private double exposure ➺ gentlestorm

[doepath ࿔]

The transition was impressed upon her by a nature... in the heaviness of her body, the way her joints protested the extra labor. But also in the grim frown of a weary-eyed medicine cat. She'd protested, in vain, that she might be of use for a little bit longer, that another stiff-limbed walk might change things. Now all that was left was to laze away in the nursery, suffocated in empty time to think about her position, to think about who she was and what that meant for her future kits.

She woke up again feeling sick, even as the other queens set about eating with their kits, Doepath couldn't even bring herself to take a bite. It took more effort than she cared to admit to sit up... to groom the loose nest material out of her pelt and shamble out into the frostbitten camp. She could thank StarClan for her heavy coat, to keep her warm against blustering winds... but it felt like a weak comfort when competed against with such powerful bouts of nausea.

Pressing aside the thin draping that shielded the medicine den, the pale she-cat lifted her nose to sniff at the air for Gentlestorm's scent... Maybe it was selfish of her to assume he might not be busy with Hopepaw. Just another change she'd have to grapple with, another hurdle to reach what had once been an easily accessible pillar of support. She didn't want to crowd him... to stifle the apprentice's learning either.

Everything felt like a mistake.

His nest is empty... tattered where his fitful sleep has had him rolling amongst it. It smells so familiar and reassuring after so many nights spent alone. Her concerns about her selfishness go forgotten, clambering into his nest to tuck herself neatly within it in hopes that maybe the comfort of his familiar scent might ease some of her discomfort. Just until he got back...

please dont leave me ➺ in the dark

• @GENTLESTORM no rush to respond of course <3

• DOEPATH
  fifteen month old warrior of thunderclan
  she/her fawn sepia with low white and yellow eyes

 

[GENTLESTORM]

༄.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — He had stormed into his den immediately got to work on his injured clanmates that he hadn't really noticed the slumbering form within his own nest, a frown pulling at his maw as blood began to lap at his paws while cleaning wounds with some wet moss. The sight of blood anywhere on his body is naseauting sight by now but he knows that he can't exactly avoid it when his own clanmates get injured and it weighs on him knowing that some of his herbs are getting reduced down in numbers due to how much they had suffered in the fight at Sunningrocks. He finishes his work only to pace around moderating the breathing of Raccoonstripe and Squirrelpaw as his short tail lashes to the sides with anxiety, the pale tom swallows thinking about how he had shouted at Stormywing and Thundergleam but he tries not to think about it. The taste of sour words leaving his mouth feels as if he's swallowed the most bitter herb in his den and that alone makes his stomach churn even more uncomfortably as the paranoia starts to eat away at his mind.

He feels sick with his paws stained crimson and his usually pale coat is a dull color of watery blood after carrying Raccoonstripe back home along with Roaringsun and Pinestep, perhaps, he should rest in his nest... The restless healer paces a bit more until he finally makes his way over to his nest thinking about moving it so that he's closer to either of his severe condition patients but that thought flies out from his mind when his dark eyes settle on the sight of Doepath nestled there comfortably. His mouth grows dry, his throat tightens, and his eyebrows knit together as he stands there for a few heartbeats only to rasp "Your own nest... would be... a lot more... comfortable..." His tufted ear flicks to the side waiting to see if his gruff voice is enough to make her stir from her sleep and he settles down on his haunches not drawing any closer to her especially when he stinks of blood.

A tired breath slips out from his jaws and he speaks once more "How are... you feeling... ?" A part of him wonders if she had heard everything that he had said to Stormywing and it makes his fur bristle slightly with discomfort, the anger briefly subsiding to make way for guilt and shame as it parts the fur on his body only to sink into his flesh like a tick searching feverishly for blood. He believes it's far too late to try forming an apology to the younger warrior considering how he had taken the blade and severed whatever bond they ever had. And yet... Would he even wish for her compainship knowing that she sired halfclan kittens? The same breed that Skyclaw had been and the chimera had taken several of his clanmates lives... It's Riverclan's problem to deal with if Stormywing's kittens turned out to be just as awful as Little Wolf's son and the memory of him causes a shaky growl to leave his throat.

