camp we're always searching for what's wrong || interrogation

[KITE]

✦​

this thread takes place shortly after the visit from the rogues!!

Kite knew the questions would come as soon as those who had fought with their siblings had seen to their wounds, as best as they could without Dawnglare and Fireflyglow. The shadowy tabby is sat, tail tucked around forepaws, beside the tree stump. There would be no cowering or excuses made. Kite has made themself available for the inevitable questions-- they invite questions--, insults or whatever it is that will be thrown at them.

Their placid face stares ahead, ears careening as they listen to the chattering of their newfound home. As soon as Kite had been retrieved by Crochet, they had known trouble they knew had come and payed a visit. Kite new an altercation between themselves and their siblings was inevitable, but had not been expecting to happen so soon after their departure or in such an explosive manner. They had not expected to feel the anger brewing inside their ribcage, but there it is; a pressing in the chest, heat on their eartips, saliva filling their mouth, tension set in their jawbone. It pissed Kite off to see their siblings act so reckless, they all should know better: infection festers easily within the Twolegplace... had they got seriously wounded, who knows what could have happened. Anger was directed towards Skyclan too, to see these clan cats act with half a mind, shouldn't they be smarter? With no medicine cats or leader, it had surprised Kite to see some of the warriors act so impulsively. Kite had been the biggest idiot of all, standing there and fuming. Had Kite attacked a sibling, how would that had been interpreted by Skyclanners, that they would stoop as low as betraying their own kin? Even then, Kite was left in the awful position of not being able to defend their kin.

It gave them a migraine to think of the position they were in now, when all had been going well for the past three days since joining. Sand shifts as a feline pads up to Kite, apparently the questioning will begin now. Kite raise their head and clears their throat, nodding a greeting before the interrogation would begin. Kite murmurs, "There is no excuse... for what happened at the border... nor can I promise it will not happen again. They are uncontrollable..."

———————---****KEEP IT ALL INSIDE******———————---​

✦ UNTIL WE FEEL WE CAN’T UNLEASH

•  
• — black tabby with a slim physique and compact muscles, tags
  — 38, ages every 21st
  — they/them or she/her
  — bisexual
  — wary to trust
  — speech
  — peaceful powerplay allowed

​

​

 

[SLATE]

Ferocity radiates from Slate's massive form as he prowls toward Kite, narrowed irises fixing onto the former rogue. She hasn't a scratch on her from the rogue fight, of course, and Slate could only guess why. They were still in cahoots with one another; Kite could have been feeding information to them in secret this entire time and SkyClan wouldn't have even known it. Slate had not trusted Kite and Wolf upon their joining and he sure as hell had no reason to believe anything they said now.

The lead warrior scowls as Kite attempts to make a case for themselves, claiming that they couldn't control what their siblings did. In his heart, he cannot believe them. Having lived on the streets once, he knew that most cats out there were lying and thieving leeches who only looked out for themselves. Selfishness was a necessity for survival, as was cunning and wit. "They came here lookin' for you. How are we to know that you're still not associating with your kin?" Slate snarls with a lash of his bushy, prickling tail. He is furious, having not been present for the altercation at the border. Otherwise, he would have killed one of those scumpelts himself. He had done it before, after all.

A fiery gaze sweeps toward his clanmates now, his muzzle wrinkling angrily as he growls, "Keepin' them here is obviously a threat to our safety. We need to reconsider their place in SkyClan." Slate does not recognize the hypocrisy that spills from his lips, having been a former rogue himself. However, he is only focused on the danger present here and now. Orangestar was out there somewhere with Dawnglare and Fireflyglow absent as well. How was Slate to know that this hadn't been some sort of setup?

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 ✹ .　 + 　˚ 　　 · 　 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐄

• 

• 

  a lead warrior of skyclan, slate is forty-one moons and is mentoring coffeepaw. he is a hulking longhaired maine coon with black fur and prominent reddish rusting on his chest and belly. scars litter his form but are prominently present on his face. ✦

​

 

[Batscreech]

Bat observed the scene unfold a short distance away, sulking about aimlessly in his own thoughts until something of note dragged him out, as per usual. He had heard of the events that transpired within the past few days- a pair of new arrivals had been welcomed into SkyClans ranks- and then trouble had come shortly after, claiming to be their former companions- their family. It didn't take long for a full blown scuffle to break out between the rogues and clan cats, some of them returning with wounds to show for it.

