counting stars — cherrykit

[DUSKPOOL]

anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Duskpool had awoken with a jerk, limbs quivering as he righted himself, blinking until he gathered his bearings, realizing he was still in the med den. His brow twitched in annoyance, letting out a huff of hot air, gaze lingering on the mess of fresh wounds littering his bulky build. He wasn't particularly fond of landing himself back in the med den, already straining with the effort from bolting out of camp.

Something rustled, a singular hue squinting as his head swerved to stare. Great. He thought deadpan, staring unimpressed at the kit. "Shouldn't you be with your mother?" He inquired, brow raised. "Kids like you shouldn't be walkin' in here alone."

@Cherrykit
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[Cherryblossom]

Cherrykit stares back at the lurid yellow eye, peeking out from beneath the swath of cobwebs that covered the other. "Plaguekit did it," she matter-of-factly meows. If the scraggly boy could do it and manage to sneak a pawful of thorns into Fireflypaw's nest, why couldn't she? Unfortunately, one of the patients was awake. "I wanted to look," she insists, though look at what she doesn't specify. Maybe just to gawk at the flies careening round the slumbering cats and their twitching ears, or to breathe in the scent of sharp red once more. She still doesn't quite know what to think about blood, though surely it's a bad thing. "Mama's asleep," she adds, as though it'll help her case.
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[DUSKPOOL]

anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶​

Duskpool rose a brow, expression morphing into that of annoyance at Plaguekit's name. Of course, he doubted Shadowfire had been any better when they were kits, but it wasn’t if they had the luxury to enjoy their kittenhood.

“Right.” He shook his helm, ignoring the sharp twinge of pain from the motion. Kids these days. “And didn’t Plague get in trouble?” His brow rose, deadpan. “What are you—” No. He didn’t want to know and from the looks of it, Cherry wasn’t sure either.

Sighing, Dusk pressed a paw to his face, careful of the cobweb. “Don’t you think you’ll worry your mother when she realizes you're gone?” He inquired, shifting around in his nest for a comfortable position, giving up seconds in when his shoulder twinged in pain. “Best to hurry along kid. Don’t want Dawnglare catching you.” And I’m not particularly fond of Orangeblossom coming for me when she realizes where you are. He didn’t bother commenting on his ghoulish appearance, covered in herb mixtures and cobwebs, ichor bubbling up with the heavy smell of infection hidden behind a mesh of webs. ​

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[Cherryblossom]

Cherrykit blinks at the deadpan expanse of Duskpool's face, hovering unfazed upon the thin crust of blood flaking off beneath the cobweb wads. The tom brings a large paw up to his face for the sole purpose of expression, because even Cherrykit can figure out wounds weren't supposed to be touched when they're this severe. In direct contradiction to the warrior's words, she sits down neatly. "I don't care about Dawnglare," she huffs, a half-truth. The medicine cat's cinnamon-coated grin is the stuff of nightmares, but StarClan be damned if she was going to let rumors of a rosy ghost scare her away. He was probably off cavorting with Mallowlark anyway. As though predicting his thoughts, she adds smugly, "Mama doesn't know I'm here." Another breath, another lungful of heady red. "Does it hurt?" Yukio cried, but he was a crybaby anyway. Snowpath cried, but only for a second it seemed. And Cherrykit had cried, but not because her body hurt.
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[DUSKPOOL]

anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶​

He huffed, rolling molten copper at the declaration. “Sure, kid.” Don’t come cryin’ when he comes ‘round that corner. Duskpool settled, tail curling around massive paws, giving Cherry a critical look, scoffing. “She’s sleeping, huh?” He mused, shaking his helm, ignoring the low thrum of his wounds, pulsing in tandem with the slow beat of his heart.

His brow rose at the question, molten copper narrowing, mulling it over. “Not a lot.” Duskpool had been in and out of concessions with no real sense of time. He should be thankful, and yet guilt pooled deep within his gut, almost suffocating. “Can’t seem to remember much of the pain.” Claws idly tapped the edge of his temporary nest, peering down at the small kit, and heaving a sigh. His paw shifted, chin pressing against the callous pads, gaze uninterested. “Why the peculiar interest, mhm?” His brow rose. ​

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[Cherryblossom]

Mismatched ears bob back and forth in her nod. Orangeblossom is sleeping, which means Cherrykit is so good at sneaking around. She woke up Duskpool though, so maybe she isn't the best. Oh well. She tilts her head as the stolid answer, only three words to describe the now-tattered canvas of his body. Not. A. Lot. Bites and slashes are supposed to be painful, as the girl knows well from her tussles with the other kittens. Maybe Duskpool can't feel pain. He's hurt, so that means he can be hurt, but he might not be able to feel when he is.

