camp remembrance — bringing prey [ pafp ]

[DUSKPOOL]

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

He figured it was long overdue thanks for dealin’ with his stubborn ass for all these moons gettin’ injured with no real consequence than the canvas of scars littered across a bulky frame. His inability to remain well for long periods, old injuries borderline numb and oozing something painful when the cold draft burrowed itself into his wooly fur.

His breath fogged around the piece of freshkill he grabbed from the prey pile, trapped between his jaws. He figured the other could do this, bringing prey instead of having to fetch it himself. His tail swished low across the chilly ground, paw steps nearing the medicine den to smell the familiar scent of herbs. “Ya in here, Dawnglare?” He called after setting it down to nudge deeper into the den’s entrance, body halfway inside.

“Figured I’d bring ya somethin’ to eat for all that trouble.” He rumbled, jerking his chin toward the vole he found while nosin’ through the freshkill pile. That trouble, he figured was obvious, spendin’ more time in here than what he’d like to admit remained left unsaid.

/ please wait for @DAWNGLARE !​

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thought speech​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

An answering hum would find Duskpool. Reflex— for all the clan has asked for him at one point or another, whether they cared very much for each other or not. Perhaps it was an extra familiarity for Duskpool, on top of that. A repeat patient, and Dawnglare certainly did not know him enough to know why. Was it hubris? A battle prowess he believed would let him escape any situation unscathed, only for him to be proven wrong time and time again. Was it something else entirely? Sickness from too much sun, throwing yourself at something again and again simply because you could?

Blazestar had someone to tell him he was foolish, at least. Someone who would do so without a barbed tongue or threats. A... friend.

Were they friends, still?

...He supposes that Duskpool had Drizzlepelt for that, then... And why he's bothered to remember that fact is beyond himself, as well.

" Has it gotten worse? " he asks. It is not uncommon that cats come, speaking of aches and pains that had never quite gone away. The more batterings you've taken, the less you can take in the long run, after all. He wonders how long Duskpool would last. " You can— oh. " Food is what it was. No promise of extra work to come. No infection, nor fever or flu... Dawnglare would blink at the offering left. What a surprise this was.

Not that it was unwelcome. No, not in the slightest. Dawnglare would meet the tom at the maw of his den, and despite himself, he smiles. " I suppose you do owe me... " And imagine if they all treated him like this in exchange? What a lovely life, it would be...

Duskpool was still recovering, technically... His gaze lingers on the vole for a long moment. Enough for the smile to leave his maw, and for the tension to grow acutely awkward.

" Would you like to... shhhhhare? " he narrows his eyes as if he was not sure what he himself asked— and he truly was not. Dawnglare does not like sharing. He detests it, even; but ah... wasn't that all these skinny clan cats do when not walking in circles around the pine wood? Sit and eat and lick each others fur? Dawnglare would certainly not participate in the latter half of that, but perhaps he wouldn't mind the... other.

A WISE WOMAN SAID I'M ALIVE 🍷 NOBODY'S EVER TOLD HER SHE'S WRONG

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• ( I'M AS ALIVE AS HER BEARD IS LONG ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  𓆩♡𓆪 He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  𓆩♡𓆪 Currently 60 moons old as of 12.05.23. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

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

A breath slipped past unclenched teeth, barely more than a half-hearted chuckle. “Ain’t gotten any worse.” He commented with a lazy swish of his tail, not denying, nor agreeing. Troublesome, but easily manageable, long before he stepped paw in SkyClan territory.

He rumbled, low and even, mangled ear swerving. “Ya got a favorite?” He commented casually, glancing at the other, brow raised in subtle inquiry. It wasn’t anything special, merely curious since really Duskpool owed him, several times, actually. And undoubtedly more, given his unfortunate track record, but since then, the smokey warrior wanted to do better, and spending less time in the medicine den seemed like a good pick.

He nearly snorted at the awkwardness, uncertain in his words did Duskpool shake his helm. “Brought it for ya.” He rumbled, glancing down at the vole with a subtle twitch of marred lips. ​

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thought speech​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Dismissive is what the answer was, but Dawnglare would not care any more than the patient themselves does. It is easier conversation than Dawnglare is used to, with questions offered not needing any guise of skepticism. Questions about him. No blood or bones; bumps or bruises... He is partial to the topic, rather unsurprisingly. To place a favorite sees that he is brought back home... Past the walls crafted by twolegs and the rows of herbs he so often sticks his nose into. It's been long— too long, since he has been able to go past that. He pictures bright pelts stuffed with cotton and quiet, burning flame.

" My favorite is far from here, " he says, a dreamy note lilting in his voice. He remembers furless paws digging into his skull; heavenly aroma wafting from a multicolored tin... It would be the very same time each and every day. One he waited upon with a great fondness, from his youth until...

...His first bite of prey had been rather inconsequential. Perhaps he recalls, it being ebtter than he'd imagined; but it had not been right. It warmed his tongue in all the wrong ways and took far too much effort to pick clean, even if his teeth enjoyed the chase, at times. He saw it all as equally frustrating. Equally not that. A wistful breath sighs from his nose. Subtly is he brought to the present, the vole not what he wanted, but... something, nonetheless.

He lets himself smile, then. Duskpool— he finds that he did not dislike so much. No, he did not. He has crescents for eyes when he says, with the beginnings of a giggle, " ...Me neither, " Yes, he could certainly appreciate one like this...

A WISE WOMAN SAID I'M ALIVE 🍷 NOBODY'S EVER TOLD HER SHE'S WRONG

• 
  
  

• 

• ( I'M AS ALIVE AS HER BEARD IS LONG ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  𓆩♡𓆪 He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  𓆩♡𓆪 Currently 60 moons old as of 1.1.24. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

​