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Post by Deleted on May 5, 2017 15:55:14 GMT -5
Blazefang found himself heading to Kindeflare's den for the third time since he had resumed full warrior duties. It had taken quite a bit of rehabilitation and Kindleflare still hadn't been certain when he'd demanded to return to his place as a warrior and not some useless waste of space lounging about camp all day. His leg still hurt. A lot. Just walking around wasn't so bad, but when he was on it for long periods of time, like for a patrol, it really started to ache. And when he was pounding after rabbits and hares, it could get downright excruciating. He had never been the best hunter, especially when it came to rabbits and hares, but with his leg causing such pain, he was becoming more of a hindrance on hunts than anything else, and it was pissing him off.
It was always after chasing a rabbit that his brother was dragging him off to see Kindleflare. Mudpelt seemed to be sticking to him like a burr since he returned to his warrior duties. It was annoying. After the stress of the chase, he could barely put any weight on his leg, and some times were worse than others. Usually he managed to grit his teeth and bare it just so Mudpelt wouldn't start clucking at him like some hovering mother hen, but other times it was just too bad for him to handle without letting it show. Like today. With his ears flat and his eyes narrowed against the pain, he let Mudpelt take some of his weight as the two of them made their way toward camp after a very unsuccessful hunt, his bad leg dangling uselessly in the air as it throbbed and burned with pain.
“This is all Rookfrost's fault. He messed up my leg on purpose! If he wasn't dead already I'd-” a gasp of pain as he stumbled and instinctively placed his bad leg down to catch himself cut him off. He paused, leaning heavily against Mudpelt and seething with rage that he required his brother's assistance at all. His tail lashed behind him. What sort of warrior couldn't even walk back to the stupid camp without help? His leg was supposed to be healed. What did he suffer through breaking it AGAIN for if it wasn't going to get better!? Stubbornly, he pushed away from Mudpelt and hopped forward on three legs, all on his own, casting a glare back at his brother to keep him from trying to help anymore. The camp was in sight and he wasn't going to be seen stumbling into camp half carried by Mudpelt.
Fawn |
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Post by Fawn on May 5, 2017 16:07:59 GMT -5
Blazefang's injury was excruciating. Not just for the brown tabby warrior, but for his siblings also. Mudpelt was now reduced to fretting over his littermate more than actually conversing with him; and he would find himself hurrying back from patrols to make sure the harebrain hadn't overexerted himself just to prove some kind of point.
A sigh escaped the dark brown maw of the stocky warrior, and that was all the noise he made as he padded beside Blazefang, a moving wall for the tom to brace himself against should he fall again. The truth was staring him right in the face. He just... didn't know how to tell Blazefang. There was no good way to tell Blazefang, and Mudpelt far from envied Kindleflare and her necessary duty of telling his brother that the warrior's lifestyle was no longer... viable.
Mudpelt's steps faltered at the imagery alone, of Blazefang exploding into a ball of teeth and claws and rage, directed at their kin without any sign of remorse. It wouldn't be Kindleflare he was mad at, but himself. Mudpelt had enough foresight into his brother's condition to understand how frustrating, how maddening this all was.
Worst case scenario, Blazefang damaged his leg so badly he couldn't leave his nest. Then developed an addiction to poppy seeds, or outright did something so stupid as to immortalize him in the eyes of his Clanmates forever - while also dying a preferably quick death. Mudpelt couldn't imagine Blazefang as an elder, but that became a real possibility with every agonized step his brother took.
"We're going to see Kindleflare," his voice was stern, and in his brother's weakened state, he could actually bully Blazefang into the medicine cat's den if he needed to. "Don't argue with me. You need to lie down and rest." And stop trying to be a warrior.
StarClan, this is going to kill him. Give him the strength to deal with this misfortune. Mudpelt glanced skyward, picturing his parents' faces. And give us the strength to deal with HIM. MUDPELT lightningclan warrior. 31 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 May 5, 2017 19:58:30 GMT -5
Blazefang bristled at his brother's words, ordering him around like he was just some stupid apprentice or something. He cast a quick glare at him, but the effort of staying on his paws and keep his bad leg off the ground kept him from looking for very long. His tail lashed continually behind him and a growl rumbled in his throat, “I don't need you telling me what to do.” He already knew they were going to see Kindleflare. If nothing else, he wanted something for this pain. There really wasn't anything else to be done. He had no delusions about Kindeflare trying again to fix his leg. This was how it was going to be. All he could do was try to manage the pain... and maybe not hunt rabbits anymore. He could just stick to field mice, pheasants, and quail... they didn't require so much exertion on his leg. While he hated admitting that there was something he couldn't do... the pain just honestly wasn't worth it, especially when literally every time it was for nothing. He hadn't caught a rabbit once since he returned to his warrior duties.
