camp hijo de la luna — relaxing

[DUSKPOOL]

anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Relaxing and Duskpool were words that would have never been put in the same sentence, but wakin’ up in the med den wasn’t something on his agenda either. He huffed, chest rising and falling with stuttered breaths, feeling the chilly air creep into his bones and turn them bitterly numb, soreness more present during the heart of leafbare. It made his body groan and creak like chimes clinking during the tempestuous wind.

Despite the cold, Duskpool found a warm spot, shifting until his muscles gave way, unwinding like putty. He breathed softly, resting his helm against his forelimbs, tail curled half-heartedly around himself with dozing hues. He couldn’t remember the last time he willingly slept within these camp walls since he returned from the journey.

Since the attack, barely remembered what happened since their return, speaking low-hanging words until exhaustion pulled at his troubled mind, reeling him back into the comforts of pooling darkness when he woke up with poultice slathered on healing wounds. Duskpool wasn’t one to relax by any means, prodding others to get to sleep and eat their fill than himself. He snorted, muzzle wrinkling in bitter amusement, opting to shift subtly to soak up the sun's rays during leafbare, joints stiff and uncooperative, but the old fool managed. If he hadn’t been camp-bound, the warrior would have found something to do to ease the soreness, but for now, the sun’s rays would have to do, albeit not as effectively.

Humming quietly, the smokey warrior let his eyelids droop, falling into a light doze, mangled ears still angled for signs of approaching footsteps.

/ takes place a few days after this thread ! ​

​

thought speech​

 

[Drizzlepelt]

Drizzlepelt was of course stressed about Duskpool the entire time he was healing from this latest assault, as he predicted. After the ruckus he made when he saw the passed out form of his old mentor, he quickly retreated to the warrior’s den, crying to himself. He felt so embarrassed, but all the pent up anxiety finally let loose. What if this was the time he finally passed on?

Luckily, that didn’t end up being the case. Duskpool survives just as he always does, just with some new scars to add to his ever growing collection. His anger was not mitigated despite, however, and Drizzlepelt feels very deeply that he has to say his piece whenever he sees him next, finally talk things out like adults. And that time came a few days later.

It’s odd to see Duskpool relaxing, actually taking his health seriously for once. It’s a nice odd nonetheless. Still, Drizzlepelt steels himself, not ready to bring up his concerns. But it needs to happen. Maybe then the older cat will finally realize just how much he affects others.

He takes a seat next to his adopted father, folding his feet underneath him and tries to relax, despite the shivering fear. “We need to talk.” Drizzlepelt comes out with it bluntly, so he doesn’t have time to think about how bad he could fumble this. “I’m worried about you. Extremely worried, in fact. Maybe it’s not my place, but… you’re too self-sacrificial. It’s like you don’t see the value in yourself unless it benefits the clan. But you’re important. Especially to me! So I just wanna know…why?”

Just a simple question, why. But it holds so much meaning. Why he seems to hate himself, keeps working to the point of exhaustion. Why he doesn’t seem to care about Drizzlepelt or his other family’s feelings. Hell, SkyClan’s feelings either. He wants, no, needs to know.​

 

[edenberry ?!]

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 〰Uh... Edenpaw lingers like a shade caught by a ghost hunter... staring between Drizzlepelt and Duskpool like they were about to witness a crime unfold. The younger boy looks absolutely burnt out by his frustrations, exhausted... and honestly, who could blame him? Edenpaw didn't have a father-figure... they couldn't empathize with the hurt that came from familial betrayals or inconsideration... But... It still sucked to watch. And also... was like.. super awkward.

This was definitely intended to be a private moment, one that did not ask for a cheery, bounce-stepped apprentice's injection but. They had something to say about it too! After all... they'd been the one to find him and Flowercloud first... been the one left shuddering and shaking like leaf-fall's last leaf on a branch through cold winds.

"You should listen to him y'know," they chirp with a furrowed brow. Just because he was being good right now and actually relaxing didn't mean he wasn't gonna hare off to do something stupid the moment his legs felt sturdy enough to try. "I think.... we've suffered enough loss," and though they refuse to identify any of their fallen, there are a plethora of names that jump to mind. Jagged had been the first...

Blackberry stains looked so much like his blood now.

And there was Bright... who had lost her life fighting to make amends for a dumb, kit-like mistake.

And...

They flick an ear, clearly growing agitated by the memory. "And he's like.. your boy... you should care about his feelings more than you own..."

Selfish geezer...​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

How unfortunate, to be accosted in such a way the one time you allow yourself downtime. Dawnglare has seen too him, already; sewn poultice and web against his pelt. Danger seems to follow this one closely. Too - closely, perhaps, a sentiment apparently shared by Drizzlepelt. Dawnglare takes pause, able to see how the resting form of Duskpool is slowly approached. Black - and white, grey against grey... Oh, how he'd hate to be in Duskpool's place, having what little sun remained dredged up by sad faces...

... He did see what they meant, though. Sure, he did...

Dawnglare passes the conversation by, conspicuously, or perhaps not. He allows himself a brief comment, as he moves past the small gathering; small intervention. Say what you will... " I do see you more often than I would like to, " lowly, he remarks. Perhaps he was simply tired of his unremarkable face and a grating personality... Or perhaps, he would like him to stay safe. (And perhaps both— such endless possibilities!) It is not a conversation for him to have, in the end, and he would not linger for long.

