i think it might be fear — lichentail

[FOXTAIL]

Foxtail twists and turns in his nest. Eyes squeezed shut, the young warrior tries to drown out the light snores from some clanmates. Come on, fall asleep already! He thinks to himself bitterly, but he opens his tired eyes. He lets out a tired groan, his brain is far too awake right now! His body cries out for rest, but his mind is racing like a rabbit. He can't stop thinking about Lichentail and her patrol... he can't seem to forget how her own fur coat was covered in her own blood. He can't forget how bad her wounds looked to his eyes... how the deputy couldn't stand without assistance. ...Just stop thinking about it. But that's easier said than done, isn't it? He lets out a defeated sigh. Maybe going on a walk around the camp perimeter will help.

The young warrior quietly leaves the warriors den, and starts to pad towards the edge of camp, when he catches movement in the corner of his eye. Foxtail comes to a stop and looks over his shoulder, raising an invisible eyebrow as he watches a cat exit the medicine cat den. He can't imagine Ravensong or Moonpaw being up this late. He imagines they have plenty of herbs in their den if and when they check on Lichentail— whether during the night or in the morning. Plus, they aren't supposed to leave camp alone... so why is this cat alone? He begins to pad over to the figure, and his eyes widen as his view gets clearer upon getting closer. "Lichentail?" He mews with a tired, yet puzzled voice. He quickens his pace and pads up to her, ears flattening to his skull with concern. "What are you doing out of the medicine cat den?" Any other time he would know better to question his deputy, but Lichentail shouldn't be up and moving around! Especially in the dead of night! Who knows what could've happened if he didn't leave the warriors den, she's in no shape to fight off any intruders! He holds back a wince as he glances at her cobweb wrapped wounds, trying not to think about how painful those must be. "...Y-you should be resting up, your wounds need to heal." He mews with a hushed voice, hoping not to wake Ravensong or Moonpaw.​

𝐨𝐨𝐜 —— 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦

• @lichentail
  
• 
  
  

  ---

  credit to skaicraft (via insta) for the artwork <3
  
• Foxtail

  ​
  

  warrior
  warmhearted
  timid
  experience: trained
  backstory: tbd
  biography: [HYPERLINK]
  credit to nopeita for the pixel & tropics for the icon <3
  

  cisgender male [he / him]
  eyes: green
  pelt: cinnamon/chocolate
  fur length: long
  parents: dawnflower and redfur (riverclan npcs)
  16 moons
  

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[lichenstar]

⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ​

Every time she woke up it felt like hot embers poured down her throat... had seared her vocal cords together, making it impossible to do more than let out an anguished gasp. Sleep was fitful, spent rolling to try to find comfort in the fleeting moments where poppyseeds might ease pain, the chill of ground marigolds might distract from the itching where flesh sought to mend itself. Sitting up with an alarmed breath, the deputy could feel how clammy her skin felt...

Selfishly, she wished her kittens did not need their mother... that she might crawl into the warrior's den in the dead of night and curl up beside her for some amount of relief, relief that could only be found in the gentle scent of her fur, of the long, loving rasps of a concerned tongue over her forehead.

Careful, warily, pin-drop pupils search the silence, the darkness, looking for anyone that might rush to her side to ease her back to sleep, might press firmly at her shoulders for her to lay down. But the sounds of serene snoring says the medicine cats have found their rest. A vision of mottled fur moves in the corner of her vision- a memory?- and she is drawn to leave the den.

"Cic..... ada?"

Had it been three seasons ago... when last she'd spent her nights in this den, nursing what was left of a tattered ear with bitter murmurs. Her chest hadn't hurt as much then... she hadn't felt half a fevered in her movements. The silhouette moves towards the edges of the sedge walls, where the stream moves just outside the camp. It is lovingly dotted with stones, a task she'd assigned to eager-hearted fosters in hopes of inspiring safety, an effort to make them feel helpful. She remembers the last time he'd found her there... wracked with nightmares and so frightful she had thought to strike him out of fear.

It seems like the closer they get the more of an obvious mirage it is.... Any attempt at focus finds him dissolved. A frown creases her face, having hoped it might be a sign, a message from StarClan (did deputies even get those?) but it was pointless now... There would be no more quiet talks in starry hours.

"Lichentail?"

Piercing blues turn in the obsidian night to stare hauntingly at a pale and dusty figure... he moves low to the ground and hisses a dismayed question, followed quickly with a demand for compliance... a demand for rest. The lynx point slinks towards the other RiverClanner with an unwavering stare, stopping just shy of him to lift a paw warily to his shoulder. The touch is ginger at first but more insistent, desperate as his realness grows more certain;

"Eelpaw," a ragged response whispers, a lilt suggesting it a question demanding an answer rather than just a name. It is grating... something winced against despite the need to communicate it. She'll die out there...

