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Post by Deleted on Oct 26, 2016 0:18:05 GMT -5
Someday I'll die, but not tonight.
Blazefang was confident that sitting around camp for moons on end while his stupid leg healed was far more torturous than the breaking and resetting combined. Every time he thought he was about to lose his mind and nearly leaped up to race across the meadow just to DO something, he forcibly reminded himself that if his leg didn't heal properly, he would be forced to become an elder. That thought alone struck such a chord of fear in him that it managed to keep him relatively subdued in his nest. If his leg didn't heal properly, he was just going to ask Rookfrost to kill him and put him out of his misery. No WAY was he becoming an elder.
But he'd reached his limit. He could no longer lay around camp doing nothing, not for one heartbeat more. So he rose unsteadily to his paws, keeping his weight off his mostly healed leg for fear of messing it up, and hobbled as quickly as he dared away from camp. Every couple steps, he put a little more weight on his bad leg, testing it. It should be healed by now, right? He must have put a little too much weight on it after one step, because it buckled, feeling weak though not painful, and he stumbled.
And there was a familiar brown pelt at his side, catching him and holding him up as he regained his balance. He blinked at his brother in surprise, then his ears flattened, “Don't you dare tell me to go back to my nest or I'll claw your whiskers off! I've had ENOUGH of my nest. I need to DO something! I'm going to go crazy if I lay around camp for one more day doing ab-so-lute-ly nothing.” He glared at Mudpelt defiantly, his claws flexing as he prepared for the inevitable argument to ensue where Mudpelt would try to do the stupid, boring, responsible thing and ruin all his fun, and he would then be forced to claw his brother's stupid whiskers off so he would know how damned serious he was. He was NOT going back to his nest.
Excuse me while I light up the sky. Fawn Hellion (will tag you again in a couple posts for Petalrain to come in, I just wanted you to be aware I had finally made it xD)
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Post by Fawn on Oct 26, 2016 16:09:21 GMT -5
Though Mudpelt would admit it to no one, he had expected this day to arrive much sooner then it actually did. Both bracing his shoulder against his brother's added weight and keeping his jaw tightly shut so as not to do exactly what Blazefang growled not to, Mudpelt helped the tabby warrior out of camp before anyone could stop them.
"The fresh air should help," he mewed in that quiet, rational tone of his, voice deep and somber like an echo in a cave. "You're not an elder. You should stretch your leg before the snow gets here." Rookfrost didn't look... so well, and while Mudpelt did not doubt Kindleflare's ability to step up in the black tom's place (especially when it came to the well-being of kin), he couldn't stop himself from wanting to take Blazefang's health into his own paws.
"I'll walk with you every morning, if you'd like." Mudpelt half expected Blazefang to refuse. In which case, he would still follow his brother out just after dawn, to be there if he should stumble, and to fetch help if he ever needed it. If interrogated, he would say that he was out hunting; if Blazefang accused him of trying to kitsit him, Mudpelt would feign ignorance. There was a faint smile on the brown tom's dark earth-toned muzzle, his expression looking almost pleasant, all things considered.
Blinking with affection, Mudpelt murmured, his heart lightening as they ambled towards the Sun Stones. "I missed your empty threats, Blazefang." Mudpelt even managed to deliver a little deadpan humor. "No one else says such violent things to their littermates just for trying to help, at least, not like you do." They probably weren't empty threats (he still recalled all too accurately how Gustclaw and Blazefang had near shredded each other, both upon his arrival and during their apprenticeships before that), but Mudpelt knew Blazefang was only stir crazy. He could understand the need to do something.
Mudpelt didn't really give himself much time for leisure; even with an injury, the forced relaxation would have driven him equally as desperate as to sneak out of camp. Though it would more than likely be to collect moss for the nursery or the apprentices' bedding, not to take a stroll near the border.
389 words - @zen - notes MUDPELT lightningclan warrior. 25 moons. you may encounter many defeats but you must not be defeated. in fact it may be necessary to encounter the defeats so you can know who you are, what you can rise from
how you can still come out of it |
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Post by Deleted on Oct 26, 2016 19:12:25 GMT -5
Someday I'll die, but not tonight.