Thankfully, the scarred warrior clarifies it before she can reach out a paw and test his threshold. "Remember it?" she echoes, tilting her head. "You don't have to remember it. You can just feel it," she advises him, neatly curling her tail around her paws. A lick of the paw, swipe over her ears. "You can't feel it?" A question Cherrykit feels like she already knows the answer to, and Duskpool's voice rises and rolls on again. She doesn't have an answer to why she's interested: she's simply interested. When she's hungry she wants food, and when she's tired she wants a nap, so when she's interested she wants answers. "Are you bad at fighting?" she suddenly asks. Why else would he get so hurt?
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[DUSKPOOL]

anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶​

Duskpool huffed, rolling his uninjured shoulder at the inquiry, humming. “Maybe.” He mused, tail flickering as he peered down at the youngster, head tilted some degree, resting his chin against his paw. “That’s the problem, kid.” He began, side heaving with a deep, soulful breath. “You know, kid. Just because I don’t feel it, doesn’t mean I can’t.” Molten copper narrowed cryptically. He felt it, damn did he feel the bone-deep tiredness infused with the very essence of his soul, pain engraved within the very fiber of his begin, growing numb to it all.

Shaking his helm, the obsidian-hued male shuffled in his nest, drawing a pained grunt from darkened lips. “Depends.” He snorted, cracking a grin, marred flesh crinkling. He sure as hell didn’t think he was bad, but he sure didn’t prove that when the damn beast came out of nowhere, shoving Bobbie out of the way as he took the brunt of the fall. “You see anyone else here that’s as beat up as me?” He inquired, deadpan. “Means I did a decent job.” At least he hadn’t been a total washout.

Lifting a paw, Duskpool tucked it against his frame, molten copper narrowing. “Got em’ protectin’ kid.” He finished. ​

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[Cherryblossom]

Duskpool's eye narrows every time he speaks, until it seems like little more than another amber-colored scratch crusted onto his face. He calls her 'kid' a lot too, something she thought had been reserved for Drizzlepaw based on what she's overheard of them coming back from patrols. It's strange because she's nothing like his apprentice. Drizzlepaw is just another SkyClanner, boring because he doesn't stray too close to the nursery (or if he does, she's never there). Cherrykit is special enough to sneak out of the nursery to visit Duskpool, she supposes, who is about as inviting of a conversationalist as Slate or Silversmoke. He's a little more talkative, which she enjoys, but he's no Twitchbolt nor Auburnflame. She can't put her whisker on it; maybe he's just not fun to talk to. Still, it's not like she wants to run the risk of waking Orangeblossom by tromping back into their nest.

The tom's answer comes rumbling from his throat, at first incomprehensible as though its meaning had been battered and chipped away by the gravel in his lungs. "Just because I don't feel it, doesn't mean I can't." Cherrykit tilts her head the other way. At this point in life, she'd never bothered to make too much of a difference between don't and can't. If she thought about it harder, she might come to the realization that the hulking warrior actively chooses not to feel, a choice foisted upon him far too many times. But she doesn't think about it, doesn't even see it as a thing she could or should think about. "Okay," she mews, ending the train of thought.

He shakes his head but utters something slightly contradictory. A frown creases her muzzle. "I guess not," she answers. Bobbie rests somewhere nearby, though she can't quite make out her pale pelt in the darkness. She'd been hurt, but she hadn't keeled over like a rotting tree in the middle of camp either. Duskpool was so injured protecting others. Gears grind beneath her patched skull, painstakingly twisting out thought. Eggkit protected her from a snake once, but she doesn't remember him being bitten. "I would do a better job," she concludes, narrowing her eyes back at him. A cavalier smile flits across her face as she announces, "I would protect them and not get hurt."
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