camp Simple Moments | grooming

[TIGERFROST]

Tags and Information

---

A week. A week since that raid. He has spent much of his recovery asleep, resting, dreaming, blissfully unaware of the outside world. Occasionally, thirst would drive him to his paws, send him to the sun-warmed pool for stolen moments of soothing solitude. Once or twice, he would even join a border patrol, if only to get some exercise, albeit not too much to re-open his wounds. Still, as time continues to pass, he only seems to hurt more. Sore, stiff-limbed, tired. Tigerfrost knows he's healing, knows his scabbed over wounds are slowly growing new skin. He wonders how bad the scars will be, new to cover the old, perhaps.

The morning is pleasant and warm, and he sits just outside the medicine den, mossy remnants of his nest still clinging to tangled, dusty hued fur. The Lead Warrior hasn't groomed in awhile, and he wonders just how messy his coat appeared to the rest of WindClan. At least I'm not covered in blood, Tigerfrost reasons with a flick of his tail against the dry soil.

Slowly, carefully, the tabby begins the slow process of cleansing his fur, running his barbed tongue through knots and tangles. Occasionally, he has to pause to avoid his wounds, tiredly combing through his own fur inch by inch, wherever he can reach. He doesn't expect to be disturbed, but he supposes it's bound to happen. Perhaps afterward, he could check up on Weaselclaw. That poor fool seemed to have been wounded just as badly, if not worse, than Tigerfrost himself. Along with Scorchstreak. It was quite amazing the three of them made it out of alive, and it was only through each other's coordination and team-work that they had lived at all. But, of course, Tigerfrost is much too prideful to admit such things. WindClan had won that fight, after all.

He wonders what will happen at the next gathering. Would Cicadastar even show up after his outburst at the last one? Would StarClan strike the great rock a second time? Perhaps they'd actually get to hear the other clan's news for once, although Tigerfrost isn't entirely certain he cares enough for anyone outside of WindClan.​

 

[icebreath]

TAGS — "Hi, Tigerfrost." The greeting is mumbled through a mouthful of freshkill, which she places down upon reaching the lead warrior. "Have you eaten?" Maybe he's capable of fetching his own meals at this point, and maybe this is a task she should assign to Cottonpaw, but here she is regardless. Sometimes she still has to fight the urge to go clear out the elders' den and nursery, even, though that's a lot sillier than tending to one of her superiors. Where's the harm in that? She thinks back to Sootstar's praise and the invitation to sit and even eat with her when Icebreath was an apprentice delivering prey to the leader, and the thought of similar reception in this instance keeps her around. He's different, though, more gruff and seeming less personable — so maybe their reward won't be the same. But either way, they want to show him how much they care. Being thanked by a superior is one of her favorite feelings.

They gaze upon his many wounds, grateful for the umpteenth time that they weren't selected for the raid. Scars are like trophies, hard-earned symbols of dedication and bravery; fighting for WindClan is an honor, especially in the name of vengeance for Juniperfrost. And yet her gut twists at the thought of being in Tigerfrost's position, who'd come home looking beaten half to death. Juniperfrost would scorn her for her reservations, she knows it. Maybe he can even read her thoughts now that he's in StarClan, knows how afraid she still is. The thought of disappointing him after she'd earned a smidge of his respect stings. "How's your recovery going?"
​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

Scorchstreak is grateful for Tigerfrost. He’d been invaluable in the raid against RiverClan, a powerful ally to have on WindClan’s side and a massive threat on the battlefield. The dark tabby had taken down one of the river cats’ lead warriors all on his own, and then leapt for Cicadastar despite being beaten half to death at that point.

To say she’s appreciative of the lead warrior’s effort would be an understatement. His actions had saved her life, and probably Weaselclaw’s as well. With a glance to Icebreath—the other tunneler hadn’t come with them to fight the water cats—she limps closer, blazing eyes dulled with pain and exhaustion. The blue-striped tunneler has already offered Tigerfrost a meal and asked of his recovery, so Scorchstreak gestures with her sore paw to the tom’s messy pelt. The tom is more wounded than herself, and she frowns as she watches him attempt to groom himself. "Do you need help with that?"
​

[ MONSTROUS WOMAN ]​

​

 

[TIGERFROST]

Tags and Information

---

A voice reaches his ears, a greeting, he realizes. The tom pauses, barbed tongue half out as shining eyes shift to find Icebreath. The tunneler, Tigerfrost thinks. Cottonpaw's mentor. He recalls when they were an apprentice themselves, along with the spitfire known as Firefang. How times had changed. She places food at his paws, and he can't help the flood or irritation. His tail flicks roughly against the warmed ground. I'm not helpless, Tigerfrost reminds himself bitterly. I can get my own food. But his clan-mate is only trying to help, this he understands, despite his grumpy demeanor. No doubt they had seen just how badly he had been injured, so perhaps WindClanners had a right to be concerned. Tigerfrost was not quite free of the woods yet, was he? Not while his wounds still healed, there was always the risk of infection, and that would very likely be his end.