Again, Blazefang blinked in surprise at his brother. This time because he hadn't been so predictable and argued with him over the right thing for him to do. Well. That was good. Now he didn't have to claw his brother's whiskers off. He took most of his weight back onto his own paws, more careful with his healed leg now that he knew where his limit with it was. He felt a swell of affection that Mudpelt had been right there when he needed him. He had missed that surety in his life while he'd been gone, the constant support of family, should he ever need it. He grinned over at Mudpelt, “Too bad you didn't argue, I'd like to see how funny you look with no whiskers.” Blazefang's own special form of gratitude at its finest.
His ears twitched uncertainly as his brother offered to walk with him every morning. He had nearly agreed immediately, eager for the contact, to have his brothers around him again as they hunted and patrolled side by side. But then he remembered he didn't want to see TOO eager about it. He had always appreciated his brothers, what with all the loss they had endured together, but after being alone for so long, trapped, maddeningly helpless, he appreciated them even more. He hated it when they left him alone in camp, when they were out of his sight, unreachable in his weakness. He wanted to cling to them like a burr, and yet the thought of it made him disgusted with himself.
Part of him was afraid Gray would find them. That psycho had followed him and would find his brothers, the cats he cared about most, and he would do terrible things to them, to punish him for leaving. Part of him knew he was being crazy himself. Gray was dead. Wasn't he? Hadn't he killed him? He shuddered, stumbling and pausing to brace himself against Mudpelt again as a shiver ran through him. He felt heat rising under his pelt and pulled away a moment later, agreeing gruffly to his brother's suggestion of morning walks, “Yeah sure, whatever. With or without you, doesn't matter. I guess it makes sense to start doing it now before it snows too, in case any cat tries to stop us.”
He shot a glare at his brother at the mention of his 'empty' threats. “Yeah? You just test that idea out and see how empty they are,” he growled, moving on toward the sun stones. His ears pricked as they neared, his lashing a few times in both excitement and annoyance, “I should have been part of that patrol that took sun stones. I haven't had a good fight in so long.” He paused on a low, flat stone, scraping his claws against it and looking around triumphantly, as though he had just won them all for himself. He looked back at Mudpelt, “When do you think StoneClan is gonna try to take them back? I'm definitely fighting then. No way we'll lose them.” He grinned again, casting his gaze over the border into StoneClan territory as if expecting a patrol to come charging out right then.
Excuse me while I light up the sky. Fawn
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Post by Fawn on Oct 27, 2016 19:53:32 GMT -5
It had taken Blazefang no time at all to zero in on the fact that Sun Stones were now a part of this territory. Mudpelt mentally winced, looking at the wide, flat, warm rocks they were headed towards. "I don't think it will be long. Though StarClan knows the Clans have more important things to do than argue over rocks." Or so I had thought.
The brown warrior had felt deeply uneasy after Firestar had laid out her battle plans concerning the Sun Stones; to take them during the Gathering was... It seemed in poor taste; disrespectful, even. He was glad his brother had not participated in that fight, even if he was the only one; outnumbered two-to-one by LightningClan, Mudpelt had a suspicion that Blazefang wouldn't be able to resist making it worse for them by bloodying up anycat he came across during that confrontation.
"I wouldn't say it was a good fight," Mudpelt replied, his ears flattening briefly as he recounted what had already been told to him by those that had participated. "We outnumbered StoneClan, and bullied them into giving up the Stones. I don't think it was the fight you were looking for, Blazefang." It wasn't his intention to be such a stick in the mud, but... He could not prevent his own mind and heart from finding fault with Firestar's decision to take the Sun Stones; it aided them little, in the coming leafbare, and it had been captured in such a way that he didn't understand how Firestar and Redscar weren't more.... unsettled by the idea.
