super clear since the late 1990s — intro

[blueviper]

Blueviper sits in camp, lapping at a stubborn knot in her tail; the appendage is a thing to behold, long as the rest of her and heavy, thick as those of the fishes that swim the waters of her home. The heavy curls of her fur grow longest here, and so she sits to work at the irritating tangle of fur, not an uncommon occurence for a cat with such thick fur. It's a rare sight for most cats, Blueviper at rest; despite the warrior's thick coat of fur, she's out of camp more often than in it, chasing whatever thrills might offer themselves into her paws like a blessing.

Speaking of which, her paler gray portion is marred, as it often is, by a thin shallow scratch climbing its way up to her ribs, almost kissing the scar across her back; nothing worth seeing the medicine cat about, in Blueviper's opinion, a simple scrape earned on a dare. She'd snagged it on an outcropping of rock while diving in the river at a Clanmate's "suggestion", unseeing of the small threat down in the blue dark. Her dive had been exactly what landed her fur in this state; once it'd finally dried, the warrior's heavy pelt had immediately begun gnarling itself into tangles. Stars, she was going to get Foxstep back for that dare if it killed her.

Blueviper finally unspools the stubborn thing and glances about the camp the Clan had just returned to; the familiar sights are nice, and she looks about to see if there's anyone worth talking to.​

 

[WOLFGLADE]

જ➶ "Fur troubles?" They speak quietly as they walk forth across the camp. They are campbound given their most recent injuries because of Thunderclan and their incessant thievery of Sunningrocks. The pain of their wounds is bareable today and so they figure that a good walk is necessary to stretch out their form and at least see what is going on within the camp since returning. A small dip of their head moves and he settles down near the other, a curious glint in olivine eyes. His own pelt is thick with entangles of dark brown and light brown fur. Though they hardly find the time to actually groom it so they just leave it be. "If you ever need help I can give a paw." After all a second helper makes things go by faster. Though their eyes are drawn to what looks like a fresh wound and they cock their head to the side.

"How did you get that? Have you seen Beesong about it?" If she didn't want to go and see the medicine cat he wouldn't make her. He often tries to avoid that avenue themselves.​

 

[RAVENSONG]

Laid on his side, the RiverClan apprentice stretched out his paws as the sun beat down on his dark pelt. The feeling of being back in camp is so relieving that he cannot help but spend the majority of his free time basking outside. It also give him a good reason to make sure the injured cats aren't straining themselves or begging one of the lead warriors to be put on patrol. He opened up one eye, pupil slitted, to see Wolfglade trot over across the camp toward Blueviper.

Ravenpaw rolled over onto his belly, observing the warrior carefully. He was a nuisance in how much he fussed over the patients. Those large green-blue eyes would seek out any injured cat and herd them back to the medicine den if need be. The last time it happened, Petalnose had somehow gotten into Two-leg shimmer-stuff.

However his ears prick up at the mention of his mentor. Ravenpaw glanced back at the medicine den. He decided not to cause an alarm and instead padded over slowly to the two of them. If it was serious, he'd call Beesong if he hadn't heard his name spoken already.

Poking his nose into the conversation, Ravenpaw blinked owlishly at Blueviper. "What's this about seeing Beesong?"

​

 

[FERNGILL]

Fernpaw had always made quite the effort to keep himself well groomed. Even when he was an unsightly kitten and an awkward, gawky young apprentice, dotted with near-balding patches of dull ginger fur, he'd always kept himself free of mats and knots, ever aware of the feeling of anything irregular tugging at his skin. Though, it'd be unfair to judge himself against Blueviper, wouldn't it? Her pelt looked infinitely more difficult to wrangle than his own- he could not imagine having to work out a knot that insistent.

Prepared to pay the warriors little mind, content to simply stay out of their way, Fernpaw made a swivel in judgement as soon as he heard Wolfglade's comment about seeing the medicine cat. It took him a moment of wide-eyed scrutiny, but he did spot the tiniest blackening of blood upon Blueviper's flank.

"She's hurt, I think," he offered as an answer to Ravenpaw, eyes wide in worry as they settled upon his friend. Perhaps an obvious statement, but Fernpaw was none the wiser to the fact it probably didn't need to be said. "Can't it-" he swallowed,"Can't it get worse if you just leave it...?"​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[blueviper]

Deep-set eyes will widen a fraction at the sudden onset of cats; but the spotlight was something Blueviper tended to enjoy, sometimes crave even, and so she sighed languidly and continued lapping with a half-fake casualness at her lush pelt. The first cat to approach her is Wolfglade, their own fur a thick tangle of brown; the chimera half-shrugs at their offer to help her with her partially groomed fur, and just as her dark jaws open to deliver a languid reply, another couple of cats approach her quite suddenly. Blueviper sighs; she's done this song and dance more than once, did everyone really have to make that big a deal about every tiny scratch every cat got ever? It was just a scratch.

Blueviper grazes it with her muzzle as she continues working at her pelt with a small flash of pain; still, it really wasn't that bad. The warrior restrained herself from rolling her eyes (the medicine cats were worthy of respect, she supposed) and offered her explanation, "Foxstep dared me to go diving in the river and I guess I caught myself on a rock or something since it's so dark down there. But it's nothing serious, just a scratch."
​

 

[RAVENSONG]

A sharp, whistling breath left the young cat's lungs. Fernpaw's clearer gaze had caught on to the issue and Ravenpaw shuffled over to get a closer look. Although it appeared the blood was welling up, Blueviper was right—it was just a scratch. Nothing that needed cobwebs, he assumed.

Ravenpaw appeared unimpressed by the warrior's reasoning. Sometimes he wondered if any of his Clanmates had any ounce of self-preservation. He had never seen it, but he heard rumors of some cats seemingly attempt to eat sand. No wonder they were such a laughing-stock. The back of his neck prickled uncomfortably.

"You're right, just a scratch. Still, I do think you ought to go to Beesong. They'll prepare a poultice to help fight off infection." He offered with a twitch of his large ear.

​

 

[Cindershade]

"Scratch or not, those rocks aren't exactly clean and it needs to be tended to appropriately." A voice interjects from beside Fernpaw, the rosetted molly had joined them in mid conversation. Cindershade eyed the shallow scrape along Blueviper's flank with scrutiny, noting how lengthy it was; though it was not deep, it still looked as if it would be hard to reach up to the warrior's shoulder. "You should listen to Ravenpaw, Blueviper. He is Beesong's apprentice, after all. And Fernpaw is right. It can get worse if you just leave it. We need to keep our warrior's in top condition." She flits her gaze over towards the duo, a certain mischievous darkens in her chartreuse gaze, a twitch of a smile itching upon her lips before turning back to the chimera and her expression changes to something light. "Besides—I'd hate for your lovely fur to be so marred by infection and scars." She feigns a saccharine smile, a prick of venom in her tone. Blueviper had always taken pride in her flowing locks of fur, making sure to keep those hairs in pristine condition and perhaps hearing that she may become even more scarred and possibly less attractive in the eye's of others may sway her. It was a pitiful example of manipulation, really, but if it worked then it'd be a win in her book. Cindershade was never one that acquired the skill of the tongue, always brash and to the point. Both a blessing and a curse, it was.

​

[ SILENCE IS DEAFENING ]​