private Don't make a sound Tattletail ♡ Gentlestorm

[WRATHHOWL]

*+:｡.｡ It's a beautiful afternoon for a world so grey and lifeless. With heavy paws, he's steadily growing into walking with a whole new weight as he trails listlessly behind the larger tom he'd once so desperately admired. He still does, truthfully, but it's hard not to feel that admiration without a burning dread as the kind-hearted tom seems to want to look at absolutely anything besides his...guard. Wrathpaw shivers at the title, looking over his shoulder as if expecting Skyclaw to appear from the shadows and grin expectantly at him - all teeth and little else. Floating in a nameless limbo, neither kitty-pet nor supporter, neither patriot nor entirely a traitor; depending on which side you perceived him from, he was a failure. A killer on one end, a coward on another, but one thing could be agreed upon by both sides...he was no proper Thunderclanner...
But at least there was more forgiveness to be found if he lingered closest to Skyclaw...Even if he was the last cat he found peace with.

Licking his lips nervously, he watches as Gentlestorm plods ahead, trusted by Skyclaw to "keep the medicine cat in line", an insane notion considering Wrathpaw couldn't imagine the old man's loyalties being tied to anyone besides his clan. While they lacked a medicine cat apprentice, he doubts Gentlestorm would abandon Thunderclan especially when...He squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to think about Mousenose and Palefire...he fails.

"How um...how's Palefire doing?" Wrathpaw breaks the silence with all the grace of a woodpecker's beak against screeching ice. He waits for an uncomfortable moment for Gentlestorm to speak, tail lashing behind him in an attempt to relieve himself of his sputtering nerves. It doesn't help. "Do you...do you have an idea of who'll be your future apprentice?" he smiles, but it soon falls when he attempts to catch Gentlestorm's eye fails again. Shuffling his paws, he lets the older tom trail ahead before suddenly recalling his orders and scrambling after him. "Your ah - your fur looks really nice today, by the way...super-ah-super soft...looking...d-did you groom it recently?" Starclan almighty, he flounders and odd desperation bubbling forth in his chest. Look at me he longs to beg, loathing more than ever the sound of his own voice as it practically mewls like a kitten, starved of it's mother's milk. His stomach lurches, reminded of his perpetual hunger. "Gentlestorm..." he begins, tempted to ask the man about his persisting ailment, "Gentlestorm?" he repeats, a shaky intensity to his voice. Look at me. He doesn't. LOOK AT ME. He won't.
LOOK AT ME!
Why? So he can see the hollowness that's left of you? The blood that stains your paws? The shame and loneliness that will never, ever be enough to bring Howlingstar and Pebblestep back!?

"Fucking LOOK AT ME!" the boy suddenly screeches, voice cracking with the force of his howl. He tries to clamp his jaws shut immediately after, but the clacking of his teeth does nothing to dispel the birds that have suddenly taken flight and the fleeing mice that rustle through the bushes. The forest is now hushed by his cry, though he can practically feel Starclan's gaze burning him through the tree's canopy, the curtain of clouds, and the too-bright blues the paint the sky.

But their attention is the least of his fears now...

*+:｡.｡ Updated 7/9/24

• 
  
  
• 
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ♡ Wrathpaw
  ♡ DMAB— He/Him
  ♡ 10 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ♡ Brother to Lovelight, Joywing, Laughblossom || Pridepaw, Merrypaw
  ♡ Thunderclan — apprentice
  ♡ Mentored by Wildheart
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ♡Physically mediocre | mentally very easy
  ♡ Attack in bold #4a59ff
  injuries: None currently , mentally unwell
  "SPEECH"
  

​

 

[GENTLESTORM]

.𓍊↟ DOWN THE BANK WHERE THE DOGS ROAM, POR LA CALLE QUE TE LLEVA A CURICÓ ↟𓍊.​

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. — It tries to speak with him but the silvery tom cannot bare to even spare a glance in the direction of his late friend's murderer, no, disgust coils in his belly and his blood theatens to boil at the sound of Wrathpaw's voice. The medicine cat is well-known for his kindness and warm personality yet there's nothing to offer for the creature that walks behind him making sure that he doesn't get out of line, it makes the older tom want to snort at that notion but he keeps searching for herbs and... a way to sneak out a smaller and younger cat through the thick foliage, his dark eyes pinpointing several spots though he makes sure not to let his gaze linger as he continues to search for herbs whilst ignoring his guard. His guard isn't his clanmate nor friend at this current time but someone that's keeping him away from the rest of his friends and clips his wings before he could even take flight.

