Seething [Iniko]

"Mom, you're--" Beechface managed after a moment, eyes wide.

"Yes." Smokefeather gritted out, the single-word response clipped with anger and worry, the same emotions reflected on her face. Her brow was furrowed, silver and black tail flicking back and forth in agitation. It didn't take a genius to figure out where the queen's thoughts were. She'd never be angry about kits, Beechface knew. But the injuries her mate had sustained when the rogues took over their camp, and them dragging him off to who-knew-where to 'recover' was weighing on both of their minds. Bloodstrike would have been the first one Smokefeather would have gone to with the news in excitement.

"Have the rogues told you anything at all about Blloodstrike? Or--?" Smokefeather leapt to her paws, pacing across the den, then back. Telling her to sit would be useless.

"They've said nothing. All we know is that he's being healed." Beechface grimaced, knowing that this wasn't the answer her mother should have to hear. It wasn't the answer she wanted to tell her, either.

"Supposedly." Smokefeather sneered, continuing to pace back and forth, plumed tail whipping behind her in frustration. Beechface sighed, unsure of what she could say. She agreed with her mother and was furious, herself. Beneath the fury lay fear and worry for Bloodstrike, rage at Dawnhawk. Nothing she could say would soothe her anxieties unless she lied. And Beechface wouldn't do that to her.

"I know, I don't trust their word at all. I wish..." Beechface trailed off at the sound of pawsteps at the den entrance, head whipping around to face whoever was intruding.

One of the rogues, she realized. The one that had spoken for them during the takeover. Beechface curled her lip, stepping protectively in front of her mother. She forced her claws back into their sheathes and her fur to flatten, but it took effort. Stubborn and pigheaded Beechface was, but jumping at the cat with claws unsheathed would not help the situation.

"Come to gloat about our missing deputy and the stress you've caused everyone?" She had aimed for a neutral greeting, and failed spectacularly. Bitter ire laced her tone as she glared at the mottled tom in front of her, not at all happy with his presence in her den.

Smokefeather said nothing, expression glacial as she stared accusingly at the rogue. As far as she was concerned, he didn't deserve the respect of being acknowledged, but she wouldn't take her eyes off of a possible threat.

The pair of she-cat displayed utter disgust towards his arrival. Inik would not have expected anything less. Skyclan had taken their defeat in the least graceful manner, second to only Windclan, as he had heard. Regardless of their predispositions towards him, the calico tom carried about in his usual manner. Dipping his head briefly before lifting his gaze to evenly meet Beechface's, the tom's whiskers twitched ever so slightly at the manner in which she regarded him. In Asylum, it wasn't standard for healers to be kind or weak-willed in any sense; Standards were so vast in their personalities. It was almost refreshing to feel the lash of a tongue scathing his pelt.

Long ago their disdain might have caused his chest to twist with sympathy. The captain was calloused to such things, and while his did still recognize the sense of loss and pain, duty seemed to dampen such things. Often it took time for cats to truly find their way in Asylum and he knew that now. Young cats during their first takeover still wrestled with the churning sensation prickling at their fur; Iniko was certainly too old for such things. This was what had rendered the rhythmic flickering of his tail to be so mild and unchanged despite the clear lack of a welcome. When the silken words were finally drawn from his chest, they were accompanied by the mild twist of his head, "No such thing. I merely come as a fellow healer."

He wasn't sure how much they had taken the time to drink in the culture of Asylum. According to forest tradition, it was unusual to have cats skilled in both medicine and battle skills. Given his own occupation and travels, the captain wasn't sure how any cat could operate under such restraints. Perhaps it was the contained lifestyle that had allowed them to find themselves restricted on many levels. Infighting among the clans was peculiar to him in the sense that while this forest was lush and bountiful in most season, and when not touched by the condemning kiss of fire, it was merely one small part of the greater world. Although, Asylum had always been rather ambitious and saw things on a much grander scale than most. House cats never saw beyond their own nest; in a similar manner, cats were generally at the disposal of whichever life they had been born into.

"You're not a healer too, are you?" He tipped his head in the direction of Smokefeather. Skyclan had been said to have only one skilled in medicine, at least now.

The question of Smokefeather being a healer wasn't all that surprising coming from an outsider, Beechface had decided. When she wasn't spitting mad, the pale tortoiseshell was cheery and warm, and for a seasoned warrior her pelt lacked the amount of scars her own did. Where Smokefeather was pretty and graceful, even delicate (when standing next to the medicine cat, at least), Beechface was brawny and rough. She certainly didn't look the part of friendly and welcoming medicine cat, even on a good day. Long fur went a long way in hiding the scars across her chest, flanks and back, but they were still there, noticeable in the way the fur was parted around them despite her own efforts.

