private WAITING FOR THE HOUR 𓆩♡𓆪 COPIA

[DAWNGLARE]

The stranger – Copia, he ought to begin learning his name now – is hastily goaded into his den by a foxlike tail. The scent of blood lingers, but Dawnglare feels no real urgency... He hardly could over something like this when he's seen dog - tooth gashes and blood loss that could turn souls to corpses in mere moments... " You can't return to Twolegplace, can you? " he asks, grasping at the conversation that had preceded his arrival. Whatever made him bleed could be avoided easily, so long as he didn't leave his home. Leaving his home is how Dawnglare ended up here in the first place, toiling his life away under the sun's yellow blaze...

Dawnglare comes to sniff at his wounds. The blood on his paws is not his own, it turns out... The stranger's own wounds are paltry. Small things that graze against his shoulders and leg. Dawnglare muses a considering hum. " You're not so hideous that a Twoleg would turn it's nose at you. " Hardly a compliment, make no mistake. " I think — they relish in fixing what's broken, even. " Sewing together the impossible with methods beyond even his understanding... Naturally because it wasn't meant to be understood by any mind. Such is what made it unholy in every sense — tearing at the ground without regard to the rules... " I could leave you like this, " with narrowed eyes, he offers. " I could leave you worse. They would almost certainly take you, then. "

OOC. @COPIA :3

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[COPIA]

Copia treks behind the SkyClan medicine cat, his mismatched eyes scanning at the camp that SkyClan calls home. He wasn't expecting it to be so vast— how big is this clan, exactly? He can tell it's huge; his nose isn't lying to him. It's overwhelmed with new scents, and the black smoke catches up to Dawnglare with a shake of his head. Perhaps this is where all of our recruits went, The injured tom thinks as Dawnglare pads in the direction of a specific den— didn't that piebald tom say he's a medicine cat or something? His shoulder & leg continue to sting, and he guesses he should feel grateful someone will look over his wounds. But all he can think about, right now, is Terzo.

The strange medicine cat mews, and the black smoke feline is pulled back into reality. He tilts his head at the question, does the SkyClanner think he was lying back there? "Yes, that's correct," Copia confirms with an awkward swish of his tail, "I cannot go back, heh." It'd be a death sentence, He silently thinks, as Dawnglare approaches him and sniffs his wounds. Copia's form stiffens as the other tom gets close, and the medicine cat lets out a considering hum. "You're not so hideous that a Twoleg would turn it's nose at you." Wait a minute— does he think Copia is a housecat? He wears no collar around his neck; don't housecats typically have those? The injured tom blinks with surprise evidently off guard. Why would Dawnglare bring him all the way to his den if he just wants to drop him off with twolegs? "Er, I've heard about that. Strange creatures, heh." Copia comments with a flick of his torn ear.

"I could leave you like this," Dawnglare voice reaches his ears, "I could leave you worse. They would almost certainly take you, then." The injured tom shifts his paws uncomfortably, his gaze landing on Dawnglare's narrowed eyes. "I'll take my chances with you," He says as his ears pin back, wondering if the SkyClanner will be displeased. "Twolegs don't get along with, eh, strays like me."​

𝐨𝐨𝐜 ――― 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭

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  artwork by me
  
• Copia

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  warrior
  33 moons
  awkward
  clumsy
  experience: shadowing
  backstory: [HYPERLINK]
  biography: [HYPERLINK]
  pixel by nopeita <3
  

  cisgender male [he / him]
  eyes: green & gray
  pelt: blue/black chimera
  fur length: long
  parents: sorella and nihil (rogue npcs)
  

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[DAWNGLARE]

He is insistent in his suffering then, and for that, Dawnglare harkens a sigh. An aggravating trend: the self - infliction of death and sickness... Dawnglare ought to stop caring entirely, ought to stop holding hope that any one soul would ever come to their senses, like this. The forest did not breed a thing like that, it seemed... Perhaps the leaves actively took away from it all. He grunts begrudging acceptance. Leaving Copia where he is, he finds web to weave around a forepaw. The beginnings of a smile twitch up his lips and crescent his eyes. " There are no chances with me. " A purr catches on his throat. For a thorough cleaning of the wound, he lowers a pink tongue onto the tom's pelt.

And then his head snaps upward. A softening gaze is suddenly crystal again, digging bloody into the stranger's pelt. " Strays? " a word unfamiliar to him, and clearly so with its odd twinge on tongue. Some long - forgotten knowledge seeks to explain it to him. Something that began with Don't go near... or perhaps, Don't worry about.... Mother, when Her face had been something able to be touched. Downy curls and red - white fur... A languid blink grazes eyelids with downy paleness. And then in a simmer: disappointing realization. A grimace takes him fully then, pink gums pulling with his frown. " There's... been a – a mistake, " he hisses. A foxlike tail - tip whips up and his irritation.

He is far from the first, and perhaps it is that fact that brings frustration bubbling to the surface. There was a chance yet, for Copia to be spared from this: a life toiling away for nothing, chipping away at nothing. Clan cats will hear nothing, but this one needs not be like the others. Frivolities have driven him mad... Even if he knows it to be unlikely, he so desperately yearns for someone special. Eyes fly wide, suddenly. A face stretched taut in teeth - clenching intensity thrusts itself forward; finds the tom's face and does not break away. " What does it do for you: the life that you live? What sick pleasure does it give you? " A white paw, still held up and caked in gossamer, trembles slightly. " I should give you nothing. " With all the blood SkyClan was prone too, did these scrapes even deserve a cut of his stock? " Maybe it'd teach you, " he hisses.​