private let's take a look | dogteeth

[WOLFGLADE]

જ➶They know what it is like to have new wounds. Some think of them as badges of honor while others can't stand the sight of them and reject them. They have their own share of wounds from the Great Battle that forced every cat here into seperation. Even themselves and their twin. To this day he doesn't know if following Cicadastar to the beginnings of Riverclan was a good idea or not. The pain in which Briar had instilled, which caused that battle will forever linger in their mind. To them a fight could have been avoided and even others believed that as well. Yet it happened all the same and blood like none they have ever seen was spilled upon the ground. Spirits forcing their paws. It still gives him nightmares but he moves on and he hopes that their twin can forgive them. They miss them. After a long momemt of respite the tom forces his way up, pale colored paws flexing against the ground. Once such member of the clan has wounds and he feels a slight need to see how it is all progressing in healing. Truly they haven't been the most present within the place they had helped to build up but now, now seems like as good a time as any right. Shifting their form makes way towards someone, eyes of the murky depths focused before words are almost carefully thrown.

"Have you had Beesong recheck those?" A paw lifts up and they casually motion to the side of the other's face. They soon fall silent before jaws part and then close again. He isn't good with this stuff and his voided face speaks volumes before he glances away and then back towards the blonde and chestnut tom. "If it hurts I can always fetch something for you. I don't have my paws full at the moment." Plus they do believe they have done enough hunting for the day. Maybe he would like to go out and away from camp for a little. Being a bodyguard is of no consequence to the chocolate brown warrior.

@DogTeeth ​

 

[DogTeeth]

The riverbed was never quiet, it sings a groaning gurgle through the dark roots of the reeds. A fisherman stalks the line that persuades the sands with a strum of its never-ending rhythm. His face still aches, so he won’t be swimming. The minnow-pool is where he lurks, if but with a bit of annoyance in the twitch of his tail. His whiskers skirt his wounded cheek and he winces. Almost in turn with an approaching set of paws and a voice thrown his way. Asking if he’d seen Beesong.

Ocean blue flick to Wolfglade, drop to the shallows and catch the reflection he had been trying his best to ignore. Pink lines run up his eye socket and cheek, his stomach is burning with an ache. He looked like a wilted flower, his beauty had nails carved into it permanently. He stiffens. " yest-… maybe the day before… I dunno " his tone is clipped but soft, brows pinching. " no…it doesn’t sting anymore… and it’s… looking like it’s staying so " the what’s the point in his voice is clear yet unspoken.

Wispy hairs like his own only darker like the silt of the shallows and patches of white like a snow valley. Wolfglade was a hard face to look at in the moment. They offer kindly, help isn’t something Dogteeth liked accepting lately. Nor attention.

" how about we just look for shiny rocks and weave our fur? I can’t fish right now and all the minnows seem to favor the other bank so… " he offers with a dull smile, it’s obvious he’s bothered for his eyes meet olivine quite distantly. " It sounds silly- I know. It brings me…. peace?" he questions the final word with a shrug.

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OOC INFO REF

• —
  
  
• — Dogteeth
  — twenty-five moons
  — 2023 VOICE & ACCENT
  — warrior of Riverclan
  — gay | crushing on n/a
  — small curly-furred blonde and tan tom with blue eyes.
  — very gentle soul / easily upset and sensitive
  — deals a nasty bite
  BIOGRAPHY——— ✧
  
• 
  
  

​

 

[WOLFGLADE]

જ➶ They watch as the other seems to trip over words. Not remembering rather they had seen Beesong recently or some time ago. His face doesn't change expression as he watches knowing he can not make the other see the medicine cat. They know if it is serious he will make sure to keep an eye on it. One can not shirk their health. Still they do find it puzzling at the lapse and they allow the faintest of frowns to flick across liquor black lips. Then a sigh finally breaks from them as he hears what seems to be a defeated tone. Wounds...have different effects on others. Remember this. Lightly he lifts a paw and flicks it against the ground. "It...it doesn't look that bad. I've seen worse, so keep your chin up." There, to them, is beauty in the marred. A strength in those willing to out themselves over others to protect them. To him it speaks of bravery even when forced to make decisions others can not. With a flick of his tail he seems taken aback by what Dog asks of them.

"Uh..." It makes them hesitate as they debate on just what is proposed. Looking for shiny rocks and weave their fur? Two things he has never given an ounce of thought to as fun or even an activity that exists. They glance away, trying to think before rising to their paws. "Okay..we can do that but um....I've never woven before." Their eyes narrow for a moment before he shrugs his shoulders a little. "Do you look for luster in the rocks? Or color?"​

 

[DogTeeth]

They’d seen worse, is said, he’s implored to keep his confidence up but Dogteeth wavers emotionally like the bough of a willow. " Oh-… yeah…Beesong " he whispers low, in remembrance with a soft flinch. A sudden guilt and sympathy swallowing him a bit. " you’re right though " he decides with a sight before moving further down the bank and digging at the surface with a push.

A breathy butterfly laugh escapes his maw as the dark furred warrior asks what sort of rocks to look for, almost like it’s a task. He turns, face crinkled into a smile that ached in his cheek but gleamed like fish scales nonetheless. " well- uh… whatever you think is pretty… or just beautiful. It doesn’t have to shine to be pretty! or even have color. Look-" he digs out what he thinks is quite possibly the ugliest rock in the world.

" oh-… whoops, acorn. " he chuckles, and kicks it toward the other a bit playfully. " never weaved?! with fur like that? stars bless… if I don’t weave or claw some of mine- rats will start nesting " he’s distracted from his depressed thoughts.

​

OOC INFO REF

• —
  
  
• — Dogteeth
  — twenty-five moons
  — 2023 VOICE & ACCENT
  — warrior of Riverclan
  — gay | crushing on n/a
  — small curly-furred blonde and tan tom with blue eyes.
  — very gentle soul / easily upset and sensitive
  — deals a nasty bite
  BIOGRAPHY——— ✧
  
• 
  
  

​

 

[WOLFGLADE]

જ➶ With the mention of Beesong and the way he acts they can only assume something of note has happened between them. But he isn't one to pry in business that is not their own. So he keeps all questions that try to come forth pushed down. Instead they simply nod in conformation that they are indeed right. It doesn't help to dwell on something uncontrollable and that wound there isn't going to go away. It'll leave marks but that isn't the worst of it and he can surely move on, right? He doesn't think his visage looks worse because of it. Slowly they blink olive eyes as the other laughs andsuch a light and fluffy thing it is. It sounds...like bells. Makes his ears move forward as if to catch the lingering sound. What? Slowly they pull their eyes from the other and looks down as the acorn flips and knocks into their leg. For a moment he doesn't speak and then he sort of deflates with a sigh. "I suppose an acorn can be pretty too? Although I do have to say it's not up to par with some of the rocks around here." There like the twinkle of a firefly there is sparkle of amusement in their gaze before it disappears.

Rolling the the acorn underneath his paws he softly snorts. "Really? I never have that issue. I mean I groom my pelt from time to time but it's a hassle to deal with it all the time." Between water, and muck, and algae they sometimes just let it go to the wayside. Suddenly an idea sparks and he casually rolls the acorn towards the other before starting to dig gently at the ground, looking for a stone to call his own. "I can weave your fur and you can do mine? I know of some nice...flowers nearby that I think will look decent in your fur." Pretty is the word they wanted to say but they snuffed it. Suddenly he rolls a dirty stone from the soil and rolls it in the water. It is a pink color and they sniff at it a good one? He questioningly looks at Dogteeth for confirmation, like he needs that. ​