pafp goodbye to yesterday

[dovethroat.]

If the half-joking, half-wounded feeling that Ravensong viewed him as unintelligent, fit for menial work, an easy person to shoo away to do some stupid little job. Maybe if he was trying to spin it in a more positive way, he would have focused on how strong Ravensong must have thought he was—Dovethroat was getting pretty big, especially when he compared himself to Ravensong—but anyone with half a brain knew that expecting Dovethroat to give Ravensong graciousness, even in his thoughts, was like waiting for Godot. But he was still too pointlessly and in-denial-invested with even the idea of spending more time with him. And so when Ravensong asked him to go fetch herbs, he found himself reflexively saying sure, why not, without so much as a second thought. No rumination whatsoever.

Of course, that meant Dovethroat grumbled and cursed at himself for much of the time he spent outside of camp, fishing for a particular scent in the bushes and following Ravensong's directions and details on appearance, aroma, whatever it was, to a T. Of course, he had gotten the right thing. He was not stupid. He tried to tell himself that, but he was, in fact, very worried that he had gotten the wrong thing and had as such spent an absurd amount of time and brought back a fair few bundles of things that were probably not what he was looking for. In his anxiety, he had riled himself up to quite a state of agitation; it was as if he was asking to be upset. Taking home so much pointless luggage also meant that his jaw was aching from keeping it secure, and the grumbling only continued.

As he arrived back at camp and trudged his way to the medicine den with a gigantic bundle of mostly-correct herbs (the few that were gotten out of anxiety due to their almost-there scent, almost-there appearance were sprinkled in between), Dovethroat let out a great dramatic huff and let it fall to the ground; half on top of another pile and certainly not in the right place.

// wait for @RAVENSONG

[⋆]​

​

 

[RAVENSONG]

Dovethroat was the largest softpaw with a secret bitter heart that Ravensong had ever known. The tension between the two of them was palpable to any other cat in the Clan—but it had been known that when they were both warrior apprentices they had been close friends. Ravensong could sense that they could never return to the state they once knew each other in, but the fact was that he was tired.

Exhausted of the weight of yellow cough on his shoulders, the pettiness with Dovethroat seemed the least of his worries, and his scathing words slid away from Ravensong like snakeskin, revealing a tenderer side.

He had not meant to make Dovethroat feel bad when he asked him to fetch herbs—even if he had been snappish with his command. Ravensong could barely leave his den, and only did so after dosing himself in river-water in an attempt to cleanse himself of sickness. He did not know how effective it was, but he had held up long enough.

"Do you have any respect?" Ravensong snapped, seeing the tom haphazardly drop his delivery onto a pile of herbs Ravensong had just sorted. "Did I upset you?" No venom laced his words, but he was curt. He would not accept half-measures from anyone. Especially Dovethroat.

☾₊ ⊹ темная ночь — dark is the night

•  
• 
  RAVENSONG of RIVERCLAN
  — LH BLACK POLYDACTYL MALE (CARRYING CINNAMON, DILUTE) a tall, slender creature with pitch-black feathery fur, large ears, and a sharply angled skull held up in an aloof manner. smells of dried herb, speaks with a low and rumbly accent and walks with an elegant slinking gait.
  
  — born in twolegplace and orphaned at a young age, he joined riverclan at its inception and began training as a drypaw warrior known for a bitter temperment until beesong made him his medicine cat apprentice. after his mentor's untimely death, he had been named ravensong at the moonstone, young heart revitalized with anger and guilt. he is a somber and thorough medicine cat that guards every word spoken in the confines of his den.
  
  — secretly loves "the stars but not so much what inhabits them"
  — openly suffers from chronic migraines
  — single, but "it's complicated"

​

 

[dovethroat.]

It was almost some sort of cosmic joke, the way they orbited around each other like their lives could not exist if they broke form. There was questioning if they would ever get back to being friends, and not whatever this was. He was tired, too, and at this point it was hurt feelings, wounded ego—a sort of open cut that could not get too close to anything or else it would sting. And yet he yearned for it to never close, as if the pain was the only thing reminding him of some familiarity, some joy. Their interactions certainly still existed in the realm of being belligerent, but an astute eye could notice that the fire was not quite there anymore.

Maybe Dovethroat secretly yearned for that near-impossible return to normalcy.

His joints aching, Dovethroat cast a tired look in Ravensong's direction. "I..." he panted, squinting as if he was searching for a comeback. It took a while for one to come. "D-Don't y-you get... enough r-respect from the ghosts... wh-who speak to you?" His breathing was belabored.

