- Feb 18, 2023
- 381
- 55
- 28
anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
/ no gore ! there are mentions of death, but only in passing ! will provide a summary at the end ^^
On his own, wandering SkyClan territory, Duskpool found himself hunting, somethin’ he’d been doing since returning. He sighed, tilting his helm to peer at the towering pines with deadpan hues, wooly tail flickering at the few birds hobbling along its thicker branches, overshadowed by thin needles that quivered beneath the cold front causin’ his bones to creak and groan. Damnit.
Turning away from it, the obsidian-furred warrior picked his way through the undergrowth, stopping just short of a hair from a collapsed body just on the cusp of SkyClan’s border. His helm was low to the ground, trickier than usual, but manageable if he twisted his body, staring at its chest's slow rise and fall.
Urging one paw after the other, Duskpool stopped, staring at an all-too-familiar face. Older than he remembered, but it sure as hell was unmistakable. Bulky muscle coiled beneath smokey fur, molten copper zeroing on the familiar tapestry of scars visible beneath dull, matted black fur. His maw parted, revealing sharp canines only to slide shut, frowning.
Unlike his reunion with his younger sister, this brought a forbidding sense of doom over weary shoulders. He blinked languidly, circling the battered elder until he came to a stop, staring at the familiar indent of his nose that curved into a pair of familiar half-lidded dark green hues. “Old man?” He finally uttered, raspy and deep drawing a slow reaction from the elder who rumbled tiredly, stretching a war-torn muzzle towards him. “The hell are ya out here?” He breathed, tone tinged with well-hidden surprise.
He was a youngster then, naïve and stupid to believe him but Duskpool hadn’t a clue what to do, thrust into somethin’ he couldn’t wrap his head around. Runnin’ like cowards. Battlin’ for their lives, but it didn’t do a lick of good for ‘em. Death was inevitable when dogs were around, snapping their jaws at quivering hindquarters and petrified yowls slashing through the air.
Duskpool breathed shakily, staring at the old man brought back memories he wanted nothin’ to do with. His old man had been the only thing keepin’ him afloat, only a young apprentice he’d reckon with younger brothers lookin’ up to him for guidance. He’d been terrified then, wonderin’ if he’d be nothin’ but bones like the rest of ‘em, hunted like prey animals for the amusement of upwalkers, not that he gave a damn, Duskpool just wanted to make sure his brothers survived that hellhole.
The old man never gave offered a name, takin’ pity on the newbies and shovin’ him under his wing. He was the only thing he had that resembled a father until everythin’ came crashin’ down and all the responsibility fell on his shoulders. A lot of cats died because of him and Duskpool didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for it.
Stars. Duskpool grunted, deadpan amusement runnin’ rampant. He’d just—Shaking his helm, the obsidian warrior stared at the trees, grinning bitterly. “Youkai?” His old man’s voice broke him out of wavering thoughts, rasping the name with a throaty cough. “Yeah. It’s me, old man.” He rumbled, half-sitting half-falling beside the wheezing elder, mangled ear flat against his helm, molten copper heavy as he pressed his helm against the other’s bony shoulder, breathing in the nostalgic smell he’d grown up with. His heart clenched, uncertain as he listened to the elder’s rattled breath.
“M’ sorry.” He mumbled, voice brimming with guilt, so unlike the unapologetic warrior that it tasted rancid on a sandpaper tongue. It was his fault, but they both know that apologies meant nothin’ to the two, a lesson his old man was adamant in teachin’ him since the start.
“Wasn’t chur fault.” The elder rumbled, voice hoarse. His body shifted with a pained groan, neck curling just right to press against Duskpool’s missing ear. “Blame mahsef fahwar puttin' all that pressure on ya.” The battered warrior huffed, rising slightly to stare at the older tom, lips thinning. Right. “Don't ya disagree. Ya wuz gist uh kid then,” He grinned weakly, coughs ripping out causing dark green hues to flutter, breath shuddering that shook the elder’s skeletal frame, bone threatening to break from paper-thin skin.
Grinning bitterly, Duskpool rasped a weak tongue over the tom’s helm, staring at the only parental figure that gave a damn. “No point in blamin’ yerself either.” He chuffed, pressing a wet nose to a ragged black ear.
His old man choked out a humm, falling lax against the bulky warrior, breathing coming out in short, soft gasps. “Wanted ta see if i could join.” The elder let out a pained rasp. “M’ gettin’ tired.” Duskpool laughed, soft. “Rest ya here? I’ll stay here with ya, alright, old man? Keep ya company. Ya did it.” He rumbled, tone wavering, watching his flank still, never to draw breath again.
A laugh bubbled out, raw and bitter, but he dared not let the well of tears slip down wooly cheeks. He pulled away from his old man’s cooling form, helm falling downward, chin pressing against the wooly mesh of fur to stare off into the distance.
Goodbye.
