somewhere far from normal [closed]

Previously, his eyes had only witnessed the lazy drift of the stream in Skyclan territory, a stream that ceased to exist. These waters were more relentless in their eternal pursuit. Even if they were lower than before, Wrenspring had no previous relationship with the river. His eyes stared into the flowing current in the distance, broken by flashes of fish, stirring rocks, and dancing water foliage. The flicker of colors underneath the light of the sun's rays was a jarring feat and yet he was enamored by the beauty of it. In some twisted way, this moment was reminiscent of the last moon that had befallen him and the rest of Skyclan.

Pebbles seldom stayed in the same spot. Everything was pestered into a new spot. How could something that displaced so many little things possess such a natural beauty? The warrior blinked and shook his head, pulling himself away from the draw of the scene on this serene day. It would have been perfect, if circumstances were different and their own territory was more than a burnt husk. Riverclan has chosen to shelter them, for now. Being at the mercy of what had traditionally been an enemy clan caused a persistent itch underneath his pelt. Or maybe that was the healing wounds. They'd begun the process of settling into various scars. A memory his his best friend; such a bittersweet and twisted thing.

Wrenspring finally turned his attention to an approaching cat, Smokefeather, his clanmate and currently the other half of their makeshift patrol. They hadn't wandered far from camp, seeking out parts of the territory that held even an ounce of similarly to their ruined home. Embarassment heated his ears as he noticed the distraction had prevented any prey from finding his paws. It wasn't an excuse, he hadn't even used the injuries to justify lack of contributing to the clan. His head dipped to the she-cat and he meowed a low greeting, "It feels wrong to hunt here, doesn't it?"

ooc;; i wrote it in poorly and im on mobile at work rn but for clarification purposes, he's standing at the very edge of the beech copse, staring at the river in the distance

Riverclan's camp was practically overflowing with cats, so when a hunting patrol was offered, Smokefeather had jumped at the chance eagerly. A few days of forced rest after the fight with the dog and then the subsequent travelling back to forest territory had left her antsy and even less able to sit still.

Still, Wrenspring wasn't alone in his distraction, it seemed. Smokefeather gazed at the distant river somewhat pensively. She had never liked getting her paws wet, but still to see it so low even now after the fire, felt wrong. Riverclan somehow seemed to being doing okay, but it was disconcerting nonetheless. Smokefeather missed the dry, rocky soil and tall trees of home. She missed leaping through the trees after squirrels and quail. The soft murmur of the small creek that cut through their territory. Even the pesky geese that always seemed to attack whenever she hunted near the creek, she missed. They were certainly easier to deal with than dogs or rogues.

Wrenspring's quiet voice drew her attention, and the fluffy warrior glanced over at him, "It does, and it's so different from our own territory." Smokefeather agreed, a note of wistfulness entering her voice.

Neither of them had caught any prey, she realized, and Smokefeather twitched her ears back in slight embarrassment. Gray-green eyes slid over to the beech copse, There were bound to be birds and squirrels within, right? Twolegplace had offered little in the way of decent prey.

On the heels of that thought, a squirrel caught her attention, moving in the trees. Smokefeather flicked her tail to signal she was going after the creature, and stepped quietly forward. She leapt into the nearest tree, intending to grab the squirrel from the low branches. Jaws snapping shut around the squirrel's neck, her claws sank into the bark of the tree as she leapt back down triumphantly and went to bury the squirrel.

Smokefeather attempted to catch a squirrel for -3sp. Catch successful!
197/200sp

The member 'kjSage' has done the following action : Dices roll

---

'Hunting Dice' : 5

Her wistful words mirrored desires of his own. Clans had never shared camps, not that he knew of. Skyclan belonged underneath stretched tree limbs with dense leafage and rocky terrain underfoot. This springy grass underfoot, while soft, hardly brought comfort to the displaced warrior. The response simply came in the form of a flicking ear. Despite sharing a den for some time, the pair of warriors hadn't interacted much. It was times like these that Wrenspring found himself painfully aware of the way he hardly did more than engage in light conversations with others on patrol. There had never been a need for him to strike up a long conversation, and even with Redfall and others he was close with, the bicolored tom found himself unable to go beyond a surface level conversation.

Another flick of the ear.

Maybe this was why the gap between he and his kithood best friend had slowly widened into a void. Even if he was outgoing and willing to chat with anyone, willing to engage where needed and solemnly stand during their devastating losses, Wrenspring hardly found himself truly knowing what was beneath the pelt of any cat. His green eyes stared after Smokefeather who seemed to have found something. A grief runs through her kin right now, and the only comfort I've offered was stepping between Bloodstrike and Spottedstar. This time, it was his tail that drifted back and forth as the thoughts ran through his head. Despite the difference in territory, it appeared his clanmate had no trouble picking up on something nearby. Already a smile was across his maw as she descended from the tree. He trotted over to greet her warmly and congratulate her on the catch.