He harrumphed. "I... I d-don't know where a-any of this goes," he grumbled. "I don't get t-to; y-you don't ever tell me. I picked up s-so much stuff, my j-jaw hurts." He whined, petulant.

[⋆]​

​

 

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

With the plague hanging over their heads, Snakeblink finds himself worrying more about Ravensong. Not only would they be utterly lost without his care, the medicine cat is quite young and isolated by the nature of his duty. Someone should check up on him to make sure he doesn’t need anything, and it might as well be Snakeblink.

The sound of voices taunt with tensions coming from the medicine den as he enters it makes him reconsider. He’s heard this before: Ravensong and Dovethroat have obviously been at odds for a few moons now, all the while being often seen together — it has led to many opportunity to overhear, if not the content of their arguments, at least the volume of them. He would rather not get in the way of one of their spats. Unfortunately it’s a bit late for that: he is already well into the den, and there’s little chance they missed his arrival.

His front paw lifts in an aborted step back as he freezes in the entrance, an eel caught in his mouth. He likes to bring something to eat when he passes by the medicine den, in case anyone quarantined inside has not eaten today, but now he berates himself for it. Why an eel of all things? It’s awkward; he’s absolutely going to trip over it if he tries to back out. ”I am interrupting,” he says inanely, enunciating carefully around his mouthful of offering. ”Should I leave this here…?”
​

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• 
  
• — Snakeblink • he / him. 43 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

​

​

 

[PIKESPLASH]

( tags ) Even the sick needed food and he would be lying to say he also wanted to have a glance at Otterpaw and Lichentail who were in Ravensong's care for the time being. It's hard not to be worried about a specific person, considering many of the cats who he cares about are ill and he wishes for all of them to have a speedy recovery and for Ravensong himself to not be as overworked. I think this is the first time we've had so many cats in the medicine cat den. Maybe? He notices the familiar form of his friend Snakeblink. A smile makes its way to his lips as much as it can considering he is bringing back a rabbit. Perhaps it's odd for a cat to find so much joy in seeing Snakeblink. Considering his friend has a history of saying words that offend. However, he knows that Snakeblink is kind as the lead warrior often visits the medicine cat den.

It's only when he draws near that he picks up the sound of tension. Yikes. Whatever Dove and Raven got going on is not great. How many moons has it been? It's no secret that there's something going on between the pair, yet he's not going to delve into it given how both he and Snakeblink were reprimanded by clanmates for gossiping. Although, he would argue that they were just curious. There was no real harm and now that he thinks about it. He hasn't answered who he was interested in, but that just seems like a bad time to bring it up when more serious things are going on. Behind Snakeblink he can't help but feel as if both he and Snakeblink were kits watching their parents have a spat.

Cats... This is awkward. He decides to follow Snakeblink's lead, nearly dropping the rabbit on the spot when Snakeblink says matter of factly that he is interrupting. SNAKE! YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT! SHIT NOW THEY'RE GONNA LOOK AT US! He swears his face is on fire at Snakeblink's bluntness. Seeing as though their presence is already known he answers carefully around his own offering, "U-uhm... Maybe we should?" He would take a step forward and place the rabbit for Ravensong to collect it when... Whenever this is done. Whatever you and Dove got going on.

Taking a step back he nudges Snakeblink lightly to do the same so they can be on their way, "We can back later, right? Let's go Snake, I wanna talk with you, it's been awhile. Oh! If you don't mind? With how everything is... Busy. I don't know if you prefer to rest."​

 

[RAVENSONG]

"I do not mean respect for me!" Ravensong snapped, though in hindsight, he probably wishes he had not said that specific string of words that could be construed in ways he would not like. "Respect for these!" His paw gestures down fiercely at the bundles of herbs below them in their neat, sorted piles in the hollows Ravensong dug out for them to keep them dry and safe.

The fur is still risen over his spine and Dovethroat's petulant whining does little to soothe him outwardly, though his heart aches inwardly at the situation they have increasingly found each other in. "I know you have lost that respect for me long ago." He adds, large angular ears folding back against his skull cooly. He sweeps up the messed herbs, the biting demand to shoo Dovethroat away only moments away from being birthed onto his tongue when, suddenly—

Snakeblink!

