Post by skyy and her socks on Jul 22, 2016 4:53:33 GMT
It felt like Greenleaf. Even as the sun sunk down toward the horizon, the heat stuck to Beetleberry’s thick black fur, clinging to his skin like a burr that couldn’t be shaken. It weighed him down, each pawstep heavy, his mind latched onto the coming night. He longed for it, the cool night air. However, it was not to be. No doubt by the night’s arrival they’d be making their way back into camp, herbs in mouth.
The day didn’t seem to have as much of an effect on Flurrypaw as she raced ahead, sniffing at every little plant that cropped up around them; between the rocks and at the roots as they approached the far side of the territory. The trees at the edge of the sole twolegplace loomed in the distance. However, it was prime herb territory, no matter how tiring he found the journey.
Compared to his pale-pelted apprentice, Beetleberry’s movements were slow, careful. He watched every step, every movement, his mouth parted to take in the air around them. For all his tendencies, he was at very least careful about where he led his apprentice. The moors were not always the safest place, especially with all the talk of rogues that went on. Oh, he wouldn’t turn away a chance to talk to the creature, to be rational where their immature leader wasn’t, but he certainly didn’t intend to seek them out, either. Not when Flurrypaw was involved.
“Is this it?” Beetleberry’s ears pricked as he swivelled his head toward the apprentice, who stood over a small plant of long, thin stalks and tiny leaves. Thyme. He has to say, for all her clumsiness and excitability, she was going to be a useful medicine cat. The purr that broke from his throat as he made his way over was sincere in that, his bright green eyes warm. “That’s the one, well done Flurrypaw! You’re learning quickly!” In many ways, being out there with Flurrypaw alone had relaxed him, his façade thin. She wasn’t a threat, after all. They spent too much time together, and he no doubt would have noticed before that point.
The black medicine cat stepped to the she-cat’s side, resting his tail across her shoulders as he leaned down to snap off a few of the stalks carefully. “Do you think I’ll ever be able to learn it all?” There was a certain wonder in Flurrypaw’s voice, and he couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle, straightening. “Oh, I’m sure you will! You’re a smart cat, much smarter than your typical apprentice.” Each word was the truth, a rarity for the medicine cat. But, perhaps it was time to start being exactly that, especially if he was going to coach the she-cat into his footsteps.
Beetleberry stepped back, reaching down to pick up the stalks, and step away, his gaze scanning the moors around them. “I don’t know about that… But! Um! Thank you Beetleberry!” The black tom placed the thyme back at his paws, turning his head toward the she-cat. “I’m serious!” There was a small laugh in the medicine cat’s voice, and for a moment, he just looked toward the small she-cat, as she ducked her head. The medicine cat twitched his whiskers, and sat down. “Medicine cats are something different to warriors, Flurrypaw.”
Was this the right time? Beetleberry let his gaze drift out across the moors once more, tracing the slopes and rocks that cropped out over the horizon, the sway of the short grass that danced with the breeze. Birds fluttered overhead urgently, seeming in a rush. He supposed there wasn’t a wrong time. Not when the apprentice looked at him with a completely focused look, head tilted. She would listen to anything he said. He knew that well and good. Beetleberry straightened, and offered the she-cat a small smile. “It takes a special cat, a smart cat. It’s not something a typical warrior or warrior apprentice can do.”
Flurrypaw shuffled her paws and Beetleberry climbed to his own, picking up the thyme and carrying it over to the rocks it had come from, sitting it on the smooth surface carefully. “Being a medicine cat in holding everyone’s lives in your paws, after all.” More so than some realised. The smile on his face turned into more of a grimace at the thought of those who struggled against their power, their knowledge. Mousebrains like their deputy. “Fates lie in our paws.” Beetleberry stepp back, and scanning the rocks, as Flurrypaw turned to face him again.
“Leaders would be the same, wouldn’t they? Making all the decisions they do.” She was still so young, and Beetleberry chuckled again, stepping to the side with a glance back toward the apprentice. “Not necessarily…” A few leaves poking just around the side of the rocks had his attention. Burnet, wonderful. They needed that too. The medicine cat stepped forward. “Leaders just… tell cats what to do. Any warrior can do that.” That was too direct. The medicine cat lashed his tail, glancing back, before turning his attention forward as he stepped around the rocks.
