Sharing Tongues[OPEN]

Spotfur laid on the dirt. Sitting was a challenge due to his missing leg. While the warm greenleaf rays of sun warmed him, he just felt cold inside. Riverclan was large and it just made the tom feel so alone. Smokewish had gone missing and he could barely stand it. Younger cats never interacted with him except kits and apprentices asking about his leg. It had started to give him nightmares again, reliving that moment over and over. He had to keep telling himself... It wasn't Scorchclaw's fault... It wasn't his fault! It wasn't, it wasn't! But deep inside he knew that might not be true. He couldn't just blame the deputy for his problems, though. There was so much pressure... he just wanted to dunk under the water and scream. Where no one can hear you scream... "No! Stop it!" He hissed under his breath, trying to shake the thoughts away, but it was too late. Shadefang's insane eyes, bloodstained muzzle, and razor teeth filled his vision. That creature had taken his leg, had taken a friend, had nearly taken his child. How could he fight the fear when he was still out there? He hadn't noticed, but Spotfur was shaking on his paws, alone in his basking session in his corner of the world.

Dragging a rabbit into camp, Minnowslip was preoccupied at the task at hand, her golden eyes locked onto her goal of reaching the bloody freshkill pile before her jaw fell off from carrying the fat rodent. Ever the one-track minded cat, she almost missed Spotfur's hushed hisses, only really realising what had happened from the light tremors and the general unwillingness of the tom to meet anyone's eyes. Internally, she cursed, knowing that all familiar haunted look that came across the younger tom from when her father was with her. The past could never just stay in the past.

Dropping the carcass onto the pile, she made her plan of attack. She picked a fat vole to wolf down, barely tasting the rich gamey flesh as she ate with purpose. Quickly, she licked herself clean and presentable before she trotted over to where the tom was basking, tail high in greeting. "Care to help a she-cat out? Got this patch of fur that I can't reach on my back that I swear has a burr in it. It's been bothering me for days."

There was no pity or useless sympathy in her eyes, she wouldn't belittle him like that. Even without a leg, he was a fellow warrior, worthy of the name he'd been given. She just wanted to spend time with him, let him know that nothing had changed.

ooc: ah jeez I tried posting this twice and I thought it did, sorry for lateness!

ic: Spotfur was about to snap, but held back. He turned to Minnowslip. Of any cat to ask, she had to choose him. He studied her face, but the only thing that showed was just normal friendliness towards a clanmate. This almost felt like a punishment. He heaved himself to his paws. "Sure." Devoid of emotion other than the emptiness, the tom unsheathed his claws to hook onto the burr. He stretched as tall as he could to try and find it and, one-pawed, tried to find the burr. He was careful not to scratch her, and, eyes narrowed in concentration, ran his claws through her pelt. He found a tangle or two closer to her skin, but no burrs. "I can't seem to find any. You're sure that's what it was?" He asked, concered. "I haven't seen any ticks, but it could be that, or maybe something got irritated?" It was in that moment that he caught his eyes on a different patch of fur. There it was, the burr. "...Never mind, I found it." He swiped it out and smashed it.