There's a semi-wild look on his grizzled features as he sits there without another word and rewinds the scene that had unfold during the fight at Sunningrocks, a wave of nausea washes over him especially when he thinks on it for too long. In the end, if Stormywing died then she's her own damnation for breaking the warrior code and having been with the clans long enough to know a lot better.

MORNING & EVENING, I FELT LIKE I WAS GRIEVING ᨒᨒᨒ UNTIL I SAID FUCK YOU

• ooc —

• 

  MEDICINE CAT KNOWLEDGE;
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ FLESH WOUNDS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ INFECTIONS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧ ACHES & PAINS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧ ILLNESS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧ BREATHING ISSUES
  — ✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ TRAVELING HERBS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ BROKEN BONES
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ KITTING
  — ✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧ POISONS
• 
  ✦ a longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white and copper eyes, several scars cover his body from previous fights that he somehow survived
  ✦ gentlestorm is rarely ever a warm individual and friendly to those who he meets, he proceeds with more caution and he's less likely to trust any strangers that come from outside of thunderclan. he tends to be jumpy if suddenly approached or flinches away from swift movement with his claws unsheathed when it occurs, he apologizes for it. his kindness reserved only for those closest to him otherwise anyone else can expect the cold shoulder from the old tom
  ✦ 61 moons old; ages the 27th every month
  ✦ widowed mate of little wolf ; currently interested in no one
  ✦ semi-difficult to befriend/interact with ; quick to strike/attack first if he feels threatened ; peaceful powerplay allowed but proceed with caution
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, attacking

​

 

[doepath ࿔]

It's hard to sleep with the screeching outside... with the overwhelming flood of copper-scent that fills the den. It foretells misfortune... and she is nothing if not worried about the many friends that ran out into that war knowing they might not come back. Braveheart had left, promising to keep Fallowbite safe. Gentlestorm had taken Hopepaw in an effort to keep their clan-mates alive. Though she could've taken comfort in the company of Sunshinespot, there was little that made her happy anymore. Irritable, tired, uncomfortable... and now growing anxious, fearful, frustrated.

The broken cadence of the medicine cat's tone was plenty recognizable... And the shrill sound of his anger is frightening. It is unlike him... so unlike him. Her pelt bristles, waiting as the sound of the shuffling paws grows nearer. You don't understand, a wounded fawn bleats, bleeding where it stands between a wolf and a bird crowing for forgiveness.

He entreats her with far more softness... or maybe he just wants to send her away. So he can seethe and be furious and grumble to himself about all the ways Stormywing's an idiot. A foolish girl. A traitor. Her ears flatten, lifting her head to look in the direction of his voice with a stubbornly inlaid frown. "Hardly..." she answers tersely. What good was her nest going to do but serve as a reminder of where she was? What bed she'd created and now was forced to lie in, day in and day out?

Her lips grow dry under his question... because it has far more layers than she cares to admit. Physically? Tiny paws jab into her ribs. Her back aches. She barely has the interest to eat. Emotionally? Expended of all her patience. Isolated by the hissing that's not-so-quietly directed her way. Mentally? Terrified. Alone with her thoughts and memories, hoping to StarClan they will not let her blood be what becomes her undoing. "Probably better than Stormywing feels," she bites, and her own sharpness startles her.

