Welcome to the Grump Squad {Closed}

Scorchclaw had always hated thorns, and he was especially hating them that afternoon. There was one currently in his right forepaw, its dark end protruding obnoxiously from the edge of his paw pad. The evil existence had been cleverly disguised in the foliage. By the time he had felt the stab of pain, it was all too late. Now he glowered at the offending thorn. If looks could kill, the thorn would be... not dead, since it wasn't living in the first place. If his glare could start a fire, however, the thorn would already have been reduced to ashes. It would have been a simple matter to pull any other thorn out, but this thorn was a little too large for such actions. At the thought of the pain that would be caused, he couldn't help the wince that crossed his features. The large tabby had been reduced to limping. It was clear that he had a problem, and it was one that had to be dealt with speedily. This had to happen just when the sun had finally returned. Living in the darkness caused by Lichenmask, he had not so much as seen a thorn; the moment the sun came back, he had to go and step on one.

That was how the fluffy deputy found himself in the entrance of the Medicine Den. When it came to dealing with thorns, he was limited to several options. "Goldeneye." He called, as he stepped tentatively into the den's cool interior. Strong herb scent drifted through the air, assaulting his nose. It had been several days since the battle with Lichenmask's forces. The situation had more or less settled down, but the nests were filled with the fidgeting bodies of his wounded clanmates. His gaze narrowed, darkening upon taking in the sight. "A problem has occurred." His tone was sharp with irritability when he sought out the ginger she-cat. It was irritability not directed at Goldeneye, but stemming from the troubles the thorn had already given him. With everything that had occurred over the past few days, his workload had increased. There were about dozen things that he still had to see to. The sooner he got rid of the thorn in his flesh, the sooner he could return to his duties. In a bad mood as usual, he failed to realize the effect that his tone could bring about.

"There's a thorn in my paw."

Goldeneye didn't turn her head at the mention of her name, but she acknowledged it with a flick of her ear. Finishing with changing the bandages on one of her more severely injured clan-mates she gave a long-suffering sigh and turned to look at Scorchclaw, her eyes cold as she looked at the tom before her. Ever since she had... put an end to that apprentice's life and they had scratched at her with a fierceness only a dying cat could muster the sight in her left eye hadn't been the same. She could still see out of it sure, but it was always blurry, often times having her narrowly collide into things she thought were a little farther away. Since she had learned of this fact, she had been a little shorter of temper than usual.

So when a certain deputy walked in with a thorn of all things in his paw, him mewling like a little kit she spared him no mercy. "So." She meowed, her tone cold and hard like the sunningrocks on an overcast leaf-bare day. "You have come to me to pull a thorn out of your paw." She stated matter-of-factly, her golden hues connecting with Scorchclaws eyes with such an intensity she could put the fear of Starclan into him with sight alone. "When I am at my busiest with countless war casualties to take care of?" Goldeneye didn't need to bare her teeth with her voice alone gave the impression that she was snarling.

"Never the less, this is the very same tom that had yelled at an apprentice to do her job?" Goldeneye got to her paw, claws unsheathing, her paws caked with the blood of her clan-mates. "If I had any less respect for my job, for my role as a clan-mate I would have let that apprentice rot for how you treated Amberpaw!" Goldeneye snapped, her fur bristling as she brought Scorchclaws paw towards her, her hold gentle but all the same threatening. Her teeth fastened around it and yanked it free, her tongue lapping away at the blood until it clotted itself. "I don't know where you think having an attitude like that is useful. But I will not tolerate it, you may put up a farce that makes your clan-mates fear you, or regard you with caution but I do not care for it. I am less inclined to show mercy than Fallowpaw is." Goldeneye hissed, her rant and rave ending with her nose just a mouse length away from his. She may be smaller, and less experienced, but she was scary when she wanted to be.

When Goldeneye finally turned, her gaze was cold enough to freeze flames over. Before she had begun to speak, her expression had already given away the thoughts running through her mind. Wounds littered one side of her face, standing out starkly against her pale fur. While they had at least closed over, they had yet to scar. Even as a medicine cat, she had not left the battlefield unscathed. Having toiled continuously for the past few days to care for the wounded, she was undoubtedly worn out. Her reaction to the brown tabby was an understandable one. Objectively, that was. Scorchclaw's rational side was capable of comprehending the edge behind her words, but that didn't mean he had a big enough heart to simply take it.

At the medicine cat's sharp tone, his pale green eyes instantly narrowed. A low growl vibrated from within Scorchclaw. He was well-aware of the fact that Goldeneye and Fallowpaw were occupied. Perhaps it had been foolish of him to approach them at this moment. But no. If it had been a day or two earlier, he wouldn't have even thought of bothering them. He wasn't selfish enough to distract them when his clanmates' lives were in danger. So he had made a mistake, and Goldeneye was clearly in a worse state than he had thought. Still, it wasn't as if he had demanded that they drop everything to deal with his problem. She did not have to be that upset. Scorchclaw grit his teeth, holding back the retort that was bubbling up. Goldeneye wasn't particularly known for sugarcoating her words, and he knew that.