The larger tom only catches a few words here and there but he mostly tunes out the other's voice until he hears the soft repetition of his name. "Gentlestorm?" For a brief heartbeat, he can feel the ache of his own heart within his chest as he continues to push through the thick undergrowth and truly ponders if what he's doing is right... Everything felt so wrong ever since Howlingstar had been killed by Skyclaw and there's a notable imbalance. So much injustice for his own clanmates and those with kittypet blood coursing through their veins but before he could turn to consider an apology to his guard, a screech interrupts the bird song that filled the forest and the sound of frantic wings taking flight causes his pelt to prickle. A demand for him to look at Wrathpaw and it serves as a wakeup call for the medicine cat, a snap in his mind and heart.

The fur along his spine prickling upwards into a crest as he whips around at last to stare at his friend's killer with a narrowed gaze as his snout wrinkles and lips peel to briefly reveal his fangs. He hasn't felt this much anger since... since the incident with Baying Hound and Fallowpaw with her littermates... It's an ugly anger that rarely shows but Gentlestorm doesn't push it aside nor does he douse it out for Wrathpaw's sake. They all have forgotten that he had been a warrior before taking on the path of a healer that he isn't a delicate flower that bends to the will or the demands of weeds, he has thorns to protect himself and he won't hesitate in doing such. He doesn't care if he may end up being unable to leave camp altogether or having two guards, he doesn't give a fuck as he faces Wrathpaw.

"I'm looking at you." The pale tom snarls to the apprentice as his claws barely unsheathe to dig into the soil beneath his large paws with his ears pressing flat against his skull "What is it you wish for me to see that I'm blind to?" The search for herbs forgotten and the plans of escape abandoned as he begins to circle the other to give him the full attention that the apprentice had demanded earlier. "I'M FUCKING LOOKING AT YOU." His own thunderous yowl comes out, he doesn't care if the other flinches from the sudden yelling on his end or Gentlestorm raising his voice at all. His claws itch to dig into the skin of the other but he continues to tear at the soil and small plants beneath his paws, his ears angling forward as he tilts his helm to the side "What am I looking at?" Another small jab as he circles the other once more as he growls once more.

"All I see in front of me is the murderer of my friend." He finally stops in front of the other as the clouds part from the suns side as it seeps through the company and causes his pelt to shine under its glow, for he is Starclan's mouthpiece. "You are no better than Skyclaw." His voice drips with venom as his words sink their fangs into Wrathpaw and he shakes his head once more "Starclan won't welcome you when you let out your final, ragged breath." He couldn't make that judgement alone but the murder of his own leader didn't seem like something Silverpelt would allow and he blinks his eyes ignoring the stinging feeling that he felt budding at the corner of them. He finally turns away from the other not caring if he's exposed his backside, he dares that thing to attack him and he would make sure he'd return back to camp alone.

"I had believed that all the wolves had been vanquished... I have been proven wrong." His voice sounds empty as he says this and flicks his ears at last, "I am not your friend. You're my guard so fucking act like it." Without another word, Gentlestorm pushes forward on his search for herbs once more.

⡠﹞AND DOWN BY THE BEACH ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. WHERE NO OTHERS CAN FIND﹝⠢

• 

  MEDICINE CAT IN TRAINING;
  — ✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿ FLESH WOUNDS
  — ✿✿✿✿✿✿✿❀❀❀ INFECTIONS
  — ✿✿✿✿✿✿✿❀❀❀ ACHES & PAINS
  — ✿✿✿✿✿✿❀❀❀❀ ILLNESS
  — ✿✿✿✿✿✿❀❀❀❀ BREATHING ISSUES
  — ✿❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀ TRAVELING HERBS
  — ✿✿✿✿✿✿✿❀❀❀ BROKEN BONES
  — ✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿ KITTING
  — ❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀ POISONS
• 
  ✿ a longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white and brown eyes
  ✿ gentlestorm is a very warm individual and friendly to those who he meets, he's very social and willing to lend anyone a paw if they need it. he's very patient, caring, and it's usually rare to earn his ire.
  ✿ 58 moons old; ages the 27th every month
  ✿ demiromantic bisexual ; widowed mate of little wolf
  ✿ easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset ; peaceful powerplay allowed
  ✿ "speech", thoughts, attacking