“Don’t get me wrong, they’re good cats, but… they’re warriors. They can hunt and fight, but… when it comes to the crunch, where is their connection with StarClan?” Beetleberry leaned forward to sniff at the leaves. Definitely Burnet. “Where is their ability to heal when their warriors need it?” Reaching forward, he bit a few of the long branches free, letting them fall to the ground. “That’s where medicine cats stand out. We can help, we can heal. We can read situations and command the situation in order to bring everyone to the best outcome.” A small smirk twisted ever so briefly into the medicine cat’s face as he reached down.
“I don’t know if warriors can really do that in the end.” He picked up the branches, and moved back around the rocks, to where Flurrypaw sat, looking at her paws, face focused. “I understand, Beetleberry.” Good, she was processing it. She could think on it, see the reality of his words. That was the first step. The medicine cat reached up to place the burnet next to the thyme. It couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome. Beetleberry turned, the smile back on his face. However, perhaps his façade faltered, and something darker glinted in his gaze, and the slight bare of his teeth.
“Together. You and I, Flurrypaw. We’ll look after WindClan and guide them.” The medicine cat stepped away from the rocks, looking off toward the camp. “After all, I fear for what Swiftfoot could do to us in the future. She needs to be taken care of, for the better of the clan.” Maybe that was a step too far. But, that didn’t matter. For a few long moments, he stood there, watching a few clouds make their way over the slowly darkening sky. However, when no response came, that was when he looked back. “… Flurrypaw?”
The apprentice stood still, her nose to the air. “What’s that smell?” Smell? Beetleberry parted his jaws, tasting the air as his apprentice did, and slowly, his muscles tensed. “Fox.” The name was sharp, strained. Of course, of course those blooming creatures weren’t completely gone yet. The scent was strong on the breeze, and enough to make the medicine cat snort out a breath. Okay, they needed to get going before the creature arrived. “That’s fox. Come on, let’s go.” He moved back toward the rocks. Just before he grabbed the herbs though, he glanced back, to find Flurrypaw still standing there, a puzzled look on her face.
“Flurrypaw, come now.” He reached forward for the herbs again.
“Wait, Beetleberry, what do you mean Swiftfoot needs to ‘be taken care of’?” Beetleberry paused once more.
“Just that she needs to be cared for and assisted, that’s all. Come on.” He grabbed the herbs, and stepped back, glancing around before stepped in the direction of the camp. Flurrypaw remained still.
“But… if you’re scared of what she might do…” StarClan, what… He dropped the herbs, jutting his head and giving her a stern look. “Flurrypaw, that’s enough, we can discuss this more back home.”
“Beetleberry… You’re not going to do something to Swiftfoot, are you?”
Beetleberry stared at the apprentice for a long moment. Now, that was not the conclusion he’d expected her to come too. Sure, that was what he’d been intending by the words, but, he doubted Flurrypaw would see that deeply into them, or at least, that she’d question it. She made it sound like it was wrong or something ridiculous. She sounded like a warrior, talking like that. “I do what the clan needs me to do. Now, come on!” He grabbed the herbs again. “Beetleberry!” The words were loud, indignant, and it seemed a little horrified.
The medicine cat flattened his ears against his head, giving her a sharp look and jutting his head. “No’ ‘o ‘oud!’ he hissed through the herbs. “You’re joking, aren’t you? Please say you’re joking…” He could taste the fox’s scent without his jaws now. It whiffed past his nose, tangling with the burnet and thyme in his jaws. They needed to move. Yet, Flurrypaw stood there, taking more of a solid stand, staring at him with her jaws open. StarClan, what was she doing. He dropped the herbs. “Flurrypaw! That’s enough! Move!”
