give me the shivers l bonejaw


good fences, good neighbors
Sep 10, 2022

I've no time for confession
Not being able to sleep well is hellish for someone who needs so, so much beauty sleep like Wolverinefang. His paw is killing him and his jaw is sore from licking at his scorched pads ad nauseum. He has tried not to show it too much in camp because of all of the more important things going on lately but at night when he's alone it becomes too hard to distract himself from. The bulky tom is out for the third time, walking around the territory in a sleepy lull and visibly limping by the time he makes it a cool puddle on the outskirts. Wolve sits at the water's edge and dips his paw inside, sighing at the cooling effect like it's the best thing he's felt in ages.

His eyes close against the soggy scent of earth and soot nearby, slicing tiny cuts along the edges of his nostrils and he crinkles his nose. His paw stings in conjunction, bringing back memories of that terrible night. His frantic fleeing from the fire and thinking he was something oh so brave to help his clanmates until Briarstar lost her nine on the road and all of his courage was gut punched out of him in instant. He thought that he had everything together but he's been disgruntled ever since and only playing his usual routine because it's what he's used to. He wasn't even that close to Briarstar but everything just feels different now for some reason now that she's gone and he guesses that's because it is in the most literal sense. Pitchstar is leader now, the territory is wounded, and leaf-fall is fast upon them.

Wolverinefang pulls his paw from the water and flexes his toes only to hiss lightly and dunk them back in. "Ouch..." The tom opens his eyes back up and stares off into the waterlogged foliage mixed with jagged dead trees in the distance. His usually bright eyes look lost, empty. It's the way he feels, he supposes. Purposeless. What did he fight so hard for when he was a kit? He can't even remember now yet he surely couldn't have been as listless as he is now. The tom scoffs. He's quick to sweep that raw honesty under the rug.

He's just overthinking everything that's happened considering he's never experienced it before. Yeah, that's it. Once this paw heals itself up he can stop having that physical reminder and the forest will heal itself up too so then he won't even have to see it unless he looks too close. He'll get back to his goal: finding a mate and settling down. What more could a guy want out of life. With renewed vigor he pulls out his paw, takes two steps forward, then immediately skitters back and slams his paw back in. "Okay okay... a little while longer won't hurt." Unless of course it goes bad and he ends up with a nub instead of a paw or it outright takes him out entirely. Wolve's ears go back and he gulps, trying not to even consider that but now it's at the back of his mind. Nagging.

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Truly ever since she saw and heard her sister's last breath. Her last words she has been contemplating giving up this facade. This charade that Starclan forced her into. Proclaiming it already she doesn't really know what else she can do. It really isn't like the clan is suddenly helpless without her and before Starclan even came along they had been doing just fine. Just dandy till they showed up. The black and satin tainted molly is so torn between many things but she knows for certain that she can not trust Starclan. Despite their dreams that they have woven her to have it only causes harm. Only brings ruin. From the Great Battle that took many lives and stole territory from Shadowclan. To them being left with little prey, to the fire that scorched their home and now her sister who was stripped of all her supposed lives. A grimace plays over her muzzle as she steps along the marshy grounds.

Her eyes roam the tall pines that dot the landscape, her nose twitching as she attempts to pick up some semblence of prey. But it isn't that she finds leading her. But the smell of another cat, one of her clanmates.
She puts in effort enough to talk to them in camp but she supposes since she is close by that she can at least check and see if their hunt is going well or not. Slipping around a tree she catches sight of the tom resting his paw in water. He dabs it in before submerging and when he tries to leave he ends up rushing back to the water. Her frown is clear as she assesses the situation. She wishes that it isn't up to her to check it out but alas she moves forward.

Gaze pensive she allows black lips to part, almost sounding irritable. "So why didn't you show me your paw before? What did you do to it?" Her gaze is soul piercing as she stares at it and then to the water before making a tsking noise in her throat. "You burned it, correct? You shouldn't act like a kit you know. I'm not going to bite your head off." At least not on purpose.

I've no time for confession
The sudden voice makes Wolverine's fur stand on edge and he quickly yanks his paw back, pressing it to his belly as he snaps his head to the side to see who he dreaded it would be. Of all people to find him right now, why'd it have to be her? The medic of all cats. "It's nothing, Bonejaw," he says in a quick speaking voice, lacking any confidence in that statement as it seems he realizes it's too late to try to hide it anymore. His expression falls and Wolverinefang huffs, blowing his scruffy head fur off to the side like a moody teen. He looks surprised then, that she can already tell it's burned. That gives her just... a litle more credence, he supposed. Wolve can't meet her piercing eyes and yet he still has the gall to chortle, "You think I'm scared of you? Hah!"

Realizing how that sounds, he cringes some and then adds in a softer, more defeated tone. "What I mean is..." He sighs heavy from his chest. "Yeah. I burned it during the fire. I stepped on some wood, I think. I don't know. I was running from it." Some things about that night are a blur and at parts, he's grateful for that. Wolverine holds his injured paw out, forcing his toes not to twitch from the pain eating at his flesh. "There was more... important things going on." He doesn't want to say it directly though he's sure it's always on the other's mind. Even being alone most of his youth, he can figure it must be unbearable to lose a sibling. Bonejaw doesn't seem the tearful type but he can barely talk to a woman right, much less do the entirely new task of trying to comfort one.

Pulling his paw back, he returns it to the water with an exaggerated, ""Ahhh~. Well don't you worry about me, I've got it all covered." Even worse than proving himself wrong about a medic being useful, she'd be close to him and that's something out of his dreams and nightmares. A woman that cares about him enough to tenderly tend his paw even after he's teased her! Ignoring the fact that it's her job entirely, because his airheaded feelings don't factor things like that in.

Well, he wouldn't be able to help himself but to fall in love at the spot! He almost laughs at himself for such a ridiculous thought. Imagine falling for such an intimidating, cold woman. He's not ready to sign up for a life of heartache just yet, he's sure of that.
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