​

 

[WRATHHOWL]

*+:｡.｡ Wrathpaw still thinks he's a kid.
Or maybe he longs for it so badly, that sweet fantasy of a time when life had been so hopeful, that he refuses the reminders of his age, his actions, his place...or lack thereof. So when Gentlestorm rounds on him, soft golden eyes now twin flames of sunset fury. Wrathpaw immediately drops to his stomach, his crouch made awkward as he leans further away despite trapping himself in the leaf-litter. Gentlestorm doesn't seem phased by Wrathpaw's smaller size as he snarls in response to Wrathpaw's demands. "I - I" he begins feebly, only to be washed away by the medicine cat's commitment to answering Wrathpaw's insolence with a vengeance.

He feels like a kit whose paw was caught in the herb storage. A sickly betrayal fills in his chest, expected of a naive youth unprepared to witness a hero felled by a limit in their patience. In Wrathpaw's young existence, he'd experienced so little, but he had doubted the pattern he'd begun to see in those around him. Calm, collected adults made into screaming wraiths, their kindness undone by the simplest of pressures - at least in Wrathpaw's eyes. He'd thought to label each event as simple mistakes bashed in with unjust consequences far exceeding the crime. To get yelled at for touching an herb, for asking for attention...isn't that just so cruel?

"All I see in front of me is the murderer of my friend."

Wrathpaw isn't a kid anymore.

The boy stills, the muscles beneath his thin coat aching from the sharp shift between trembling to freezing in place. He looks up from the ground, slowly, like an exhausted prisoner struggling to push a boulder up a hill, hesitant for the punishment to come at the crest, and meets Gentlestorm's eyes. It's starlight that he sees in Gentlestorm's cold amber hues, not a wildfire. This isn't a random cataclysm no one could've expected, a tragedy without cause...it's persecution.
And Wrathpaw knows exactly what for.

"Starclan won't welcome you when you let out your final, ragged breath."

Dread pools in his stomach, but it has nowhere to go. There's only a hole there. A hollowness that has swallowed his entrails and slowly eats its way into his ribcage. It mauls the apologies clawing at his tongue and bites deep into his skull until the thoughts bleed from him one by one until he's left a living corpse, only staring, at a man named after his unfalliable kind nature...
With no more patience left to give.
No, not because Wrathpaw had been caught with his paw stuck in a precious herb storage...

It's because these very hands stole the life of a friend dear to him.
A murderer's hands.


Wrathpaw, empty, feels an odd calmness envelop him. Gentlestorm turns away without so much as a glance back, leaving the killer to pick up the pieces. He does so, for there is simply no other choice. His fate is sealed.
" Let's be honest here" The words that slip from his mouth are strangely firm, a leaf that sits comfortably atop a lake that refuses to allow even a single ripple, "if you wanted to run, to kill me, it'd be a walk in the park for you" Leaf after leaf, stems decayed, float atop that empty void of deep blue water as he steps after his medicine cat - Thunderclan's medicine cat. "I'm not your guard" he finally concludes. It's not an apology. It's not a plea for mercy. It's...a favor. The least he could do, or say, considering all he's done.
A kindness through the bars of a cage he doesn't doubt will revert sometime soon.

"But...I can be useful if you'll let me" he offers. There are choices before him. If he doesn't think too hard about them, or their consequences or the meaning behind them or what they could mean...then he'll see them clearly. Right now, thoughts as empty as a gut that has no strength to growl despite its raging hunger, he sees one that he would've picked no matter the future, the present, or the past.

He's quiet for a long moment, whether Gentlestorm responds or not, before saying, "I...miss helping people, Gentlestorm. I don't want to stop doing that. " a waver enters his voice then, a longing for the past threatening to dredge itself forward. He swallows it down.

*+:｡.｡ Updated 7/9/24

• 
  
  
• 
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ♡ Wrathpaw
  ♡ DMAB— He/Him
  ♡ 10 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ♡ Brother to Lovelight, Joywing, Laughblossom || Pridepaw, Merrypaw
  ♡ Thunderclan — apprentice
  ♡ Mentored by Wildheart
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ♡Physically mediocre | mentally very easy
  ♡ Attack in bold #4a59ff
  injuries: None currently , mentally unwell
  "SPEECH"
  

​