But something toils more insistently in her belly, urging her to continue while her lips pull back with a growing, unfamiliar but warm heat of frustration... anger? At least she was hidden still... at least she was nothing more than a fly on the wall of this den. Not yet revealed for how her paws slid neatly into the prints that warrior had left behind. Would he hate her too? If she said it right now, would she be chased from his den?

please dont leave me ➺ in the dark

• DOEPATH
  fifteen month old warrior of thunderclan
  she/her fawn sepia with low white and yellow eyes

 

[GENTLESTORM]

༄.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — His whiskers twitch at her answer about her nest not being that comfortable yet the way she had spoke in return causes his heart to skip with anxiety. "Well... we can fix that... I'm sure I can... hunt you... down some... better bedding..." He treads carefully with his words feeling as if he's on a frozen river and if he puts a paw in the wrong spot then he will fall only to drown. The pale tom's eyes focused closely onto her for a few heartbeats wondering if Sunshinespot kicked in his sleep or smothered Doepath too much that it's uncomfortable for the fawn-like molly. He revolves several possibilities in his mind but thinks about how she may find comfort in his nest given that he had always been a constant presence in her life. It eases the nerves that threaten to spiral due to how he feels after snapping at Stormywing, he can feel his mouth grow even more dry when he realizes that maybe she had heard.

"Probably better than how Stormywing feels." The wounded fawn bleats sharply at the heavily scarred wolf that stands before her and it stares right back at her surprised by the sharpness that her tongue yields against it. The wolf had only torn a few feathers from the bird and yet the fawn acts like it had ripped the bird's wing off completely. It's baffled but soon the anger returns as his own sharp eyes stare down at her. You don't understand, the grizzled creature wants to snap back in return but its powerful jaws simply clench with frustration to refrain from speaking such biting words at the already wounded fawn. It had escaped every wire that pierced and pulled skin, every trap laid out by hunters, and silver bullets that briefly grazed its skin...

The fawn is naive and foolish.

"Stormywing... broke the warrior code..." Gentlestorm says at last with a stubborn frown pulling at his lips as he looks towards the heavily pregnant queen, "The... code is put... for a reason... so what happened at Sunningrocks... and what happened... that one day... at the Skyclan and Thunderclan border... does not occur again... Morningpaw died... Little Wolf and Blazestar's daughter..." His tongue is barbed as he speaks trying to get his point across so that Doepath can recognize what the grey tabby had done wrong. It irritates him that she seems to feel empathetic towards the young warrior but perhaps, its the fact that she will be a mother herself one day too. Or her hormones are making her more snappy than a rabid fox.

"Little Wolf broke the code again... and in turn... Skyclaw's born... you saw... the damage he did..." What he did to you... and to me... His ears press flat against his skull at the thought of his late mate having broken the warrior code twice and it makes his stomach churn uncomfortably, she had paid the ultimate price for it... Her own life. A shaky sigh slips from his mouth and the muscles from his body loosen as he glances the other way, Gentlestorm shakes his head "I admit... what I said... about us... losing Sunningrocks... being Stormywing's fault... isn't right... unkind... and unfair..." He relents for a moment only allowing himself to be vulnerable in the presence of Doepath and he swallows feeling sick at himself but he makes no mention of how he'll right this wrong.

"... the damage is done..." The marred wolf mutters.

MORNING & EVENING, I FELT LIKE I WAS GRIEVING ᨒᨒᨒ UNTIL I SAID FUCK YOU

• ooc —

• 

  MEDICINE CAT KNOWLEDGE;
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ FLESH WOUNDS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ INFECTIONS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧ ACHES & PAINS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧ ILLNESS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧ BREATHING ISSUES
  — ✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ TRAVELING HERBS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ BROKEN BONES
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ KITTING
  — ✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧ POISONS
• 
  ✦ a longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white and copper eyes, several scars cover his body from previous fights that he somehow survived
  ✦ gentlestorm is rarely ever a warm individual and friendly to those who he meets, he proceeds with more caution and he's less likely to trust any strangers that come from outside of thunderclan. he tends to be jumpy if suddenly approached or flinches away from swift movement with his claws unsheathed when it occurs, he apologizes for it. his kindness reserved only for those closest to him otherwise anyone else can expect the cold shoulder from the old tom
  ✦ 61 moons old; ages the 27th every month
  ✦ widowed mate of little wolf ; currently interested in no one
  ✦ semi-difficult to befriend/interact with ; quick to strike/attack first if he feels threatened ; peaceful powerplay allowed but proceed with caution
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, attacking

