private like the wind, it covers our land [peri]

[GRAVELSNAP]

WindClan just can’t seem to win lately, Gravelsnap thinks. First they’d lost to ShadowClan, and Sootstar had lost another of her lives. Does the leader fear death, he wonders. Does she see anything on the other side, any confirmation that StarClan is real? Does she resent that force which granted her such deathless deaths, or does she thank them each time she returns to life? He wonders about a lot of things. But that wondering stopped immediately when a WindClan patrol had returned to camp, speaking of an attack. A RiverClan ambush, holding Cottonpaw hostage and drawing the patrol into a battle. RiverClan attacked with the intent to kill, he’d heard. With the intent to scar Cottonpaw, to send a message to Sootstar. Without any intent to let a single WindClanner on that patrol escape with their lives.

The reality hits him at the most inopportune time—while he’s lying in the dirt, sprawled under the high afternoon sun, hoping to pass the time before he has to go out on another long, hot, grueling patrol. Peri could have died. And the anguish that wracks him at that thought is truly unnerving. He doesn’t—listen, he doesn’t want Periwinklebreeze to die. But the thought of his own father dying doesn’t provoke such a visceral reaction. Neither does the thought of his mentor dying, and upon the patrol’s return to WindClan Gravelsnap had truly believed that Houndthistle was about to keel over and die right there. So why is Peri different?

They’re not even friends, right? Or they’re only friends sometimes, when Firefang isn’t around. Is it friendship if it’s kept secret? Is it still considered a kept secret if Peri has given him a gift that he keeps in a safe, hidden space so it won’t get lost or mixed in with his regular battle-rocks? Is it considered a kept secret if he cheered for his friend as they received their warrior name, even when very few other voices joined in? Is it considered a kept secret if he sat by their side in the den of a healer who he despises, just to see for himself that they were going to wake up?

Groaning aloud, the tom rolls over until his face is pressed into the dirt. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stars help me, I’m absolutely hopeless. He rubs his nose into the ground below for a few moments, and then lets out a great heaving breath. "Shit," he grunts, dragging himself dramatically to his feet. It’s time to get to work.

---

Hours later, after his sun-soaked, wind-blown, hare-brained expedition to whatever border the patrol leader had decided upon, Gravelsnap returns to camp with a gift. It’s tucked between teeth that, for once, are gentle, and it isn’t a rock. They have too many rocks already; they cannot risk it looking as though they’ve simply pulled one from their collection. He strides through the camp with purpose, though, long strides that fall just short of a run.

His head pokes into Vulturemask’s den, and for a moment his nose wrinkles at the scent. Somehow, it even smells of treachery in here. But he isn’t here to spy on the healer, or investigate possibly traitorous cats. He’s here for…

Hazel eyes settle upon a black and white form, and he sucks in a breath of relief. He’d known they weren’t dead, but hearing it and seeing it for himself are two separate things. They look horrible, though—as though death could have claimed them easily, if it had so wished. He ignores the way his heart lurches at the thought. Instead, the black and white warrior marched straight up to Periwinklebreeze, looking down on them with anger that, for once, isn’t directed at them.

He gently places his gift before his friend, tail lashing behind him. His eyes are hard, narrowed and alight with fury. "Who did this to you," he says, and it isn’t a question. What RiverClan scum does he need to claw to shreds? Even if Periwinklebreeze doesn’t respond, the tom will gesture to the flowers that he’s laid at the paws of his friend. "I got you these as a get-well gift. So you have to get better soon." Once again, it isn’t stated as a question. It’s a demand, silent as it may be, and Gravelsnap hopes the other will follow it.

They gesture with their black-capped paw to the flowers. "They’re daisies. Bluepaw said that darker would look better, but I could only find white."


// @Periwinklebreeze.​

[ you put the fun into dysfunction ]​

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[Periwinklebreeze.]

❀​❀ I FEEL SCARED AND I'M STARTING TO SINK ❀❀​
periwinklebreeze | 11 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically medium (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff

---

With an aching body and weary mind, its hard for peri to do much of anything, injured as he is. The battle flashes through his mind as though played on loop - over and over again. No matter how he looks at it, hyacinth had still tried to interfere, tried to save him, even after telling him he didn't need to worry about her - that she'd suffer her own consequences for her own actions. That he could - and was - part of windclan.

Whoever the brown furred feline had been, their battle and motives had seemed personal. The fury, the dedication - clayfur had truly wanted to end peri's life then and there. A shudder wracks his frame as his wounds ache with phantom pains - an reminder that he'd survived.

