sensitive topics DELUSIONS OF SAVIOUR [ injury ]

[mothpaw .]

// tw for abuse and slight graphic descriptions of a small injury!

'Training' is what Webstripe had called it. The travel out to a small, secluded location in the marshes, barely noting what things they were passing, and where they were. Mothpaw was just excited to get out of camp with Webstripe instead of having to beg any of the other warriors around camp to take him on patrols. Yes, his mentor was around! That was perfect. Mothpaw had been sastisfied, following him out of camp on the trek. It wasn't long until they had reached the location.

Webstripe- a taller, brown tabby with splotchy white patches on his pelt, and mean yellow eyes. Mothpaw had always been taught that he couldn't judge by the cover, right? Perhaps that phrase was right, but Webstripe was one of those that you could probably ignore that saying for. They had done some menial training in the meantime- Mothpaw scenting for prey and Webstripe moving to catch it without showing his apprentice how. But that was normal. Mothpaw didn't mind, not really, not since he had interaction with his mentor at all. The burning itch of curiosity, perhaps awakened by Needledrift finally burnt through, and Mothpaw couldn't keep his mouth shut. "Hey, Webstripe? Do you think.. I could try?"

Webstripe's sigh was telling, perhaps, to anyone with a better head on their shoulders. His mentor had his back turned to the younger, ears flattened and tail lashing. Mothpaw didn't really know, after all- so, he continued to talk, despite the annoyed and angered tone chasing Webstripe's breath. "Needledrift was showing me-" Mothpaw began to explain, and that's when it went wrong. His mentor moved as quick as a viper, claws flashing across Mothpaw's face. The apprentice called out, staggering backwards and his ears flattened, tail lowered. Hopeful eyes dropped down to his paws, then back up towards Webstripe swiftly.

The crude tabby had his mouth curled in anger, chest heaving. Accusing words dropped out of his normally shut mouth. "You've been taught by other warriors? When?" He snarled out. Mothpaw took another step backwards. His mouth worked, and fear started to strike him. The fear-scent that reached Webstripe caused the other to smile, all teeth and no eyes, lifting his claws to his mouth. Blood, blood from Mothpaw, he licked from it. Cleaned it, covered Moth's scent in his own. Mothpaw managed an answer- "Just.. a few days ago-" He flinched when Webstripe sighed again, all dramatics and thick with exasperation. "Don't listen to them. I'm your mentor, and I'll make you a perfect warrior. Okay?" He smiled again- another thing that Mothpaw focused on. Not the look in his eyes, not the body language followed behind the other's body- the lashing tail.

Mothpaw slowly nodded, his paw reaching up to touch at his own face. A crude gash cut down his cheek. Webstripe was talking all over again. "Go back to camp and get that treated. I can't have you die from infection." He said, flicking his tail. "Then we can keep training, good?" Webstripe stated, and Mothpaw gently nodded. With the sting in his cheek and the blood dripping down his chin, he headed back to camp.

By the time he was padding into camp, through the pine trees, his fear scent had mostly faded. The gash down his cheek was still bleeding, but not as bad as it had a few moments ago. They hadn't been terribly far from camp, but definitely out of earshot. Mothpaw's eyes were down, trying to head for the rock cave of the medicine den before anyone noticed.

// note: he'll smell like webstripe, but no one should know that it was him at first! cats will know they left camp together, and mothpaw returned by himself looking like a kicked puppy with a nasty wound on his cheek!​

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"speech"​

 

[mottlefox]

ShadowClan's mentors are, in Mottlepaw's experienced opinion, either the worst cats you've ever met in your life or the grumpiest cats you've ever met in your life; and there's no small overlap between those two things and their skill levels as warriors. In the season-and-a-half they've been here, they've also learned that their mentor Ivyback trades her niceness for a certain level of technical knowledge that her apprentice has long since outgrown. But at least they've not been paired with someone like Webstripe, who over the last few moons has gained a notorious reputation for being as easily annoyed as Granitepelt, but lazy and abortive with his training. They feel sorry for Mothpaw.

Mottlepaw is midway through enjoying a good scratch behind the ear when the Mothpaw in question enters camp (hey, would you look at that) and they mean to ask him about where one of their twoleg trinkets have gone but the bleeding red on his face derails those plans instantly.

"Hey-a, Mothpaw- oh, you good? That's a nasty cut on your cheek." They ask, falling into step with the smaller apprentice on his injured side. Mottlepaw's own cheek-scar sits facing him like some twisted mirror, an unwitting reflection of what this could one day be, but the sepia's features are pinched with concern. They part their jaws briefly, but find themself confused by the lack of hostile scent. No fox, no badger, just Webstripe and blood-tang. That's weird- and that confusion plays out on their muzzle. "I saw movement in the cave just now, you should be able to get that looked at right away. Want some company?"