“I won’t let you hurt her!” The apprentice stood, head held high, and Beetleberry could only stare. There was a look in her eye that he hadn’t seen before, something more determined, focused. A look that wouldn’t have a place in his line of medicine cats. It showed weakness, and urge to protect regardless of what they did, of the scorn that was thrown around. And for a moment, Beetleberry couldn’t move. He’d been wrong. She wasn’t just going to follow his path. Somewhere in that airhead was a cat he’d not seen yet.
“Flurrypaw.” The names came out more of a growl, a threat. “Move!” He didn’t have time to do much more than that, before a large shape emerged, growling, with russet fur sticking out, and jaws parted in a snarl. It came from behind the apprentice, a threat that a cat could not just ignore. His courage faltered. He may have been able to stand against a cat, but, a fox was a different story. And yet, he didn’t move for her as the creature lunged for the apprentice, he turned, and moved away, ignoring the noise of the scuffle. He’d have to go back for her, of course. His scent layered the area. But, right there and then, as his heart thundered against his chest, the scent of fox and blood rushing through his nose, well, his anger at being defied started to seep through.
How dare she turn on him, after everything he’d taught her, after taking her under his wing. His jaws clenched tight as he moved away toward the trees of twolegplace, away from the inner clan territory. He’d be less likely to be picked up moving around the border. Yet… despite everything, despite the anger, the frustration, he was hurt. How had he read her so wrong? He’d liked the she-cat. At least, once he got used to her. But, well. He couldn’t exactly turn on the decision now.
It was a while that he spent near the trees, before the russet shape of the fox reappeared, heading along the WindClan border. It was that sign he took to move in, and pick his way across the grass, and back to the sight that lay there. The fox didn’t seem to have played for too long, and from what he could see, and maybe that was for the best, it seemed to have ended the apprentice’s life quickly. Beetleberry just stared for a long moment at the blood and the limp body, lying not far from the abandoned herbs. He almost considered collecting them together to take back as well, before the façade’s importance returned to the front of his mind. Of course, he’d have to act like this was an accident he’d left her alone for.
Carefully, Beetleberry took a breath, and reached down to carefully grab the apprentice’s torn scruff. There wasn’t an inch of movement to her. No doubt she’d join the idiots in StarClan and tell them all about his plans. Pah. Then again… His mind drifted back to the odd dream of the medicine cat meeting. Of the fading snow and the fruitless moors. Had this been what they were predicting? Her death? He supposed they were mocking him again, commenting that without Flurrypaw, the moors would die. Yeah, that was starting to make sense. The medicine cat rolled his eyes, as he stepped away from the scent, carrying the apprentice in his jaws. No matter. Affections or not, what was done was done. He’d made his choice, and once again, proved his point. He’d had the chance to save her, but made the choice not to. He chose death, just like she did for not listening to him.
Each pawstep across the moors, he spent rehearsing his words, preparing himself for the question, and preparing his act. He forced grief and panic into his eyes, into the jitter of his movements. The apprentice reeked of fox, and showed only the signs of the large, heavy claws and teeth of a fox, not of a cat. He was not to blame there. They would see that, and he would walk away. Of course, the act would need to stay for a while, but, he’d manage. Maybe he would mourn her, after all. His first apprentice. The gorse of the camp came into view, and he painted on the mask of distraught with sharp tail movements, as he charged toward the entrance as soon as he came into sight of the guards on outlook rock. There was a sob to his breathing, as he forced water into his eyes.
Beetleberry hit the tunnel hard, skidding inside, paws stumbling as he tripped his way into the center of the camp, letting go of the apprentice’s body as he did so. With all the evidence of a cat torn up inside, he collapsed next to Flurrypaw’s form, and let out a wail. Leaning forward, he resting his nose against the she-cat’s pelt, as the sound of the clan approaching roared into life around him. Yet, he traced every pawstep carefully, waiting for anyone to approach and address him. He knew this game. Above them, the setting sun sent the sky a dark, vivid shade of red, as the sun continued on it’s slope down toward the far horizon.Now, it was just a waiting act.