Gravelsnaps presence is a relief to the boy, toxic and twisting are his spiraling thoughts. "I... d-don't know. A brown t-tom - a lot older th-than us," he's not always good with faces, but he's certain he'd never even said a word to the riverclanner before that day. "h-he s-seemed... he wanted me d-dead. like it was p-p-personal,"

Something his mother had done? Or just... windclan as a whole. He doesn't know - will he ever know?

Pale gaze is drawn to the offering, softening with warmth and fondness. A similar scenario had played out once upon a time, hadn't it- nighty concerned that he'd be lonely inside the medicine den, the only one of the trio to not yet get his apprentice name. The one left behind. "Th-thank you... they're pretty.." he says softly, voice lilting softly.

And then that accursed name is mentioned, and something the boy usually ignores rages in him - he doesn't get why his friend likes bluepaw, she's just an annoying child - hadn't he said he didn't like kits? But... the flowers are pretty nonetheless, and he can't bring himself to discard it, despite the annoyed narrowing of his eyes and irritable lashing of his tail, paws gently and carefully cradling the blooms between them. "I l-like these ones b-better anyways.." it sounds petulant to his own ears, but he rationalizes that its fine - he's hurt after all, had nearly died.


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[GRAVELSNAP]

The other black and white warrior looks up as he enters the den, and Gravelsnap suppresses a too-eager smile. Now that they are aware of their own unfortunate feelings, each action feels much more meaningful. Each shift of their expression feels more telling. But Periwinklebreeze looks happy to receive their gift, and warmth fills their chest. Their gift is a good one, their friend likes the flowers. But their face immediately falls once the other tom explains which vile RiverClanner had attacked him. "I’ll kill him," Gravelsnap vows, sifting through memories of RiverClan patrols met at the border. An older brown tom. He will remember that description, when next he sees the other clan’s warriors.

Houndthistle has always advised against fighting merely for vengeance, but surely this is different. This isn’t for Gravelsnap. This is for their friend. For Peri, who nearly died, who that RiverClan scum definitely wanted to kill. It seemed personal, he says; attacking Peri might have been that RiverClanner’s vengeance. And perhaps it’s deserved, if that warrior loses everything in return. But Periwinklebreeze seems to enjoy their gift, and that’s the important part. They’re pretty, he says, and Gravelsnap wants to add more to the sentence, wants to untangle the mass of emotion that’s gathered in their chest and spill it all over the medicine den floor.

But they cannot spill their feelings now, not when Peri is so injured. And then their friend’s body language shifts to annoyed, after they mention Bluepaw’s thoughts on the flowers. Does Peri not like Bluepaw? Both younger cats are their friends; Gravelsnap wonders if they’ve somehow missed some kind of divide between the two. The black-pointed cat asserts that they like the white flowers better, but there’s something wrong with their voice. Hazel eyes narrow, just slightly. "Is something wrong," they ask, dark tail lashing. Have they made a mistake? "I thought you liked Bluepaw." Their voice isn’t accusatory, but concerned; they want to move closer, they want to offer their friend comfort in some way. They stretch a black-patched paw forth, only to draw it back after a moment.​

[ you put the fun into dysfunction ]​

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[Periwinklebreeze.]

❀​❀ I FEEL SCARED AND I'M STARTING TO SINK ❀❀​
periwinklebreeze | 12 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically medium (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff

---

Gravelsnaps words would've once horrified him - the just thought of violence, of bloodshed, enough to churn his stomach. But while there's still an unpleasant twinge of discomfort, he feels only assurance - finds only comfort. A sick sense of satisfaction at the fact somebody cares enough to kill for him - to seek vengeance on his behalf. Eyes flutter shut to hide the pleased look he's certain he's sporting, features shuttering as he regains control of his emotions a heartbeat later.

Blackened paws begin the process of carefully weaving the offered blooms into his tail fur as he listens to his friends words, only to pause. It seems the other warrior is not completely oblivious to his upset - that h has not been careful enough to hide his growing disdain. He hesitates for a moment, trying to puzzle out the correct words to say about the child of their not-so-benevolent leader and her mate, before simply giving up and giving in to that vicious voice in his heart. "Sh-she's tolerable at b-b-best," he says, throwing back the phrase gravelsnap had once used himself.

Petty though it may be, he no longer cares for the younger she-cat - and it's not as though she's done anything to endear herself to him anyways, unlike some of her siblings. "How are th-thing-s in the t-territory?" he says in a rather lackluster attempt to change to topic of conversation, voice returning to its normal state.
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