Slate was on the newcomer- Kite, if his recollection was accurate- in an instant, throwing his overgrown physique around in an attempt to appear as intimidating as possible. His show of force was amusing to Bat, a small smirk pulling at the ends of his maw. Only once Slate began to drone on about how Kite could not be trusted and that they would need to reevaluate whether or not they were worth keeping in the clan did Bat make the decision to approach, his mild show of amusement fading as is mouth turned downwards into a slight frown, hollowed eyes glinting.

"Oi, arsemonger." His eyes locked onto Slates, though his voice was relatively flat despite the hostile address. "I know it might be hard seein' as yer dead from the neck up- but 'ave ya ever thought 't think about the typa bollocks yer spewin' before runnin' yer dodgy trap?" Bats viridian orbs narrowed into slits as he continued. "From the street dive yerself, innit? Ya forget yerself, goin' on 'bout "trust"...Yer a proper nutter thinkin' yer any better than this ligger." Bat's head tilted in the direction of Kite as he concluded with a rather expected unsavory insult. He saw no issue in throwing them around, especially in a circumstance such as this- He didnt like Slate, and he didn't really know Kite. Truthfully, his supposed defense of Kite was not for Kite at all, but rather an excuse for him to drag Slate as far into the dirt as he could.​

​

 

[Howlfire]

It seemed that the tension from the rogues at the border had not only boiled over there but in the camp too. Howlfire was still nursing a few light scratches from the encounter, but she felt like she was about to get some mental bruises hearing Slate, and then Bat yelling in camp.

"Be mindful of what you say, Bat," Howlfire mewed padding over. Her tone was light but it was clear she was irritated. She didn't really know what was going on between Bat and Slate, but from her point of view, there was quite a bit of tension there. Howlfire knew Slate wasn't the easiest to get along with at times but the rude behaviour was uncalled for. "Disagree with him all you want, but he is still a lead warrior and you should still show him some respect, lest you want to be on tick duty with the apprentices."

With a huff, she looks between Kite and Slate. "Kite, Slate is right, that whole situation at the border was bad and should not have happened. I'm not so quick to blame you, but there must be more you can do to stop them if they turn up again?" Howlfire implores him. She could not recall him fighting with the SkyClan warriors at the border, nor had he fully turned against them. Even so, Howlfire hope he could be potentially be more confident in getting them to stand aside if they turned up again. "Friendships outside of the clan are not forbidden but you want to be a part of our clan, yes? That means you have to fight for us, not them...even if they are your family." Howlfire speaks from experience, a child still torn between two worlds.​

 

[ThistleBack]

Returning home with cuts, an inevitable outcome of a run-in with rogues especially some so daring. He angrily makes his way to a clearing in camp and slams down on his ribs tail lashing like a whip, uncaring to the lack of cooling shadows. He licks at his cuts with nicked ears folded back, furious as he turns over his witness to just how bold the rogues outside the borders have become. He’s stewing, the heart of his home which housed his family once again plagued by the dangerous and daring.

A white skull nods in concurrence to Slate’s words, and slitted eyes shoot to Kite. Had this been a scheme, had they opened the gates to the brains of whatever operation this was? The scene on the border, some tip upon the iceberg of some elaborate plan. Stringing along a marionette, this puppeteer feigning indifference for their own kin. For once, Thistleback wished for Dawnglare’s take on it. At least some nonsensical spiel may provide something to speculate anything other than the blatant.

His nails curl out and stab into the nettle-laden dirt, he growls as Bat pipes off. In Kite’s defense, would not be the way to describe it. Calling the lead warrior out in the name of hypocrisy, Thistleback stands. Prowling in a hunched stalk, back rippling like a shaking thorn bush, he stops adjacent to the trio. " I stand with Slate’s words… " his steel hued gaze settles upon the dark-furred molly with a lip twitching above his teeth. " you may be the only one of your little group with brains. A spider spinning a web for Skyclan to fly into. Perhaps what happened today is going exactly as planned for you " he accuses, each word drawn over his fangs with contempt.

