- Apr 27, 2023
- 127
- 16
- 18
he was alive.
he should've been dead. with the layers and layers of poultices and webs that covered his pelt- attempts to hold him together. he didn't feel so together though. missing his sight, but it didn't stay at just that. he felt like he was missing his humility.
he should've been able to hold his ground well, a seasoned warrior. but as his one eye lay across the ground of the medicine den, he felt regret for not digging claws deeper, not fighting harder. but they were snakes, he pieced together. dirty shots he didn't expect. but what should milkthorn have expected from rogues.
the pale rosetted warrior would sigh, before one eye flickered to a hesitant shadow. as the other pulled forward, he relaxed a moment. But he would not raise his head to reveal the cobwebs on the forefront of his neck, unfortunately he could not hide the coverings of his stomach- laying on it unbearable as he left it to be revealed to the world. his loss.
his disgrace.
he knew, underneath, he was being hard on himself. but he had done so much that was great, that to almost fall like this was a shame to him. especially so near leaf bare. but even then, he was using up Cottonsprigs precious herbs that were nearly to be scarce.
"vulturepaw," he greeted with a low rumble. "I am glad to see you." though his gaze did not meet the others, he knew the other well enough that he could only imagine the worry and fear the apprentice held. always a victim of the demons in his mind, milkthorn thought- a brief sadness to note that some so young had to deal with that. the fear.
"I hope you are not fretting over me too much," he rumbled, a teasing tone in the scarred warriors voice. but honestly, milkthorn hoped the other would understand what he meant- he hoped that vulturepaw was focusing on his training, on himself, finding the peace he needed. the scruffy warrior was fine, he would protest if he could- but it would be a lie.
@Vulturepaw