A WISE WOMAN SAID I'M ALIVE 🍷 NOBODY'S EVER TOLD HER SHE'S WRONG

• 
  
  

• 

• ( I'M AS ALIVE AS HER BEARD IS LONG ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  𓆩♡𓆪 He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  𓆩♡𓆪 Currently 60 moons old as of 12.05.23. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

We need to talk. A drawn-out breath escaped battered lips, marred flesh curling from the motion, born out of defeat rather than annoyance, hoping to calm the harsh pulse of his thundering heart—black and soulless since birth. It was a conversation long overdue, something Duskpool should have done first, not his son who looked ragged, speaking blunt words that hit right on the nose. His heart, long filled with sludge was now a hazy river on a foggy afternoon, turbulent yet soothing waters that lapped at the hazy rock-filled shore pools with unapologetic ooze seeping into the crevices of pliable muscle like thorns, refusing to let go like cooling metal hardening into a grotesque figurine.

The smokey warrior hadn’t dared think of the possibility of letting go, unhooking the thorns that caged his heart and soul, the long-lost anguish and ghostly features of cats long past, nothing more than another nail to the coffin, adding to the growing shelf that’ll collect a years’ worth of cobweb in the back of his mind—out of sight, but never entirely out of mind.

His battered form shifted, muscles pulling to watch Drizzlepelt through his peripheral, molten hues crinkling. The warrior remained silent, ears angled forward. “I know.” He began with a slow rumble, wooly tail flickering. I know. His thoughts strained, turning to glance at Edenpaw with a grim smile. Duskpool wasn’t stupid, nor was he obvious, far more self-aware of his self-destructive behaviors that dipped into territory the warrior wasn’t willing to admit in camp.

At Dawnglare’s approach, Duskpool’s lips quirked, subtle against the monochrome background. He’d spent more time than he’d like to admit, healing from wounds he suffered. Remaining silent other than the slow dip of his helm, ears swerving. Ain’t fair to ya. He wanted to grunt, but instead, focused his gaze on the other nestled beside him with a soft rumble, breaching more like a sigh, birthed out of tiredness than any real emotion.

“Yer family, kid.” He began, voice slow, rumbling. “Never think it ain’t yer place because it is.” He breathed, glancing at Edenpaw as he said this, molten hues drifting back to Drizzle’s familiar grey pelt.

He shifted, pulling himself into a sitting position with a low grunt, muscular form rippling, letting the other lean on him if he wished. “I don’t want ya to worry. Not about this old fool. I ain’t goin’ anywhere this time ‘round, ya hear? Made a promise and I’ll do damn well to see it through.” He grunted. “I care about ya more than life itself. I’d do anythin’ to keep the lot of ya safe.” Hypocritical, so willing to give up his own that he’d forgotten what it would do to them if he found himself ten feet into the grave. He still couldn’t quite believe it, knowin’ well enough that they’d do just fine without his presence, but it would still hurt. The loss. The unpredictable grief that’d appear.

He grunted, expression pulled taunt. “Ain’t had much goin’ for me. Didn’t think I deserved a lick of good.” He breathed, glancing upward at the wide expanse of sky stretched over them. “Things I did. Seen. Did a real good job in screwin’ with me.” He spoke monotonously, unwilling to breach the subject further. “Thought it’d do me some good for makin’ up for the things I did.” He chuckled, low sounding and guttural within his chest, helm dipped low with a shake of his helm. Killin’ Shadowfire. Losing Yukio. Lostmoon. Smokefang. Jaggedstorm. It weighed on his mind like sinking stones, tugging at frayed ends.

Didn’t do a real good job. Takin’ care of ya. He glanced at Drizzlepelt. A horrible father, but Duskpool would make damn sure to make up for it as harrowing as it’d be, unlearning moons worth of bad habits. Duskpool was a stubborn old fool.

“I ain’t one to apologize.” He began. “But I’ll promise ya this.” He rumbled, molten hues narrowing. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere, kid. I’m here to stay for another hundred moons.” He finished. He’d try for them. And he meant it. ​

​

thought speech​

 

[Drizzlepelt]

Drizzlepelt almost feels bad after both Edenpaw and Dawnglare back him up, not wanting Duskpool to feel too pressured. Though, it still all needed to be said. He awaits Duskpool’s response, and luckily he seems to take his words to heart. When he’s immediately told he’s family, however, tears start forming at the corner of his eyes. Of course he considers Duskpool to be his father, but to hear it out loud…it means a lot. The most anything has ever meant to him.

He knows that this all stems from him just wanting to protect his home and family. He knows that feeling very well. “I understand. You’ve… been through a lot. More than any cat should, even. But you don’t have to make up for anything. You do more than enough, not just for me! I only… I don’t want to see you go.” He can’t lose the only figure he’s had that he feels like truly cares about him. His real family. He doesn’t care if he never finds his birth father, just like he used to wish all the time, as long as Duskpool stays alive.

“You better keep that promise,” Drizzlepelt says softly, knowing fully well they both can never be sure when he’ll truly pass. As long as it’s not from tragedy, he’ll feel more at ease. For now, at the very least, Drizzlepelt can hold onto his words. He finally takes up the opportunity to move closer, laying his head on Duskpool’s back and purring. “I’m sorry I bothered you when you need to heal. I love you, dad.”​