As they reached camp, Blazefang headed straight toward Kindleflare's den, not wanting to hear any more of Mudpelt's badgering. He tried to ignore the way some cats looked at him as he hopped through camp, ears pressed flat. He really couldn't stand that pitying look. The fur along his spine rose as he glared at the entrance to Kindleflare's den as though it was the one giving him offending looks. He wanted nothing more than to tell them all off, he was FINE... but he wasn't fine. He was in a LOT of pain. And he just wanted to get in and out of Kindleflare's den as quickly as possible. He stumbled again, only a few short steps from the den, and hissed in frustration as he was forced to use his bad leg or fall flat on his face in front of StarClan and everyone. Pain shot through him like a lightning bolt and he nearly fell anyway. But Mudpelt was there, as it seemed he always was. He grudgingly allowed his brother to help him into the den, his fur bristling with embarrassment. It wasn't fair. What did he even survive for in the first place? “This is foxdung, Mudpelt...,” he growled softly, and hidden in the unbearable frustration in his voice was a hint of fear.
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Post by Fawn on May 7, 2017 11:26:08 GMT -5
“This is foxdung, Mudpelt..."
Was that fear in his brother's voice? Mudpelt's pelt prickled uncomfortably, the fur between his shoulder-blades sensitive to sharp spikes in emotion. It was disheartening to see Blazefang in this condition. To see anyone he cared about suffering in any way; suffering was unavoidable - but for StarClan's sake, if anyone deserved a little break, why not Dovesong's kits?
What was left of them.
"I know," he murmured, shouldering Blazefang's burdens in the physical and figurative sense. "We'll see what Kindleflare can do." Helping the irate warrior into one of the empty nests in the medicine cat's den, Mudpelt approached his kin, sparing a brief, thin smile before launching into the purpose of their visit.
"Blazefang's leg is paining him again." The stocky brown tom stepped closer, hoping his voice would not carry. Speaking just above a whisper, his somber yellow gaze rested on Kindleflare. "Tell me truthfully, Kindleflare. Will he ever be able to hunt normally? Or fight?" If he can't, then it's time to tell him.
Mudpelt didn't want to make this into a bigger situation than it needed to be, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to have Gustclaw present, also. Unless they both pitch a fit and poor Kindleflare gets the brunt of their frustration. That was unfair to her. Extremely unfair. He would just have to be strong for all of them, and try to get Blazefang through this in any way possible.
But, thought the brown tom dourly, would he thank me for it?
Blazefang might very well prefer death to a life in the elder's den.
MUDPELT lightningclan warrior. 31 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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GaleClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by BlooRey DVD on May 8, 2017 19:04:45 GMT -5
 The LightningClan healer had been busy in her den, leaning into one of the lesser traveled crevasses of her store of herbs, when the two warriors had wandered in. A bundle of sweet smelling herbs was clamped in her jaws, severely hindering her ability to scent the approach. It was for this reason the ginger and white she-cat nearly leapt out of her fur when a voice materialized from inside her den. Squeaking and whirling quickly enough that she tripped herself and managed to headbutt the den wall, Kindleflare winced as she righted herself. Dark amber eyes were wide and struggling to focus on the form of Mudpelt before her as he continued.
It took her a moment to figure out what her cousin had just asked her; Blazefang's form, huddled in one of the empty nests, cleared her confusion. Ears flicking in embarrassment, the LightningClan medicine cat quickly put away the herbs she'd been sorting, before sighing softly. She didn't like the answer she had to offer, and it made her heart constrict in her chest. Slowly shaking her head as discreetly as she could. "I-If... If breaking his leg and res-setting it hasn't worked... I fear there's nothing more I can do."
She looked away as though it were her fault, busying herself by collecting a few dandelion leaves. She worried about giving Blazefang too many poppy seeds, preferring to do so only if it was preventing him from sleeping. After a moment's pause, she gathered some chamomile in hopes of soothing his mind and daisy leaves to ease some of the ache. Ducking passed Mudpelt apologetically, the timid she-cat padded to Blazefang's side. Pushing the dandelion leaves and chamomile forward, she murmured softly to him. "Ch-Chew these." After a moment's hesitation to make sure he followed her instructions, she set to work on chewing the daisy leaves into a pulp to apply to his damaged leg.  |
@zen Fawn Note: 43 moons old |
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Post by Deleted on May 9, 2017 14:20:19 GMT -5
They can't break me as long as I know who I am. They can't see me, but I'm still here.
They can't tell me who to be cause I'm not what they see.