" or…. " the wrinkles along his nose soften marginally, because he had duality in his thoughts just as easily as one could breath. Ambivalence having been a sermon of his thoughts, warring to create the formula of perspective. He was a ruthlessly pensive man, without fear of being wrong and willing to learn by it. The nature of being intelligent. Valuable, and often come too late. " You are simply a cat. Stuck between establishing newfound loyalty and raising a claw against kin. One is of course…treason to the other. " he semi-circles, pacing with the course of his words and open thought.

He whips his chin to the small brown tom, though the words are without error in truth they mustn’t go without reprimand. Fortunately, Howlfire beats him to it. He was about to just start collecting stones and lobbing at the tom’s head at this point.

Howlfire knew better than most, to have your world divided and bleeding at the seams. The death of Morningpaw, a testament to that sacrifice. He falls quiet in respects to that, his eyes turned upon Howlfire with a nod in agreement.

⛤ OOC INFORMATION REFERENCE ⛤

• —
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  forty-eight mns. EVENT TRACKER | IMPORTANT INFO
  — Former Lead warrior of Skyclan 12.22.22 - 06.2023
  — Father of Coyotecrest, Eveningsun and Scorpionpaw
  — mentoring Teeveepaw formerly Snowpath & Quillstrike
  — very muscular piebald black and white tom with spiky fur and cold silver-grey eyes.
  — voice & accent
  — biography･ﾟ✧​
  OPEN for Dice battles | stine#3004
  
• 
  
  

​

 

[Fireflyglow]

"The warrior code was made for a reason. Cats died so that code could be put in place." Fireflyglow's voice is a deep, low rumble of warning as he walks over. His eyes are wide with withheld emotions at the news, the ever-burning wound of Morningpaw's death stinging like a blazing fire. His sister had died for that code to be made. How many stupid cats would choose to ignore it in favor of keeping their connections with their past lives?

"My baby sister died because she refused to fight her kin in another Clan. Many good cats have died because they chose to ignore that law." He settles the cats present with a look of distaste in his eyes. "If you wish to live amongst us, you must follow our codes. Your past life becomes null the moment you become SkyClan." He scoffs softly, moving to brush his side up against Howlfire's to comfort himself. He remembered that day clear as ever. "The next time they show up, make sure your clanmates are there to have your back and then drive them out."​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT ✦ 24 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[Chickbloom]

Chickbloom had been in a fight. A real fight, with tooth, claw, and danger. It was nothing like he’d imagined; how quickly it had exploded from tense argument to total war thanks to Quillstrike, or the constant yowls of anger and anguish around him. The baby bird was still shaking.

And now, it seemed the warrior was caught in a different sort of battle, his friends arraigned against the cat that could be argued to be responsible for all of it. As expected, Slate calls for the harshest solution. And, as expected, Chickbloom finds himself disagreeing with the grumpy tomcat. The coward opposes most of them, actually, even more sympathetic voices like Howlfire. Of course he felt bad siding against comrades, but the boy couldn’t help how he felt.

No matter how it was spun, amber eyes just couldn’t see how any of this was Kite’s fault; even his hesitation to fight. The former kittypet knew what it was like to be stuck in two worlds, and especially how it felt when one intruded on the other. “I - Uh - I agree with B-Bat. S-Sort of, I think…” With how the other spoke, it was honestly hard to tell. “K-Kite is one of us, we shouldn’t…y’know…” The baby bird trailed off, much more wary of his words than the peculiarly-accented tomcat had been. “If the r-rouges come back, then we’ll just - just d-drive them off again. And - y’know - again and a-again, until they get it.”