Even with the unusual circumstances, there was something reassuring about a hunting patrol. Wrenspring meowed happily, "Nice catch, Smokefeather! Not even the stench of fish can hold you back it seems." His shoulder had faltered slightly in the swift pursuit, something he had almost forgotten about for a moment. The tom clenched his teeth but found solace in the fact his strides were longer and the pain grew less excruciating by the day. While perhaps he should have been more focused on what prey was around them, the warrior's mind still churned with thoughts from a moment earlier, "Hey, uh, I've been meaning to say... I'm sorry Mistrain didn't come back. I know you and Bloodstrike were close with her. I'll miss seeing her around." His ears fell slightly and he cast his gaze towards the earth. As he thought about their late clanmate, it was easy to picture her pelt. The words, while an effort to make amends with his own inadequacy, rang with honesty.

"It's better than hunting in twolegplace, even if it does smell like fish." She mewed. Despite the ever-present river and the shallow pools and streams of water, and the overcrowded Riverclan camp, Smokefeather believed her words. Riverclan was weird, and their habits confounded her, but it was a small step closer to home. She had to look on the positive side of things, or she'd start weeping. And she'd done enough of that recently to last seasons.

"How are you holding up?" Smokefeather asked, noticing the slight falter to his step. She had more or less carried the injured warrior, with Swansong's and Beechpaw's help, to twolegplace. Otherwise, she'd been trying to drown herself in work, training the apprentices and going on hunts, to distract herself from everything that was happening. It had worked, but not how she'd really hoped. She was still alone with her thoughts, and had hardly interacted with more than a few of her clanmates. She should have made the effort sooner.

The tom's words shifted, and Smokefeather sighed quietly. "I... Thank you... I keep thinking if I'd known I could've gone back to help." Her gaze traveled to the burned trees across the river, the scorched remnants of Skyclan territory dark and silent in the distance. She still woke sometimes, feeling the blistering heat on her paws and with her clanmates' yowls filling her ears.

"I feel for Blossomstep and Wolfcall, I can't imagine what they're going through now." Smokefeather prayed that she would never experience the pain of outliving her own kits, that they'd never succumb to such a horrific fate. She'd considered Mistrain a friend, her mate had been closer to his sister than anyone, and her death hit hard. It shouldn't have been sweet, shy Mistrain that died in the flames. Smokefeather wanted to believe in Starclan, but when senseless tragedy such as this befell her friends and clanmates, she found it harder. Why would Starclan let them suffer so? Why take an innocent, one of the kindest cats Smokefeather had known? It simply wasn't fair. Life wasn't fair, her father had taught her that from a young age, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

A slight mrrow of laughter left his maw at the sentiment, accompanied by a twitch of whiskers. It was quickly replaced with a more neutral expression. Nothing could ever compare to the soulless stone twolegplace. This whole ordeal was he would gladly forget, and would hopefully be a memory the kits of Skyclan would never possess themselves; soon this would be little more than an elder's tale. Wrenspring had found his eyes glazed over for just a brief moment at the thought but he was brought back to the moment when the she-cat asked about how he was. The tom's gaze darted to his shoulder and immediately his ears fell. What an ugly and constant reminder this was. Regardless, time was healing the wounds, making it easier to move, even if the things that knotted in his chest had yet to subside.

"I'm doing alright... much better than before." He forced a smile and weak laughter in response. A vague memory of being carried from the wreckage that was Skyclan territory. Smokefeather had been there, most of his clanmate knew of the horrible afflictions across his pelt, and the tom that had caused them. Wrenspring shook his head. That was the past. Even if it still impacted his step, those were wounds that could heal. The memory of Mistrain, Murkpelt, their clanmates who were lost, drug him from any possibility of self-pity. His kin and clan suffered from the last and as Smokefeather smoke, he began to realize just how heavy the burden was they bore. A sympathetic look crossed his features as he studied her face and drank in the pained undertones of her voice.

Wrenspring wished he could bring comfort but wasn't sure how and drew closer as he settled back on his haunches. It provided some relief from the pressure of his shoulder but the warrior thought little of it. There was a pause, and the softest whisper of low river behind them, before he spoke, "I wish I could have done anything to help. But I can't do much but thinking about what I could have done differently." He drew in a long sigh before glancing up at the trees behind her. The thought of Wolfcall and Blossomstep caused his tail to flick. He couldn't yet understand what it was like to have a family his own, let alone related to the loss. But he nodded, "I can't understand what it's like to have your own kits, it must be a lot to lose one." The solemnness to his voice was obvious. He let the silence stretch comfortably between them. Despite the heaviness of their discussion, the gray and white tom found relief in the shared moment, and something akin to peace.

