Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on Aug 31, 2019 11:32:01 GMT -5
The story's getting old but my heart is getting colder
Frosted cerulean pools watched with an unreadable expression as the large Medicine Cat of Treeclan worked on reapplying salve and cobwebs to the healing flank and leg of the massive tabby she-cat. Only the occasional twitch of an ear gave away an discomfort or pain the stripped warrior was feeling.
It had been days since the attack of Demon out within the forest of Treeclan's territory. Lionstar had lost a life, Yewfang had joined Starclan, even the Gathering had come and gone after days of rain pouring from the sky.
And the massive she-cat had been stuck in the Medicine Cat's den since she returned from the mostly one sided fight with the monstrous mountain lynx. Restlessness was building within the tabby's chest and her massive paws itched to move around and do something.
She was sure Falconstorm was aware of her irritation, Timberfrost would often make an off handed, chilly comment anytime a warrior would be fresh-kill before departing to go about their business. Despite her injury, the tabby didn't like just laying around, waiting for the deep gashes within her flesh to heal. Duties needed to be done, the borders needed to be protected.
She was a warrior of Treeclan after all.
This situation brought on a mesh of memories, as the massive tabby remembered visiting her sister, then Bramblepaw, who was healing from a fractured leg after the death of their father. It had delayed Bramblevine's jump in status, but in time she was healed and returned to training. Yet, her injury had been a lot less severe than Timberfrost's long healing problem.
Demon had scored deep marks within the flesh of Timberfrost, the longest on ran from her hip down her leg and even cut down to bone. Even with the gouges within her flank, the exposed bone was a danger for both infection and possibly the loss of her leg. So far though, healing seemed to be doing fine. Falconstorm had informed her yesterday that he could no longer see the white coloration of her skeletal structure, the muscle seemed to finally be healing back into place.
Cold blue pools watched as Falconstom finished up with her, softly pressing swarms of cobwebs over the still open wounds that no longer bled but still oozed. By the time she would be well enough to return to duties there would be no more sticky cobwebs left within the entire forest, or that's what it seemed with the amount used simply on her. Once finished, the large tom gave her a grunt, flicked his tail and informed her that he would be back after he went out to restock his used herbs, as well as to send a cat to give her breakfast.
Shifting her large body, the brown and black stripped tabby moved get more comfortable within the nest the currently occupied. Tucking her large paws under her chest, the only part of her extending out of the mossy nest was her injured leg while her tail rested comfortably against her belly and out of the way. Her eyes were closed as she rested for a moment, though movement outside the den caused an ear twitched and the familiar scent of her deputy caused those cerulean pools to blink open.
Pumafang seemed to jump between numb and reactive lately.
With Timberfrost in the medicine cat's den, the nights were a touch colder than usual, and he noticed the warrior's den felt a lot emptier without her next to him. It was a new feeling, that soft prick of loneliness, as he had never truly enjoyed the company of others. Though deputyship had made him dig his roots into the clan and establish good ground with those he once heavily avoided. Specifically, his interactions with Timberfrost opened his heart. How inauthentic. He thought as he organized morning patrols. The camp started to bustle. Some cats moved around with morning intensity, and other stood still or sauntered sluggishly.
Forever numbed by his lacking, Pumafang sent off his warriors and apprentices to complete their designated duties.
His heart wasn't opened at all, and those who had thought it? They had been horribly fooled by his ruse, and without recognition too. Pumafang put on a good guise of normalcy, noticing the comfort it supplied his clanmates to see a personality leading them and not an iron paw, though his emotions were strangled and dead from his acidic thoughts and mind. His heart was a void, consuming everything around it without compassion. The little stars, the small glimpses of light near and far stood no chance, and when he finally found someone strong enough to withstand him, she simply existed in his life as a power.
She existed, and that was far more recognition than he had given any other cat besides those of authority, though authority was always temporary. Timberfrost seemed here to stay. She was worth his time, his connection. Pumafang felt vested, and only death would erase it.
The thought of death didn't seem to occur to him. Hearing about Timberfrost's injuries and eventually seeing them did make his soul stir slightly, but with pride. Only Timberfrost could take on Demon and survive with a scratch. Perhaps he had subconsciously belittled her injuries for his own comfort.
Pumafang found himself lumbering slowly towards the medicine cat's branch with a squirrel in his jaws, offering a quick nod to Falconstorm in passing. When he reached the entrance, there was no hesitation. Pumafang poked his head through, amber eyes searching out Timberfrost in the dark. He saw her sprawled out in a fresh nest. It looks like Falconstorm or one of the apprentices already switched out her bedding. He noticed approvingly.
Pumafang walked carefully over and set the fresh kill down beside Timberfrost before laying down, facing her, greeting her with dull, amber eyes. The last thing she would want to talk about is her injuries and what caused them. He was running out of interesting things day to day, and this morning was no different from the last. So, after a few moments of silence, he offered her insight on his speculations instead: something to listen to while she ate.
