I Went Out for Fresh Air (closed)

"Just checking. You never know," He said with an airy twitch of his tail that pulled at yet another injury. This walk wasn't going to be pleasant. At all. Luckily, Snakerocks wasn't too far - one of the reasons he'd chosen to come by this way, actually. He fought to keep a grimace off his maw at the pain radiating from neck to tail-tip, though mostly centred in his shoulder. "And I have a feeling I'd get in trouble if I invited someone shady back to camp."

"Understandable." She replied. Keeping the pain out of her voice and expression as she walked was proving to be difficult. If she was turned away after this... She didn't know. She'd have to find another way, somehow. Hopefully getting into a scrap with a dog and getting herself injured to help a stranger out of pure altruism would prove worth it.

By the time they got within a few tree-lengths' range of the camp's entrance, Minkstar was starting to see the world in dizzy blurrs again, congealed blood crusting up his chest and leg. Almost felt like his paw wouldn't come away if he dared to try lowering it. So it was a relief when they passed one of the final markers, a heartfelt exhalation sighing from his maw. "Should be just here, in a... bit...."

"Minkstar!"

Oh, you've got to be kidding me.

Rushing pawsteps broke through the undergrowth, random hapless NPC bursting into view with wide eyes that darted over his bloodied frame. "I- Oh silverpelt what happened to you I smelled blood are you okay-?" And that was when they abruptly seemed to notice the she-cat, pelt immediately bristling up and teeth baring. "Minkstar, there's a rogue-!"

"Yes, Stickdance, I'm aware." He did his best to contain the annoyance in his tone, letting a quiet sigh leak from between his teeth as he carefully avoided glancing at the loner. So much for breaking it to her gently. "And she's with me. She saved me after I found a dog, which I'm guessing none of you heard."

Wide-eyed guilt suddenly spread over their expression, the aggression halting in its tracks. "A dog? I thought I heard distant barking but- oh stars, I'm so sorry I should've-!"

He flicked the other's shoulder with his tail as he started hobbling forwards once more, a wry smile twisting his mouth. "Don't worry about it. Like I said, I had help." Finally, he glanced over his shoulder at the rogue, flicking an ear. "I have two names; the other one happens to be Minkstar. Welcome to ThunderClan. Or, well, welcome to ThunderClan while our medicine cat sees to your wounds, anyway."

The cat that called out said a different name than Strom... And then seemed to take a moment to notice her. Did he think that the ginger and white tom wouldn't notice a cat standing next to him? Or was he just uneasy about the clear outsider in their midst? Her eyes narrowed slightly, a sudden burst of wariness making the she-cat lift her head, fur lifting a little in alarm.

Atalante was sure the two of them made quite the sight, wounds and blood coating their fur quite liberally. Strom... Minkstar, apparently? Was quick to interject, seeming to soothe the other tom's (Stickdance? Really? What sort of name was that, even?) alarm for the moment. She watched as the tom's expression changed from one of aggression to guilt as Minkstar continued.

"You-" She began as Minkstar addressed her, then shook her head. "Well-played, I suppose." She muttered, one ear twitching. Of course that would just be her luck, wouldn't it? Save the clan's leader from a dog? Well, at least she had a paw in the proverbial den, now.

"You have my thanks." She mewed. She'd need to make staying a more permanent arrangement, perhaps they'd be agreeable if she kept her head down while recovering in their camp.

He made his way carefully down into the ravine, his hampered leg making it a little more of an exercise than usual, Stickdance falling in behind them with a hint of hesitation he could feel all the way from here. Glancing back, he twitched the end of his tail. "You'll forgive me for being cautious. It hasn't exactly been the best month - I wasn't kidding about the dogs."

Reaching the bottom of the ravine and indicating that she should follow him to the medicine den, he added, "Which also happens to mean we really could use a pair of extra paws like yours. It'd be nice to know why exactly you're so keen to join, though."

"Yeah, I understand." The tom hadn't looked like he was in the best health when she'd first spotted him, and that clearly hadn't been all just from the dog they'd fought, so she didn't think he was lying.

Why she wanted to join... A good question. One she'd spent time figuring how to answer in case she was asked. She couldn't admit to whose daughter she was, even if Klaus had undertaken a new name, it was simply too risky. Saying she wanted to protect a she-cat that she had never met would never work, either.

"My dad and I had a falling out. I'm no fan of needless violence, so I've been on my own since then. I've been around the clan borders a fair bit, and there's something to be said for staying in one well-protected territory and not fighting off every desperate rogue for each scrap of prey." She answered, "Your clans seem more structured than the average pawful of rogues just trying to scrape by, even if it's the dead of leafbare. I'd rather my claws go to something useful rather than fight for everything needlessly." That much was true, though likely not for the reasons anyone would expect her to give. The forgotten order had an interest in Thunderclan, and so Atalante would carry out her mission as her father had ordered. Laying low and keeping an eye on a queen and her kits would be less nightmare-inducing than battling cats on their own territory, she was sure.

"Sounds like quite a story." He contemplated her for a moment, and then twitched his whiskers in an approximation of a shrug. It sounded legitimate enough - though perhaps not quite enough for putting her life at risk to save a total stranger. Still, she was here now, and they'd make sure to keep an eye on her. Perhaps he'd regret his decision later, once his head wasn't reeling from pain and loss of blood, and Stoatfur was able to point out the logical fallacies, but for now they both needed medical attention. "Well, we have an integration period for any cat that wants to join - pass it and you'll be fine. Practically everyone does; I don't think we've ever had to chase out any new cat."

Ducking under the brittle remainders of the fronds arching over the entrance to the medicine den, he limped inside, ready to face the medicine cat apprentice's concern if it meant making it into a nest, his shoulder throbbing to the beat of his heart and tingling in his paw. I've lost count of how many visits I've made here, like this.