camp THE SPACE BETWEEN — gravel vs old man

[GRAVELSNAP]

Elders are to be treated with respect and dignity, Gravelpaw has learned from their days among the cats of WindClan. Truthfully, they don’t harbor any specific fondness for the older, retired warriors. Gravelpaw only likes the elders who are friendly and treat them like something more than dirt. They like to think of themself as a patient cat, though; when they are tasked with aiding an elder in removing ticks, they offer no argument. It’s almost soothing to them, and they don’t mind the taste or smell of the bile-soaked moss.

Today, though, their task is anything but soothing. Frustration practically radiates off the black-splashed apprentice as he sits before one of the crankiest, most uncooperative cats in the entire clan. A positively ugly fine, with a dull coat and a tendency to scratch until he creates bald spots. Of all WindClanners, this elder needs the most help with the ticks and fleas; this elder has also snapped at Gravelpaw two times, now, and the child is very nearly at their wits’ end. In their mind settles the image of a sweet, kind, darling granny elder, all too content to allow Gravelpaw to use mouse bile as they see fit—but no, instead this scruffy, balding, contrary bag of bones is keeping them on their toes.

"Sit still," the monochrome feline chastises the elder, tail lashing fiercely in irritation. The old man shifts again, and Gravelpaw’s upper lip curls back in warning. It’s a gesture purely for show—they would never harm an elder, unless this old bag of bones actually bites them. Self-defense, and all that. "Would you like the ticks to eat you alive," they snap despite themself, lifting a paw to swipe at their twitching ear, "or will you let me get them off?" This is stressing him out. His chest feels a bit tight, his ear won’t stop twitching, and he can hear his breaths coming quicker. Shaking his head, he bites back a few choice words. Once his breathing has steadied a bit, he picks up the moss once more, gritting his teeth against the feeling, and goes to work.
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[ DEATH OF A DREAM ]​

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[Badgermoon]

Assisting the elders with their pests was probably one of the most important but least-liked tasks assigned to apprentices, Badgermoon thought as he spotted Gravelpaw tangling with their charge. The black and white tom winced, as he was familiar with the patchy old cat and his bad attitude - an absolute pain in the tail, quite frankly, but part of WindClan nonetheless, and deserving of their respect. Or, you know, their best attempts at respect. He padded closer, hoping that his presence would assist the young cat who seemed to be growing almost panicky, presumably from agitation at the elder's sour temper. Or, at least, give the old man a new target. "Hey, Gravelpaw," said the broad-shouldered warrior genially, "why don't you fetch our patient here some water? I'm sure you'll appreciate the drink, sir, what with all the fussing in your coat." he offered his best smile to their aged Clanmate before waving Gravelpaw off, "I'll do this next section while you get it." hopefully a chance to step away and gather themselves would help the younger WindClanner out, give them a little break from the whole unpleasant process.​

 

[Juniperfrost]

Attending ones duties with pride was important. Every task, even the more bothersome ones, was worth doing. But they had a system, the warriors worked on hunting and patrols, tending the more dangerous and important tasks with pointed resolve. This left the younger cats, the apprentices, the duty of managing the clan's idle issues on their own. It was not hard to clean nests or crack fleas between ones teeth, but it needed doing. Built character.
Juniperfrost is returning from his own patrol when he spots the movement near the elder's den, cloaked in tall grass and barely visible is Badgermoon's bicolor coat; paw waving to shoo out the figure of his nephew.

Does a warrior not have better things to do to help an apprentice with their trivial duties? Was Gravelpaw so pathetic he couldn't even handle one elder on his own? Truly a disgrace to the bloodline if he'd ever seen one, then again it was not his kit; his were far worse because of one stupid she-cat and her bleedingheart. Frankly at this point it would probably be better to just not bother with legacies. Coyotepaw, at least, had promise and looked to be gradually adjusting to WindClan life; that he stuck it out and performed well was another thing entirely but Juniperfrost was optimstic in that regard.
Not that his expression would ever portray him as such. Rarely did it shift from its facade of disinterest.

"Too much trouble for you, Gravelpaw?" He asks, and there is a coldness in his tone that makes it hard to tell if the question is sincere or mocking.
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[GRAVELSNAP]

The tom who steps in to help shield Gravelpaw from the wrath of the world’s meanest-tempered elder is Badgermoon, and the monochrome apprentice offers a shaky smile. The older WindClanner is surely more in tune with the elders; age and wisdom and all that. And if they’re being willingly granted a break from their task, they are going to take it. "Oh, okay. I’ll go fetch some water, then." They’re grateful for the assistance, though they aren’t certain where they’re meant to get water from.

They’re about to turn and go searching for some more moss to soak in water—only to be cut off when they spot the colorless form of their uncle. Gravelpaw normally doesn’t mind him or his seemingly perpetual disdain for them, not while their focus lies solely upon their father’s approval. Now, though, they have no choice but to face Juniperfrost’s accusation.

