[GRAVEPAW]

THERE'S A FAWN IN THE FENCE THAT ——————​

"Why would you want to give up?" He frowns at the thought, Chickbloom always seemed capable to him. It was a little disappointing to find out that he wasn't always like that. Nothing substantial, just that kind of disappointment a child holds when they find out that their parent does in fact have flaws. "Silversmoke seems scary" then again he finds all the gruffer warriors to be scary, he nearly faints at the mere idea of Slatesnarl after all. He shuffles on his paws and finds interest in a loose stone on the ground, rolling it underpaw just to divert his attention between two things. Finding it difficult to be wholly focused on something he felt awkward talking about, through no fault of his mentor of course, he could tell the tom was trying. It was just... difficult to talk to him without thinking about the blood spurting from his eyes, or about the panicked talk of the warriors who he thought always knew what to do.

"I don't think so" he rebuttles against the compliment, in truth Gravepaw thought the other apprentices were much braver about the storm than he was. He started to shake whenever it rained at all now, just cursed to not let himself feel proper. It was just another day, if every day is another day then it can't be a bad day, that's how he tries to think about things anyways. Though, there is a spark in his eyes at the mention of being taught how to weave. "That would be... really nice, thank you Chickbloom. I'd love that" overly formal and polite to a fault he can't shake it even when it's something he wants to do. "I don't know how many materials are around after the storm but that would be nice." He could find something, even if it's just something small anything to start learning would be nice.

He wonders if he had to weave his own nests in Twolegplace. He doesn't talk with many of the daylighters so he had to admit that he was a little lost on whatever customs they participate in. Though maybe this was just a Chickbloom thing, like the kibble. His still fluffy features scrunch in distaste at the mention of it being bitter but much too polite to make an actual comment of disgust over the matter. He adverts his gaze as his mentor wipes the spittle away, not wanting to make a comment on it. "Do you miss it? I think I would miss something if I had it for a while and then not anymore." Maybe that's too forward? Maybe he was expecting more trust than Chickbloom was willing to give. He decides to not press on it anymore if his buttery mentor is anything less than enthused to tell him about his past and memories around said past. He gathered by the way the toms paw reached for his neck that these things might be too unpleasant to talk about.

He hadn't seen StarClan, that was good to know. "That's good" he hums in approval but fidgets with the rock underpaw more as he makes his request for his mentor to tell a StarClan cat no if they approach him. Was that blasphemous? Did he just insult his ancestors? Oh he hopes not. "O-okay... I don't want anyone else to mentor me" his confession is small, he keeps his eyes on his own paws. Was that rude? He's sure everyone else is fine but he had barely got to experience training with the egg coated tom, it just seemed unfair to both of them but he had to admit that he wasn't sure if Chickbloom even wanted him as an apprentice. "I'll get better at climbing and hunting, um... and fighting too. I don't think I'll be as good as Lambkit or Ramkit but I'll try." That's all he can do, right?

The idea of fighting was a crushing weight on his chest, he hated the idea of fighting. It seemed so scary and the other apprentices seemed so much better at it than he was, what if he was just pushed around by them too if he has to train with the others? "Are you sure?" He doesn't mean to doubt him but... It just seemed that the life of warrior was just full of the fear of death, you fight and then one day you lose the fight. It wasn't a life he wanted to live at all. "Why did you do it?" If he admits that this was a stupid thing to do then he doesn't get why it had to occur in the first place. He's confident he can keep a straight head on, he always does even when in the middle of a dramatic fit.

There's a pause before he nods dutifully. "I understand" it's a warm bloom in his chest, the idea of having someone always being there for him. It wasn't crushing like the idea of his mother always being there, this was a little sturdier which was ironic given how unsturdy Chickbloom could be at times. It doesn't bother Gravepaw, because he wanted to hold onto that idea that he was always going to be here for him.
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——————————————————————————————— you can't get free ​

 

[Chickbloom]

Chickbloom had to laugh at Gravepaw's question, though it quickly turned into a grimace as quickly-contracting muscles stretched still-sensitive scar tissue. Still, he smiled with good humor through the pain. Never in a million moons would the milksop guess he'd be asked something so obvious - or at least what he thought was obvious. It was satisfying in a way, younger cats seeing the former kittypet yet knowing him as nothing but a full-time Skyclanner. It was a reputation he wanted to live up to - even if it was just basic competence.

"Because it - it was easy." Chickbloom answered between huffs of pained humor. "It was - w-was easier to sit alone in my - y'know - housefolk's den all day instead of c-challenging myself. I thought n-no one could stand me, back then - it was hard c-coming to the border for the first time, and harder still n-not running away, b-but Silversmoke always kept me s-straight. He's s-scary sometimes, but he's really nice when you - you get to know him."

The baby bird's smile turns to a slight frown when Gravepaw rejects his praise, but Chickbloom says nothing. After all, they would turn from cats into pots and kettles if the coward criticized his apprentice for refusing a compliment. The pair's nature was something they'd have to live with - no cure, only accommodation and adaptation. But hey, Twitchstar was living proof they could still do great things. ​

Something the Scottish Fold was still trying to learn, though, was that sometimes great things weren't as important as basking in the little moments. "I should be t-thanking you. I've been - y'know - so c-cooped up in here - moving my paws would be nice." He briefly wondered how his younger self would react to the situation; collarless and half blind, having a conversation with a wild cat about things he'd enjoyed since kithood. "S-Sure I do. I miss it - a-and my housefolk sometimes - b-but that's what memories are for, I guess…"

No matter Eggshell's response, he would never believe Gravepaw's words about only wanting the whelp as a mentor. In truth, Chickbloom isn't sure what to say either. The younger cat had made the sentiment clear earlier, but hearing it put so bluntly…the boy had to look away. "I - uh - T-Twitchstar thinks the same, so….I'm - I'm glad you're m-my apprentice." After so much fear and terror, it was a relief to feel something as mundane as embarrassment again. Still, it doesn't stop the Scottish Fold from trying to skirt off the subject. "A-And try not to worry about - y'know - the f-fighting. It'll just be some - some b-basic defense stuff at first. N-Not too scary, but important. If I hadn't been trained, S-Sorrelsong would've…"

Chickbloom peters off as a smoldering sun slides away yet again, leaving the obvious unsaid. Gravepaw breaks the silence with a question the coward had been grappling with since he'd come to the medicine den, and he starts his answer with a sigh. "I was…angry." A seldom-seen emotion from the coward. "We've - S-Skyclan has been through s-so much. O-Oakrumble died, then Sorrelsong hurt Duskpool, then F-Fireflyglow disappeared, it - I was - I didn't want to lose anyone else. Silversmoke, Butterflytuft, you-" His mentor would brush off such a personal inquiry, but the baby bird felt himself drifting towards honesty, even if it was brutal. "A-And I guess p-part of me was ashamed - y'know - f-for not having any scars of m-my own. S-So when I saw her, it all j-just-"A huff of dry humor leaves him as folded ears shake. "S-Stupid…"

It was one thing to understand his problems, but it was another to actually solve them. Chickbloom leans forward with a soft smile, butting heads with Gravepaw. "I'm not - I'm n-not gonna do that again. Still l-learning, I guess."
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