sensitive topics crawl on my belly 'til the sun goes down // pafp

[Periwinklebreeze.]

❀​❀ I FEEL SCARED AND I'M STARTING TO SINK ❀❀​
periwinklebreeze | 11 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically medium (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff

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A bloodstrained trail crosses the moorlands as Peri trudges onwards, his limping gait slowing more and more the further he crawls, the trail slowly drying up before it eventually stops as his wounds finally clot. He'd quickly ran out of steam as the pin had set in the and bloodloss begun creeping to his head - dizziness send sparks of white and the blurring of shadows across his vision with near every breath. He has to make it back to camp - he cannot die here, will not. He refuses to give the strange riverclan tom the satisfaction of adding his body to the count. A pained groan slips past hid lips, blood tinged spittle splattering upon the ground as it quickly turns into a wheezing cough. He has only himself to blame for that - biting his own tongue, how pitiful.

But his body feels as though he has been lit on fire, and suddenly he can no longer think about such self-depreciating thoughts. He stumbles, tripping over his own paws and landing face-down in the dirt with another groan. His efforts are futile he thinks, mind white and blank. He's going to die after all. It's all he can do to pull himself back to his paws, blinking as his head spins around, searching for the first hiding place he can spot. Camp cannot be far, he thinks, perhaps if he rests now he will be able to trudge the rest of the way a little later. His eyes light upon a tunnel, the entrance a tight fit but one he thinks he can make, if only to escape the blistering sun and the hawks he fears hover over head.

It feels like an eternity that he spends limping over at a snails crawl, before he finally collapses down into the damp darkness. He can barely tuck his limbs into the space before he runs out of room, but its good enough - as good a place to wait for help, or at least rest his aching limbs. He's not certain anyone will ever come, but as blue eyes close he can only pray to starclan that he'll survive. He is wet and dirty and sticky with blood, aching and sore and injured all over, and yet somehow sleep finds him anyways - pulling him under before he even realizes it.

// please wait for @whitepaw
- a summary: this takes place simultaneously with the main river patrol return thread! peri never managed to regroup, and veered off not to far from camp to take a rest.
CW: injuries, mentions of fear of death

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[whitedawn]

Navigating the darkness of the tunnels was quickly becoming a comfort for the ivory apprentice, especially during patrol days to make sure the tunnels were stable. Flicking an ear, she opened her maw to practice her scenting as she lingered by her mentor's side. "Should we check this way?" She trilled softly at her mentor, an odd, almost out-of-place scent reaching her nose. Once she was given permission, she went ahead first. She only navigated so far ahead before she located the oddity in the tunnels. It was the bloodied form of a cat, and for a brief breath, she almost assumed the stranger was dead until she noticed the weak rise and fall of their chest. Moving closer, her eyes widened further when she was able to identify who it was. "Periwinklebreeze?" She called with a soft whisper, carefully prodding him with a paw. Alarmed, she turned her head and called out. "Ambertail! Someone!" She cried out, her tone nearly a wail and unusually loud for her soft-spoken self. "It's Periwinklebreeze! He's really hurt!" She called out further, ears pinned back in distress.

//mentor tag @AMBERTAIL ​

[I'M BREATHING]​

 

[AMBERTAIL]

Quiet darkness– comfort. Ambertail knows it like nothing else. Away from the chaos of their lives and the danger that this world presents. Wrapped in his own dangers, his own worries. The small cat slinks about the tunnels a wraith. An unknown figure. A creature unimportant to the grand scheme of things. He is pleased with that. Content. He follows Whitepaw to ensure that she learns. One day he will not be here to watch over her. One day she will be on her own. Is this how a parent feels? Is this how Hyacinthbreath felt, as she stared upon her son across the border and pleaded with him to leave? Worry fills their chest. Above the dirt, blood. Coppery and wet, a dirty-filthy stench of water. "Whitepaw," he cautions, yet it is far too late and she is too far ahead of him.