Yolk-splashed legs were shaking even as he spoke, and it was certainly tough talk from someone fresh off their first battle (which more seasoned warriors would rightly call a skirmish), but Chickbloom was holding his ground. If the rouges were strangers he’d suggest running, but since they were connected to someone in Skyclan, what other solution was there?​

 

[KITE]

✦​

Slate towers over the small tabby, just as many of these forest cats do. Kite looks stunted besides the brutish Maine Coon, like a kitten being chastised by their father. It causes Kite to straighten, adjusting their posture-- they're not used to this feeling of intimidation. But they remain calm, keeping eye contact with the brutish tom, nodding warily at his concerns. It's all concerns Kite expects to be voiced, there is nothing they wouldn't ask themselves were they the interrogators. Kite regards Slate impassively, eyes evenly holding his gaze, before murmuring, "Your concerns are valid... Slate. I only associate with Wolf, who is here with me now. I have no... desire to speak to them any longer." Kite inhales, recalling the immediate outburst of violent behavior from their siblings. "I have left behind my family-- no easy task-- for I hope for a life more fulfilling than the Twolegplace offers. I gladly wish to stregthen your ranks." No matter what Kite has to say, they're certain Slate will not believe them. Kite must only prove they can trustworthy through acts of service to Skyclan. Words may be fruitless.

Kite wishes to speak more with Slate, but a nuisance named Bat decides his input is much to be desired. Kite made themself available to questioning for real Skyclanners, not the wannabes that shadow and have hardly proved themselves, despite a month of shadowing... Kite's tail lashes irritability at Bat's undesired commentary. "Bat, these are important concerns Slate has raised about myself... what he voices is not nonsense." Kite rises to their paws and exhales harshly, rolling their green eyes at Bat. Perhaps common ground can be found between themself and Kite in their shared dislike of Bat.

"Howlfire," Kite greets the chocolate torbie airily with a polite tip of their head. They're proud that they've picked up on the names of warriors so quickly. "I'm afraid that I would not know how to begin... requesting they stop. My family, they are not easy to reason with..." Kite's trails off, they think of the consequences they may face if they were to ask them to stop... sure, as if Kite can just "demand" them around.

Next, Kite must address the concerns of the collective concerns of the interrogators. The matter of kin. At the border, Kite had been torn between keeping every individual safe... if Kite had fought their own siblings, Kite feared that Skyclan would frown against that ruthlesness... but this is a law, within the clans? To lay down the ties of kinship in defense of their clan? If that is the case... "I have much to learn about the code, the laws which this clan follows. I desire to know as much as I can... But it has only 4 days since I was welcomed." Kite lets their gaze gather across the small gathering. "I feared that had I defended the border, as I would gladly do in any other scenario, that I'd lose what little trust I built... I had though if I laid a paw onto my kin, I would face judgement for such violence... I wondered: Would I be seen as a traitor to my kind, for the ease at which I would turn on family; I know naught of what is desired from me. I did what I thought best in the moment, I attempted to be a mediator of sorts, prevent more violence between Duskpool and my brother. I do not know yet what is expected of myself... but I plead with you all now."

They cast their eyes downwards, it is hard to find words to describe the mental struggle of this overwhelming need to prove themself to Skyclan. Kite promises, glacing up at Fireflyglow, "I promise, if and when my siblings return, I will prove myself to you all, there is nothing more I desire. Now I know what is expected of me..." Kite shifts on their paws. Already, a spark had been ignited in themselves just hours prior-- a desire to protect, to cherish this clan-- and this will only be only stoked as time goes on.

"I intend to serve this clan. I know... I am walking a thin line... my past is my past though, but I do not beg for grace in this matter. I must earn trust, a solid standing here. I intend to show not just you all here--" Kite's characteristically deadpan face hardens to show resolve as they continue breathily, "--but the entirety of the clan. I insist you just give me... time."

———————---****KEEP IT ALL INSIDE******———————---​

✦ UNTIL WE FEEL WE CAN’T UNLEASH

•  
• — black tabby with a slim physique and compact muscles, tags
  — 38, ages every 21st
  — they/them or she/her
  — bisexual
  — wary to trust
  — speech
  — peaceful powerplay allowed

​

​

 

[SLATE]

