camp WINTER WALTZ / rta

[VENOMSTRIKE]

BUT AFTER WE'VE WEATHERED — Everything was hell, Windclan felt less and less like home only becoming a nightmare by the passing seconds. Kittens being taken from their own clan, the moor queen seemed more insane by the day, and those cats that defended her so loyally despite everything that's happening and how it was all so wrong. He had recovered a week or so ago yet he had kept to himself due to certain circumstances that made his heart ache and the beating organ felt heavy in his own chest, Venomstrike feeling a puff of air leave him and clouds of white form around his parting scarred jaws. A part of him wishes that he could simply close his eyes and wish that it was all some horrid dream or Starclan would tear away the rest of Sootstar's lives, sometimes, his own mind allowing him a single morbid thought of his own teeth tearing into the jugular of the queen yet he keeps this to himself not wanting to expose himself to her loyalists or he'd be a dead cat. These thoughts not uttered to a single soul and kept to himself, the thought frightening for a heartbeat considering that it's not something he would wish upon someone yet... A maddened kit thief who claimed Highstones as her own territory. That adder should've taken all of her lives.

He walks into camp with a hare snared in his jaws and his large ears flick, he doesn't even feel comfortable being in camp wishing that he had stayed in the Badger set where he needn't worry about anyone. His eyes on his paws not wanting to risk looking up and seeing a familiar bicolored pelt, his ears lay flat against his skull suddenly feeling very saddened by the thought of her. Its enough to distract him and run into someone else, his hackles immediately rising with tension unaware of who he had ran into as his pupils narrow into thin slits.

/feel free to be the cat he ran into :]

HELL AND HIGH WATER ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ TO LAY HERE TOGETHER

• 

• 
  ➷ shorthaired lilac/black tabby chimera with buttercup hued eyes
  ➷ 46 moons old; ages the 18th every month
  ➷ bisexual homoromantic; padding after rattleheart
  ➷ currently mentoring redpaw
  ➷ easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset
  ➷ semi-difficult in combat; relies on brute strength, his large size, and endurance
  ➷ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ➷ peaceful powerplay allowed

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[PEONYBREEZE]

❀༉˖° The air had gotten more and more... suffocating, to say the least. With recent struggles and defeats, it was only understandable that most cats felt on edge, but Peonypaw was painfully aware that you could not glance in any direction and not see someone with a frown, or with their hackles raised, or with their muzzle bristling with tension.

When would this end? Time and time again he felt the need to vanish and to ignore the elephant in the room. It was easier that way, and he couldn't believe himself for thinking that way, but...

Peonyaw grunted when he collided with something solid on his way out of camp, and the moment he tipped his head back to look what what- who it was, he froze.

Stark green eyes looked his way. Peonypaw could only guess what Venomstrike was feeling and maybe he would be right or so very wrong - he almost looked scary.

"Are you... okay?" He found himself muttering those words, the ones he knew to be unhelpful. Of course not. Venomstrike would not look so frenzied otherwise.

°
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[Bluepool]

It has been a time since she had last lain eyes on Venomstrike. The brown furred tom seemed to have been making himself scarce but honestly could Bluepool blame him? Could she blame anybody? She is surprised when the answer is yes. Like it or not, WindClan needed him. They needed every last cat that they had, regardless of if they agreed with her sister's choices or not. She spares him a glance when finally he returns, walking into camp as if he had not been malingering for the past week. At least he had the decency to bring prey back with him. There is a lack of something in his eyes that makes Bluepool feel uncomfortable so instead she looks away, pretends not to see it though admittedly this action only serves to make her feel worse somehow.

When he runs into Peonypaw is when she finally dares to look up again, the apprentices voice filled with worry makes her own eybrows knit together as she studies her fellow warrior. Perhaps he really was still sick. "Maybe you should go and get checked out by Wolfsong" she suggests, rolling her striped blue shoulders, sore from her run earlier.