TAGGED: tikker ♪ ♫ with redstar, alee with swiftfoot, aurum with blackwolf, ame with mallowpaw, and all windclan
WORDS: 2462
NOTES: flurrypaw's death thread. this is a mourning thread for her, so everyone is expected to be part of things. tikk, it's up to you if when he announces it was a fox, if you want to organise and play out a patrol seeking out the creature or not.
The day didn’t seem to have as much of an effect on Flurrypaw as she raced ahead, sniffing at every little plant that cropped up around them; between the rocks and at the roots as they approached the far side of the territory. The trees at the edge of the sole twolegplace loomed in the distance. However, it was prime herb territory, no matter how tiring he found the journey.
Compared to his pale-pelted apprentice, Beetleberry’s movements were slow, careful. He watched every step, every movement, his mouth parted to take in the air around them. For all his tendencies, he was at very least careful about where he led his apprentice. The moors were not always the safest place, especially with all the talk of rogues that went on. Oh, he wouldn’t turn away a chance to talk to the creature, to be rational where their immature leader wasn’t, but he certainly didn’t intend to seek them out, either. Not when Flurrypaw was involved.
“Is this it?” Beetleberry’s ears pricked as he swivelled his head toward the apprentice, who stood over a small plant of long, thin stalks and tiny leaves. Thyme. He has to say, for all her clumsiness and excitability, she was going to be a useful medicine cat. The purr that broke from his throat as he made his way over was sincere in that, his bright green eyes warm. “That’s the one, well done Flurrypaw! You’re learning quickly!” In many ways, being out there with Flurrypaw alone had relaxed him, his façade thin. She wasn’t a threat, after all. They spent too much time together, and he no doubt would have noticed before that point.
The black medicine cat stepped to the she-cat’s side, resting his tail across her shoulders as he leaned down to snap off a few of the stalks carefully. “Do you think I’ll ever be able to learn it all?” There was a certain wonder in Flurrypaw’s voice, and he couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle, straightening. “Oh, I’m sure you will! You’re a smart cat, much smarter than your typical apprentice.” Each word was the truth, a rarity for the medicine cat. But, perhaps it was time to start being exactly that, especially if he was going to coach the she-cat into his footsteps.
Beetleberry stepped back, reaching down to pick up the stalks, and step away, his gaze scanning the moors around them. “I don’t know about that… But! Um! Thank you Beetleberry!” The black tom placed the thyme back at his paws, turning his head toward the she-cat. “I’m serious!” There was a small laugh in the medicine cat’s voice, and for a moment, he just looked toward the small she-cat, as she ducked her head. The medicine cat twitched his whiskers, and sat down. “Medicine cats are something different to warriors, Flurrypaw.”
Was this the right time? Beetleberry let his gaze drift out across the moors once more, tracing the slopes and rocks that cropped out over the horizon, the sway of the short grass that danced with the breeze. Birds fluttered overhead urgently, seeming in a rush. He supposed there wasn’t a wrong time. Not when the apprentice looked at him with a completely focused look, head tilted. She would listen to anything he said. He knew that well and good. Beetleberry straightened, and offered the she-cat a small smile. “It takes a special cat, a smart cat. It’s not something a typical warrior or warrior apprentice can do.”
Flurrypaw shuffled her paws and Beetleberry climbed to his own, picking up the thyme and carrying it over to the rocks it had come from, sitting it on the smooth surface carefully. “Being a medicine cat in holding everyone’s lives in your paws, after all.” More so than some realised. The smile on his face turned into more of a grimace at the thought of those who struggled against their power, their knowledge. Mousebrains like their deputy. “Fates lie in our paws.” Beetleberry stepp back, and scanning the rocks, as Flurrypaw turned to face him again.
“Leaders would be the same, wouldn’t they? Making all the decisions they do.” She was still so young, and Beetleberry chuckled again, stepping to the side with a glance back toward the apprentice. “Not necessarily…” A few leaves poking just around the side of the rocks had his attention. Burnet, wonderful. They needed that too. The medicine cat stepped forward. “Leaders just… tell cats what to do. Any warrior can do that.” That was too direct. The medicine cat lashed his tail, glancing back, before turning his attention forward as he stepped around the rocks.