His paws pick up to a run. Periwinklebreeze. He does not know the young warrior well. Knows nothing aside from Sootstar's disdain for him, and his clanmates' distrust. But a clanmate is a clanmate. Blind as he may be, that does not stop Ambertail from shouldering past his apprentice and sticking his nose to the filthy fur. He seeks a heartbeat and breath. Anything at all worth saving. And luckily for them all, they think that they have found it. "Return to camp. Get Sootstar and Vulturemask. Be swift. Do not lose yourself." He will sit here until she returns– should she not lose her way. It is as good a test as any.

˗ˏˋ〚  OOC NOTES INFORMATION 〛´ˎ˗

• ooc: —
• ──── ambertail. tunneler of windclan. nb, he or they.
  ──── adult, though precise age unlabeled as of now.
  ──── sexuality unknown. a strange windclan cryptid.
  
  ──── a tiny, yet proportionally long-limbed tortoiseshell with unfocused amber eyes. though they retain their color, ambertail is blind. those who don't know as much may be confused, and will certainly be met with dry responses from the tunneler himself.
• "speech"

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[LAMBCURL.]

No matter what you find in this world– cruelty some may whisper, the tunnels beckon you forward with a yawning maw. Roundness, routine, home washes over Lambcurl so solemnly that he may never find boredom in the monotonies of life. Monotony did not always equal dullness, for these things would greet you kindly each and every day.

So is to say, he is blissfully unaware of the battle having raged, and the battered that would return, seeped in its smell. If he listens closely, he can hear a labored breath. If he listens far, he can hear the heavy breaths of many. For now, he focuses on what it ahead, eyes for once wide in all their sensitive pinkness. Unaccustomed to urgency, he follows behind his peer with a bobbing step. As much so as it could be down here, anyways. They call for dear whitepaw, and then... Periwinklebreeze.

" Oh... Here? " he asks, for this is not a place where they should be. Perhaps even those on winding legs could not resist the earths call, but it was dangerous for them; that sacrifice... unnecessary. Lambcurl tilts his head, not one to break their order only for a look. He hears the breathing. It wasn't right. It's blood, that he smells. Not meant for here. Not really. " You need more than dirt... " Those wounds would need medicine. And medicine was not here. " Are you able to move? We'd only ask you nicely. " Whiskers tremble along the earth's walls.

〖 OOC 𓆩ꕥ𓆪 NOTES 〗

• —
  
•  
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  LAMBCURL: HE / HIM , CISGENDER MALE ; GAY & SINGLE, IN LOVE WITH EVERYBODY TBH ; TUNNELER OF WINDCLAN ; 41 MOONS
  
  tiny, curly - furred albino tom with teary pink eyes. ; dreamy – eyed and dreamy – minded, Lambcurl drags himself across the land with an ever-present smile and glassy bug eyes. Deeply honored to hold his position as a tunneler and whisperingly reverent with everything he does. Somewhat unnerving in ideals and the way he speaks, but he means well.
  — tentative voice claim: fox mulder
  

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[Periwinklebreeze.]

❀​❀ I FEEL SCARED AND I'M STARTING TO SINK ❀❀​
periwinklebreeze | 11 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically medium (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff

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Its slow going, but at some point the sound of voices has him beginning to stir. Eyes flutter and crack open, the world spinning and blurry. He almost doesn't recall where he is - what has happened, but the ache in his belly reminds him otherwise. Oh - "R-r-riverclan... attacked," he gasps out, voice dry and cracking. "Mm... to tired t-to walk... didn... want.... eat'n... h-hawk..." his speech is even more incomprehensible than usual, all drawn out and slurred, but he's so tired. He wants to go back to camp - needs to really but it's a struggle to even stay awake, to get his mind in order enough to move. Maybe he'll just... rest a bit longer. Yes, just a bit longer, thats all.
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