/ duskpool was out on a solo hunt when he stumbles on a familiar face, turns out to be his father figure dying just on the edge of skyclan's border near twolegs ! he wanted to join skyclan just to spend out his days in comfort, but ends up dying ( the guy was over 160 moons ) so duskpool ended up staying with him until he passed - this is his 200th post, or well - a celebratory post for reaching 200 lol
On his own, wandering SkyClan territory, Duskpool found himself hunting, somethin’ he’d been doing since returning. He sighed, tilting his helm to peer at the towering pines with deadpan hues, wooly tail flickering at the few birds hobbling along its thicker branches, overshadowed by thin needles that quivered beneath the cold front causin’ his bones to creak and groan. Damnit.
Turning away from it, the obsidian-furred warrior picked his way through the undergrowth, stopping just short of a hair from a collapsed body just on the cusp of SkyClan’s border. His helm was low to the ground, trickier than usual, but manageable if he twisted his body, staring at its chest's slow rise and fall.
Urging one paw after the other, Duskpool stopped, staring at an all-too-familiar face. Older than he remembered, but it sure as hell was unmistakable. Bulky muscle coiled beneath smokey fur, molten copper zeroing on the familiar tapestry of scars visible beneath dull, matted black fur. His maw parted, revealing sharp canines only to slide shut, frowning.
Unlike his reunion with his younger sister, this brought a forbidding sense of doom over weary shoulders. He blinked languidly, circling the battered elder until he came to a stop, staring at the familiar indent of his nose that curved into a pair of familiar half-lidded dark green hues. “Old man?” He finally uttered, raspy and deep drawing a slow reaction from the elder who rumbled tiredly, stretching a war-torn muzzle towards him. “The hell are ya out here?” He breathed, tone tinged with well-hidden surprise.
He was a youngster then, naïve and stupid to believe him but Duskpool hadn’t a clue what to do, thrust into somethin’ he couldn’t wrap his head around. Runnin’ like cowards. Battlin’ for their lives, but it didn’t do a lick of good for ‘em. Death was inevitable when dogs were around, snapping their jaws at quivering hindquarters and petrified yowls slashing through the air.
Duskpool breathed shakily, staring at the old man brought back memories he wanted nothin’ to do with. His old man had been the only thing keepin’ him afloat, only a young apprentice he’d reckon with younger brothers lookin’ up to him for guidance. He’d been terrified then, wonderin’ if he’d be nothin’ but bones like the rest of ‘em, hunted like prey animals for the amusement of upwalkers, not that he gave a damn, Duskpool just wanted to make sure his brothers survived that hellhole.
The old man never gave offered a name, takin’ pity on the newbies and shovin’ him under his wing. He was the only thing he had that resembled a father until everythin’ came crashin’ down and all the responsibility fell on his shoulders. A lot of cats died because of him and Duskpool didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for it.
Stars. Duskpool grunted, deadpan amusement runnin’ rampant. He’d just—Shaking his helm, the obsidian warrior stared at the trees, grinning bitterly. “Youkai?” His old man’s voice broke him out of wavering thoughts, rasping the name with a throaty cough. “Yeah. It’s me, old man.” He rumbled, half-sitting half-falling beside the wheezing elder, mangled ear flat against his helm, molten copper heavy as he pressed his helm against the other’s bony shoulder, breathing in the nostalgic smell he’d grown up with. His heart clenched, uncertain as he listened to the elder’s rattled breath.
“M’ sorry.” He mumbled, voice brimming with guilt, so unlike the unapologetic warrior that it tasted rancid on a sandpaper tongue. It was his fault, but they both know that apologies meant nothin’ to the two, a lesson his old man was adamant in teachin’ him since the start.
“Wasn’t chur fault.” The elder rumbled, voice hoarse. His body shifted with a pained groan, neck curling just right to press against Duskpool’s missing ear. “Blame mahsef fahwar puttin' all that pressure on ya.” The battered warrior huffed, rising slightly to stare at the older tom, lips thinning. Right. “Don't ya disagree. Ya wuz gist uh kid then,” He grinned weakly, coughs ripping out causing dark green hues to flutter, breath shuddering that shook the elder’s skeletal frame, bone threatening to break from paper-thin skin.
Grinning bitterly, Duskpool rasped a weak tongue over the tom’s helm, staring at the only parental figure that gave a damn. “No point in blamin’ yerself either.” He chuffed, pressing a wet nose to a ragged black ear.
His old man choked out a humm, falling lax against the bulky warrior, breathing coming out in short, soft gasps. “Wanted ta see if i could join.” The elder let out a pained rasp. “M’ gettin’ tired.” Duskpool laughed, soft. “Rest ya here? I’ll stay here with ya, alright, old man? Keep ya company. Ya did it.” He rumbled, tone wavering, watching his flank still, never to draw breath again.
A laugh bubbled out, raw and bitter, but he dared not let the well of tears slip down wooly cheeks. He pulled away from his old man’s cooling form, helm falling downward, chin pressing against the wooly mesh of fur to stare off into the distance.
Goodbye.
/ duskpool was out on a solo hunt when he stumbles on a familiar face, turns out to be his father figure dying just on the edge of skyclan's border near twolegs ! he wanted to join skyclan just to spend out his days in comfort, but ends up dying ( the guy was over 160 moons ) so duskpool ended up staying with him until he passed - this is his 200th post, or well - a celebratory post for reaching 200 lol
thought speech