“Don’t get me wrong, they’re good cats, but… they’re warriors. They can hunt and fight, but… when it comes to the crunch, where is their connection with StarClan?” Beetleberry leaned forward to sniff at the leaves. Definitely Burnet. “Where is their ability to heal when their warriors need it?” Reaching forward, he bit a few of the long branches free, letting them fall to the ground. “That’s where medicine cats stand out. We can help, we can heal. We can read situations and command the situation in order to bring everyone to the best outcome.” A small smirk twisted ever so briefly into the medicine cat’s face as he reached down.
“I don’t know if warriors can really do that in the end.” He picked up the branches, and moved back around the rocks, to where Flurrypaw sat, looking at her paws, face focused. “I understand, Beetleberry.” Good, she was processing it. She could think on it, see the reality of his words. That was the first step. The medicine cat reached up to place the burnet next to the thyme. It couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome. Beetleberry turned, the smile back on his face. However, perhaps his façade faltered, and something darker glinted in his gaze, and the slight bare of his teeth.
“Together. You and I, Flurrypaw. We’ll look after WindClan and guide them.” The medicine cat stepped away from the rocks, looking off toward the camp. “After all, I fear for what Swiftfoot could do to us in the future. She needs to be taken care of, for the better of the clan.” Maybe that was a step too far. But, that didn’t matter. For a few long moments, he stood there, watching a few clouds make their way over the slowly darkening sky. However, when no response came, that was when he looked back. “… Flurrypaw?”
The apprentice stood still, her nose to the air. “What’s that smell?” Smell? Beetleberry parted his jaws, tasting the air as his apprentice did, and slowly, his muscles tensed. “Fox.” The name was sharp, strained. Of course, of course those blooming creatures weren’t completely gone yet. The scent was strong on the breeze, and enough to make the medicine cat snort out a breath. Okay, they needed to get going before the creature arrived. “That’s fox. Come on, let’s go.” He moved back toward the rocks. Just before he grabbed the herbs though, he glanced back, to find Flurrypaw still standing there, a puzzled look on her face.
“Flurrypaw, come now.” He reached forward for the herbs again.
“Wait, Beetleberry, what do you mean Swiftfoot needs to ‘be taken care of’?” Beetleberry paused once more.
“Just that she needs to be cared for and assisted, that’s all. Come on.” He grabbed the herbs, and stepped back, glancing around before stepped in the direction of the camp. Flurrypaw remained still.
“But… if you’re scared of what she might do…” StarClan, what… He dropped the herbs, jutting his head and giving her a stern look. “Flurrypaw, that’s enough, we can discuss this more back home.”
“Beetleberry… You’re not going to do something to Swiftfoot, are you?”
Beetleberry stared at the apprentice for a long moment. Now, that was not the conclusion he’d expected her to come too. Sure, that was what he’d been intending by the words, but, he doubted Flurrypaw would see that deeply into them, or at least, that she’d question it. She made it sound like it was wrong or something ridiculous. She sounded like a warrior, talking like that. “I do what the clan needs me to do. Now, come on!” He grabbed the herbs again. “Beetleberry!” The words were loud, indignant, and it seemed a little horrified.
The medicine cat flattened his ears against his head, giving her a sharp look and jutting his head. “No’ ‘o ‘oud!’ he hissed through the herbs. “You’re joking, aren’t you? Please say you’re joking…” He could taste the fox’s scent without his jaws now. It whiffed past his nose, tangling with the burnet and thyme in his jaws. They needed to move. Yet, Flurrypaw stood there, taking more of a solid stand, staring at him with her jaws open. StarClan, what was she doing. He dropped the herbs. “Flurrypaw! That’s enough! Move!”
“I won’t let you hurt her!” The apprentice stood, head held high, and Beetleberry could only stare. There was a look in her eye that he hadn’t seen before, something more determined, focused. A look that wouldn’t have a place in his line of medicine cats. It showed weakness, and urge to protect regardless of what they did, of the scorn that was thrown around. And for a moment, Beetleberry couldn’t move. He’d been wrong. She wasn’t just going to follow his path. Somewhere in that airhead was a cat he’d not seen yet.