​

 

[doepath ࿔]

A mangled paw lifts with a gentle sway, a denial of the proposed helps- her nest did not lack comfort and frankly, she was well aware already of the glowering sent her way (because their lips moved to articulate their disgruntled opinions too). It would only grow louder the more favors she was handed. She was blind.. but she wasn't deaf. "They're just.... active," is the elaboration offered, a tail tip twitching against the swell of her belly as if to indicate to the nebulous guests.

But that was never meant to be the topic they clung to, bantering over comfort and growth and safety... of the new life that would run circles around their legs soon enough. Argue about the best ways to care for kittens, how to bolster their spirits and calm their fears. Babble about the names she'd been mulling over, whisper with an easy giggle about which ones were meant for him. To honor and cherish his role in her life.

Instead he mentions the code. The way it had been cut through, leaving messy split ends for the clan to shamble through. Her chest squeezes painfully, eyelids dropping to a disapproving glare- "Who are you to judge her? Isn't that the whole point of StarClan?" Stormywing would pay the price over and over again, even after death... Doepath would too. She swallows past the lump in her throat, the burning orb of flame that sears up and begs to be spat in searing breath.

Tales of death before her time do not do much to stoke her sympathy for his cause- those were but a tiny pawful of mistakes. She could be different... Stormywing could be different. They could make it work, could be examples of how to handle these sort of things with grace. If he'd just give her a chance-

"Skyclaw's born... you saw... the damage he did..."

Her discomfort flares more so to be wielded as an example of how that path turns to dark. Wasn't it the environment that created him though? He was not born hating kittypets... he was not born hating himself. Doepath could love her children enough to fill that wound. She could make sure they understood that no one could measure their value based on the parts that made them a whole. Blazingheart was beautiful... and passionate... and strong... They would be all the best parts of him. They could be all the best parts of her too.

Hope makes way to justice-infused fury and before she has even realized her anger, she's lost sight of her argument, "Don't brandish Skyclaw at me." Her face hurts from the tension of her own glaring, "No one is born evil! You can't say that he was... that it was his blood that did that to him." Insecurity prickles, enflamed by the hormones that inspire exaggeration- if it was a matter of blood, she was already doomed. She'd just be her mother soon enough, would degrade into cruelty and loneliness. Her nose scrunches, lips pulled back in a defensive snarl, "Do you think I'm just like her too then?"

Even in death she'd only ever pitied her mother.. wished for her to let go of her grief and be happy. To embrace the success her children had found in other arms, under the care of more than just her exhausted paws. It had been for nothing... she'd died angry. Now she was left to coax trust out of her younger siblings... to offer them compassion that few others gave. "Maybe it has nothing to do with blood... Maybe ThunderClan's horrible attitude is the problem. And you're letting it take you too."

Her tail whips with aggravation, hiding a far louder fear that bounces off the confines of her head. How quickly would he turn her kittens into threats if she were honest? Or would she become the monster, like Stormywing? Stormywing who spent moons hiding and lying and grinning and bearing her pain in silence. Was there no sympathy for that... a mother bereft of her children?

please dont leave me ➺ in the dark

• DOEPATH
  fifteen month old warrior of thunderclan
  she/her fawn sepia with low white and yellow eyes

 

[GENTLESTORM]

༄.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — The to-be mother responds that the kittens are simply active and a part of him wishes to ask if she had thought of any names, any idea how they would look like, and if she'd allow them to be watched by him whenever she and Sunshinespot needed to stretch out their legs but... instead, he bites his tongue and tastes the metal that bleeds into his mouth wanting not to argue especially with her of all cats, not when she meant so much to him, and how he cared deeply for her that the stars themselves would frown at him for the silenced thoughts within his mind. "As expected... you aren't far... from kitting..." He mumbles trying not to show the blood that rests in his jaws and blinks at her in a softer regard than he had for Stormywing just moments ago but it subsides when she continues to speak.

