camp LIFE IS A HIGHWAY —— reintroduction

BUCKFIRE

god knows i'ma crash and burn
Jul 23, 2024
56
4
8
Two weeks had felt like an eternity for the thrill-chasing tom cat. Buck hadn't kept track of how many times he had watched the sun rise and fall behind the horizon. The Badger Set was stuffy, smelling of sickly felines and nauseatingly fragrant herbs. The makeshift nest that had been provided to him made his back sore and the sight of the same stretch of moors was ingrained into his brain at this point. Even the prey tasted bland, but then again, his senses had been pretty diminished as a result of the sickness.

The lungwort had worked its magic, as promised, and Buck had finally managed the strength to leave the Badger Set. Confidently and brimming with eagerness, he strides back into camp — he still cannot believe that he gets to call this place home. Buck wondered if he'd eventually miss the aroma of wood and fresh hay, but so far, he was more than relieved to be able to return to the hollow. Aside from his weakened muscles and aching back, Buck was feeling as healthy as ever. After filling his lungs with a long inhale of fresh moorland air, Buck inquired aloud to some nearby clanmates, "What did I miss? Nothin' exciting, I hope." Surely he would have heard about something major happening in his absence, no?

  • 86417735_kGin7DEMi2EjrP5.png
  • 86417925_7c5WxVdny06oqof.png
    a new warrior of windclan, buck is thirty-one moons. he is a ruggedly handsome tom, sporting lean muscle and a slightly taller-than-average stature. there is a nick in his left ear as well as a small scratch on his right lip. he smells of cotton grass and gorse. 
 
Tigersting approaches newcomers to Windclan with outward suspicion she believes her father cannot express as leader. She does not mind voicing the opinions she believes others cannot, taking the brunt of the any dismay for being so blunt. Sure, she could see the reluctance of Sunstar to welcome those from outside of their moor home... but surely he could turn them away or burden the barncats with an extra mouth? At least those cats get fat on the mice that call the barn their home too.

Windclan is not cruel like their turncoat counterparts, unlike Duskclan they can (however reluctantly) thank a stranger for acts of selflessness. Their thanks are plentiful: her ðir dresses this strangers wounds, is allowed to remain in camp for a period of time, and once more Wolfsong must spare his herbs once more for him; twice now her dear Wolfsong has saved the rugged tom from precarious circumstances. It is not as though Tigersting wishes Buck succumbed to the fox attack or yellowcough, she is just rather frustrated by the current environment of Windclan; it was easy to turn the anger she feels into annoyance directed at Buck. But Tigersting sees potential in the lean tom to become a good warrior, another set of claws against the seemingly countless enemies surrounding Windclan and permeating from within. And so it is because of the potential she spies that forces Tigersting to begrudgingly set aside any preconceived notions about Buck.

"Well, let me think..." Tigersting draws a creamy paw over ear and sighs thoughtfully, a tentative frown sprawling across her reddish features. "I suppose a lot has happened... Rattleheart, I am not sure if you met him, was killed saving a Riverclan apprentice, by a bird. Prior to that, Orangestar- Skyclan's leader, sure ya knew that- had been found... how do you say? Incapacitated by a dog..." She turns a wistful gaze to a neighbor, inviting the feline besides her to continue catching Buck up. Of course, Tigersting had wished to tell Buck about the most shocking news he had likely missed. Before allowing any others to sweet, however, Tigersting remarks, "So, exciting... Yes?"
 

Dimmingsun had not realized just how many cats had gotten ill — hadn't took note of it right up until the previously ill cats start pour right back into WindClan's camp. It paints the unfinished corners of home into something vivid again... and at the same time, acts as a grim reminder of just how many cats they could have lost. How all of these cats managed to fit into the badger set is beyond him. Once again, he finds himself sending a silent prayer up to the stars for keeping him healthy this time around.

"Ready to get back into the fray?" he asks with mirth, bounding up to Buck. That rugged face is still rather unfamiliar, courtesy of having been welcomed into the Clan's ranks just a moon prior, but Dimmingsun is confident he will fit right in. Lead warrior or not, he is a simple tom; a bit of handsomeness goes a long way to win his heart over.

Tigersting mentions tragedy without a blink of an eye. Dimmingsun manages to avoid flinching, but the edge of his smile twitches, remembering the heroic but no less painful departure of Rattleheart. It is still a bit impossible to believe. "You make it sound like only bad things happen around here." And despite it, he finds it difficult to say anything else... no good news find their way onto his tongue. He desperately hopes to hide that stumble by busying himself by flattening an imaginary tuft into smoothness.

"Now that all of you are starting to recover, we should have it even better. I'm sure your muscles are achin' for some exercise, too?" Dimmingsun opts for the next best thing; draws focus right back around and onto Buck again.
 
Buck hadn't known what to expect, whether to be regaled with lighthearted happenings or informed of grave news, but the younger warrior's rather serious string of news caused the smirk plastered across his tan maw to falter. Despite the unserious and reckless persona Buck possessed, he was not above sympathy where it was due. "That must've been a hard way to go out. Dogs are stupid, but they're killers. Gettin' caught in between their teeth is real unlucky." Hell, the nick in Buck's ear had been trapped between the jowls of a hound. He was lucky that he had escaped with that and nothing else. " 'n I'm sorry to hear about your friend." The tom acknowledges the passing of the WindClanner, and although he hadn't known them, it sounded as if they had died a hero's death. Death was something that Buck had tangoed with a few times in his life, each time sidestepping a meeting with the devil. It was all too real and was a consequence that he could very well reap if he wasn't careful, but Buck didn't want to be careful. He would die someday, as would everyone else. It was something he had accepted a long time ago and something that he wouldn't let prevent him from living his life to the fullest.

The lead warrior's arrival brought forth a lot more merriment than the other brown tabby had, and even he is quick to comment on how she had only discussed bad news. Buck couldn't quite remember this one's name; there were a lot of cats in this clan, after all, but he appreciated his energy nonetheless. "There ain't nothin' that sounds better." The new addition drawls in response to Dimmingsun's last inquiry, giving a roll of his stiff shoulders as he's reminded of them.

Not only was Buck itching to partake in some action for the first time in half a moon, but he was eager for more as well. "Y'all helped me out when you had no real obligation to." The brown tabby begins, an unusual sincerity glistening in his molten eyes. " 'm not sure what my fate would've been without Wolfsong's help. I might've..." Buck trails off, perhaps not willing nor ready to admit how diminished he had been while in the Badger Set. From what he had heard, Yellowcough was deadly if not treated properly. He surely wouldn't have survived without the medicine cats' knowledge. "Well, anyway. WindClan has my gratitude. I wanna start trainin' for real now." In other words, he wanted to be a full warrior of WindClan no matter what it took. Were they still willing to take a chance on him?

  • 86417925_7c5WxVdny06oqof.png
    a new warrior of windclan, buck is thirty-one moons. he is a ruggedly handsome tom, sporting lean muscle and a slightly taller-than-average stature. there is a nick in his left ear as well as a small scratch on his right lip. he smells of cotton grass and gorse.