HEAVY TO MY DAMN CORE | duskpool

[CHRYSALISWING]

Hunting, alongside fighting, was one of the only reprieves that Chrysaliswing sought in the face of his complicated problems. It was a chance to be away from prying eyes and baleful conversation, and he often seized that chance. The focus of the act, the utter dedication, kept him distracted for moments at a time. Keen nose sniffed along the frays of the Skyclan border for any stray tendrils of scent, as though he pushed through the bleeding and overarching aroma of the pine forest, only to expose the running wires and splintered veins beneath. The warrior liked to think of his home territory as a maze, of which he had to weave and wade through. He picked through bark-bone and tendril-tendon until he found the meat that he so sought. Suddenly, a harsh shriek unlike anything he'd heard before cut through the silence, as if the start of a kindling fire, roaring up to become a great wildfire of worry. Fictitious eyebrows furrowed, as though to judge whether it had been a mere trick of the ears. Duskpool seemed to have heard it, too, so Chrys surmised that it was no hallucination. With a soundless nod, he motioned to the fellow Skyclan warrior that he had been so content on ignoring just seconds ago. The chimaeric tomcat pushed through the bushes, peeling back the gloom as it shadowed the branches and the brackens, only to face a winding trail of red upon the ground. "What is this scent...? Rabbit? It reeks of the moorlands." He muttered aloud, until a realization chilled him to the very bone. Rabbits did not live in Skyclan's woodlands. Why would one be here, then? Could a Windclanner be trespassing, somehow?

The unmistakably pungent smell of fox flooded into his nose, though somewhat faint as though it had been hemmed by the winds and by time, though it certainly still remained close. Small growl rumbled from a brimstone throat. Even the hawed margins of the predator's scent was enough to send sharp needles of pure fear at his feet. "We need to go after it. Who knows if it'll come closer to the territory?" Heterochromatic gaze turned backwards to Duskpool, molten hues spilling out anger like it were a bane, like it were throes of fire and heat that came from longhaired coat in ebbing waves. Besides, Chrysaliswing was itching for some sort of fight to loosen bunched muscles up, like he wanted to bind up the nerves faulted by his own fractures. As much as it was almost shameful to admit, fighting was one of the only times where he felt that his worth beyond a feline of foul manners and fouler mouth was appreciated. Without even saying a word to Duskpool, the pitch-and-sun feline followed the tracks of the fox.

𝘯𝘰 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 ⚠︎ 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘷𝘦

• OOC: @DUSKPOOL
  
• 
• 

  —— CHRYSALISWING / He/They / 24 Moons
  —— Warrior of Skyclan / Mentoring n/a
  —— A long-haired tomcat with chimaeric patterning. His left side is fully black and his right side is black splotched with sunset-orange. He has complete heterochromia, with his right eye being a bright green and his left eye being a glowering yellow.
  —— Abrasive, temperamental, and critical. Approach at your own risk and engage at your own cost. Despite this, he is a hard worker and quick to call out what he finds wrong.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

A routine patrol, somethin’ familiar to the rugged tom, but despite the humdrum routine patrols there was always something to destroy that sense of monotonous solitude to offer a gleaming sense of surprise. Inside the thick pine groves, Duskpool stared ahead, managed ear swiveling at the slightest rustle, molten honey hues slitted with careful inspection, mulling and categorizing the faintest whiff that bled through needles and vibrant leaves. A rumble reverberated deep within his throat, barely heard, at the young warrior’s loud muttering, helm pivoting with creased brows. Rabbits? Dread pooling deep within his gut, Duskpool peeled away from his post, burly frame shoveling past undergrowth to stare at dawn-kissed fur tickling the ground.

Shit. It was one thing to find lost kittypets, but foxes were another, vicious creature that bled wrongness just as mutts did. It never mattered what it was, but the potential danger and depravity raised the stakes. Always gotta be somethin’. His gaze narrowed, black pupils shrinking, taken over by rich molten copper, maw parted with words of protest until logic cooled heated skin, swallowing thickly with a bittersome sigh.

If Chrysaliswing hadn’t wandered off, the marred warrior would have agreed, albeit with some rules to follow until they could determine the level of danger. He growled in warning, throat rumbling with the quiet sound. His bulky build stood before the warrior, attempting to stop him before he got any further, molten hues gleaming dangerously. “Before ya wander off, I wanna clarify that we are only observin’, not attackin’ it.” He hissed, muzzle wrinkling. “And if it comes to it, I expect ya to haul tail to warn Orangestar. I’ll hold it off till ya come back with reinforcements then I expect ya to give it hell.” His words held firm, refusin’ to back down if the other challenged it because logically, Duskpool was built for battle, not runnin’ and their leader needed youngsters like Chrysaliswing than old grumpy toms like himself. “I sure as hell won’t stop ya, but use yer head, not yer anger.” The older warrior muttered, paws pivoting to follow the penetrating odor, gaze fluttering about the undergrowth for broken shrubbery, managed ear flickering. Duskpool carried forward with a rumbled huff, muzzle wrinkling. Damn things. ​

