starting to slow and the meter dips .. injury

[S A B L E T U F T]

can we leave it behind? — // long post! sabletuft is searching for ratwater alone. the wind breaks off a pine branch and some of the attached, thinner branches made impact with his head. no external injuries but he does have concussion

Several days had passed now, and the longer time went on the more anxious he grew about those that simply hadn't turned up. He figured, giving it a single night would help those that didn't all leave the same way come back and find someone that knew to stay in the tunnels. When so many still hadn't returned, he set forth for camp to pull out any stragglers.

There, some faces turned up, but not who he was looking for.

Most curiously Sabletuft felt a mixture of guilt and confusion on the whereabouts of Halfshade and the kittens accompanying her. He had escorted them personally, along with Stumpspots. He had stayed so focused making sure there was distance between them and the bears, preparing to defend them if they caught one's attention, he didn't even see where they had gotten split up. The most reassurance he had was that she had at least exited camp, but beyond that there wasn't a trace.

Even curiouser, Ratwater had been absent from the whole marsh it seemed. The last image he had of his sister before dipping away was her running form the swatting paws of a bear. He forced himself to think of any outcome other than the obvious thought. Besides, there hadn't been any blood from the last place in camp he had seen her. Tufts of fur had trailed from the direction she took to escape, but nothing traceable after that. At least, not that he was picking up.

Searching for his sister felt like a personal matter, he didn't want to share the responsibility of his kin with the others. Not when they had their own to worry about. With a vague explanation of where he would be going, Sabletuft had spent a long stretch of time trying to decipher Ratwater's whereabouts. The wind was unreasonable, as it had enjoyed to be recently. He could hardly hear anything but air blowing back into his face, cold scent of pine and carrion filling his nose. He grimaced while turning his head away, tail lashing in frustration.

"Ratwater!" He shouted into the gales, hoping it would carry his voice. Hoping his calling had reached her. His sights looked up as the clouds rolled overhead, biting back whatever swears he had for the stars. They would have to strike him down if this was their response to ShadowClan's success. If they truly wished for them to duffer, to leave his Clan in the dust, he would be sure to remind them exactly what cat sent some of their ranks.

As he prowled through the tussocks, still deafened by the tumultuous weather, he hardly heard the warning groans of the pines. Too occupied keeping himself from being battered around, he hadn't the slightest clue the damage being done to the trees scattered about. It wasn't until a large - snap - cracked through the sound of the wind that Sabletuft was able to pull his attention to it. His eyes turned up to see the branch hurling down. He has enough time to back away from it colliding with his entire body, but not enough to dodge it entirely. A bundle of extended branches make contact with his skull, enough to bring his chin down against the wetlands beneath his paws, teeth clacking together.

The impact is dizzying. A small thud began to ache between his ears. The tuxedo stumbled backwards while forcing himself to stand up again, his balance swaying as he tried to find stable footing. He knew he was lucky enough to escape the fall with his life, but each passing second the pressure under his skin grew more intense with pain. The shallow puddle next to him tells him theres no blood, no external injuries to say he had broken or cut anything, but that didn't help with it felt like a tornado rolling behind his eyes. Or why his reflection showed double of himself.

She's still out here. Sabletuft stubbornly sought to remain out looking for Ratwater, but his mind was moving faster than his body. Still in shock, he couldn't find the balance to move his paws further. — tags​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

---

there is a part of chilledstar that can understand the urgency. sabletuft is a cat who, time and time again, seems to work work and overwork when it comes to his clanmates. this seemed to apply a little more to ratwater who was his sibling. so hearing her name, carried by the roughened gusts of unforgiving wind, was no surprise to the leader. the real surprise was when a branch twisted and snapped off, hitting the lead warrior in his head. the barely witnessed it, trying to keep their own footing within the muggy swamp worlds, overcome by brutal breaths from the sky. they only pause when they realize he still continues. hurt and all... he continues. stubborn their internal voice rings and they only nod at it. they're not even close to being surprised about it.

"sabletuft! you've been hit by a branch, mousebrain. slow down, and let starlingheart peak at you."

their voice is raspy, yet they are forcing it to be louder so the blades of wind that slice the air so dutifully do not drown their words. they grit their teeth for a moment before sighing.

"wanting to find ratwater is fine, but by the stars, you're not gonna find her if you're dead. sit. or must i make you?"

// obligatory @STARLINGHEART . tag
​

 

[smogstar]

Sabletuft's conduct was uninhibited by the wounds worn upon his pelt, yet his judgement was hindered by the scars etched into his soul. In the wake of the bears' foray into their homelands, an unfortunate myriad of clanmates have found themselves displaced—close friends and family members amongst them, needless to say. The sudden absence of a loved one tears at the fabrics of one's very being, and it's a phenomena that has afflicted both the lead warrior and the clan's deputy. But Sabletuft, the stalwart workhorse he is, has chosen to forfeit any sliver of self-preservation he has until his sister is located safe and sound; and look where that's landed him.

Languid paws creep on the heels of his leader's, circling around the duo of wandering felines and triangulating into a tertiary position. He does not interpose on Chilledstar's authority, yet implements himself in the situation all the same. "Keep your pace in check," the tom meows, echoing the words of authority in a rustic drawl. "Head trauma's something you can't outrun, my friend."Dark pools train on the injured fellow's bearing and absorb the cues of soreness inscribed into his features. While he preferred to impose on others' free will in a more passive manner, a tom of Sabletuft's calibre should not be condemned to work himself into the grave.​