Nevertheless, the more Scorchclaw heard, the harder it became to control himself. When Goldeneye's jaws closed around the thorn, barely a flinch crossed his face. The process was over as soon as it had begun. In an instance, it had been extracted from his paw, and the medicine cat had dealt with the blood that sprung forth. While it had hurt (admittedly so), Goldeneye's testy attitude had caused a kind of stubborn pride to be born. He met her glare with one of equal intensity. With all the glaring he did on a daily basis, he was quite practiced in the art. Burning green clashed with sparking gold. "Did you expect me to simply stand by when a clanmate is dying?" He growled, not bothering to veil the anger in his tone. "An apprentice? What of it? Perhaps you have forgotten that Mottledpaw isn't much older. What's the point in being a medicine cat if she can't act when she needs to?" If Goldeneye wanted to do things this way, he would oblige. If she was intimidating at that moment, then he would be equally so. Dark tail lashing the air, he drew himself up to his full height. "Are you really one to talk, Goldeneye? Are you really trying to say that you've never yelled at anyone? Surely you're not that blind. Perhaps you ought to look in a puddle. A hypocrite like you has no place lecturing me."

"Those medicine cat apprentices are just fresh out of the nursery compared to us, and yet they have their clans lives on their paws! They barely know anything of this world, or how to treat wounds which is exactly the reason it was Fallowpaw and I treating those cats with heavier injuries!" Goldeneye snarled, her tail lashing, he did have a point but she stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. "I am fully aware I have but never have I raised my voice to a cat just trying to do their job; at apprentices just fresh out of their apprentice ceremonies! Kits I have yelled at more than there are blades of grass, but never would I ever raise my voice who was scared like that. Frightened at their core and petrified, she's no more than a kit! Looking at the carnage as her clan-mates were and almost were slaughtered! Skyclan has not been through the same experiences we have been in." Goldeneye snarled something and everything about her looking to soften.

"It's different for us Scorchclaw because we have seen it all; felt it all. I was splayed open by the gorge and left to die, you have faced countless hardships after hardships. We are leagues above the young lives who have never seen what we have." Goldeneye's wounds on her brow, across her muzzle, blistered open as scabs broke and dampened her pale muzzle. Goldeneye's tongue swiped absent-mindedly over them, the tang of iron on her tongue no longer foreign to her. It no longer phased her like it used to. "I have been drenched in a river of blood ever since I was called to my position by the stars themselves, Amberpaw has not even dipped a claw into that river until that night. She plunged in that night, and it was either sink or swim. Tell me, Scorchclaw is it not the job of the older and more experienced than cats like her to protect and nurture such lives? To do our duties well and going beyond each and every day so our youth, our kits and their kits can know peace? So they do not have to learn the taste of battle as if it was second nature?" Goldeneye spat, her words ringing true, the she-cat was wise beyond her years. It was only to be expected of Starclans chosen.

"It's foolish to expect young, precious lives to be expected to perform at the same level of capacity we can." Goldeneye snarled, her claws working the ground beneath her. "Mottledpaw would not have died under my care if I had treated her immediately or if I had waited for a moon. You seem to forget that I know how to do my job, so well in fact that I have not lost one clan-mate that I have helped. That I have been able to help from the start. It's about time you start acting like your position expects you to be." The medicine cat turned to look at the injured behind her pointedly. "None of them are dead, aside from the cats caught by the fire or immediately slaughtered on that battlefield. We have suffered very minimal casualties, there are very few of those who have suffered major injuries. Mottledpaw was considered a minimal injury case." Her lips curled as she glared at the tom in front of her, daring him to refute her, to take her words and twist them, to call her wrong in front of all of his clan-mates that she and Fallowpaw had healed.

"Go ahead, twist my words against me Scorchclaw. I dare you." Goldeneye snarled venom thickly coating her words.

What had stemmed from a simple thorn in Scorchclaw's paw had quickly evolved into something much more. Invisible sparks seemed to crackle in the air. Fortunately or unfortunately, there was no one around to step between deputy and medicine cat. The wounded lay as still as sleeping cats possibly could in their nests. Perhaps one or two had awoken, but if they had, they were smart enough to pretend to be asleep. Scorchclaw growled, revealing his teeth. "Do you intend to coddle them, then?! Goldeneye, look around. Does it look like we're living in an era of peace to you? In case you've somehow forgotten, StarClan just abandoned us for over a moon. The world we live in is one of claws and bloodshed, and that won't change anytime soon. They need to get used to it as soon as possible. Sheltering them unnecessarily will only bring them further pain the future!" If Goldeneye was right about one thing, it was that the reality they had been raised in was not a pleasant one. Scorchclaw had been born during the Sunningrocks war. At a young age, he had already become accustomed to conflict. As an apprentice, he had accompanied Ivystar to ThunderClan's camp. Before his eyes, a warrior had been sentenced to death, and an apprentice had been ripped from her clan. He had seen the grieving of their families, watched it all with a cold, expressionless gaze. Neither he nor Goldeneye had grown up wrapped in feathers and petals. But that was precisely why his beliefs mirrored hers. "Whether you wish for it or not, they will be drenched in a river of blood before long."

