wander, wonder (o)

This was a place of death.

Rose had glimpsed the old camp from afar, tasted its scent on the breeze, and now she finally stood on its edges, ears pinned back to her skull. If ever a place had been abandoned by the Scavenger, it was this one. It still choked on memories, weighed down by whatever heinous deeds had long ago been committed here. The seasons might pass, but old weathered bones and abandoned musty nests told their own stories. Rose did not want to be here.

And yet here she was, picking her way down the slope. She was a broad-shouldered, tall, long-furred cat, hopefully not an inviting target, and more than that she was hungry. This place smelled like prey, and not terribly of anyone else’s scent, and she could run if need be- and maybe she was curious. Just maybe. This place was obviously cursed, aye, but if a curse was the closest she could get to the gods of her homeland-

Maybe she was just desperate.

Two fights seemingly back to back had brought a limping and tired Grub back to the old abandoned camp he had found all those months ago. He would have loved to return to the barn and begging his humans to pamper him and bandage up him up. But that she-devil of a river clan cat made sure he left their borders, all eyes on the barn they claimed as theirs. If he had been able to return to his rightful home where he was born and raised, the incident with the dogs on the moor - the one that took his entire left ear - would not have happened. He cursed them all out loud and with every aching muscle in his mottled body.

And once that tantrum was over, he turned his attention to the uninvited guest. "If you're looking to take the only home I have left, at least let me rest without any trouble. All of you forest cats are so... Selfish. I hate you." For the first time since Mr. Worm had passed, tears pricked at his eyes. Not because he was sad, but because he was tired and cold and hungry and frustrated.

The sound of screeching met Rose’s ears just a moment too late to prevent her from whipping around with a startled yelp. If ever her fear had not been deserved, it was now. Her fur slowly laid flat once more as she stared at the sad sight before her: a limping, mangled tom who looked like he’d been used as a toy for wolf cubs. And was apparently cursing the air for it. Okay… she couldn’t really blame him for it, judging by his appearance, but it was dangerous to curse the gods. They could be fickle as fall freezes.

Despite herself, there was something warm stirring in her heart. Empathy could be foolish, kindness met with unsheathed claws (as she had been reminded so recently with a cat no more than a kit), but… she didn’t think she would forgive herself if she didn’t at least try to be kind. It would keep her up at name, and she needed the sleep. At least, that’s what she told herself.

“I- I’m sorry,” she mewed at last, voice quiet and meek. “I wasn’t- I can leave now, if you want. I wasn’t looking to steal your territory. Um…” Her blue gaze darted to the edge of the hollow, where earlier she had glimpsed the wide leaves of comfrey, one of the few herbs still familiar in this new place. “If you want… I mean, there are herbs around. I could chew up some comfrey, for soreness that is, and I’m sure I could find some dock…”

She trailed off. Many of the herbs here were unfamiliar, but that wretched silvery creature had taught her of many. It was… it was the least she could do, even for a cat who had done nothing for her. At the slightest hint of aggression, however, she would bolt- and sleep well tonight.

Grub's wrinkled brow slowly began to smooth out as he watched the she-cat shuffle nervously, her eyes never really meeting his. Was she... Not here to beat him up, too? He sniffled, moving his body to face her directly but continuing to lay down. Yellow eyes looked her up and down suspiciously at the suggestion of using herbs. He knew nothing of herbs. Ointments, maybe. Though that was because whatever his humans gave him usually cured him instantly be it pill or goop. "You won't poison me? You're really here to help me? Why? We've never seen each other before... You don't even know my name and I've done nothing for you." This kind of behavior was not something the greasy-furred tom was used to. Why help him when he had given nothing to her? Did she want something in return?

His eyes darted over to the 'herbs' she was speaking of, never once had it crossed his mind that they could even be eaten. "Are you... A spy? From the forest?" Ever since being left on his own, Grub seemed to show more signs of paranoia. Not a single friend resided in this forest. Maybe Wolfblossom or Silverwing could be considered one, but that was only because they had known Mr. Worm.

She had been prepared for teeth or claws, and for some reason mere distrust caught her off guard. Never had she been the one questioned; always, the other had been the snake in the grass or fickle as fall freezes. Rose blinked, tail slowly flicking behind her. Why? She’d… well. She’d never really thought too much about why, apart from knowing an evil act would eat away at her later. Once, she would’ve told him of how predator demanded loyalty to one’s pack, how prey clung to teamwork and tradition to keep alive, how the scavenger depended upon the other members of the cycle to live; how cats, coming under the jurisdiction of them all, would do well to embody the virtues of the three.