Do they even care about the Code? What did their ancestors think of this? He considered asking Kindleflare, but did he have any right to? The Medicine Cat meetings were private, and he had no business prying into StarClan's affairs as if he were anything more than what he was - a simple warrior of LightningClan. 316 words - @zen - notes MUDPELT lightningclan warrior. 25 moons. you may encounter many defeats but you must not be defeated. in fact it may be necessary to encounter the defeats so you can know who you are, what you can rise from
how you can still come out of it |
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Post by Deleted on Oct 28, 2016 0:18:03 GMT -5
Someday I'll die, but not tonight.
Narrowing his eyes at his brother's less than enthusiastic response about their win over the sun stones, Blazefang flicked his tail at him, his tone giving away his clear exasperation, “You really are no fun at all. If we're not gonna fight each other we might as well all just be one big ValleyClan. We're warriors. Warriors fight. Real warriors anyway.” His ears twitched back and he did his best not to look at his stupid leg, looking back over the border instead. “I bet this is probably just the FIRST move. Firestar is sure to move the border again before leaf-bare, give us more territory to hunt.”
He of course had no idea what Firestar's plans were at all, but he sure HOPED he was right, that a chance to fight would present itself soon. His head snapped back to his brother, his eyes narrowing yet again. “Honestly, Mudpelt, what sort of warrior are you? Any fight you win is a good fight. It means you were stronger, smarter, better prepared, more capable of surviving...,” he trailed off as his eyes glazed over slightly, remembering the sharp metallic taste of Gray's blood on his tongue, warm and bubbling down his chin as the filthy tom thrashed beneath his fangs until he grew still and cold.
That had been no fight, not really. Gray had been asleep. He hadn't had a chance to fight. The older tom had managed to claw him up a bit while he thrashed desperately at him, but his strikes had been wild with panic, not planned, not precise, nothing anything but the futile flailing of a cat that was already dead. Blazefang blinked a few times, shaking his head to clear away the memory. Gray was dead. He HAD killed him. He was sure. He thought he was sure. He glanced around, suddenly aware of how open and vulnerable they were, and grew wary of the shadows. Fighting what he was sure was an irrational fear, he took a few steps along the border, “... C'mon. No use just standing here. We might as well do some scentmarking while we're out, right? Be responsible and... all that stuff you're always going on about.”
Excuse me while I light up the sky. Fawn
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Post by Fawn on Oct 29, 2016 15:58:53 GMT -5
“You really are no fun at all. If we're not gonna fight each other we might as well all just be one big ValleyClan."
Mudpelt tried to listen respectfully to his brother's horribly inaccurate retelling of what it meant to be a warrior, but he found himself going deaf, his jaw fixed shut as if glued together by sap. He dared not argue - not only would it be an exhausting endeavor, but Blazefang was set in his ways. Like his leg, nothing short of a major, painful break was going to make him change for the better; and that was fine with him.
Blazefang was Blazefang. Always had been, always would be. But couldn't he pay a little more respect to the Warrior Code? It was the foundation of Clan life, and had been created for a reason. Mudpelt was unfamiliar with the stories of the earliest days of the Clans, but they mattered little; all that mattered was that the Code had continued to endure despite hardship and cats like his brother who would have wiped his paws on the Code if it was right in front of him.
"Okay. We'll mark along the perimeter - it's a foxlength past the stones - then take a break." Mudpelt, using the tone he applied to Sunnypaw during their training sessions, did not bother to look at Blazefang. He knew how frustrated his brother was by his condition; Mudpelt sympathized, but he also followed instructions. Especially the kind of instructions that could mean a crippled leg or a whole, if not followed properly.
Touching Blazefang's shoulder with the end of his earth-hued tail, Mudpelt stepped onto the warm stones, the rock pleasant under his paws after such a cool day. It might help with the stiffness if he lays down here for a while. Mudpelt considered bringing it up, but that would risk getting snapped at for treating him like an elder.
There was the hope that Blazefang would get the same idea, and then lay down on the stones without giving it much thought, but Mudpelt wasn't holding his breath. If this conversation had taught him anything about his brother, it's that how different they were; how differently they thought.
366 words - @zen - notes MUDPELT lightningclan warrior. 25 moons. you may encounter many defeats but you must not be defeated. in fact it may be necessary to encounter the defeats so you can know who you are, what you can rise from
how you can still come out of it |
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