just where i want | watching

G

GABRIEL

Guest
જ➶ The sun is beginning to set, sky bathed in orange light. The taste of a rancid rat still clinging to his tongue, the cat that gave it too him worse for wear. This has become a small passtime for him honestly and he is a little bit late to his usual spot but he doubts that being late will change anything. Those rumors, no, most likely facts spreading around the twolegplace are what brings him to this very spot. The two toned tom is intrigued as he keeps hearing more and more pieces of information about this clan. A clan of wild cats that roam in the pines close to the dens of the upwalkers. There is even a tale of them breaking into the catcher's den and rescuing other cats from that death trap. Something he can say is congratulatory, if nothing else. Stepping across warm grass the tom easily jumps up onto a fence, the silver glinting in the dulling sunlight. He walks with a purpose as he steps across the metal and then he drops into the yard. Slipping underneath the wide bushes to a place where he lays. It is a small nest, patched and tattered but it's always been temporary. Gah settles down there and he pulls his eyes up to wait for the forest to come alive with the sound of pawsteps.

Afterall, this is not his first rodeo, he has seen them before. Heard whispers in the dying sunlight. They talk about borders and other cats, other clans. And his ears prick up at the prospect of what he can make out this time. Broken words and coversations.​
 

Anyone who had ever so much as looked at Twitchbolt knew he was jumpy, and especially tense on border patrols. Even to ThunderClan, who had never proven themselves anything other than an ally... but one of the worst was Twolegplace. He'd seen Blazestar die there- had been trapped for an hour with then-Quillpaw hiding from a dog- had chased off a dog only recently that had come from the damned place. And, of course... deep into its belly lay the Shelter. Ever bristling over traps even these moons later, Twitchbolt's fur stood thornlike along his spine, worry a static-buzzing-prickle beneath his skin.

In frantically scanning the surroundings, he had not been prepared to actually scent something. It was fairly distant, but distinctly not stale- and Twitchbolt froze for a moment, before whipping his head around to the patrol he'd strayed in front of.

"Someone's here," he whispered harshly, ears pinning against his head. Green-bathed pupils scanned the undergrowth by the fences before spotting it- spotting them- a pair of eyes, a half-and-half face, under the shadowed cover of a bush. Staring.

"What are you looking at?" Twitchbolt spat quickly. His voice was not aggressive, but was vaguely accusatory- why would someone just be watching? To gather information- to spy, sell them out to WindClan? Were they even doing anything worth watching?​
penned by pin ✧​
 
anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶​
The obsidian-hued male tensed, helm tilted to peer at the newly made lead warrior, molten copper narrowing. It seemed they had company. His helm swerved to peer at the fences with a critical hue, tail hanging low to brush the ground.

Duskpool remained silent, observing the concealed feline with a curious flicker of his brow. “It seems we’ve garnered more attention.” He mumbled, helm lowered, subtly peering at the rest of their patrol, tail flickering until his attention veered to the stranger, barely noticeable. ​
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thought speech​
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જ➶ An amused look spreads across his facial features as he drops his head down to the ground. Stretching out his frame, and lacking any real care as to how they perceive him across the silver mesh. His eyes, like toxic pools, watch the other who seems to have nothing but tension rippling up and down their spine. Poor lad. "Well, I'm not quite sure what I'm looking at. Though whatever, they look like they could shatter into pieces from a single touch." His legs stretch and claws tap against the fence, shaking it slightly before he twists a little. His eyes gather along the patrol and they all seem fairly tense now which honestly he is getting a kick out of. These clan cats are rather presumptuous it seems. Though perhaps he can hardly blame them. The twolegplace is full of venom and he is included among them.

"Relax your fur, I sleep here. I've been resting under this bush for a while now." Not his fault they failed to notice him. But then again he is not always here. He jumps to different nests as he sees fit. Taking food and protecting what he deems as his turf.​
 
Dawnglare is partially paying attention; little snippets here and there. Noise in his ears is just that– noise as he watches Twitchbolt stumble about like a cornered piece of prey. Mismatch fur ripples and coils without much earning it. He finds it remarkable that the blood spot in his eye has not yet grew to consume him. When Dawnglare had first notice it, he had been sure the then - child would be dead in his next in a moon, give or take.

Seasons later, and here he was. Perhaps it was the remarkable endurance that led him to stand despite his aliment that Blazestar found noble enough for his title. Perhaps it was that Blazestar knew he would not approve, and Blazestar seems to do all he can to ignore him. It's as if he's a ghost. Perhaps he should switch spirits with young Twitchbolt instead, so he could have his own ghosts to talk to. He thinks that they would be more caring, more useful.