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thought speech​

 

[CHRYSALISWING]

Chrysaliswing heard the rumbling thunder of warning as Duskpool stood right in front of him, though the chimaeric warrior hardly subordinated himself to such pressures, instead facing the storm with the same disdain he faced the insects and the still air. Whiskers twitched with a contempt like electricity, pulsing through his purls and striking through rust-and-shade hues. Who was Dusk to tell him what to do? He wasn't his leader, and the only thing that the dark-pelted cat had above him was his age. To Chrys, moons lived was hardly an indicator of gained wisdom. "Fine. Whatever. Don't tell me what to do." The half-toned tom grumbled, wildfire maw expelling mere murmurs instead of the peals of anger that he usually would, smoke emerging instead of flame. Duskpool did raise a good point, regardless of Chrys' own rising wrath. It was better not to rush into the maw of the canine. Chrysalis pushed past Duskpool, paying little heed to what he considered raucous din from a peer, not a higher-up.

"Come on. Let's go already. The fox is probably tree-lengths away from us now." The longhaired warrior pushed forwards without waiting for any input on his fellow patrol-goer, as though finding the predator faster was his goal, a simple obligation to complete instead of a deadly encounter. Nose move slightly as the pungent odor of the fox rested heavy upon his keen senses. Intermingled with the metallic scent of blood, Chrysaliswing could not help how derision blazed through fiery countenance. Suddenly, a flash of russet flitted through the green, silent thunderclap bursting through the gloom. He immediately ducked downwards into the shadows of a nearby thornbush, curses stealing the breath from under him. "Get down! It's close." He hissed to Duskpool, unsure if the other tomcat had seen it before him. Damnit. I should have checked if we were upwind from the fox. Heart pounded loud and knelling, as though his pulse had roosted within his skull instead of his ribcage.

𝘯𝘰 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 ⚠︎ 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘷𝘦

• OOC:
  
• 
• 

  —— CHRYSALISWING / He/They / 24 Moons
  —— Warrior of Skyclan / Mentoring n/a
  —— A long-haired tomcat with chimaeric patterning. His left side is fully black and his right side is black splotched with sunset-orange. He has complete heterochromia, with his right eye being a bright green and his left eye being a glowering yellow.
  —— Abrasive, temperamental, and critical. Approach at your own risk and engage at your own cost. Despite this, he is a hard worker and quick to call out what he finds wrong.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

don't raise your voice . improve your argument .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Voice taunt with unwaverin’ boredom, molten hues shiftin’ aimlessly after the younger warrior with a rumpled sigh, muffled behind closed teeth, nostrils flarin’ down a smokey muzzle riddled with white. Sure. Duskpool could offerin’ a warnin’ but that didn’t mean the other had to bother with ‘em. He expected him to lash out but was surprised when the other opted for grumbled words over a fiery inferno.

A maw scarcely parted, tastin’ the air of pungent musk, hushed footfalls followin’ after the autumn-kissed warrior, offerin’ a noiseless grunt in agreement. Better they catch up before it picked its way to camp, or another patrol comin’ by.

SkyClan didn’t need another death.

Duskpool slipped into the shadows of the undergrowth before Chrysaliswing’s hiss of warnin’, fiery hues starin’ at the russet pelt crowned with dingy black whisker lengths from the two hunched beneath shrubbery. A scowl pulled at scarred lips, mind reelin’ with what should be done.

Chasin’ the thing won’t be an option. The chances of it returnin’ were too high and leavin’ it for another clan to deal with didn’t sit right with the male.

Foxdung — just their luck.

It wasn’t till the shufflin’ stopped, starin’ down a smokey muzzle and into yellowish slits that reaped of death. His heart gave a shudder, mind lightnin’ quick, already decidin’ their fate as solid muscle rippled beneath obsidian fur, hefty paws diggin’ into the churnin’ earth to break free from the blasted shrubbery and into the flank of the fox, drawin’ loud yips. A loud snarl thundered out, rattlin’ his chest like tremored earth — raw and guttural. “I’ll keep it distracted!” He barked to the younger warrior, fiery pupils slitted with a murderous sneer plastered against scarred features.

“Keep yer eyes on me.” He seethed, words tightly strung together, Duskpool barreled into the fox a second time, avoidin’ the snap of unhinged jaws ready to tear into bodily flesh, allowin’ the burly warrior to lash out with an expeditious bite to its exposed side, tongue burstin’ with coppery ichor.

The warrior’s side remained pressed against the fox’s chest, flank givin’ one large heave, similar to his position before with mangled ears pulled taunt against his helm. “Damn mutt.” He snarled, teeth grittin’ with the extra weight, shoulder givin’ a painful twinge Duskpool jerked out of the way, dodgin’ a well-aimed swipe to his neck. In retaliation, the obsidian warrior dealt his blow, intent on windin’ the creature by focusin’ on its chest and nose.

It can’t very well fight if it can’t breathe, now can it? ​

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thought speech​