pafp hang on a little longer — passing out

[DUSKPOOL]

.anger makes you stupid —————————

————————— stupid gets you killed.

▵ ———————— ◮ ———————— ▵

THE OBSIDIAN-HUED MALE SHUFFLED FORWARD, bones creaking with the notion as he brushed through the undergrowth. His copper-molten optics scanned the dense pines with a flicker of annoyance, willowy tail swishing with an inaudible huff, chest rumbling. Why was he here? Hell if he knew. The obsidian-smoked brute wasn't even sure what he was doing other than the clear stumble, his body growing weaker as he dragged himself after Auburn with no audible complaints, but who said he couldn't complain in his mind? Damnit.

What was he doing, again? Auburn … Hunting. Youkai coughed, stumbling forward with a startled huff, molten copper hues blinking several times to get rid of the black dotting his vision.

What the—Youkai cursed, gritting his teeth. Don't you dare—He stumbled his way from an incoming bush before ceremonially collapsing in a heap of obsidian and ivory. When had he slept decently? Youkai couldn't answer that, knowing well enough he'd barely gotten sleep since he joined SkyClan which was some moons ago. It seems the lack of sleep finally caught up to the heavy brute who lay, sprawled out with the briefest wheezes that slipped past his parted maw.

Youkai wasn't sure what happened, already welcoming the darkness, passing out without a sound save for the heavy thump he was sure the other would hear. At least he'd get some sleep.

please wait until @Auburnflame responds ^^

thoughts speech​

​

​

 

[Auburnflame]

"It's a such a nice day for a hunt," He walks through the bits of foliage within the pine forest, a plumed tail flowing behind him in a rhythmic sway with his gait. "C'mon, Duskpool! Keep up. The Tall Pine isn't too far—I saw some Robin nests on the thicker boughs. Maybe we'll come across a few. Have you ever seen Robin eggs? They're such a pretty color. Like almost the color of the sky!" Auburnflame continues to ramble on, completely oblivious to Duskpool's lagging behind with each step. He doesn't notice the clumsiness of the larger tom who was clearly struggling to even function, doesn't quite necessarily even hear him because of his own spiel about the unique color of eggs and hopefully finding a succulent bird to sink his teeth into.
It's not till the duo had reached their destination that the patched tom had heard a weirdly heavy thump and rustling amongst the nettle. Auburnflame swings his helm nearly a whole 180 degrees, mint shaded hues widening in surprise and concern that his much darker counterpart was not behind him. "Dusk?" The warrior calls, back pedaling to retrace his steps with a dusted pink nose held higher in the air. He was here—he was close. Paws carry him in a hurried pace to back where he came, peering through the brush and calling out his name. There was no answer. No grunt or hefty sigh that usually parted over the tom's tongue in reply most of the time. He moves in closer through the elderberry, finally able to just barely make out the white splashes across his mouth and cheek, a stark contrast from the smokey coat that drapes his form. "Dusk? Duskpool!" His tone is drenched with immediate worry, near frantic that his clan mate was not moving and it his form was too dark to tell if he was breathing or not.
Auburnflame would shuffle in closer to him, pressing his lighter flank against his whilst placing a paw on his chest to detect any sign of a rise and fall to his chest. "Breathin', yes! Thank the Stars..." He breathed before attempting to shake the collapsed tom before him, attempting to rouse some type consciousness within him. "Wake up, my friend! C'mon. Don't make me have to yank 'yer big ass all the way home! Cause I will, but you're gonna owe me big time." He manages a chuckle, but it was dry and non-genuine, more so as a coping mechanism as relief washed over him like waves along the shoreline. Now he would wait to see if his friend would begin to stir, or if Auburnflame was going to have a rather—heavyweight journey ahead of him.
​

[ SETTING FIRE TO THE SKY ]​

 

[Orangestar]

"Dusk? Duskpool!"

Orangeblossom's ears flatten as Auburnflame's voice reaches them, and she takes a sharp turn towards the source of his voice. She abandons her walk in favour of her Clanmates ... though that's probably for the best - she'd been alone with her thoughts too long already, up to considering something so stupid as visiting Ashenclaw's twoleg house to see if he was there. If he was there, and was happy ... she doesn't know what she'd do.

She crests a ridge to find the two warriors, Auburnflame crouched over an unresponsive Duskpool (breathin', yes!), and, circling doubt banished for the time being, she frowns as she hauls herself up the rest of the way to join the two of them. She can't smell blood, or lingering fear, or a predator or twoleg ...

"What happened?" She demands, incredulous.

— info

•  
• 
  orangeblossom. tags.
  — she/her, skyclan deputy.
  — mentor to eveningpaw.
  — attack in #e08550. uses trees as an integral part of her fighting style.
  — mean enough to note that her thoughts don't reflect my opinions as a writer haha.
  — penned by mercibun; @ me in any official tabbytales discord for plots. :]
  — art by merc!<3
  

​

 

[SLATESNARL]

❪ TAGS ❫ — Had it finally happened? Had Auburnflame's aimless musings and exhaustive "adventures" finally put someone to sleep? Collapsing in the middle of the forest path probably wasn't the most convenient means of resting your head, but hey, at least it was a way of opting out of whatever treks the tortoiseshell forcibly dragged you on. Why hadn't Slate thought of that before? It was sheer genius, in his opinion.

The charcoal tom shows up not far behind Orangeblossom, stumbling upon the rather odd scene and giving a quirk of his brows. He notes that Auburnflame is related to the deputy and, with Ora being one of the few cats he doesn't wish to upset, Slate refrains from any comments that were too blunt. All he manages is a grumble, "Lucky bastard."

There's no blood or injuries as far as Slate can see and smell. Duskpool could have been severely dehydrated or something of that nature, or maybe he'd been prescribed some sort of questionable tincture from Dawnglare. Who knew. At least he was still breathing... for now.

Slate stepped forward, frowning and cocking his head at the sight of the collapsed tom. He raised a paw and aimed to smack it across Duskpool's head; a minor bruise, at most. Something to try and rouse the guy from his little slumber. "Hey!" He shouts down toward the older warrior's ears. They'd might as well try something; between the three of them, Slate was the largest and therefore the default option for hauling the tom to Dawnglare's abode. That wasn't necessarily in his agenda for the day.​