The implication that he’s not good enough to do a simple task makes him curl in on himself the tiniest bit, shoulders going taut with nerves. Hazel eyes flick between Badgermoon and Juniperfrost for a few moments, then his tail lashes dark against the ground and he turns to face the elder once more. "I can do it myself," he snaps, defensive. His father’s face flashes behind his eyelids when he blinks, that orange lip curled into a mocking sneer. A disappointment. He gestures to Badgermoon with a snowy white paw, accusation in his tone. "He just took over."
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[ DEATH OF A DREAM ]​

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[Spiderbloom]

Spiderbloom watched Gravelpaw try to help the elder with their ticks and fleas. Old people were such a pain in the ass. She didn't blame Badgermoon for going to help, it was a mercy to Gravelpaw.

Perhaps her resentment towards elders was rooted in her own experiences with her grandparents, but that didn't stop her from going over to sit beside Juniperfrost and giving her two cents.

"Don't underestimate those old folks, Juniperfrost. There's nothing more stubborn in the world than a cranky old man." She said. Yeah, the elder was right there, so what?

"Besides, the job will get done quicker with Badgermoon's help. Then they both can go back to other duties quicker." She added.

She swore, if he told her to go help too, then....she was going to put all the dead ticks in his nest.
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[Badgermoon]

Surprise, surprise, it was Juniperfrost - the light-coated tabby tom was a loyal WindClanner, Badgermoon knew it, and surely a strong warrior, as well. But good StarClan, did he get on his nerves. The black-and-white cat closed his eyes for a moment before hitching a grin onto his face that, while not as bright and toothy as Mallowlark's, was still a few dozen megawatts more aggressive than his usual casual smile. "Gravelpaw is right, Juniperfrost!" he meowed cheerfully. "I'm just too much of the terribly controlling, apprentice-coddling type. I saw them dealing with old Thornpelt and simply had to intervene." no, that wasn't really the case - but somehow, Badgermoon doubted "I'm trying to lighten the load on this young cat's shoulders so they don't crack before they're even a warrior" would be especially convincing for his frosty Clanmate. Better to approach the situation with some humor, he felt - even if he was a little annoyed that his advocacy for the apprentice was being met with immediate blame-throwing.

"On you go, Gravelpaw. I'm sure he can't wait for his water." an ear flick in the elder's direction and a little wink granted permission, even encouragement, for the younger cat to take a step away from the scene. Spiderbloom's arrival and immediate defense of him was something of a surprise, and though he felt no need for his decisions to be defended on his behalf, he was glad for the support anyway. "Howdy, Spiderbloom. Glad to hear it. I can't wait to be a stubborn old man myself, I must say!" Badgermoon chuckled a bit and then began rasping his tongue over the elder's coat with long, firm strokes, trying to flatten the fur to see where ticks still remained.​

 

[Juniperfrost]

Gravelpaw at least had the sense to be ashamed at the help granted him, prickling and snappish and promptly throwing Badgermoon to the wolves to save his own hide. He was torn between being impressed and mildly annoyed over the outburst but Juniperfrost let it go with a dismissive flick of his tail and instead rolled his eyes upon Spiderbloom's sudden presence at his side. She had been following him recently and it was getting to the point he had half a mind to cuff her like an insolent apprentice for her pleasantries and too familiar jeering of him.
"Is that you offering to also crack ticks, imagine the wonders of three cats wasting time rather than simply one." Though he was sure the black and white tom would have cheerfully agreed the comment was made with the obvious undertones of sarcasm. Two warriors wasting time helping chores was not productive in leaf-bare. They were starving and he was tired of the apprentices being treated like newborn kits.

Badgermoon's cheerful reply and response was met with the usual deadpan and expressionless frown he often wore, not giving way to his feelings or reacting in any way whatsoever to the affirmation of Gravelpaw's complaints. He wouldn't be surprised if the tom was pushy enough to take over duties out of some warped sense of wanting to help, but if their apprentices could not shoulder the simple burden of mere chores then they would fail in places where their lives were at stake and it was not something he wanted to enable. WindClan did not need dead apprentices, but live warriors; the youth needed strength to not falter, to carry forward. Cold as he was, he did not want them all to feebly curl into a ball and die at the slightest provocation. Fighting tooth and claw to live was encouraged.

He watched as Gravelpaw was shooed away to fetch water, the other tom engaging in pleasantries with the point molly and his lips curled back to show his teeth in a rare display of actual irritation, "You need not wait for age to be stubborn and lacking sense, you do well as it is." And just like that the anger dispersed, gone as quickly as it had briefly flickered upward to display, he didn't have the time to hold it. Fire did not do well with frost.
"If our apprentices can not even handle a grouchy elder I fear the worst for the battlefield.."

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