"No, just a queen, wishing my mate was by my side so we could watch our grown kits become warriors and raise our own family." Smokefeather responded, "Instead I'm left wondering where he is and if he's truly being allowed to recover as you and yours claim." Her tone was acidic and startlingly bitter as she glared up at the calico tom. Even Beechface had never heard her mother take such a tone before, yellow-green eyes widening a fraction in visible shock.

"You're a... healer?" Beechface asked, more curious than she would like to admit. Still, she kept the clearly-protective stance in front of her mother. Healers could be just as capable of violence as any warrior, even if the clans discouraged such. She still found Mossbloom's talk fascinating even as it was difficult to swallow all the information from it. But if this stranger was a healer... Maybe he knew something of where her father was.

"Would it be so terrible to be given information on our missing deputy? It would put some minds at ease. There was no hiding the state he was in after..." Of course, it could just as easily lead to the angered she-cat behind her deciding to smack the rogue, but Beechface was more confident in her mother's ability to listen to reason. Beechface's voice had lost the edge of hostility for the moment, she had to at least make an effort for the clan, and her family.

Genuine sympathy lined the tom's gaze. Smokefeather's venomous words and bitter tone were to be expected. As much as he had taken to studying the intricacies of each clan, this was one of the moments that made it painfully clear that his paws tread mostly on Shadowclan territory. It seemed he knew little of Dawnhawk's mother. Given what little he knew of her son, the tom questioned for a moment how truly she was devoted to the tender raising of her kits. But it wasn't his place to speak on such manners. The tom's tail flickered in it's usual, mild manner. The fact of the matter with these clan cats was that no amount of honeyed words would soothe their churning souls. Regardless, there was no reason for his own maw to drip with equal measures of disdain.

"And I wish he was too." Iniko meowed with a low sigh, "I'd rather your kits live in a world with less bloodshed. As soon as I'm sure your mate can provide, then he will return." The speech was perhaps a bit more blunt than he intended, muffled only slightly by the exhausted exhalation. However, it was this candid manner that made his honestly far more intentional. Green eyes flickered to Beechface as he paused. A desire for answers was natural. He had previously spoken to Redfall on the idea that knowledge and freedom was only best shared under the right conditions. That belief held true. Yet he relented slightly as he noticed the she-cat's interest in his affairs as a healer. The addition was shrouded in the secrecy but more than he might have previously shared, "He's alive. I'll check on him personally if it helps provide some peace. Admittedly my paws have been busy in Shadowclan."

Noting the protective position of mother and daughter, the calico drew back a pace before settling back on his haunches and allowing his flowy tail to rest across the dirt behind him. There was plenty of room, as he had settled near the edges of the entrance, should either cat decide to leave. He had a feeling that the medicine cat wouldn't but her elder seemed much less inclined to entertain the presence of an Asylum cat. After an attempt at putting to rest the conversation of Bloodstrike, Iniko let a hint of a smile come to his maw. Healing was an art that certainly was never forgotten, even during the hours in which he sharpened his claws for battle. The duality of Standards has always amused him and perhaps it was why he had grown into the faction so easily and eventually become their captain, "I'm a healer as much as I am a fighter. It's a common practice for all Standards. I'm assuming you don't know much of our factions?"

"You invade our camp, put claws and fangs to everyone's throats while we slept, and expect there to be peace? You threaten the lives of every one of us, and expect him to not fight back in self-defense? You and your rogues are the only ones here who have caused any bloodshed." Smokefeather curled her lip in disgust.

"Do that." Smokefeather bit out harshly, stalking past Beechface towards the den entrance. A frigid stare was levelled at the Asylum standard, before Smokefeather continued and made her way out of the den.

"My mother and siblings are right to be furious with you. I would kill to get our deputy back alive and healthy, as would the rest of the clan." A pity their numbers were so great, Beechface's claws itched for their blood.

"I trained as a warrior before being chosen for this. I... Wasn't thrilled, I wanted to follow in my father's pawsteps." Beechface eyed the tom thoughtfully. She very much wanted to rip his ears off, but... StarClan forgive us tom had piqued her curiosity. "Still, I threw myself into these duties because I had no other choice. If I'm not allowed to hunt and fight, I might as well heal their wounds as best I can." Beechface had mostly gotten over her resentment, if not her desire for bloodshed. Her words about throwing herself into the role she'd been forced into were true enough, however.