"Who are you to judge her? Isn't that the whole point of Starclan?" She says to him as a her expression shifts to that of a disappointed glare and his ears twitch back as the frown on his maw only grows. His eyebrows knit together though she isn't entirely wrong in what she says, he might be the mouthpiece of Starclan and recieve their signs or warnings but who is he to condemn Stormywing for her codebreaking? Does he believe himself to be that close to Silverpelt itself that he could damn anyone who wrongs their clan or makes a simple mistake? He thinks about Wrathpaw who he had shouted at about how Starclan would condemn him for the acts he committed against Thunderclan yet... Whose he to cast that judgement? "It isn't right... it was selfish..." Gentlestorm tries to say with a shake of his head as he swallows and adds on, "Stormywing... she's been with... the clan... long enough... to know better." This is the truth... Why couldn't she see that?

The older tom tries not to flinch at her sharp words but he isn't able to stop himself from doing so as she continues and it begins to make his head swim in that thick tar once more like his near death. Is he the blind one? No... no, he couldn't be. He's about to say something once more until she snarls defensively at him "Do you think I'm like her too then?" He's taken back for a heartbeat trying to think of which her that Doepath talks about, his mind spinning until he can realizes that it's Baying Hound that the fawn-like molly is talking about and he swallows down a lump in his throat being quick to argue "No... no... you are... nothing like her... you will never be her... you're you..." He pauses feeling his throat tighten with emotion and his head tilts to the side only to lower itself a bit, "Sweetpea... you aren't her... believe me..." The nickname that he uses from her slips from his bleeding tongue and he can feel his heart being to ache terribly as if someone's squeezing it while digging their claws into the beating organ.

"Maybe it has nothing to do with blood... Maybe Thunderclan's horrible attitude is the problem. And you're letting it take you too."

He falls silent as she mulls over her words and thinks about the several times that he's heard snide remarks that some of his clanmates would make near the Skyclan border whenever he was placed on one of them. He thinks about the unkind words that he directed towards both Stormywing and Thundergleam enough that it causes him to bite on his own tongue further, he had attacked the both of them out of rage and fear of Doepath and Sunshinespot not getting enough to eat during leaf-bare. Small flashes of Leopardtongue in the back of his mind and his throat tightens once more as a hoarse wheeze leaves him, his anger wishing to return to tell her this is for her but... Doepath wouldn't accept that not when she seemed to empathesize with the grey molly that broke the code.

"I'm... I'm not..." His hoarse whisper slips from his jaws as he thinks about the hatred Moonwhisper held towards her own kin especially those residing within Skyclan, how she rejected them and how Skyclaw stood by her morals... He absorbed the poison that dripped from the venomous fangs of Moonwhisper and Raccoonstripe, the two of them always treating their neighbors poorly. It wasn't until the death of Little Wolf's daughter that Skyclaw lost his own mind and there was only right way, that meant expelling the kittypet blooded from their home, and killing Howlingstar. It's a whirlwind of memories that knocks the breath out of Gentlestorm and he can feel the scars on his body beginning to burn as if they were reopened in that moment, a snowy dipped paw pressing against his chest where the very scar that could've killed him causes him the most pain.

