brand new {Pike & Swan}

Forums RiverClam RiverClan Camp brand new {Pike & Swan}

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  • #6915
    turnip
    Participant

    From Greenleaf, where usually there ought to be harsh sun, came somber days of rain. A mist fell over the air as the showers lightened. Dreary grey clouds rolling over the sky. The forest was alive with frog songs and drip-drop acoustics from leaves overhead, a low mournful tune.

    Riverclan’s leader, a most cunning she-cat, had lost her son on the battlefield. Pikebite had been claws deep in an enemy’s flank when the cry rang out, the order to return to camp. Just like that, it was over. Yowls and growls dulled to low murmurs. Pikebite aided her worn clan-mates back to their home, lending her broad shoulder for the wounded to lean on. She did not know Pantherstorm personally or much at all in fact, but the anguish their leader felt was all too familiar. The battle had come to an end but every fight had its price.

    Pikebite stood, rain rolling off her spotted tabby pelt. She had washed her paws clean of the blood, though looked down thoughtfully at her claws. How soon until the war cry rings out again? She plucked a bit of prey from the fresh-kill pile, gripping the fish in her jaws and carrying it with her towards the medicine den. Perhaps there’s someone who could use a meal, maybe someone to talk to about what happened yesterday. Or better yet – a distraction from all the goings on.

    #6917
    Pheebs
    Participant

    Swanpath was trying not to be bitter, she really was, but she couldn’t stop the wave of regret mingled with frustration that lingered just beneath the skin. That Windclanner, Tinyflame, had apparently robbed her of her vision, thankfully only in one eye, and now she had to take frequent visits to Rainysky because her eye was swollen and irritated. ‘Infected, I’ll bet.’ The thought made Swan all the more angry, but as usual she refrained from radiating all the rage she felt and instead sat perfectly still near the entrance. Pikebite’s approaching scent mingled with that of fish drew the molly’s attention, gold-green eyes finding Pikebite’s.

    “Bringing food to the sick and injured?” Swanpath inquired with the hints of a smile on her lips. “How kind, mind sitting with me?” Truthfully, Swan needed the distraction company could offer. She was going sick with worry for Sleekfeather, the battle had brought about a change in him that only she, his mother, could’ve noticed. It was the most subtle shifting in character but already it made her wary, more nervous, and more concerned for him. Yes, a distraction was definitely desirable at that moment.

    “And how are you after that mess?” Swanpath asked after the spotted warrior had settled herself nearby. “You’re clearly still lovely so I assume you fought well during the battle.” Swan herself was otherwise unharmed if you excuse the eye, small scratches here and there littered her body but nothing that would scar. 

    #7035
    turnip
    Participant

    Her long strides nearly ended in a surprised stumble, the spotted tabby subtly catching herself. She was not expecting the very first face she encountered would be of someone so… beautiful. From the eyes like Greenleaf mornings, to the soft white fur flowing down her strong figure, this cat was truly a pleasant surprise. By stars, even her voice was honey on Pikebite’s ears! This was none other than Swanpath, a clan-mate noticed time and again though never had the pleasure of chatting with before – until now.

    Pikebite realized she was staring, maybe a little too late, and Swanpath was waiting on a response of any kind. To avoid having the other molly think her personality was no better than the dead fish between her teeth, the tabby bent down to drop the prey at her paws. Clearing her throat first and foremost, “Not a problem,” she replied, tongue swiping over the remnants on her maw.

    “Lovely?” she echoed with an amused smile. She didn’t doubt the compliment or Swanpath’s judgment, but “lovely” was perhaps a better fit for the cat in front of her… “Handled my own but those Windclan apprentices did a number on my back.” Under her fawn pelt were dozens of small scars, all from the smaller field-dwelling cats hooking their little claws in her back and shoulders. Just an annoying attempt to ward her away from their clan-mates, she was certain. “You are surely a sight for sore eyes,” Pikebite said with a tilted head, amber gaze falling on Swanpath’s scarred face, “I bet you put up a fire of a fight for whoever tried to mess with your pretty face.”

    #7057
    Pheebs
    Participant

    Swanpath’s lips curled in a lazy smile, quietly enjoying  the other’s clear admiration of her. Swan didn’t consider herself to be vain, but she didn’t hate being appreciated, either. Pikebite’s pelt was covered in a pleasant spotted pattern, her coat a soothing shade of brown and amber eyes bright even in the shade of the medicine cat’s den. The other’s voice was equally as relaxing, not silky smooth but had a quality to it that Swanpath found attractive and easy to listen to.

    “Lovely.” Swanpath agreed, tipping her head to the side. “My pretty face has been through a lot, I’m lucky I’ve more to me than beauty.” There was a shadow of something else to that statement, an emotion that might’ve been rage or bitterness flickering over her features. Considering Swanpath’s well known past with a certain (now exiled) warrior, it wasn’t hard to tie two and two together and see a bit of the pain that lingered still from scars that went beyond her skin. Eager to break the moment of heaviness, the Riverclanner motioned for her companion to take the first bite out of the fish before following in suit, reveling in the familiar taste of the prey. She hadn’t been out hunting in what felt like ages, and her claws itched to catch fish. ‘That can wait until you heal,’ Swan admonished herself.

    “Apprentices may not pose as great a risk as warriors, but they’re certainly hell to deal with. The Windclanner I fought with was small but fought well, albeit her last blow was… Less than appreciated.” The white molly sneered towards the end, raising a paw to brush lightly across her swollen eye. The claw marks were already scabbing as they continued the healing process and that was reassuring, the oozing and pain, however, was not. “So, aside from visiting us stuck in the Meddie’s Den, what’ve you been up to?”

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