" You love it. You crave it, dear, " he suddenly says. He does not really know what he just replied to, but someone said something about attention. Well, I'm not quite sure what I'm looking at. " Oh, neither am I. "

He is suddenly drawn to the scent of rotting, and it occurs to him that there is someone unfamiliar here. " Who is they? " He would look to Twitchbolt then, bewildered, but quickly realizing he would find no answers there. The stench almost makes him think Twitchbolt's time has at last come, but it wafts more from the twoleg silverstuff than anything else. Dawnglare cranes his neck at the stranger. " You smell diseased, " he remarks snuffily, the parting of his jaws slight to he may breathe a puff of air. " Why not sleep inside? Spare us of your sickly aura. We would not all stand a chance, " he admits solemnly, looking at Twitchbolt.

OOC 𓆩♡𓆪 7.18.2023 𝘚𝘠𝘕𝘖𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎
  • OOC: —
  • 66822083_8akGM16AUReCLf3.png
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  • ( 𝙒𝙃𝙔'𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙎𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂? ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
    —— He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
    —— Currently 54 moons old. 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.
    Currently in an era of questioning; upset and uncomfortable by things he should not be.​
    Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads
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He regarded the strange tom, eyelid twitching, for a few agonising moments- suspicion burned very bright in his gaze, enough to burn right through the mismatched fur of the strange tom. Duskpool and Dawnglare saw him too- that confirmed he wasn't mad with worry, at least, hallucinating from all the stress this border put him under...

The medicine cat's bewildered remark, who is they, was so similar to Twitchbolt's own scrambling thoughts that he forgot whose mouth it had fell from- and, surprisingly, turned to meet a gaze as momentarily bemused as his own. The look did not last long- wariness was placed again upon the stranger, kept... away, but still dangerous. There was still potential, still- still something worth worrying about.

Dawnglare's remarks were not helping- speaking of sickness, the type that apparently struck fatal. It unnerved him, and that much was clear. His fur fluffed up into a thistle bush once again, though his voice remained void of aggression. Not a threat yet... it wasn't worth turning him into one by being the first to attack. If he meant well, then... "J-j-just don't try anything funny," he instructed, crooked tail flicking weakly in a vague attempt to emphasise his point. Watching was fine, he supposed... if it was just watching, and not spying.​
penned by pin ✧​
 
anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶​
Duskpool’s lip twitched, peering at the concealed brute with deadpan optics, letting out an inaudible huff. He said nothing, maw clamped shut despite the gleam of molten copper, helm pivoting to stare at Dawnglare. Shaking his helm, Duskpool didn’t comment. No. He didn’t like attention, fraying his nerves until they sparked, threatening to ignite in a fiery mess. Maybe he did once, but that was when he was an ignorant kit preening for his parent’s attention when their cruel words drowned that childish nature he barely remembered having.

I doubt they sleep inside. He wanted to comment, but directed a deadpan optic to Twitchbolt, rumbling. “Doubtful.” He doubted they’d attack, far outnumbered although he couldn’t attest to Dawnglare’s fighting skills, not one to pay attention to the medicine cat unless the situation required it.

He mildly wondered if WindClan put them up to this, but when did those prideful cats rely on someone so close to Twolegs? He doubted it, but cats were unpredictable. Sootstar came for a reason, even if Duskpool couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. To go after a clan harboring ex-Windclanners. Why waste the energy when they were long out of her fur? So what? He let out an inaudible grumble. No one knew what that crazed she-cat had inside her helm, and Duskpool had no hope of finding out if he didn’t want to lose his head—giving me a damn headache.

“You got a name, kid?” He directed a fiery optic towards the stranger, tone brimming with boredom, but the casual coil of muscle that brimmed with anticipation. ​
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thought speech​
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જ➶ His eyes like heinous poison look towards another who seems to be confused, asking a rather ridiculous question. Then finally they see him and he tilts his head. Though their words make his eyes barely narrow. "Diseased you say? Well I'm certainly happy that I at least don't look it." His small grin pulls petitely across his face before it is gone then and he shifts his eyes away. A soft yawn pulls across his muzzle then as he lays his head upon the ground
"Why? So you can attempt to rule the outside? I think not. Besides sharing is caring they say." His eyes are heavy lidded now, the idea to sleep coming full force. They are boring him and atthe moment nothing interesting has happened. Well, except for the nervous one and he chuckles lowly. "I wouldn't dream of doing anything funny. Honest to the stars." He knows of their strange ways and he dips his head before the other speaks up.

But a slow frown pulls at his muzzle then. A long measured silence that seems to hold a thousand words within it. How his gaze rakes over Duskpool says something. What that something is is dangerous before suddenly the atmosphere changes. "Well respectfully, I don't give my name out to those that call me a child. So seems you'll have to guess." Then thoughtfully he twists himself onto his back, casually relaxing. "So, yall always come as the sun sets to check the outer rim of your territory?"​
 
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