Irises narrow into malicious slits as his fiery hues lock onto the brown-hued tom who, as usual, has something utterly unproductive to contribute to the conversation. How did he know that Slate was a former rogue? It was not something that he discussed openly, unless one of the other warriors had brought it up for one reason or another. The use of personal information against Slate by this waste of space only riled the Maine Coon's temper. Batscreech had poked the bear, it seems, as his tufted charcoal pelt bristled madly and his broad muzzle crinkled in a snarl, "You forget yourself. You aren't even a full warrior of SkyClan runnin' your mouth to a lead warrior." He was considered lesser than a newborn kit in Slate's eyes. Batscreech has not proven himself to bring any value at all to SkyClan; all he was good for was flapping his jaws and making snarky comments in that dumb, hardly intelligible voice of his. "I've had it up to here with you," The burly Maine Coon adds emphasis by harshly gesturing with his paw, ivory claws beginning to side from their sheaths. "So you'd better watch your fuckin' mouth while talkin' to me before I drag you outta' here myself and dump you right back into that hellhole where you came from." The hellhole where Slate had come from, too. Only, the difference between Slate and Batscreech—and Kite, too—was that he had been a part of SkyClan for more than enough seasons to prove his loyalty. They had not. Slate was not one of them — he was not a murderous, lawless rogue. If Batscreech wanted to insist that he was, then he'd have no issue with forcing his trap shut himself.

Thistleback and Howlfire say their pieces in agreement with his sentiment, his bushy tail still twitching as he begins to simmer down from his angry rebuke of Batscreech. Fireflyglow even brings up a point that no cat had mentioned previously — the Warrior Code. Slate had not been a SkyClanner at the time of the establishment of the first law. It had taken him a long while to realize what loyalty truly meant, that he could not be a rogue and warrior at the same time. Shedding the baggage and weight of his past life was a hard road, one that he truthfully still struggled with from time to time, but Slate undoubtedly considered himself a full clan cat now.

The only cat whose opinion Slate opposes is Chickbloom's, to no surprise. The younger warrior's naivety disgusted the Maine Coon, so much so that he wrinkled his nose and cast a disapproving glare toward him. "You seem real intent on trustin' rogues when they've attacked and slaughtered several of us within the last few moons alone." Thank the stars Chickbloom wasn't in any sort of position of power. Slate nearly snorts, briefly imagining a reality where Chickbloom led SkyClan and allowed in any cat just because of his trusting nature. "Ignorant and naive cats like you are exactly what will land SkyClan in big trouble." Even more warm-hearted cats like Howlfire and Fireflyglow were not blind to the dangers that any newcomer could potentially bring.

Kite makes a case for themselves, their reasoning weak in his opinion and barely skating by as believable. Slate has no reason to trust what they say as they could be lying to make themselves look better and buy time. Begrudgingly, Slate grants them the benefit of the doubt and emphasizes, "If your siblings inch so much as a hair over our borders again, then they will be killed on sight. If you're so eager to prove yourself as one of us, then you'll be expected to do the same. There is no exception." There couldn't be any exceptions. Slate, Thistleback, Silversmoke, and even Blazestar himself had all given up their past lives and had wholly dedicated themselves to SkyClan. It had been no easy task, even Slate could admit, but now he undoubtedly knew where his place was. Now, only time would tell if Kite would do the same or if they wouldn't be able to choose SkyClan over their kin.

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 ✹ .　 + 　˚ 　　 · 　 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐄

• retro to his demotion obvs sdkcvkwsdkf

• 

• 

  a lead warrior of skyclan, slate is forty-one moons and is mentoring coffeepaw. he is a hulking longhaired maine coon with black fur and prominent reddish rusting on his chest and belly. scars litter his form but are prominently present on his face. ✦

​

 

[Batscreech]

The entire situation devolved into utter hysteria, voices overlapping one another with Slate borderline screaming in order to be heard above everyone else who were desperate to get a word in. Overall, most were in agreement in their suspicion over Kite and the recent events, and Bat himself found it justifyable despite not having said as much initially. He was surprised to hear Chickbloom speak up among the fray as well- although his opinion held stark contrast to the majority, it was unlike him to display such assertiveness- or at least whatever would constitute as assertive given his anxious nature. Bat's ears swivelled in his direction in silent acknowledgement, his gaze softening just slightly for only a moment before Slate reared his oversized head to face him.

