never ending nights — aching joints

[DUSKPOOL]

anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

He breathed steadily through a parted maw, watching his patrol slip by as he came to an aching stop, limbs quivering under the building weight, pot bubbling over until it spilled, and then came the unavoidable crash that had become his battered flank. His face contorted into a grimace, head pulling away before they could catch the emotion like a kit being caught red-handed. The depths of his hues swirled uncomfortably, staring at the bark of a pine tree he stood against, subconsciously leaning into it, bracing most of his weight against it.

His teeth sunk into supple flesh, suppressing a grunt of pain that pulsated beneath haggard skin, marred from moons’ worth of battles, old injuries sore and throbbing. He’d gotten used to the daily aches, inflamed and in need of something to quell the ongoing pain he felt throughout leaf-bare, but found it within himself to ignore. He wasn’t injured, bleeding like the various times he was, resting in the medicine den with a prickling pelt, itching to get out and work.

Not now. He had promised, but even that had him reeling, stubborn as he was, Duskpool breathed shakily, drawn out before taking another slow, agonizing breath. He had been alright during the morning, wooly tail sweeping the cold ground, muzzle wrinkling.

It wasn’t preventable, the aching joints and bubbling soreness that came in pulsating waves threaded into his very being of shredded skin. His fur helped shield him from the worst, but the cold eased into warm skin and seeped into broken bones. His forearm throbbed, held just above the ground with a flick of his mangled ear, staring at the barely noticeable crook of bone that hadn’t healed right. Damnit. He grunted, shaking himself out of his stupor, unaware if the hunting patrol had stopped or continued. ​

​

thought speech​

 

[Cherryblossom]

In Cherrypaw's jaws dangles a thrush, plump-looking with its puffed-up feathers but scrawny beneath. It's not the best catch in the world, but it would be another morsel on the fresh-kill pile today, and that meant a greater chance of finally satiating her stomach. She scrambles headfirst down the tree, having recently mastered the skill of doing so and eager to show it off. Pale paws barely scrape the trunk on her descent, tail streaming behind her like a squirrel, and she hits the earth with a satisfying 'poof' of snow.

The patrol's just ahead of her; she'd momentarily broken off to pursue easy prey. The large, ungainly shadow hovering between them and lurching into a trunk is unmissable though. "Ohhhhhh my starsss, guys stop! Duskpool's at it againnnnn," Cherrypaw calls, stopping dramatically in her tracks next to the warrior.

Sunkissed eyes rove over him with undisguised scrutiny, half-pitying the state of what seems to have once been a great fighter, half-annoyed at the pause in what was a shaping up to be a successful hunt for her. She wasn't one of the legions of his adopted children, but she's at least noticed the various states of disarray he stumbles back to camp in nearly every single moon. Hazelbeam's attraction to such a weathered sight would forever be a mystery for the ages. "Are you okay? Do you want me to, like, help you back to camp?" Telling him he was a mouse-brain for going out at all would only lead to cuffing from @SLATE . This was the least she could do, having already caught something.​

 

[Sorrelsong]

𓆝 . ° ✦ So dramatic The molly frowned at Cherrypaws shrill call, but worry for her brother quickly over took her thoughts.
Her first thought is to drop everything and rush to his side and comfort him. After a paw step, she grimiced at herself. Duskpool hated pity as much as he hated attention. Readjusting her grip on the mouse in her mouth, the chocolate smoke's tail flicked dismissivly at the apprentice.
Teeth sinking into her mouse out of nervousness, she mauled over what to say. Why had he stopped?
"Hes fine." She told the apprentice, unable to keep the annoyance out of her voice. Hoping the mouse disguised it, she contuined. "Just pausing to taste the air. Probably sensed something good. Or big." A rogue? Fear pulsed through her.

✧　°　.　✶　.　°　✧​

ooc Information

• ooc: —
• 

  CIRCE— SHE/HER･ 37 MOONS ･ WARRIOR IN TRAINING & SKY CLAN･ PENNED BY @KEEEKEEEY!

  Once a rather pretty brown smoked molly, Circe is unnaturally lithe and is missing large chunks of her fur. She has an oddly muscular and feminie build and small paws. — physically easy && mentally easy — Attempting to learn Sky Clan's ways — NPC x NPC : Sibling to Duskpool, Shadowfire and Smokefang

​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

Whether Slate will give his apprentice a cuff or not, Blazestar gives her what he hopes is a stern look through half-narrowed blue eyes as Cherrypaw bemoans Duskpool’s halting. The Ragdoll flicks his tail out behind him so that it flickers like golden flame; his own steps come to a pause beside the hulking black-and-white warrior and his sister. “We can rest for a few heartbeats. The rest of you, go on. Bellies still need to be filled.” He looks at Cherrypaw pointedly, for although the she-cat had been a little rude, she had a point. Duskpool’s unseen injuries were slowing the patrol down, but there were enough of them to split up if needed.