Letting Mudpelt help him into a nest, Blazefang settled into it slowly, careful of his leg, and closed his eyes as his brother padded the short distance away to where Kindleflare was working. His leg was throbbing and he gave it a few slow licks in some attempt to ease the pain, but it did little. He replayed the chase in his mind. The first few bounds hadn't been so bad. Sure, it hadn't felt GOOD, but he'd been able to handle it. Then his paw had slipped on uneven ground, his leg strained, the pain shot through him and the next attempt to put weight on it had it giving out beneath him, sending him tumbling through the grass as the rabbit easily fled to safety. He glared at his leg, as if a stern look could make it shape up and work right.
But what if it never did?
His ears flattened as the thought of what that meant crept in once more. If his leg hadn't healed right... he couldn't be a warrior. He was too young to be an elder, and even if he had been ancient, Blazefang never wanted to retire. Let him go out in a blaze of glory, defending LightningClan from a pack of foxes or an enemy raid. Not like this. He was meant for so much more than this. He had barely even become a warrior before the accident that broke his leg, before that demented rogue had kept him captive for moons on end. His fur bristled at the thought of Gray. He had stolen his warriorhood from him. He had stolen everything. For a moment he hoped it HAD been a dream that he'd killed his captor, just so he could kill him again when he eventually found him. Then the thought of Gray finding him again, finding his brothers, had his heart racing with fear.
He leaped to his paws, back arched in alarm, hissing at the pain in his leg, as Kindleflare spoke beside him. He hadn't even realized she'd approached. He stared at her, wild eyed, before he registered her flame colored fur. Not gray. Not Gray. He sat heavily, settling back down into the nest and trying to pretend as if nothing strange had just happened. He leaned over to chew the leaves Kindleflare had brought for him, focusing intently on the task and not looking at her or Mudpelt at all. He was fighting hard to keep the last trembles of fear from showing, but he realized his fear scent must have already reeked up the entire den and just hoped no cat would say anything about it. He leaped right in to the matter at hand instead, hoping it might distract them enough to leave it alone, “So my leg isn't getting any better. I'm not stupid. So I'll just have to stop chasing rabbits, right? I'll just hunt smaller prey, it doesn't put too much strain on my leg. And you can just keep giving me these leaves. And it'll be fine.” He glared up at Kindleflare, daring her to say otherwise.
Yeah, the world is still sleeping while I keep on dreaming for me,
And their words are just whispers and lies that I'll never believe.
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Post by Fawn on May 9, 2017 18:06:30 GMT -5
Both Mudpelt and Kindleflare nearly leaped out of their fur; the stocky brown tom positively choked on his brother's fear scent, and he stared intensely into the dark parts of the den, as if expecting to find the fox this den had once belonged to. But there was... nothing. His brother was frightened, terrified, even, so much so that he was spooking at shadows and their incredibly unintimidating medicine cat, Kindleflare.
Before he could utter so much as a soothing word, Blazefang was already pushing the subject away, focusing on the real reason they were here. His leg. It couldn't be fixed, and Mudpelt didn't know how much more his brother's psyche could take if someone didn't just... didn't just say it.
"Blazefang," he began, his somber rumble made deeper by the austerity of the moment. "I don't think you should hunt anymore. It's causing you too much pain. Your warrior days are..." Mudpelt hesitated, tone softening, though he knew the blow would still strike hard. "Your warrior days are over, brother."
Mudpelt braced himself for the anguish and the fury. It brought him no pleasure to sink his teeth into Blazefang's only goal in life and rip it to shreds like tufts of dandelion fluff. If there was any positive thing to be accrued from this, it was that Kindleflare would finally be spared his brother's fiery, fiendish glare, as if he were just looking for a good reason to blame her.
Mudpelt would take the blame. It didn't matter if he deserved it or not. Blazefang needed a target. Something to rage at, or else he'd never be able to accept it. The same thing had happened when their parents died, and Pigeonpaw, and Galekit. In a way, this was another death. A death of who Blazefang once was, and none were going to feel the shock of it worse than his brother.
"It's newleaf, injuries and aches are always worse in colder weather. If you have trouble hunting now, leaf-fall and leafbare are going to be impossible. I'm sorry, Blazefang. I am." An orange-yellow gaze rested on the other tom's. "We have to accept the truth and move forward from there." MUDPELT lightningclan warrior. 31 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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| Conquer the monster in your head, and then you'll fly |
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GaleClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by BlooRey DVD on May 11, 2017 18:07:10 GMT -5
The ginger and white she-cat nearly choked on the daisy leaves, shrinking slightly under the weight of Blazefang's gaze. Her heart froze mid-beat, and she felt as though she'd lost the ability to breathe for several moments. Wide, dark amber eyes stared back at Blazefang's challenging glower, Kindleflare very much convinced her legs would give out beneath her if she was forced to face that much longer. StarClan sent her a savior in the form of Mudpelt, however, as her cousin stepped out to snag the injured warrior's ire by delivering the terrible news she had no doubt Blazefang did not want to hear.
