Tending to ones past wounds (OPEN) Oct 2, 2020 23:50:10 GMT -5
Post by LadyInu on Oct 2, 2020 23:50:10 GMT -5
Weather - Day 10. A wicked autumn wind chills the bones of every elder in the valley, where even the sunshine feels lukewarm and dull.
Sunrise was just barely raising above the horizon, with most cats of StoneClan still curled up and sound asleep in their nests. Lost in the endless slumber and dreams that StarClan so generously provided for them, completely unaware of what path the day's activities would lead them down. One cat, however, was not lost in the peacefulness that sleep should have been given him. Instead the mostly brown tom, known as Coppertalon, was wide awake. Curled in his nest, with paws outstretched against the comfortable lining of his bedding, one would have believed that he was just waking up and just blinking the sleep out of his eyes. That was far from the truth; in fact if you looked at his face, you could easily tell that this wasn't the case at all. The truth of the matter was that he had been up for several hours now. Having been jarred from his sleep by the sudden pain in his left shoulder. While the injury in itself had been one of the many that had received from the battle with the eagles, that had happened several moons before. Those had been small cuts and bruises and they had healed with no dwindling issues to be felt.
In fact during the time after the eagle's demise, he had been too proud to even bother to go to the medicine cat's den. To him, it was a weakness to be seen as weak. To venture into the type of dependence, where you would have to crawl to another on your belly and beg them to help you. No, Coppertalon was many things; prideful, not trusting, ambitious to name three things off the bat. But he was certainly not weak. His former mentor, Leapingstorm, the beautiful but clearly deranged she-cat, had made sure of that. She had pummeled him, degraded him and had poisoned his mind. Even seasons later after her demise, by his own claws, her sweet and honey laced words were whispering venom in his ears, even now. He could almost smell her sweet scent, encircling him and her body pressing itself against him. Laughing at him and mocking him for even considering what his mind was telling him to do.
Go to Ebonyheart now!
A low hiss of air fell from the back of his throat but he was quick to stop the noise from becoming louder than it already had, when his eyes took notice of a few of his den mates, shifting in their sleep. Those large amber eyes of his, narrowed on a few particular forms of the cats that lay nearby, before the elderly warrior pushed himself to his feet slowly. He shifted his attention towards the warrior den's opening, noticing the soft caress of the outline of light from where he stood. His eyes were back on his sleeping clanmates, and he snorted in response. Tch, apparently, he was the only one he could tell time. With that thought stuck in mind, the elderly tom shifted carefully forward. With careful grace and precision that could only be seen with cats of age and practice, he crossed the distance from his nest and to the opening of the den. Managing to avoid any paws and tails in his wake. With that huddle done, the tom shifted forward once again on his steady paws and walked outside.
His body seemingly froze upon exiting as a cold wind came by and swept over his form. The thin hairs of his pelt were quick to respond and the ache from his shoulder only seemed to react following suit. Another hiss fell from his maw. Yet as he stood there, basking in warmth of the sun and the chill of that unforgiving wind, more pain seemed to come out of nowhere. As if it were feeding off every fiber of his entire body. He knew he was an elder but this was ridiculous! He was a warrior and warriors weren't supposed to feel this bad! Letting out a loud growl, at this, he turned and looked towards the medicine cat den. He was already walking towards it, before his brain could even take note of his body's movements. He crossed the distance with a few several steps, and yet he lingered outside for many minutes. His pride and a long forgotten mentor's harsh words preventing him from going any further...Coppertalon Talking
Tag: Open to all | WC: 811 | Notes: Just Coppertalon visiting the medicine cat den after a few weeks after the eagle's battle. Most of his wounds have healed but the wound he got on his left shoulder hasn't completely, not to mention he's an old bean whose too prideful to ask for help...until now.