"I suspect Lionstar will order an attack on NightClan before Leafbare." Pumafang rumbled slowly, shifting lazily on his side, tail flicking slightly. "It seems to be the most rewarding option at the moment. Darkstar has proven to her clan that they can take what they want from us, and unless we defy them, they'll continue to do so." He paused. "Brackenstride is also someone of interest. It is implied that his safety is at risk with NightClan's most recent thievery and trespassing. It is evident they still feel strongly about Blackwolf's death, from the battle they had no less instigated. I would be curious to see what your opinions are, in regards to a confrontation."
It was heavier than what they normally spoke about. He didn't know how she would react exactly, though he wasn't interested in hiding his dilemmas, speculations, and thoughts from her. She would clearly tell him her opinions, that he knew, and it was one of the things he never took for granted. Pumafang craved simplicity and honesty in communication and interaction, something so rare and hard to find in a cat.
Post by Ghost the Undead Goddess on Nov 15, 2019 6:30:28 GMT -5
The story's getting old but my heart is getting colder
The massive tabby was always pleased when the colossal tomcat made his presence known, joining her within the Medicine Cat's den despite how busy he probably was as deputy to Treeclan. Yet, she somehow always managed to be a priority when it came to the stone cold warrior, with an eerie similar heart.
He was... precious to her, in a way. Something she never thought she'd say about anther cat, let alone her father's last apprentice. She knew a little of what shaped Pumafang's apprentice-hood, what morphed him into the stoic, empty cat he was today. Or what he claimed to be anyways, the massive tabby was slowly coming to believe there was more to him.
More that he didn't want to feel, or that he freely pushed beneath a cold, rough exterior to protect him. As she had done with that wall of ice around her heart.
It was odd, how much she craved that feeling. She wasn't sure what it was, or what it meant, but she knew that during her time within Falconstorm's den she missed the warmth that came from Pumafang when their fur brushed against one another while they slept. She missed the walks or patrols the two of them took, whether they conversed or stayed silent it was his companionship that she enjoyed.
Her tail flickered ever so slightly as she dipped her head in thanks before taking a bite out of the red furred rodent he had brought her. Timberfrost flickered an ear, signaling she was listening as he spoke to her. War was the first topic of conversation, something she was well aware that would be happening within the valley fairly soon. The tension between Treeclan and Nightclan was boiling, bubbling over and nothing would stop the wave of fire from razing the forest, from shaking it too it's very roots. She hoped her injury was healed by the time Lionstar gave the order, her frosty temperment would not be pleased if she happened to be sidelined.
Brackenstride was the next topic of conversation, one that brought the tabby's large head swinging to face Pumafang. Cerulean pools narrowed ever so slightly, holding that vague golden gaze of her mate as she listened to him. The young lion was a cat that Timberfrost rather liked, respected even for his more darker sense of nature he tried to keep hidden, it set him apart from his father. However, the young golden tom still followed his heart rather than just pure instinct and effort, and in a sense it still made him soft.
"War is inevitable." She had told him the same thing before. It was simple, realistic and unavoidable. Especially between two clans that would forever hate each other, no matter what pushed them over the edge this time, next time or even after that. Brackenstride's murder of Blackwolf just happened to be the turning point to the beginning of this one, who know what could cause it moons in the future. "We would be just as battle hungry if the roles had been reversed, should Blackwolf had killed Brackenstride."
Her tone was cold, as always, sharp and to the point. She didn't waste time with small talk and she didn't beat around the bush when it came to getting her point across. Pumafang and she were very similar in this aspect, their conversations may seem boring to those on the outside, but they served to stimulate each other in conversation. To apply brain power and realistic thinking to problems and potential solutions. It was something that would continue even after he took the mantel of leadership after Lionstar's passing, and her duty as his mate would be to challenge his way of thinking when it came to the clan and those under his protection.
Tilting her head slightly, Timberfrost mulled over a possible response to the rest of his words. Her opinion on the matter was something he wanted, something he desired from her. It had been obvious within the last few moons of their growing relationship that he turned to her when he needed help, or when he couldn't grasp the emotions of events that he didn't possess, the was she did even though she hid them away. He would always be one of the few who saw past that wall of ice around her heart.
"As long as Darkstar lives Brackenstride's life will be in danger, unfortunately that's the way Nightclan's leader lives to serve." Timberfrost said after a minute, still holding her mate's gaze as she spoke in that chilly tone. "It doesn't matter what happens or how soft he may be, it's our job to protect him and the rest of our clanmates once war finally breaks out." He was the deputy, but she was a soldier; a warrior who put her body forward as a shield to keep the others safe from harms way. She'd proven that with her fight with Demon, she'd do it again when it came to the thieving, cruel rogues of Nightclan.
"And don't worry about me." There was a faint smirk that rose to Timberfrost's face, slight sarcastic light entering her gaze of blue before vanishing behind the wall of ice again. "By the time Lionstar gives the order, i'll be ready to fight by your side." It was true, what she said as she reached out to lay her massive paw against his. It was a rare show of emotion, a rare touch of affection that only the massive black cat would see from his tabby striped mate.