Ducking her head to finish preparing the daisy leaves for application on Blazefang's leg, she listened silently to Mudpelt's explanation. She flinched slightly at the bluntness of the tom's initial delivery, very much prepared for any reaction from the injured tom. Methodically going through the motions to avoid making eye contact, she let Mudpelt finish, glad to hear him make an effort to soften the blow at the end. Doing what she could to steady her shaking paws, she inhaled in preparation before lifting her head and meeting Blazefang's fiery gaze.
"Mud...Mudpelt is right, B-Blazefang..." Tapping Mudpelt's shoulder with her tail in gratitude, she continued. "It will.. Only get worse with the c-cold, and the more you exert it, the m-more you unintentionally touch it to the ground when it pains you, the more damage y-you'll do. As it is n-now... You at least have s-some range of motion. If you c-continue on this path, you... You may do far more damage than you would expect. You might lose the ability to rise to your paws u-unaided." She held the poultice on her paw, waiting for a safe path to approach before she got any closer to the irritated tom. |
@zen Note: 43 moons old |
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Post by Deleted on May 23, 2017 22:56:03 GMT -5
They can't break me as long as I know who I am. They can't see me, but I'm still here.
They can't tell me who to be cause I'm not what they see.
Blazefang's hostile glare snapped to his brother as the mud brown tom took on the task of giving his brother the worst news he would ever possibly hear, next to yet another of his kin dying too early perhaps. His fur bristled, but he didn't start spitting just yet. Mudpelt said he shouldn't hunt anymore. Well, he wasn't all that fond of hunting anyway! He could still patrol. But Mudpelt wasn't finished, and then he did spit when the words he had feared for so long finally fell from his brother's mouth.
"Your warrior days are over, brother."
His tail lashed and despite his pain he attempted to push to his paws, but fell back only a moment later, his tail still lashing wildly, sending moss flinging about the den. Pain from his leg and fury both contorted his face. Mudpelt went on, trying to explain to him why, logically, this was for the best, that it had to happen, but Blazefang was tuning him out in denial, his ears pressed flat to his skull. And then Kindleflare had the audacity to agree with his harebrained brother!
Through the blood pounding in his ears, he barely heard the medicine cat's own explanation as to why his life was over. He did force himself to his paws then, wincing and hissing through the pain as he hobbled from the nest, turning his back on both of them. He didn't want to hear this. They were wrong. He'd been reckless, that was all. He knew it was in his nature. If he just tried to be a little more careful from now on, he'd be fine.
“Shut up! You're lying,” he spat as he hobbled toward the den entrance, half hopping to keep his bad leg off the ground, pelt burning because he knew how ridiculous and helpless he looked and it was humiliating. He wanted to storm out of here on four good legs, show them how wrong they were, but it felt more like he was only proving their point, and it only served to make him angrier. He stumbled and cursed and wanted nothing more than for some enemy cat to appear for him to completely shred as he fell heavily to his haunches, hunched over as if he could hide his humiliation along with the truth.
He closed his eyes tightly, his fur bristling, ears still pressed flat to his head, and finally whipped his head around to glare at them both, furious and desperate as he snarled, “If I can't be a warrior then what's the point!?”
Yeah, the world is still sleeping while I keep on dreaming for me,
And their words are just whispers and lies that I'll never believe.
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Post by Fawn on May 24, 2017 16:36:54 GMT -5
Mudpelt's ears were pinned back, as if the sound of his brother's anguish physically hurt him. A sense of loss struck him square in the chest as he watched Blazefang struggle to prove them both wrong; struggle to return to the warrior he'd once been.
For once, Mudpelt didn't know what to say. Always a rational mind against Blazefang's rebelliousness, always a voice of reason when his brother tried to do something harebrained. But this was different. Mudpelt moved close to his brother, seeing the awkwardness of his posture and feeling the searing heat of Blazefang's anger when there was only a mouse-length between them.
As always, Mudpelt lent him a shoulder to lean against.
"You can still serve the Clan, Blazefang," he said softly. "You can oversee battle training, and Firestar can allow you to guard the camp when necessary. You'll be an elder, but you won't be useless." And that is what his brother feared most of all.
Mudpelt vainly tried to see the silver lining in this situation, but he struggled instead, with the weight of the rain. The somber earth-brown warrior looked over his brother's shoulder to Kindleflare, hoping to communicate that they needed to support Blazefang in the coming moons. Show him that his family was still a strong presence in his life.
Maybe Blazefang could help Kindleflare gather herbs until she found her own apprentice? It wasn't much, but it was something, and right now Blazefang needed something to live for. MUDPELT lightningclan warrior. 31 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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