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[Frostbite]

Frostbite watches Mothpaw return to camp with claw marks on his cheek. He bristles, eyes narrowing. What happened? He may be a queen and restricted to the nursery for now, but that doesn't stop him from worrying about the apprentices of this clan. Especially when the danger they face could very well be their mentor, as time has repeatedly shown.

He does not jump to conclusions just yet, however. Anything could have happened.

He is feeling better every day now, and finds himself strong enough to walk over to the injured apprentice on steady legs. It's good to be able to move around again without feeling exhausted. He no longer struggles, and looks like the imposing white ghost he was before.

"Did something happen?" He asks calmly. He does not smell anything suspicious... No rogue scent. Just Webstripe. Reassuring in its own way, he supposed. At least there's not someone roaming the marsh that shouldn't be here.

"I remember seeing you leave with Webstripe. Where is he?" He adds. If anyone could explain what happened, it would be him. He's responsible for Mothpaw, after all. He suspects it to be a case of training gone wrong.​

 

[Starlingheart]

Starlingheart is laid sprawled out in front of the medicine cats den, more than likely watching her kits play and if not - then relaxing while they took a nap. It was a lot, juggling motherhood with her medicine cat duties and she finds herself with little time to herself lately. If not for Granitepelt she would go under completely but he was there, making sure she was eating and helping her to groom her fur and for that she would be eternally grateful. He truly was the best mate a cat could ask for.

When Mothpaw returns and she sees red on his cheek she lets out a breathy sigh. So much for her moment of peace huh? Reluctantly, she pushes herself to her paws and heads into her den to retrieve a sprig of marigold and cobwebs. When she returns she heads straight to Mothpaw, who was probably already on his way to her den. "I'm here" she says, her voice soft and sympathetic. "Hold still" she tells the young cat as she leans down and takes the marigold into her mouth once again, chewing until it was a pulp that she then spread onto his cheek and covered in cobwebs. "Take it easy until- until it heals. I'll tell your mentor" It was more credible, she learned, if she was the one telling mentors their apprentices needed to rest. It was hard to argue with a medicine cat after all.

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[mothpaw .]

Mothpaw, against his wishes, did NOT go unnoticed. His ears flattened as he heard another apprentice calling out for him, as if it could make him smaller, but the other was persistent. That, and Mothpaw's gait was a tad bit shorter then the larger, so he couldn't just scamper away if he really wanted to. Mottlepaw asks him a question, and confusion spread's on the other's face as they realize Mothpaw's mentor isn't stalking back into camp. He began to speak, though it was with discomfort, the injury on his face doing a number or two to him. "I'll be alright- you don't have to come with me if you don't want to. Hate to be burden, y'know?"

Mothpaw really was trying to do his best to sound chipper- upbeat, like normal, but the falter of his voice was telling enough. Frostbite came next, with more questions. The apprentice halted in his step- a side glance given towards Starlingheart as she moved into the medicine den to retrieve herbs. His vision focused back on the warrior at paw. "It was just a fall, really- Webstripe went to do some.. solo hunting." Moth's voice trailed off, a bit hesitant. It wasn't a lie, no, it was more of a will Webstripe dislike me answering these questions?

Starlingheart was returning, giving Mothpaw a break from the couple questions he was asked. He did as told, holding still as best he could. He still hissed gently as the wound was touched, ignoring the urge to pull away and squeezing his eyes shut instead. He nodded quietly as Starlingheart spoke, but it wasn't as if Webstripe would totally listen. He thought, anyways. "I'm... I'm okay, really, Webstripe will want to see me back." He said, trying to smile- and failing due to the sting in his cheek. ​

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"speech"​

 

[Magpiepaw]

"You were wounded and he went to hunt rather than escort you here to see a healer proper?" The medicine cat apprentice trills, padding along after Starlingheart had woken him from a nap in her hurry to fetch herbs and he dutifully follows after her with extra cobweb in his mouth that is neatly set aside in the interim. It sounded as though Webstripe cared more about hunting than his apprentice - what a fool of a mentor that was. He thinks of how Rainecho, when he was still training to be a warrior, insisted he rest his broken tail rather than force him to keep training with her and though it had still healed incorrectly it was not due to her negligence.
The tom hums, annoyed and hoping that this will be told to Chilledstar and that the leader will actually do something about it. Idiots ought to not have apprentices.
When Mothpaw insists on heading back already his ears flick upward in surprise.
"Are you stupid?" Magpiepaw asks suddenly, tone calm and without malicious despite the words used, "Wounds do not mend unless you let them. Further activity will only make it worse and we will waste further resources on something later that should have been trivial." The black and white apprentice's teeth click as he flicks a tongue against them thoughtfully before his eyes hone in on Mothpath with a sharp intensity that was not anger but rather a firm insistence, "You WILL come to the medicine cat den and rest. I am not asking."
Any argument would be taken as a personal offense to Starlingheart and he would drag the other by the ear if it was necessary.
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