He spat venom, siting the fact that Bat had not yet shown where his allegiances truly lie similar to Kite, and that he had no right to criticize Slate of all people given his former status as a rogue- the very kind of plague that had been attempting to steal away wary warriors when they least expected it. Bat's eye twitched and his eyes grew hollow as he allowed Slate to defend himself in whatever way he saw fit- this battle-hardened tom had no idea what kind of circumstances led him to turning rogue in the first place. It was not a matter of choice. Was it a matter of choice for him as well? Or simply a victim of circumstance and the desperation to survive? Bat had no shame in it the way Slate did. He did not have to be told who was and was not clan born, for those who had been chewed up and spat out from the jaws of bloodied streets and industrialized towers snuffing out a hope filled sky of endless blue recognized the fire and the ache permanently encased within the outer shell of one anothers optics, should they only look. It was impossible to hide.

Before he had the opportunity to respond, Kite pitched in with her own comment about how Slate's concerns were indeed valid and deserving of an explanation. This prompted a twitch of the eye from Bat, for their tone was interpreted as condescending by his ever defensive mind. "No need 't get brassed off. I'm with 'im." He glanced back at Slate for a moment, having turned his attention to Kite upon hearing their voice. "I'm with 'im..." Bat repeated. "...But he won't bite yer arm off if yer a wayward dive city civvie, even if yer worth takin' a chance on." Bat's words were vague, the way he stared directly into and possibly even through Slate seeming to indicate something deeper than a simple string of nearly incomprehensible words. His tone was stern, but lacked the initial bite and sting from before- he was not throwing blind insults anymore, nor was he even getting back at him for any petty squabble. Why should Slate be given the opportunity to grow into more than what he ever could be on the streets, and now refuse to show a single sliver of the same faith and leverage in others who he once could have shared a street skirmish with? He was unfair and brash, and he didn't even know it- but Bat was surely no better. Perhaps they were similar in that way, despite one of them being arguably much more honorable in comparison. For the amount of callousness Slate was so known for airing out, his love and loyalty for what he had built for himself was admirable. And it was also something Bat himself did not possess, and maybe that in itself is what made him lesser in comparison.

However, Slate was on a rampage now. Going after not only Kite the potential perpetrator, but Chickbloom as well. Chickbloom, who did not deserve it- who had fought alongside his clanmates but without the guidance of his mentor- but above all, Chickbloom who had bore witness to the dangers Kite had led to them and wore the turmoil upon his flesh where Slate did not. Bat slunk closer to Chickbloom in an uncharacteristically protective manner as Slate threw daggers from his tongue, his pelt brushing against his as he placed himself halfway between the whelp and Slate.

He said nothing, though his lip twitched in a silent warning before the much more formidable tom- who honestly seemed more like a cataclysmic wolf at times- twisted around to address Kite once more. After a moments pause, Bat turned to look at the yolk pelted tom beside him. He had not been a part of the skirmish himself, though he had caught wind of what Chickbloom had done amongst the incessant camp chatter. It was admittedly unbelievable, and yet Thistleback was never one to throw around baseless lies and gossip. "Keep yer head up, mate." Bats tone was gravelly in its delicacy, his viridian optics losing their initial fire as they reverted back to their perpetually exhausted looking appearance. He didn't give the distraught tom a chance to respond, instead turning away to take a rather limp looking stance elsewhere.​

 

[Fireflyglow]

Fireflyglow listens to Kite's words with a neutral expression, his ear flicking to and fro as he listened to Slate's tirade about loyalty. His tail twitches then, a paw lifting up to his chin as claws scratch at the bushy fur there. Slate wasn't wrong- he was harsh, but his words were true nonetheless. Despite this, his claw-like words towards Chickbloom makes Firefly shoot the maine coon a warning glance. He had a lot of respect for cats like Silversmoke and Slate, who were willing to throw everything away for their Clan to protect it. But being a leader meant that you had to be open to contradictions and opposing opinions when they came. He blinks then, his expression softening as Bat comforts his friend.

His attention returns to Kite, head tilting to the side as owlishly wide eyes stare blindly in their direction. "You will learn, with time. Some of us.. Some of us had to learn the hard way." He seems to stare past the other cats, as if looking through them despite the fact that he couldn't see. "Slate's words are harsh, but he means well. He loves this Clan, and he wants to keep everyone safe." He stands then, rolling his shoulders before he waves his tail, done with his words of wisdom.

"Perhaps another class on the Warrior Code is necessary, Slate. It never hurts to re-educate." He says over his shoulder with a teasing grin, before he disappears back into the medicine den.

// out!!​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT ✦ 24 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​