"Help.. less..." Keep here here. Where it's safe.

Smokestar could rip her other ear off if he wanted but even Brookstorm had hardly made it to see her warrior name... she was all that was left to show for of her family name now. And with her own injuries so grave... the reality became increasingly more harrowing. She could still feel the wet sensation of blood dribbling down her chest... even though mucky yellow marigold and cobwebs clung where scars would soon take shape instead.

"Apprentices... will die...." With a heavy swallow she searches his face for understanding... He has to understand. To make sure the other mentors of their young apprentices did not risk them further harm in the name of training. Not now.

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CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS

FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY​

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​

 

[FOXTAIL]

Lichentail slinks her way over to him, and the young warrior seemingly freezes at the gaze the deputy wears on her face. She almost seems to be lost in thought... it almost looks like she's looking at something behind him. But as she gets closer to him, her gaze locks on him, and those blue eyes have seen a world of hurt. His eyes must look innocent from her perspective, seemingly sheltered from the cruel world they live in. She must be looking into his gaze, fearing how much longer his gaze will hold onto this innocence... before it's ripped out. She lifts her paw and places it on his shoulder; and her gaze deepens. "Eelpaw." Lichentail's ragged voice reaches his ears, and he blinks in confusion. "...W-what about Eelpaw?" He mews quietly, as he feels her grip on his shoulder grow tense. Whether Lichentail heard his mew or not, she rasps out again.

"Help. less...."

His ears pin back now.

Ever since Blazestar proposed the newest warrior code, Foxtail has been on edge. He never fully took into consideration how young kits were made into apprentices... not until he heard Blazestar's story— while attending the gathering with his new apprentice. He was the last warrior to be assigned an apprentice so young, it was only mere days before the gathering. Eelpaw is so young, and so tiny, but the other warriors in the clan didn't seem to have any concern. So he hadn't either, at the time.

"Apprentices.... will die..." She rasps out one more time, and her eyes burn onto him; desperate for him to understand. He gives her a shaky nod of his head, his tail nervously swishing behind him. "...I-I won't let that happen," He stammers out. The rogues have been getting more and more tense— it's no longer petty thievery. They have killed cats— warriors and apprentices. ...If he took Eelpaw out into the territory like everything is normal, he'd put her in massive danger. Eelpaw would die if rogues ambushed us. He can feel his blood run cold at the thought, and he stares back into Lichentail's eyes... trying to ignore how her claws seemingly dig into his shoulder. "...I-I promise you Lichentail," He says with a hushed voice, "I'll keep her safe." No hunting or battling session would be worth the risk. Not now.
​

𝐨𝐨𝐜 —— 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦

• 
  
• 
  
  

  ---

  credit to skaicraft (via insta) for the artwork <3
  
• Foxtail

  ​
  

  warrior
  warmhearted
  timid
  experience: trained
  backstory: tbd
  biography: [HYPERLINK]
  credit to nopeita for the pixel & tropics for the icon <3
  

  cisgender male [he / him]
  eyes: green
  pelt: cinnamon/chocolate
  fur length: long
  parents: dawnflower and redfur (riverclan npcs)
  16 moons
  

  ---

  ​

​

 

[lichenstar]

⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ​

Ever so carefully do the barbs of her fears untangle themselves from the pale fur and flesh of her clan-mate, wincing to recognize they had buried themselves into his softness. Why was that always her instinct... even with Hazecloud she sunk in like a ravenous animal, scared of losing the bite of prey she couldn't afford to lose. But when hadn't it been worth the tiny speckles of red? To protect them, to keep them from running, to make them listen! It wasn't cruel... it was selfish fear... right?

A sigh of relief burns to have been exhaled at all, though this is meant to be a success worth that relaxation. A promise... he wouldn't let it happen.

"Good....." it is more alike a growl than a spoken word.

But her gaze travels past him instead, looking towards the dark as if searching for someone there. Had she done enough to make sure the camp was guarded even in the dead of night? They remember his presence again, a fleeting thing to hold onto when so many panicked thoughts run rampant in a over-tired body that demanded rest. Demanded recovery.

What else was there to say before the marigold and cobwebs would be too loose to allow her a moment to speak? Even the fractured syllables were hardly enough to get messages across- they were no more clear than omens and signs from StarClan. Bowing her head slightly, the blue molly tilts her head towards the stream, inviting him to sit.

Maybe... the best she could do was offer him quiet company. It probably wasn't her creeping around in the camp that woke him up anyways. Couldn't provide words of encouragement. Just the sound of ragged breathing.. a reminder at least that they were alive. Somehow.

---

CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS

FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY​

​

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