Have We Ever... Properly Talked? [closed for Ink]

Blacktwig sat in camp, alone... with his injuries. His hind legs hadn't nearly healed enough yet, and each time they moved, he winced. His courage undoubtedly paled beside the pain that shot through his limbs. He felt just enough strength accredit him to stand up and limp to where the sun was slowly setting. The feud with Sleetfang, the traitor, seemed like so long ago, though his shanks still hurt him horribly. He tried to take his mind off of his mangled legs, shutting his eyes to deep darkness. He could hear muffled voices... louder, louder...

"C'mon, Meadowkit, over here!"
"Ugh, no, don't shoot to Featherkit! You she-cats are always siding with each other!"

"No, Blackkit, it's just that she's more reliable than you!"

"Well, at least I'm independent!"

Blacktwig sighed as the memories, that had had dallied in the back of his mind for so long, fluttered before his eyes. He felt a blast of cold air hit his pelt, and he opened his optics to the real world. He heard the lowing of the wind as he conveyed himself further into camp. Maybe he could get some hunting done? He didn't have the aptitude in his timbre to call out, so just gimped out of camp into the woods. The chilly breeze sang into his ears. He saw a mouse rock itself away from a bramble, and he readied himself.

With his hind legs still aching with protesting pain, he stifled another whimper. With his haunches promptly erected, he lowered himself to the ground until his underbelly contacted the frigid ground. He padded forwards. When he almost sprang, he felt the gripe intensify. It hindered him so much that he succumbed, leaving the rodent alone.

He then saw a pretty, light rosette-speckled coat, and revolved so that he could see who it was. "Who..." he began weakly. His weight could barely be supported by his lame columns. Blacktwig prepared himself to run away, his whole body tensing with anticipation. The battle with Sleetfang had sharpened his alertness. Why, oh why, did Emberheart ever mate with him?

Blizzardshine was returning from one of her usual lone walks around the territory when she noticed Blacktwig not far from the entrance of camp. She had heard about the fight against the crazed warrior in which Blacktwig had been involved, but she hadn’t been exactly informed of what had happened in it just yet, to the point of not even knowing who the crazed warrior was or from which clan he came from.

Sighing deeply with a smile, she padded towards him and sat at his side, placing her fluffy tail on Blacktwig’s body as soon as she noticed how he tensed, being carefully to not get close to any of his injuries “It’s just me, Blacktwig” She purred “What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be recovering in camp?” Even if her voice was as gentle as always, it held a clear tone of worry. Even if she had been trying to ignore she couldn’t help but notice that he hadn’t been acting quite like himself since he returned from the fight. If she hadn’t asked about it yet was because she was afraid that he could fall into depression yet again if she made him remember such occurrence…but at this point she was starting to think that taking such decision wasn’t as wise as she originally thought, and she could be harming Blacktwig through the strategy she thought would protect him instead.

“Is there anything you want to talk about?”

"Oh, Blizzardshine," gasped Blacktwig, thankful that it was only the opaline she-cat he was used to. He felt an odd sense of becoming comfort eddying around him. "I'm sorry," he continued, "I didn't know it was you." Blacktwig licked the deputy's shoulder in respect, in a fashion as one would perform during a ceremony. He padded around unsteadily. "How have you been?" asked Blacktwig decorously. His legs, which had previously been rent with scourges, seemed to be healing up quite nicely. Birds chorused in time for Newleaf, and Blacktwig gave a rusty purr. Many a merry time were to be had! The warrior grinned at Blizzardshine, lodging himself prudently on the ground. He began to wash a paw, garnished with swarthy-and-cream speckles, painting it with licks. He admired the molly, a chalky deputy who had been his idol for so long. Now, to think that they were almost on the same level! No, not quite. Blizzardshine was the deputy! The wind whistled through ligneous boughs, palliative breezes kissing and cosseting the two cats' pelts.

Blizzardshine smiled at Blacktwig, though felt slightly odd when he licked her shoulder. She wasn’t used to be treated with such respects out of ceremonies and gatherings, given her constant tries to be seen as not the second of command for her clanmates, but a friend they could always count on if needed. She had been deputy for quite a while by now, but she still couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that even if she didn’t want to, most cats saw her as an authority figure more than anything else.

“I’ve been well, taking a couple walks around the territory and hunting on my own. I needed some time on my own to put my thoughts in order” Her gaze lowered to look at his healing scars, a flash of worry clear on her eyes for a couple heartbeats. She knew he was healing just fine, but she still couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous “What about you, though? You surely took quite a beating a couple sunrises ago”.