"... I'm not... like... them..." The heavily scarred sepia wheezes as he begins to lower his body to the ground until he's the same level as Doepath and shakes his head, he struggles to swallow for a heartbeat and a shaky breath rattles from his maw, "I'm s... sorry..." Unspoken words withheld by his throat: I don't want to fight anymore... Would he be the cause of someone turning out to be like Skyclaw if he's just as prickly as the rest of his clanmates? He doesn't want to be, no, no, he couldn't be. And yet, in the back of his mind, he thinks of Stormywing's halfclan kittens realizing that they aren't fullblooded Riverclanners... How would they react? How would they take to the news and how'd this effect them? He doesn't know and frankly, he wishes not to know or cares for those residing within the river dwelling clan after their quick betrayal.

"I was just... so... angry... and fearful... I don't want... you... or Sunshinespot... to starve... to..." ... die... He swallows the last word like a bitter herb and his eyes focus onto his large paws not wishing to meet the gaze of Doepath, its a fear that begins to eat at his mind. He couldn't imagine a world without Little Wolf but he had to live throughout that Hell presented to him when the eagle had torn into her until the mountain top was painted crimson.... To imagine a world without Hopepaw, Orangepaw, and Doepath. He doesn't even want to think of such a reality and yet, his paranoia shoves it to the forefront of his mind. "I nearly... lost... you... I can't... not again..." It's a quiet whisper as another shaky breath slips from him, he isn't strong enough for that potential loss.... not now or ever.

MORNING & EVENING, I FELT LIKE I WAS GRIEVING ᨒᨒᨒ UNTIL I SAID FUCK YOU

• ooc —

• 

  MEDICINE CAT KNOWLEDGE;
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ FLESH WOUNDS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ INFECTIONS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧ ACHES & PAINS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧ ILLNESS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧ BREATHING ISSUES
  — ✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ TRAVELING HERBS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ BROKEN BONES
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ KITTING
  — ✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧ POISONS
• 
  ✦ a longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white and copper eyes, several scars cover his body from previous fights that he somehow survived
  ✦ gentlestorm is rarely ever a warm individual and friendly to those who he meets, he proceeds with more caution and he's less likely to trust any strangers that come from outside of thunderclan. he tends to be jumpy if suddenly approached or flinches away from swift movement with his claws unsheathed when it occurs, he apologizes for it. his kindness reserved only for those closest to him otherwise anyone else can expect the cold shoulder from the old tom
  ✦ 61 moons old; ages the 27th every month
  ✦ widowed mate of little wolf ; currently interested in no one
  ✦ semi-difficult to befriend/interact with ; quick to strike/attack first if he feels threatened ; peaceful powerplay allowed but proceed with caution
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, attacking

​

 

[doepath ࿔]

The reminder spawns its own powerful wave of nausea, the ever-present anxiety about what comes next and how unknown it is rearing its ugly head. All she's familiar with are screams... and then quiet... and the hope that quiet is a good one and not something more foreboding. She ignores the topic, steers so clearly away from it that it hardly goes acknowledged he said it at all. Don't think about it... it isn't a problem until it's already happening... and then there's nothing to be done at that point.

Selfish is an awful thing to call love. But it might be the only reference someone so jaded by his losses can connect to. He makes mention of Little Wolf... over and over again... wonders after what piece she'd missing that this she-cat spins as a primary example of his mind. The embers of a love lost go unrecognized by someone too young to have witnessed it. She must just be a friend he mourned.. one he'd watched stumble down this path once and pitied. I don't want pity, her protest ripples down her spine. "To know better?" She blinks to hide how badly she wants to roll her eyes- what was anyone supposed to know about emotions like those? How to navigate them and nip them when things got convoluted... when lines grew blurred? Without experience, it was just like racing down the forest paths with your eyes closed- you were bound to run into a tree sometimes, even if there were the lucky few that didn't.

"Who even made these codes? A tiny handful of leaders who decide for everyone else that their loves and their lives aren't something they deserve control over?" Maybe it is the rogue in her... maybe it has always been a struggle of respect when she found the foundations themselves to be stupid. "Stormywing only knew she loved that RiverClanner. What else is there to know? Don't think she's suffered enough? Like she didn't already figure it out? She's not stupid Gentlestorm. And what about you? You'll sit here and heal the body but sink your teeth into the heart? Go on then- bite," she holds out a paw, pads raised towards the stars as if to sanctify the sacrifice or give it some sort of heavenly meaning (there is no meaning to it). "If that's all you want to do then I accept."