"Thanks." The Lead Warrior finally responds, voice as gruff and flat as ever. They question his recovery, and Tigerfrost isn't entirely sure what the answer to that should be. He felt alright, other than the near constant pain of his slow-healing wounds. He wasn't feverish or ill-feeling, so he assumes he's recovering well. "Healing." Tigerfrost speaks, pauses a moment before he goes on, "No sign of infection." The tom is certainly no medicine cat, but his wounds smelled normal, and there was no swelling or heat that he could feel. "Another week and I'll probably be hunting again." He finishes, thoughtful. Snailpaw still needed to be trained, and there were plenty of hares to hunt down. Two weeks of recovery was quite long for most injured in that raid, but he knows himself, along with Weaselclaw and possibly Scorchstreak, were so badly injured in the fighting that two weeks likely seemed reasonable for them.

Speaking of Scorchstreak... Tigerfrost's gaze finds her's next. She had nearly died in that fight, but Cicadastar's desperation to protect Smokebreath had insured her escape, even after Tigerfrost had tackled the RiverClan leader. Those final minutes of the warfare were ones that he could hardly recall clearly, but that was likely due to exhaustion and blood loss. Like Scorchstreak, he, too, had been at the precipice of death itself, as if the gates of hell had opened in preparation to devour him whole. He recalled that, towards the end, he had felt no fear. Only a blossoming warmth, a determination, lulled by pleasant memories of his past. Regardless, such was the life of a warrior, to risk one's own life to protect clan-mates. Tigerfrost would have felt no regret had he awoken covered in starlight. He's still glad to have survived, though.

"Sure." The Lead Warrior finally responds, pulling himself free of his thoughts with a blink. "I'm trying not to reopen any of the wounds, but I'd also prefer not to look like a cat who just got stuck in a thorn bush." A dry humored snort presses past his fanged maw.​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

Tigerfrost asserts that he’ll likely be back to hunting duties in another week, and she rolls her eyes. A bold statement, but she doubts the tom will obey any recovery orders that Vulturemask gives him. Typical bullheaded tomcat, she thinks with a snort. "It’s a wonder you’re healing so well. We were all in real trouble, for a few moments there." An easy admission, simple as shrugging her shoulders. In the moment, she hadn’t felt anything but fury, but protectiveness over her clanmates and a desire to make the River King give up on their battle. Now, she recognizes fully just how close they had all gotten to joining the stars. She wonders what it would feel like, to leave her body, to become fully untethered from life. She wonders if Dappledsun hunts with StarClan, or if he drifts elsewhere.

With a slow blink, Scorchstreak settles to begin grooming the tabby lead warrior’s fur, focused on a spot that he certainly has no hope of reaching himself. Sharing tongues has always been a calming activity for her—something to occupy her mind, while aiding an ally at the same time. "Oh, hon," she grimaces, but it’s lighthearted, "you’ll always look a bit like a cat who got caught in a thorn bush. Stars, your fur is a mess." Her tongue catches on a particularly rough tangle, and she tugs a bit with a tooth, hoping that it doesn’t hurt as she attempts to comb through the knot.
​

[ MONSTROUS WOMAN ]​

​

 

[TIGERFROST]

TIGERFROST ♂

0/9

WINDCLAN / LEAD WARRIOR
BIOGRAPHY AND TAGS
PLAYED BY SHEOGORATH

HEALTH: ████████████████████​

---

The tom snorts, his disbelief certainly more-so out of stubbornness than confidence. Scorchstreak seems to think they could have died out there, and she was right, but Tigerfrost isn't one to accept such things. In his eyes, victory had been absolute. He speaks with a flick of his tail, "Those RiverClan cats lost in their own camp." He reminds boldly, albeit it had been their temporary camp, they still knew the area far better than any WindClanner. "Two of their lead warriors were left limp and dying on the battlefield. And we successfully thwarted Cicadastar's attempt to kill Weaselclaw." Tigerfrost reminds, as Scorchstreak gets to work pulling the knots and tangles out of the Lead Warrior's fur.

"Is it true those two are mates? Cicadastar and... Smokethroat, was it? He certainly seemed to get all weak-hearted trying to protect that lead warrior of his." Tigerfrost points out, curious. He hadn't even noticed the relationship before, but quite frankly, Tigerfrost has never bothered to pay much attention to any cat in RiverClan. Cicadastar could have struck a critical blow against WindClan by killing Weaselclaw, or perhaps Tigerfrost and Scorchstreak, but his weak-minded effort to protect Smokethroat had insured WindClan's victory. As for Scorchstreak's comment on his coat, Tigerfrost lets out a huff of dry amusement. "I do not." Tigerfrost responds, "I just haven't been able to groom it as much, lately." He offers his excuse with a slight shrug, going back to grooming his forelegs a bit more roughly than before. I don't look like I'm always stuck in a thorn bush, he pouts to himself.​

​