He flicks his blue gaze toward Duskpool, concern darkening the corners. “Can you make it back to camp? You should get looked at. I won’t take no for an answer, Duskpool.” He shares a glance with Circe, hoping she will back him up. There’s no blood, no obvious scent of injured flesh or bone, but it’s clear the hulking warrior is in pain that he’s likely ignored for too long.

, ”​

​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Molten hues narrowed, staring at Cherrypaw with a neutral expression, save for the subtle sharpness that came with halting the entire group to make a scene and scare the last bit of prey in their vicinity. His joints ached, sparking unwelcoming twinges of annoyance, otherwise remaining buried beneath a look of pained indifference against a scarred snout.

Wordlessly, Duskpool remained silent, characteristically so, mangled ears swerving toward Circe, giving a curt nod. He was fine. Duskpool was obstinate. The usual burning tiredness behind his hues wasn’t prominent since his collapse, nor was the aching tiredness that weighed over him like a weighted blanket. He breathed idly, shaking himself out with a quiet grunt, shifting his crooked limb subtly to ease the throbbing. “Ain’t need to stop for this fool.” He grunted, brow raising. “Just needed a second to myself.” He grunted, wooly tail twitching, brushing against the rough bark.

At Blazestar’s admission, Duskpool’s ears flickered. “Ain’t anythin’ he can do.” He commented, pressing his entire weight against his aching limb, mangled ears swiveling at the dull throb, paired with the rest of his bulky frame that buzzed beneath wooly fur. “Nothin’ more than ghosts.” He rumbled after a drawn-out breath, molten hues narrowing in disdain. “I’ll be fine here in a second.” He repeated, tone deadpan but tinged with unresolved firmness. ​

​

thought speech​

 

[Sorrelsong]

𓆝 . ° ✦ So not rogues. She felt a little silly as the truth of the situation came to her. He's just old.
She watched her brother's eyes. As unexpressive as he was, or tried to be, she'd learned that his molten hues were a dead give away to whatever he was feeling. A shiver ran through her as she sensed her brother's annoyance at Cheerypaw. Thought it was shared, she almost felt sorry for the kit. Duskpool had a stern streak to him, and time had only made it more so. She remembered being on the receiving end of that glare after one the pranks she and Shadowfire pulled...
She blinked, acknowledging her leader with a dip of her head before Duskpool opened his maw. A small, playful smile played on her lips at his disregaurd for Blazestar's orders. He would never change, would he? She shifted uneasily on her paws a second after that, however. Would her smiling at him count as disobeying the leader? Would that prevent her from being a warrior? From being accepted?
She glanced at Duskpool. Despite the height her stomach dropped from, he was worth it. But Blazestar's questions did dig under her skin, planting roots of concern for her steadfast and stubbron battle-worn brother.
She flicked her ear, blinking softly at the tom but she was careful not to take pity on him.
"Pretty big ghosts." She commented, placing her mouse down and shaking out a paw she'd been favoring for a bit after it picked up a small thorn eariler that morning. "Unlucky for us, Fireflypaw isn't a ghost-talker, huh?"
She sat like is was all she had been wanting to do, then turned her head to Blazestar. Uncertain with how to address him mixed with the softer certainty of her little plan, making her glance at him, hold his gaze for a second then look away only to glance at him again a few heartbeats later.
"I could use a sit too. Go on ahead, we'll be fine. " She would then wait a little bit to ask Duskpool to help her bring some freshkill back to the camp, and hope that it wasn't too obvious what she was doing.

✧　°　.　✶　.　°　✧​

ooc Information

• ooc: — Bby is so afraid of conflict but also wants to do right by her bro lol She's trying her best to diffuse the situation, idk if she's very good at it. Take it however you want :)
• 
  
  

  CIRCE— SHE/HER･ 37 MOONS ･ WARRIOR IN TRAINING & SKY CLAN･ PENNED BY @KEEEKEEEY!

  Once a rather pretty brown smoked molly, Circe is unnaturally lithe and is missing large chunks of her fur. She has an oddly muscular and feminie build and small paws. — physically easy && mentally easy — Attempting to learn Sky Clan's ways — NPC x NPC : Sibling to Duskpool, Shadowfire and Smokefang

​