Why? Am I hoping he will so he can't bite later? To get it over with now so I can say I already tried to tell him?

If she has more to say, for once her tongue stills from saying it, swept up in the tornado of her bonds, her bloodline, what is implied by each chisel gouged into the stone- what face would it reveal? Her coat bristles with the accusation she's laid out before him, a dare almost, entreating him to admit the truth. She knows it to be the truth, she's always just been a refraction of her mother and he was so good at hiding it until now. That must be it! It had been a carefully woven ruse... or an attempt to sand down the sharpest edges he could see, knowing she couldn't see them herself. A piece of cloth draped over her eyes- maybe the goal had never been to heal her at all? Panic runs rampant, a dog chasing its tail with more and more ferocity; a bottomless pit of possibility and paranoia and despair.

"Sweetpea..."

It cuts through the storm like a warm breeze... the overwhelming thrumming of her heartbeat in her ears quiets to levels not so deafening and pupils grow round with recognition. It's Gentlestorm... He is not a shrouded enemy lurking behind her searching for a moment to shove her into a tarmac path. The heat of flame is suffocated in that one gesture- and almost startled by the state of herself, Doepath's gaze snaps towards the ground, searching it frantically for the her she was most familiar with- when had it gotten away from her? And why so suddenly?

Her claws do not sit in crimson but they feel as if they've drawn blood nonetheless, a hoarse whisper of protest being the indication of a wound inflicted. The queen untangles herself to stand, practically tripping over herself to make her way to the medicine cat where he crouched in a pained grovel. "Gentlestorm," Her tone is sharper than she expected, jaw clamping shut as if to trap whatever harshness yet lingered, eager to spill. Her nose presses towards his cheek, tail still flicking and twitching in agitation. "We... are fine." They wanted for nothing... even with all the danger that whorled around them, the clan kept them safe... kept them fed... kept them comfortable, even if they grumbled and growled about it the whole time.

The hardly breathed confession must even startle her kits, the way they roll suddenly and flare out their legs at her ribs. A sharp exhale is all the acknowledgement she gives their antsy movements, fixating on the flickering memory of bright lights... overwhelming dark... and then silence. Would it have been so bad...? It would've been quick, at least... rather than a death on the battle field, drawn out and torturous. "I'm fine." Ignoring the lack of appetite... the constant, unquenchable thirst, the bodily discomfort... Probably nothing to be concerned about.

please dont leave me ➺ in the dark

• DOEPATH
  fifteen month old warrior of thunderclan
  she/her fawn sepia with low white and yellow eyes

 

[GENTLESTORM]

༄.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — She doesn't seem to understand even after he tries to explain to her those countless times and she speaks once more "She... she loved him a lot... but the pain of losing her own child... it was far too great... that code... was put to avoid that pain... so no one else suffers it..." Gentlestorm tries to counter despite the way that those words weighed uncomfortably on his tongue about mentioning how his late mate had loved Blazestar so much, she's sure that love or even friendship that she had with the Skyclan leader surely would've been her death had it not been the eagle. Perhaps, she would've died for him if Gentlestorm risks tiptoeing near death but he doesn't linger on the thought or he isn't allowed to when Doepath's words become harsher and her paw extends towards him.

For a heartbeat, he thinks she'll lash out at him but a blink of his eyes tells him otherwise as her pads face towards Silverpelt itself and he forgets how to breathe in that moment. "And what about you? You'll sit here and heal the body but sink your teeth into the heart? Go on then- bite." Suddenly, there's an uncomfortable ringing in his ears and he wishes that she had struck him instead with unsheathed claws than the words that bleed into his flesh and pierce it instead. His throat tightens as he finds himself speechless unsure of what he should say when his mind goes blank, the hound's twists with hurt and shock that she would suggest such a thing.