Now? She did not know. She had turned her back upon her gods and homeland alike, and they would not watch over her nor reward her devotion. Now…

“I… because it’s the right thing to do,” she mewed lamely, flicking an ear. “Because… because other cats have been good to me, and I want to pass it on, because I couldn’t sleep at night if I didn’t at least try. It’s- it’s just the right thing to do. The world’s hard enough without us fighting each other, isn’t it? I can… try to help, if you want?”

A… spy? Rose blinked slowly, tilting her head to the side. “…no? I am not- I’m a traveler. My homeland is far to the north, covered in ice and snow. I know of the- the ‘Clans’ through hearsay alone. Have… you met one?”

Ah. There it was. A good deed done in order to preserve their own sanity. He scoffed, "I'm inclined to believe you after that. Helping me because it would help you sleep at night? Sounds about right." He really couldn't hold that against her, though. It is a harsh and unforgiving world out there. Still, his eyes remained narrowed and unblinking as he continued to listen... Only to suddenly perk up as she said his favorite words: "...I'm a traveler." For a moment, all pain - both physically and mentally - vanished. His eyes lit up curiously, crooked whiskers twitching with heavily restrained excitement. A land covered in ice and snow... What terrible place to live. He wanted to know more!

His excitement was almost lost at the next question, his singular ear flicking. "Yea, I've met many. Just about every single one of them has hooked their claws in me, or blamed me for some odd accident just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time." His head titled to one side, the blood that desperately tried to form a scab dripping onto the ground instead. "What's your name?"

Rose blinked slowly. Savages, then, these “Clan” cats, and yet that had not quite met her estimate of them. With a wince and a hesitant step backwards, she watched his blood pool on the ground, staining the dirt crimson. That could hardly be good. The Clan cats had done this to him? Gods, the strength of their jaws and sharpness of their teeth… Rose had seen a wolf rip a fox’s ear clean off, aye, but cats with the strength to do so must have something unnatural in their veins. She shifted her weight from side to side, unsure. He had not rejected her help, she did not think (his words had not exactly served to make the issue clear), but he had not accepted it, either. At any rate, the likelihood of him bleeding to death during this conversation was… worryingly high.

“I- I’m Rose,” she mewed after a moment’s hesitation. One could not discriminate between who they helped and who they did not based off pelt care, and yet underneath the scars and the blood his fur was greasy and matted. Not exactly the sort of companionship she sought. “You?”

She seemed... Receptive of his scorn for the cats of the forest. He liked that. He wasn't being completely honest on how his ear went missing, but if it meant she might hold some sort of hate or fear for those forest cats? So be it. He would continue his tiny little... mistruths. With every fiber of his being, he hated - despised - both the wind clan and river clan. Would he ever do something about it? Not really. The best he could do alone was leave rotting garbage in their nests. Though he couldn't do that the way he was now; he could already feel himself getting lightheaded just from standing. With a sigh, he laid back down, eyes scanning the molly once more. Rose... He could work with that. "A fitting name for a pretty lady." He forced his signature lop-sided grin. "You said you could heal me. I'd like that very much - along with a tale of where you're from, if you don't mind." He shrugged, knowing he was already asking too much. Though it was her who had even offered with the herbs. Worth a try, anyway.

ooc: srry it's short im struggling with muse for some characters atm

Rose’s ears flicked back at the filthy tom-cat’s words, fully taken aback. Right. That was… a compliment. She would take it as such. Wordlessly, she turned and scrambled up the slope, taking only a few minutes to dig up some fat comfrey roots before trotting back down into the hollow. “I’ll chew this into a poultice…”

The roots were tough, but Rose’s teeth were sharp, and she had soon enough turned the roots into a mushy mess, perfect for the healing of wounds. She paused, sizing up the injury and wondering just how much dirt had gotten in there already (probably enough to cause infection, but there was little else she could do). “This will hurt, a little, but please hold still.”

As carefully as she could, she applied the makeshift poultice. “If you move too fast, it’ll fall off, so please be careful. As for myself, I do not herald from any place you would know. The land of the grinding ice lies far to the north, where the snow never melts and spring is naught but a legend. Things live there that would hunt a cat down like we would a mouse; wolves and bears and great sea-creatures longer than a tree is tall, with countless rows of sharp serrated teeth. To exist in the land of the grinding ice is to be prey as often as predator.”

Normally, Rose would’ve hesitated before sharing her past (and particularly in such a dramatic manner) but she needed him to hold still, and if such a take could do so, so be it.

ooc: same lol