"If only..." She sighed quietly, "You're right though, dwelling on the past won't change things. Much as I wish it would." Smokefeather added the last bit wryly. Talking about it did little to ease the pain, and Smokefeather was sure they'd make themselves insane if they kept on with it.

"Kits will make you lose your mind. I'm so grateful mine are all apprentices." Smokefeather's whiskers twitched, a smile playing at the edge of her mouth. What she said was true enough, her four kits had all been lively and healthy. And a pawful. Some of them were still a pawful. But Smokefeather loved them all and would give her life for any of theirs in a heartbeat. Losing one would wreck her, that much was certain. Yet Wolfcall hadn't lost just his beloved daughter, but also his mother. She couldn't imagine the pain he and Blossomstep were in now.

The flickering of his crooked tail continued as he listened to her voice that stirred the breeze and soft chattering of background noise around them. It would have been so easy to slip away into those sounds, let him pretend to forget the problems that prickled at his pelt like thorns. A moment like this wouldn't soon be forgotten. Wrenspring kneaded the ground and vowed to tuck this away. So many of the soured moments of his life were easy to remember. But there had to be something more, perhaps simply reveling in the presence of a clanmate was enough to make the horizon a tad brighter.

Nodding ever so slightly, the tom found himself half catching the words as their conversation drifted away from the more serious tone of a moment prior. His whiskers even twitched at the way she mentioned her kits driving her crazy. For a fleeting second he wondered if it was the fact that her kits were fathered by Bloodstrike that helped to make them a pawful. Green eyes blinked as those thoughts turned to wondering what it would be like to have a family all his own. He'd never thought of any cat like Smokefeather thought of her mate, perhaps beyond a distant and ignorant affection for Honeysong. Ears heated for a moment at the idea. Then, something flitted through his head, the idea of kits growing up in this fractured environment and clan.

"Do you think our clan's going to be okay?" Wrenspring heard himself ask absentmindedly. A low sigh left the sides of his maw as his teeth clenched together. The pair was standing in Riverclan territory, the scent of water in the air was abnormal. A warrior, perhaps more than one, placed the blame of a death on their leader. Every cat was wrestling with the trauma of the fire that had driven them from home. These burdens were too much for anyone to carry on their own shoulders. It was enough to drive any cat mad; maybe it was things like these that had eventually weighed Redfall's claws into his flesh. His fur stood on edge along his spine. He shook his head, "Ah, sorry, Smokefeather. This is supposed to be a hunt not sharing tongues."

"I hope so... Between everything that's happened recently, it's no wonder everyone is on edge. I think we're all wishing for some sort of normalcy at the moment." Smokefeather sighed quietly.

Her whiskers twitched in amusement at his next words, though the she-cat did duck her head slightly in embarrassment. Usually it was her that would break up the chatter and push to finish hunting, ever the impatient one with standing around idle. Strangely, Smokefeather hadn't felt the need to interrupt their conversation. As much as hunting was a priority, it had felt nice to just talk with a clanmate, without needing to worry about something else or scold her apprentice-aged kits for fighting among themselves.

Wrenspring was right, however. This was indeed supposed to be a hunting patrol.

"Let's get back to hunting, then. No twoleg noise to hinder us, at least." She mewed, turning once more to the trees in search of prey.

The quiet sigh that comprised her response was less than reassuring. A flicker of his ear was the only indication that the warrior had heard her at all. Those few passing moments, voices drifting over the breeze, had been a reassurance and a blessing to the tom. He'd spent so long doing little more than bringing about idle chatter when speaking with clanmates; that had been something come about of his own subconscious design. Wrenspring stood onto all four paws, subconsciously favoring where his injuries had been the worst as he briefly stretched. Out of the corner of his eye, the gray and white tom flicked his formerly fractured tail, and offered his denmate a genuine smile.

What a strange and foreign sensation the genuine connection was.

He blinked and shook his head once more. Smokefeather was right, it was hunting time now. Turning, the warrior sought out any piece of prey nearby. This was no time for being picky, even if it meant taking up a meal that Skyclan cats didn't usually favor. Besides, as his patrol mate had mentioned, there would be no interrupting noise nor the foul taste of grit with each bite. Across the wind, there was little more than a brief sniff of stale squirrel, coupled with blood. It was quickly deduced that had been Smokefeather's catch. A frown crossed his maw as he limped forward. There was an over-sized rock head, one that would perhaps provide a better view. Maybe with some like he could use it to propel himself up the tree next to it. What a tempting idea it was, to commune among the trees once more.

Wrenspring found himself struggling to even overcome this smaller obstacle. When upon the top, he settled onto his haunches for a moment, with a mildly defeated sigh. The sun's rays over the horizon brought a semblance of hope, something he hoped his companion felt as well. A little more healing from the medicine cats and a bit of time, then he would be back above the world like before. Skyclan would return home too as the charred forest gave way to vibrant colors once more. He blinked, a dreamy smile across his features once again. But it was cut short by the look of surprise that overcame him as he fell to the side, stumbling to find his footing. This rock was moving!