To bite and cause her to bleed when all he has done in all his life is make sure that she doesn't bleed herself dry... so that his worst nightmare wouldn't become true and he can feel his jaws clench to the point where he feels that his teeth will break from the force. He gnaws on his cheek feeling the blood slip onto his tongue and the silver tom lowers his gaze away from her not able to hold eye contact with her, he doesn't know if he could again if she believes him to be such a hateful creature. Is he just as bad as Berryheart's former mentor that had drove Little Wolf away to the point where she had gone to Skyclan instead to birth her kittens because she had felt unsafe?

It's poison that seeps into his mind and tastes acidic on his tongue, the medicine cat's ears lower themselves to his skull still unable to speak even as he's laying on the ground painfully. Doepath draws near to where he's crouched and her words fall on deaf ears, its only when her nose gets closer to his cheek that the massive tom flinches away from her touch as if the brief contact would trigger something inside of him and she'd end up hurt. She doesn't trust him and thinks him an unlovable thing, it makes him want to let out a pained chuckle but he refrains from doing so, he swallows a pitiful whimper just so she wouldn't see that it hurt.

That even if she hadn't struck him with her claws... she had succeeded in making him bleed. The bleating fawn had sunken her teeth into his own heart where he had foolishly left it out in the open and vulnerable to her, for deer did not possess teeth like wolves did. He's an idiot. An old fool that had not batted a single eye at the potential of the small creature teething before him. The young doe had picked up the mannerisms of the wolf and it hurt to be a victim of her jaws.

"I'd never... bite you... little fawn..." It speaks as its voice threatens to crack from the emotion seizing its throat and the scarred brute swallows bitterly still unable to look her in the eyes, "I wish... you had... brandished... your claws at me instead..." It whimpers pitifully as the pale creature pushes itself to its paws and away from her only to continue, "What... you said... has hurt me more than... any wound... I've ever recieved..." This is truthful and it casts a brief glance at the scars that litter his body caused by Darkthistle and Skyclaw, the silvery tom cannot force himself to meet her gaze and instead without another word, the wounded creature limps out from his den so that he could slip into the forest.

He could find an empty hollow for just tonight and withstand the cold, Gentlestorm doesn't spare anyone a glance as he passes through the mouth of camp. They'd simply think he's going out for herbs and they could believe that if it allowed them to sleep without the risk of a wolf amongst them.

MORNING & EVENING, I FELT LIKE I WAS GRIEVING ᨒᨒᨒ UNTIL I SAID FUCK YOU

• ooc — out </3 im not crying you're crying... totally didn't listen to the line from 21 pilots ;_;

• 

  MEDICINE CAT KNOWLEDGE;
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ FLESH WOUNDS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ INFECTIONS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧ ACHES & PAINS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧ ILLNESS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧ BREATHING ISSUES
  — ✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ TRAVELING HERBS
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧ BROKEN BONES
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ KITTING
  — ✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧ POISONS
• 
  ✦ a longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white and copper eyes, several scars cover his body from previous fights that he somehow survived
  ✦ gentlestorm is rarely ever a warm individual and friendly to those who he meets, he proceeds with more caution and he's less likely to trust any strangers that come from outside of thunderclan. he tends to be jumpy if suddenly approached or flinches away from swift movement with his claws unsheathed when it occurs, he apologizes for it. his kindness reserved only for those closest to him otherwise anyone else can expect the cold shoulder from the old tom
  ✦ 61 moons old; ages the 27th every month
  ✦ widowed mate of little wolf ; currently interested in no one
  ✦ semi-difficult to befriend/interact with ; quick to strike/attack first if he feels threatened ; peaceful powerplay allowed but proceed with caution
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, attacking

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