Ravensong has enough shame to feel his burn underneath his pelt and he crossly glares at Dovethroat before nodding curtly. "You weren't... interrupting. Do—" Pikesplash is next to enter and suddenly Ravensong feels overwhelmed with the amount of prey he is being gifted. It feels childish to argue with Dovethroat in front of others—he has never noticed other cats walking in on them before and he finally comes around to how silly this looks for all of them.

"Dovethroat was just about to help me sort herbs." His feathery tail whisks over the ground. "I apologize... for losing my temper at you. Please... I can make it up to you." The first apology he has spoken to the ticked tabby, and it feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. He surprises himself, and glances at Dovethroat with a strangled emotion he cannot place.

☾₊ ⊹ темная ночь — dark is the night

•  
• 
  RAVENSONG of RIVERCLAN
  — LH BLACK POLYDACTYL MALE (CARRYING CINNAMON, DILUTE) a tall, slender creature with pitch-black feathery fur, large ears, and a sharply angled skull held up in an aloof manner. smells of dried herb, speaks with a low and rumbly accent and walks with an elegant slinking gait.
  
  — born in twolegplace and orphaned at a young age, he joined riverclan at its inception and began training as a drypaw warrior known for a bitter temperment until beesong made him his medicine cat apprentice. after his mentor's untimely death, he had been named ravensong at the moonstone, young heart revitalized with anger and guilt. he is a somber and thorough medicine cat that guards every word spoken in the confines of his den.
  
  — secretly loves "the stars but not so much what inhabits them"
  — openly suffers from chronic migraines
  — single, but "it's complicated"

​

 

[dovethroat.]

Dovethroat reared back, his eyes flashing for only a moment. "H-How was I meant to kn-know that?" He snaps back, immediately regretting it just as much as Ravensong began to say so. it was true, Ravensong refused to ever divulge the more intimate details onto him. "I—y-you don't have to s-say it l-like that, I was m-making—whatever, I," and their arguing continues, just as it always seems to. It's almost as if they are each other's only ways out, the only people to which they can have no barriers and expectations and conceit. That was probably part of what made it so intoxicating.

The color would drain from his face if such was possible as his attention snaps back to Snakeblink. And then to Pikesplash. Ravensong notices before he does, but Dovethroat perhaps notices even more dramatically. "N-No! I—it's—we—it's n-nothing, we were—I—he—" he manages much less coherent of a sentence than Ravensong does, and ultimately gives up to leave the honor of excuses to the medicine cat. A bit of bile threatens to rise in his throat.

He looks back over to Ravensong, and the look in his eyes renders him mostly speechless. It's very long until Dovethroat probably responds, and the response is a stupid-sounding "...huh?"

[⋆]​

​

 

[Snakeblink]

MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————​

Well — at least they’re not yelling anymore. It’s a nice change of pace: Snakeblink half expected Ravensong’s ire to turn on them next. Slowly, he lowers his catch to the ground, eyes trained on the medicine cat as he struggles through an explanation. But as soon as his attention is on the two interlopers, it’s quickly drawn back to Dovethroat. The two young toms stare at each other like they’re the only cats in the world: Pikesplash and him might as well not be in the den.

Still not looking away from the pair, he lets himself be steered away by Pikesplash, walking backward with an ease rarely displayed by the tabby while walking the right way. Clearly, the appeal of prime gossip has him drawing from as of yet unknown wells of grace and dexterity.

To his fellow warrior he says, sotto voce: ”Do you know, I don’t believe they would notice whether we left or stayed...”​

——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely ​

ooc. information.

• 
  
• — Snakeblink • he / him. 43 ☾, riverclan warrior
  — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
  — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
  
  
  

​

​

 

[dovethroat.]

Dovethroat quickly grows flustered, and he begins to hear all the bits and pieces of whispers that seem to be emanating from the other side of the den—he certainly cannot make what, exactly, is being said, and he also feels like there are so many more than just two people. Feeling huis heart begin to flutter, he bites down and squares his jaw, staring at the herbs and then back at Ravensong. And then at Snakeblink.

"I—" he opens his mouth, almost protesting but ultimately deciding against it as he grows overwhelmed. "I... I h-have—I—I l-left, uh, I left s-some herbs behind n-near the c-camp border—I—I have to," Dovethroat is wheezing in spite of very little physical exertion. "I am g-going to go g-grab them."

He is lying, but that doesn't matter. He awkwardly shuffles out of the den, leaving for the imaginary herbs he imaginarily left behind.

[⋆]​

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