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[SCORCHSTAR]

Scorchstreak’s days have been busy, almost unbearably so. The calico has always been a hard worker, driving themself as hard as they can, and as winter sets in they know that the clan needs all the hunters that it can get. So as they see a familiar form enter the camp with a hare in tow, they allow their posture to relax into something casual rather than focused. "Venomstrike," they greet the larger tom, dipping their russet-patched head to him as they typically do. They don’t know the moor runner too well, but they know that Rattleheart cares for him; they have yet to decide whether they like or resent Venomstrike for it. In one direction, they are glad that there is someone who may have Rattleheart’s back if the clan begins to crumble, but in the other direction, they feel an overwhelming protectiveness over their sibling. If this tom hurts Rattleheart, he will meet a fate worse than just a nest full of thorns.

Peonypaw and Bluepool each ask their own questions, telling of their concern for Venomstrike’s wellbeing. The calico hadn’t noticed it at first, but now she spots it—the exhaustion that seems to weigh down his every step."Did it kick you?" She knows the power of a hare’s hind legs, having taken a few near-devastating blows to the chest before. Of course, Venomstrike is a much sturdier feline than she, built with a broadness that Scorchstreak does not possess. Still, being nailed in the chest by a panicking hare can cause damage to even the most resilient of WindClanners. If he’s been kicked, perhaps a visit to Wolfsong is in order after all.
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[ BE A FIRE, BURN THIS DOWN ]​

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[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── Though Scorchstreak sounds to believe Venomstrike's demeanor is one caused by injury, Wolfsong does not agree. The set of his ears, his shoulders, the bowing of his head— it is as though some large, unseeable paw attempts to flatten him to the earth, and he would wager his heart feels that pressure most of all. Something clearly troubles him. Wolfsong had thought the warrior would be unburdened by his recovery from illness, and yet here he is, so distracted he did not notice Peonypaw.

"I do not think he needs my aid for any physical ailment," he murmurs, in part to Bluepool, in part to Scorchstreak. Then his gaze returns to the larger warrior, who worked beside Wolfsong to fashion the gorse fence for his young kits. A kind soul who should not struggle so. "But if there is a weight on the mind and chest, I would gladly ease those burdens, Venomstrike."
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WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 41 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
  — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
  — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
  — ★★★☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart and his own pregnancy, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

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[REDHEART]

Due to his mentors absence the youth had taken on a sort of independent nature the last moon. Venomstrike had gone cold and he wasn't sure just how to break it. Instead they chose to follow after patrols, pair up with other apprentices, and spend an awful amount of alone time. A stark contrast to his life before Yellowcough and the Rogues. In a way the pain and trauma of it all morphed him into something new and less enthusiastic.

Especially, with Sootstar's loyalists running amuck and his friend seemingly looking up to the twisted Moor Queen. He never felt more alone amongst clanmates than Redpaw currently did. Considering where the youth had started it seemed his life reeled back twenty pages and stuck him in the eyes of scrutiny. Slowly, he emerged from the apprentice den. Blinking away the rest from tired gaze and yawning wide.

Naps were more frequent in their day to day as not many warriors tended to chastise him. Giving them a strange exception from time to time. Walking towards the prey pile he was surprised to hear a sudden chorus of meows. Halting in his path the ruddy tom peered curiously at the back of Wolfsong. Green gaze widening from the site of Venomstrike with hackles raised. He had only spotted his mentor twice before this and each time was coiled up in their nest resting.

Afraid to lose this moment he dropped the previous task and rushed over. Worry written clear as day on the Apprentice's velvety muzzle. Catching the tail end of the Medicine Cat's spiel removed several of the weights on his heart. A small smile crawled onto Redpaw's muzzle as he looked at the large frame of his Mentor amongst the other cats kindly. He could spare them a token of love for the many moons they'd watched and nurtured him. Maybe just maybe if he was good enough Venomstrike would finally see him again.

Clearing his throat he meowed a simple. "H-Hi. I'm glad you're okay." Feathery tail wrapping around himself protectively as nerves ran up the paws' back.​