This was the tom who had cast his mentor aside after she had betrayed the clan. Perhaps, war had forced him to grow up too quickly. He had grown strong, in a certain sense. He then naturally demanded that same strength of others. Goldeneye's words, "It's about time you start acting like your position expects you to be", cut deeper than most of her other remarks. It hit right where he hurt. The inevident sting driving his anger to a greater height, he pressed on.

"There is no time for hesitation on the battlefield, Goldeneye! They either learn now or learn later." Scorchclaw hissed, bright gaze blazing with intensity. Seeming to calm down for a moment, he took in the sight of the ginger she-cat. "You are skilled." Surprisingly, he agreed with her. "RiverClan is blessed to have a medicine cat like you." The tone in which he praised her was full of nothing but earnestness. She had saved Adderfeather and countless others of his clanmates. He would forever be grateful for her work. However, there was also a stubborn gleam in his eyes, revealing that he was not going to back down easily. "But you're wrong if you believe that you can do everything by yourself. Where were you? Where were you when I brought Mottledpaw back? Were you not dealing with those who had suffered other injuries? Amberpaw of SkyClan had no choice but to take over. Your attempt to shield a younger cat is admirable, but they can't depend on you forever. You were the only full medicine cat, accompanied by two apprentices. You say that I frightened her, but did it not spur her to action?"

Goldeneye couldn't deny anything he said and she hated herself all the more for it. Looking away her gaze hardened into cold stone once more, "We wouldn't have been in this mess if I had just followed my gut and slaughtered Lichenmask as a kitten. We wouldn't be swimming in all this blood if I hadn't told Ivystar to go to war, Windclan and Riverclan wouldn't be at each other's throats now if I hadn't told her that Riverclan wouldn't make it past leaf-bare without more herbs." She changed the course of their conversation just slightly, not willing to admit the fact that Scorchclaw was right. She couldn't rebuttal his argument, and it left a sour taste on her tongue. Not even completely aware that she had stated their strifes as her fault.

She just hoped they would be alright, that they would be able to cope with the strain this battle would cause. Goldeneye almost choked on her own saliva as the battles that happened in moons past, the wounds she sustained, the loved ones came to the forefront. The facade she had stubbornly built, the walls she crafted meticulously shaking on their foundations. She was not as strong as she made them believe, now, she was yearning for the comfort of Jaystar and Starlord. She wanted to desperately hideaway in the back of the den and not come out in a season. "They need time to be young, to be the kittens they are at heart still, to learn so they can develop habits healthy to them and their mentalities. There's more to healing than physical, a lot of it is also in your head." Goldeneye meowed, turning back to Scorchclaw, her seething anger nullified to writhe around under her skin.

"Where were you when I had to slaughter an exile to defend Fallowpaws life?" Goldeneyes tone stiff and cold, the sudden overwhelming urge to retreat and lick her wounds almost too much to bare, but she had to stand tall and show that she was strong.

Scorchclaw did not point out that Goldeneye had changed the focus of their conversation. She had not refuted his words, a fact that he obviously noticed. In their glaring competition, she was the first to avert her gaze. "Perhaps it is your fault." The brown tabby agreed, his tone now cold. "But you merely chose what seemed to you as the best course of action. Ivystar and Jaystream accepted your words and went to war. They are equally to blame." How could she just pin all the blame on herself? It was exasperating how easily she did so. He had never once thought of all that had happened as her fault.

Goldeneye's seemingly-unshakable exterior was crumbling. Scorchclaw could almost see the cracks that shot through the defenses she had set up. With a start, he realized that even Goldeneye had her own fragility. She seemed smaller now, more vulnerable. The sight doused the flames of his anger to nothing more than a fizzle. She was tired, he could tell. Tired from everything that had happened thus far. "RiverClan's survival comes before everything else." He declared solemnly. There was a hard glint in his green eyes. "If that means war, then so be it."

Scorchclaw had remained unyielding in the face of Goldeneye's fierceness, and he remained unyielding even now. The ginger she-cat's arguments made sense, but they were misguided. "I have nothing against younger cats having fun. They can take the time to be young, as long as they pick the right time to do so." The revelation that Goldeneye had killed one of the Exiles didn't faze him in the slightest. If he had been faced with the same situation, he would have done the same thing. Was she blaming him now? Blaming him for not being there to defend Fallowpaw? "Where do you think I was?" He snarled indignantly, "Where could I have been, but the battlefield? Do you think that I was off killing time alone?" There was a slight pause as the question hung heavily in the air.

Releasing an aggravated sigh, he settled back on his haunches. Pale gaze flicked over the medicine cat. Her own wounds had not even healed, and here she stood, the dried blood of her clanmates all over her paws. "You need to get as much rest as you can. I'll send you a few apprentices who can help you with the minor tasks."