camp TRES BIEN ENSEMBLE ✧ . loitering

[GREENEYES]

✧ . This is… This is to be his home, soon.

Save for the big issue, he supposes, Greeneyes hardly thought of the intricacies of what’s next for him and Fireflyglow prior to now. His stride jolts to a stop at the scent of herbs wafting out of the den he tends to rush past with hardly a second glance more often than not should the wrong cat catch him standing too close. An action unfortunate for the right cat, for a frosted gaze and dark maw he’d wished so dearly to see more of in a day — a wish made true by a joint proclamation under the moon’s light that’s looped in his mind since.

The warrior realizes it now with widened eyes set upon the medicine den, that once their love no longer remains a secret only the two of them share, his and Fireflyglow’s nests — just as those of pairings made before them — are bound to be combined sooner or later, and… with his mate’s rank in question, Greeneyes doubts he’ll be sleeping in the warrior’s den for much longer. Soon his trinkets will be placed anew, his treasured cicada shell placed neatly in a nest no longer just his. Soon, the whole clan will know, and no longer will he share a den with his sister, with his friends, with his former council-mates and former apprentice, but with his mate. Who he loves, he loves.

And while he wouldn’t trade sharing a nest, a den with Fireflyglow… such means sharing a den with Dawnglare. And Mallowlark.

One is better than the other, he supposes — he knows — but the recognition that he’ll be too close to judgment and stretched scowls long after their delayed next step of actually telling the High Priest finally sets in. What if he steps wrong? If he somehow destroys their herbs, somehow keeps a patient awake and unable to heal? What if… what if he messes this, all of this, up?

His chest tightens, and mismatched paws grow cold, frozen to the ground in front of the medicine den’s entrance as impending doom nears. ​

✦ ABOUT

• // set vaguely (probably like, a day or two) before this thread!
• 
  GREENEYES ✦ AMAB. He / Him. Former Lead Warrior of SkyClan.
  ✧ . A red tabby and white tom with bright green eyes.
  ✧ . Daisyflight x Raven Ramble; Mate to Fireflyglow
  ✧ . Mentored by Sheepcurl ; Mentor to Fluffypaw, formerly Falcongaze
  ✧ . Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted!
  ✧ . Penned by Abri ‣ @_abri_ on discord, feel free to dm for plots!
  ✧ . " Speech " ; Attack
  

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[Ekat]

Ekat doesn't often find herself paying attention to the hazel-covered medicine den, for which she can only be thankful. The she-cat gratefully hasn't fallen ill or gotten any injuries during her moons in SkyClan — something Ekat would attribute not to luck but to her great sense of caution, and thus she has never had to step foot inside the medicine den. Most of the time, when crossing the camp, she never spares it a second glance. But Greeneyes is standing outside of it, looking strangely anxious. She doesn't know the tabby all that well, much as she isn't very close with any of their Clanmates — but his expression seems more at home on her own face than his. Ekat's ears twitch nervously as she pauses, watching the tomcat with his wide-eyed stare, his paws seemingly rooted to the ground.

Concern ripples through Ekat while she hesitates, unsure if she should approach. She really isn't close with Greeneyes, doesn't even know him well enough to guess why he looks so anxious. But something appears to be wrong with the tabby if the tension in his body is any indication, so Ekat swallows her apprehension and carefully pads his way. "Are... Are you feeling sick?" she asks Greeneyes, her voice quiet and gentle but edged with concern. He must have been on his way to enter the den, and then one of the medicine cats would see to him, and he'd be alright — but why was he just standing here? Ekat shuffles her paws awkwardly, feeling small and unsure, but she's also unable to just leave the tomcat standing there without at least checking what was wrong.​

 

[QUILLSTRIKE]

IF THE POINT'S TO NEVER DISAPOINT YOU, SOMEBODY'S GOT TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO​

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”Yeah, what’s up with you, dude?” questioned Quill as the made his way over to join Ekat in checking on his clanmate. ”You look like you just saw a ghost or something.”

Freaked out more than sick, if Quill had to put a name to their expression, but he was far from the expert. Either way, Greeneyes was acting weird and the chimera wanted to know why. If they were sick, then they needed to get their tail in gear and get treated instead of standing there like a shellshocked rabbit.
​

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skyclan - male - 30 months (Feb 17th) - mated to Twitchbolt - a very tall, muscular chimera with mismatched eyes and several scars. has bluejay feathers woven like spikes along his spine and neck.

 

[DOEBLAZE]

Her familiarity with the hazel den is nothing short of intimate, ironic given her distaste for its chief occupant. Fate is fond of tumbling Doeblaze across the world without much care for the fragility of her flesh, and so she's landed herself in here with assorted injuries more times than she can count. Once, it had held treasured memories—hesitant breaths under a round moon, stories whispered lest they wake Dawnglare. It's a mixed place for her now, injected with loveliness and terror in equal measures. This is not helped by Dawnglare and Mallowlark, either of which are apt to scare the living daylights out of a cat passing by at any given moment by popping out. She'd not slept well in the medicine den for many reasons, but chief among them had been the oppressive awareness of the two toms curled up nearby.

Dawnglare is reprehensible, Mallowlark is creepy. Fireflyglow is the lone bright spot residing within a den already darkened by death. So, she only visits for necessities—getting this tickle in her throat checked out, or that gash on her paw wrapped up. Otherwise, she steers clear, and she suspects much of the Clan does the same. She doesn't often see anyone hanging around their of their own free will, after all ... except Greeneyes, it would seem.

" Can't blame him for being reluctant, " the tabby remarks with a grimace as she joins the small group clustered around the red-and-white tom. Ekat questions if he's sick in her quiet way, Quillstrike in his considerably more brusque one ... although he's not wrong. Greeneyes looks somehow pale despite the vibrancy of his coat, standing in a stilted, taut way she's personally familiar with. " If you are sick, I'd get that checked out quick, though. " She pulls a face, remembering the yellowcough plague. " Stuff catches like wildfire this time of year. "

OOC : —

✦

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