"Smokefeather!" He called out as he tumbled to the side. There was a flash at the side of the rock, followed by stunning pain. Thankfully, he wasn't a stranger to such sensation, yet it still drew a yowl from his maw. The forepaw, which happened to be the same as his injured shoulder, weakly shook in a protest to the thing that had engulfed his paw. Wrenspring stumbled about awkwardly, battering the creature with an unsheathed forepaw as he struggled to maintain balance on his hindlegs. Fear flashed through his eyes. Whatever this was, it didn't exist in the trees nor on the rocks of his home territory. At some point he found himself swallowing, and considering how nice and easy it would have been to die at Redfall's paw.

A wild Turtle appeared!

Turtle used Gripping Bite, dealing 10 damage to Wrenspring and using 30 stamina.

Turtle
HP: 150/150
SP: 420/450 (-30)

Wrenspring
HP: 50/60
SP: 200/200

---

Wrenspring used Rear-Up to Slash on Turtle, dealing 13 damage on Turtle and using 15 stamina.

Wrenspring
HP: 50/60
SP: 185/200

Turtle
HP: 137/150
SP: 420/450

Smokefeather vaguely registered Wrenspring pulling himself on top of a rock, the tom probably looking to get to one of the beech trees. She'd already turned and was searching for signs of birds in the trees when she heard Wrenspring call her name. Instinctively she whirled in the direction of her clanmate, claws unsheathing at his pained yowl.

What in Starclan is that? Smokefeather thought, eyes wide as the 'rock' shifted. Okay, not a rock, then she realized, ears flattening in anger.

Bounding forward, Smokefeather reared up onto her hind legs with a furious hiss as well. The... thing... had Wrenspring's paw caught in its' mouth, she realized, and Smokefeather very much wanted it to get its filthy jaws away from her clanmate.

Smokefeather used Rear-Up to Slash on Turtle for -15sp, dealing 13 damage.

Smokefeather
60 / 60hp
182 / 200sp (197 - 15)

Wrenspring -gripping bite turn 1-
50 / 60hp
185 / 200sp

Turtle -gripping bite turn 1-
124 / 150hp (137 - 13)
420 / 450sp

Before he could muster another thought, the she-cat had joined the fray. However, the creature didn't release it's iron grip on his paw. He hissed, more out of shock than out of pain. Wrenspring reared again on his shaky balance and struck out at it's neck once again. The warrior's tail lashed anxiously as the adrenaline continue to pound through his veins and he sought a way be free from this entrapment. Wild eyes sought out his clanmate, "What is this thing!?" As he yowled, the bicolored tom writhed furiously, seeking a way to pull free without leaving an appendage behind. It was proving to be a futile feat. Worry clouded his vision. At least it didn't seem to be able to attack Smokefeather while gripping him, one tiny bit of solace for now. The thought kept him pressing forward, wanting to end this battle, even thought there was no way to know how battling this rock would end.

Turtle continued to use Gripping Bite, dealing 10 damage to Wrenspring and using 30 stamina.

Turtle
HP: 150/150
SP: 420/450 (-30)

Wrenspring
HP: 50/60
SP: 200/200

---

Wrenspring used Rear-Up to Slash on Turtle, dealing 13 damage on Turtle and using 15 stamina.

Wrenspring
HP: 40/60
SP: 170/200

Turtle
HP: 111/150
SP: 390/450

Smokefeather
HP: 60/60
SP: 182/200

"I don't know... It's Riverclan territory!" Smokefeather curled her lip in disgust. Riverclan territory was all she needed to know, really. Of course they would have stars-cursed things like this, pretending to be a rock and then attacking the unsuspecting cat. At least twolegplace, while full of danger at every pawstep, didn't have things like this. Stars, even that behemoth of a dog she had fought with Wolfcall, Bloodstrike and the kits had at least been something that could be expected.

The... thing, whatever it was, had a firm grip on Wrenspring's paw. It didn't seem to be able to attack her, so Smokefeather intended on doing as much damage as she could to the creature, continuing to slash furiously at the creature's head as she kept her weight balanced on her hindlegs.

She hadn't dragged a half-dead Wrenspring out of their territory to have him lose a limb to... whatever this thing was. The tom was hurting enough as it was, she could tell, and didn't deserve to have more damage inflicted upon his abused body.

Smokefeather used Rear-Up to Slash on Turtle for -15sp, dealing 13 damage.

Wrenspring -gripping bite turn 2-
40 / 60 hp
170 / 200 sp

Turtle -gripping bite turn 2-
98 / 150 hp (111 - 13)
390 / 450 sp

Smokefeather
60 / 60 hp
167 / 200 sp (182 - 15)