private good for you ;; dovepaw

[hyacinthbreath]

@dovepaw.

As much as she'd like to say the fight went well, Hyacinthbreath couldn't say the same for her reputation as of right now. Her paws drag through the mud as she looks for her newfound apprentice, injured mildly from the battle that was had. Cobwebs and herbs drape her throat from where Silver had wounded her, though it looks messy from Hyacinth moving around so much. She couldn't seem to get comfortable, with the lingering stares of her clanmates around her.

Must we kill to prove our loyalties? She thinks to herself, wondering if she would have to live this life forever. Killing, killing, killing- how did someone not grow tired of such a terrible thing? She never thought herself a pacifist, but she never thought herself a mass murderer either.

She couldn't live with herself if that became the case.

Her head pokes into the medicine cat's den, not seeing Beesong there- perhaps he was out training Ravenpaw. However, the brown tabby was there in his nest, obviously resting. "Dovepaw," Hyacinthbreath meows in greeting, though even she thinks that her paranoia is getting the best of her. "Are you healing okay? Let's take a walk, if you can move." ​

RIVERCLAN WARRIOR ✦ WARTORN SOLDIER ✦ 54 MOONS ✦ TAGS​

 

[dovethroat.]

Objectively, perhaps, the fight had gone quite well. Dovepaw knew he would be lying if he said that he, himself, had done spectacular, but he could skirt that issue of truth-telling by changing the scope of his statement. And in the broad strokes, the group he had been a part of had done quite well. Dovepaw, however, had let his nerves and morals get in the way of a good fight—just as he knew, deep down, they always would. He had gone out of his way not to inflict any permanent harm, to avoid anything even potentially serious, and it had bit him in the ass. His wariness had gotten him a bit of a nasty injury in the process.

One that, very regrettably, involved having Ravenpaw tend to him.

Hyacinthbreath's words scare him out of his wallowing. Bumbling out a surprised gasp, Dovepaw turns his head to look over at Hyacinthbreath. "I-I, uh, y-yeah—yeah, I c-can... I can m-move," he stammers. It was not as if he had been hurt that bad. It was bad, but it was a while ago. And it wasn't that bad. He told himself.

Stretching himself delicately to his feet, Dovepaw slowly makes his way over to his mentor. "Uh, d-do—do y-you need s-something?"

[⋆]​

​