pafp SAID THE THIEF TO THE MOON | pafp

[ThistleBack]

He could swear steam rolled off his shoulders with how deeply they throbbed, he rolls them with an exaggerated swing every few paw steps as he heads to the warrior’s den. Lacking sleep, his eyes are rimmed red but his limbs did not deviate from course in the way someone as sleepy as he might. Fortunately, his pains kept him quite awake.

The camp was still dimly lit as the sun had yet to peer through the pines, the pinks of dawn shatter the sky above. " Batscreech " silvery eyes glint with malice though not intended, he had a colorless stare that had a coldness only sedated briefly by a blink. " rise and shine " he charms the quiet with his harsh chuckle. He had given Teeveepaw the morning off so that he could focus on his latest assignment. The mouthy small brown cat, opinionated and passionately petty at times. Thistleback could see through it though, for the masking it was. What was the man masking? Thistleback suspected something either traumatic or stress. A natural emotionally combustible concoction. A wounded animal is one that bites afterall. Or maybe he was just an arrogant tempermental arse, either way- Thistleback welcomes the challenge.

" I will need to evaluate you on a few things. " his words are firm, he turns on his heel and expects the other to follow. Should they not, he readies himself to flip the other out of his nest, that which he was not opposed to- ask Quillstrike.

⛤ OOC INFORMATION REFERENCE ⛤

• — please wait for @Bat
  
  
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  forty-eight mns. EVENT TRACKER | IMPORTANT INFO
  — Former Lead warrior of Skyclan 12.22.22 - 06.2023
  — Father of Coyotecrest, Eveningsun and Scorpionpaw
  — mentoring Teeveepaw formerly Snowpath & Quillstrike
  — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes.
  — voice & accent
  — biography･ﾟ✧​
  OPEN for Dice battles | stine#3004
  
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[Batscreech]

Bat was in the middle of dreaming, and quite the welcoming one it was. Warm bodies pressed on all sides of him, the scent of home and individuals who encapsulated the very meaning of love and safety. Their voices echoed across the space, some of which were much more faded than others- he was not yet ready to admit that he was already beginning to forget little aspects of those who had slipped from his grasp the earliest. But one- the one which he begged every new dawn to forget, the one which he willed himself to be rid of for good- his voice reverberated at an intensity that drowned out every other. It was an insufferable crescendo, repeating his name over and over again, louder with each beat in between, the security brought on by the fabrication of those he missed suddenly dissipating until nothing but the cold and empty ache remained, consuming his soul and eating him alive-

Bat. Rise and shine.

It was no longer his voice.

I will need to evaluate you on a few things.

Thistleback's eyes cut through the darkened space that made up the entrance of the warriors den- not that Bat was a warrior yet, not technically, however he took up too much space in the apprentices den, therefore this would be his place of residence. Thistleback would not linger for long, already turning his ebony frame against Bat and walking with an unsteady yet stubbornly resilient gait. Bat had not known the brooding tom for long, however it was no mystery that he had quite the accumulation of scars- both internal and external. How strong did one need to be in order to come out of such an extensive string of battles with a heart still beating? Pain could rob the very soul of anyone in possession of one- was his still his own? Questions that would remain unanswered, however they would be speculated.

Bat hissed his show of contempt as he begrudgingly pulled himself from his untidy nest to his paws. He felt as though he weighed a river full of stones as he dragged himself across the camp in Thistlebacks wake. He couldn't keep his mind away from his dream- his chest seemed to throb as he lached desperately onto the best parts of it, not yet ready to let go, and yet it was already beginning to slip away again. Truthfully, he would never be ready. He would cry out to them forever in hopes that wherever they were now, they would hear him, and perhaps answer the hollowed call.

Stopping to shake himself off in an attempt to clear his head of a torrent of unwelcome thoughts, he turned to give his pelt a few swift licks to smooth out the worst of his furs matting from a restless slumber. "Right...An evaluation, yeh? Ace. Want me 't open me trap n' say 'ahhh'? Maybe lay belly-up n' let ya take a prod or two?" Sarcasm twisted every one of his words, a furrowed brow hanging heavily over slitted green orbs, a deep frown contorting his face.​

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