“Flurrypaw.” The names came out more of a growl, a threat. “Move!” He didn’t have time to do much more than that, before a large shape emerged, growling, with russet fur sticking out, and jaws parted in a snarl. It came from behind the apprentice, a threat that a cat could not just ignore. His courage faltered. He may have been able to stand against a cat, but, a fox was a different story. And yet, he didn’t move for her as the creature lunged for the apprentice, he turned, and moved away, ignoring the noise of the scuffle. He’d have to go back for her, of course. His scent layered the area. But, right there and then, as his heart thundered against his chest, the scent of fox and blood rushing through his nose, well, his anger at being defied started to seep through.
How dare she turn on him, after everything he’d taught her, after taking her under his wing. His jaws clenched tight as he moved away toward the trees of twolegplace, away from the inner clan territory. He’d be less likely to be picked up moving around the border. Yet… despite everything, despite the anger, the frustration, he was hurt. How had he read her so wrong? He’d liked the she-cat. At least, once he got used to her. But, well. He couldn’t exactly turn on the decision now.
It was a while that he spent near the trees, before the russet shape of the fox reappeared, heading along the WindClan border. It was that sign he took to move in, and pick his way across the grass, and back to the sight that lay there. The fox didn’t seem to have played for too long, and from what he could see, and maybe that was for the best, it seemed to have ended the apprentice’s life quickly. Beetleberry just stared for a long moment at the blood and the limp body, lying not far from the abandoned herbs. He almost considered collecting them together to take back as well, before the façade’s importance returned to the front of his mind. Of course, he’d have to act like this was an accident he’d left her alone for.
Carefully, Beetleberry took a breath, and reached down to carefully grab the apprentice’s torn scruff. There wasn’t an inch of movement to her. No doubt she’d join the idiots in StarClan and tell them all about his plans. Pah. Then again… His mind drifted back to the odd dream of the medicine cat meeting. Of the fading snow and the fruitless moors. Had this been what they were predicting? Her death? He supposed they were mocking him again, commenting that without Flurrypaw, the moors would die. Yeah, that was starting to make sense. The medicine cat rolled his eyes, as he stepped away from the scent, carrying the apprentice in his jaws. No matter. Affections or not, what was done was done. He’d made his choice, and once again, proved his point. He’d had the chance to save her, but made the choice not to. He chose death, just like she did for not listening to him.
Each pawstep across the moors, he spent rehearsing his words, preparing himself for the question, and preparing his act. He forced grief and panic into his eyes, into the jitter of his movements. The apprentice reeked of fox, and showed only the signs of the large, heavy claws and teeth of a fox, not of a cat. He was not to blame there. They would see that, and he would walk away. Of course, the act would need to stay for a while, but, he’d manage. Maybe he would mourn her, after all. His first apprentice. The gorse of the camp came into view, and he painted on the mask of distraught with sharp tail movements, as he charged toward the entrance as soon as he came into sight of the guards on outlook rock. There was a sob to his breathing, as he forced water into his eyes.
Beetleberry hit the tunnel hard, skidding inside, paws stumbling as he tripped his way into the center of the camp, letting go of the apprentice’s body as he did so. With all the evidence of a cat torn up inside, he collapsed next to Flurrypaw’s form, and let out a wail. Leaning forward, he resting his nose against the she-cat’s pelt, as the sound of the clan approaching roared into life around him. Yet, he traced every pawstep carefully, waiting for anyone to approach and address him. He knew this game. Above them, the setting sun sent the sky a dark, vivid shade of red, as the sun continued on it’s slope down toward the far horizon.Now, it was just a waiting act.
TAGGED: tikker ♪ ♫ with redstar, alee with swiftfoot, aurum with blackwolf, ame with mallowpaw, and all windclan
WORDS: 2462
NOTES: flurrypaw's death thread. this is a mourning thread for her, so everyone is expected to be part of things. tikk, it's up to you if when he announces it was a fox, if you want to organise and play out a patrol seeking out the creature or not.
