camp NEW MOON | rta, leaving the meddie den

[SILVERSMOKE]

Being confined to one place and away from his duties had given Silversmoke time to think and the succinct conclusion he'd come to was that he could've died. The fact repeated in his head like a broken record, and the subsequent visitors who joked about his luck had done little to dissuade that thinking pattern. Each day spent curled up in that den felt like his last, the worry that the venom could've spread further than his leg gnawing away at his sense of time to the point where he was certain he'd spent a moon cooped up with Dawnglare and Fireflypaw. Silversmoke was glad Sorrelsong hadn't been bit, but he wished he'd been faster pushing her, or that he'd noticed the threat sooner before it became so agitated. It had always seemed so easy to die for one's home until faced with a slow death at the fangs of an adder... until his fate was controlled by StarClan instead of his own choices. They hadn't been a promising friend, not after the sun was swallowed in what he could only presume to be an act made by disappointment. He didn't know what had upset them, and thank goodness for that; he wasn't ready to join them yet.

Light pushed through weaves in the medicine cat's den, warming minuscule spots on the tabby's coat. 'Is it warm in StarClan?' The stars had always seemed... cold, faraway even, yet he'd heard so many tales about the afterlife being a paradise that the Lead Warrior doubted his judgment. No sooner did the thought arise, than Silversmoke's black claws sunk into the well-worn bedding below. 'Ugh, none of this is helpful.' Thoughts of death, thoughts of life after death, none of it helped his clan, it only hindered himself. Even knowing that, the nagging feeling was still there in the back of his mind, begging him to think of mortality before he did something that could not be reversed. With a heave and a big stretch, the maine coon hybrid rose to his feet. Shifting towards the exit on limbs stiff from bedrest, the Lead Warrior's eyes quickly adjusted to the day as he left the saw the camp again for the first time in a week. Kittens played outside, elders groomed each other while sharing stories, and apprentices and warriors performed their duties. He blinked blearily, finding the sun in the sky. 'I've missed dawn patrols.'

Somehow, that felt just as criminal as dying with unfinished business. Finding his footing as he slowly moved forwards, Silversmoke approached the first cat who didn't have their paws full. Upon his leg were two fresh scars, tiny punctures, but permanent reminders of what he'd almost sacrificed for another. His face was taciturn with the thought of keeping himself busy. "What needs doing?"


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[Chickbloom]

Eggshell had hardly slept since Silversmoke had been bitten. Well the skittish Scottish Fold hardly slept anyway, but this felt worse. Usually the fitfulness of his rest came from ridiculous hypotheticals: what if a tree fell on him? What if Blazestar came back as a vengeful, haunting spirit? What if the prey rose up, and swarms of squirrels and sparrows attacked Skyclan camp?

Now, though, each night was punctuated with the vision of Silversmoke’s body, still and silent. Each morning on the walk to camp, Eggshell expected to enter and find wails of grief filling the air. The boy hated it, and yolk-stained paws had sprinted to camp more than a few times when anxiety was overwhelming to find out if Silversmoke’s fate was secure.

The ball of nerves was sitting near the medicine den, idly fiddling with shoots of grass to try and take his mind off the stress. He was so in his own mind that when Silversmoke’s voice sounded beside him, the boy briefly thought he’d been contacted from beyond the grave.

“Oh-“ Amber eyes went wide with relief at the sight of the warrior, stern as ever. There was a lot he wanted to say, but the boy couldn’t get the words out. Of course his gaze gravitated towards the other’s leg, but he tried (and failed) to keep it discreet. “Uh, um - there’s some s-sticks and leaves around c-camp. I guess we could…c-clean up?” It was light work, and intentionally so. Eggshell’s suggestion wasn’t meant as a slight, he was simply treating Silversmoke how he would want to be treated. Of course that came with an over-abundance of caution, acting like the other had one paw in the grave. That would be considerate for the cowardly kittypet, but condescending for the stern warrior.​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Twitchbolt knew well by now that Silversmoke was a tireless soul, even after getting bitten by an adder. To see the silver tom immediately seeking work wasn't surprising, and the scruffy tom was reminded of admiring him in apprenticeship- and knowing now that, despite the things they disagreed on, he could always have faith in Silversmoke to care for SkyClan in his own gruff, serious manner. Instinctively (though he was not a medicine cat, and couldn't do it accurately), Twitchbolt's gaze studied th tuft-eared tom. An adder bite was a nasty thing- he could imagine, anyway, for he'd always avoided them in skittering principle.

"Feeling better, then?" Twitchbolt gave a little joke- soft-spoken and meant to be anything but mocking, voice aquiver but otherwise kind. Eggshell's suggestion was one he could not imagine would satisfy Silversmoke much, and wasn't given with very much convistion, but in truth there was very little to do. "Um- yeah, patrols have already gone out... I'll be taking out a hunting patrol later, though?"

It was already a pretty populated one, but... extra paws catching food certainly wouldn't hurt.​

penned by pin ✧​