There were no words to say, no reasoning with a cat whose mind was so busied with disdain to see the practicality of their decisions; Iniko settled with saying nothing. As Smokefeather sought her retreat, the tom merely offered a nod of farewell. Such bitter confrontation was something he'd grown numb to over the moons, even if he still sympathized with the intent behind it. Perhaps, in due time, the she-cat would understand the security Asylum brought to this forest. Not only would their kits thrive and survive throughout leaf-bare but further more as they slowly joined the ranks, they would be afforded the opportunity to travel many lands and see places the clan cats never could have dreamed of. But these were thoughts for another day.

Now he and Beechface were left just the pair of them. Her sentiment caused his whiskers to twitch but more out of interest than anything else. Perhaps this was a healer whose abilities aligned with that of standards. Iniko sought to dismiss any further talk of Bloodstrike and simply meowed, "I understand." It was accompanied by another dip of his head. Sincerity was a stranger and invader was difficult to digest, hopefully she understood the nature of his words; if she did not, there was nothing further he could do than impress it in small bits. Slowly, they would work their way into a mutual agreement.

"Hm." Iniko hummed softly as he contemplated her words and the story of her journey to healing. As much as he enjoyed it, honeyed words would mean nothing to the she-cat, even if they were honest. The tom resigned to his own candid speech, "You would enjoy life as a Standard. It's the faction of Asylum I lead. Cats learn to sharpen their claws and studied fighting techniques from all lands... as well as medicine. There are unique herbs and flower in places beyond here, things clan cats could never discover. We value both arts equally. If your mind is not as sharp as your claws, then what threat could any cat possible pose?" He studied her features, seeking a reaction. In some cats, curiosity outweighed loyalty, in others they were merely drawn to the familiar.

He looked forward to finding out what kind of cat Beechface was.

Beechface listened to the tom speak, expression stony. Standards, is that what the group was called? She'd seen enough of the rogues around to understand that they had some sort of ranking system, though it was clearly quite different than that of the clans' own ranks. The tom spoke of being able to both fight and heal, and... it made sense. Her mind flashed back to that day in Riverclan, the group of apprentices that had wanted to go looking for a turtle. One of them had been scornful, claiming that Beechface was just a medicine cat apprentice and had no place running with the others. The words had cut deep enough to hit bone, then. Beechface had trained as a warrior first, she had claws, just like any other cat. So why shouldn't she be able to use them?

The medicine cat couldn't find it within herself to not be suspicious, despite the seemingly genuine nature the tom offered. What if Iniko decided to double-cross her? Would he try and pass off a poison as something helpful? On the other paw, even that sort of knowledge could prove useful in the end, even if only so that Beechface knew what to avoid and who not to trust. Either way the Asylum was here and in firm control over Skyclan, whether she liked it or not.

"I... Would learn your methods of healing. As unhappy as I might be with the current... circumstances, I would not pass up an opportunity to possibly help my own clanmates in the future." Beechface spoke the words slowly, grudgingly. She was curious about their combat methods as well, but she didn't trust the calico tom to not pull something shady. Learning whatever methods these Asylum cats had for healing could prove to be useful, at the very least.

"Then I'd be more than happy to teach you. Your ability benefits everyone. Your clanmates, the cats of Asylum, and cats far beyond. Such skills should be put to good use." Iniko meowed matter-of-factly but there was a glint to his gaze. Molded properly the she-cat could make a good addition to the Standards, alongside Rookpaw. He considered pressing further into the lifestyle of Asylum and the enticing experiences offered to all cats but this was not the moment to do so. Reservation and suspicion was obvious in the other cat's words. For another time. But there was another factor he figured she might find interesting.

Rising to his paws, the Captain stretched with a low sigh, feathery tail flicking as if on an invisible beat. Eyes cast a glance around the den and in the direction of herbs. Iniko only took a step forward, not wanting to be intrusive, but began to size up the stash of dried plants and note them mentally. As he did, he continued the conversation with Beechface casually, "I'm training a Shadowclan medicine cat. Their previous one abandoned the clan. I'd liked to learn all of the plants of this forest so they might be put to good use for all of the clans. It would help in training up Rookpaw as well. He's young and determined, a quick learner."

Beechface merely inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement of Iniko's words. The prospect of learning something new was not an unwelcome one, though she still remained wary of Asylum and their goals.

"Cinderpaw abandoned Shadowclan?" Beechface couldn't quite keep the surprise out of her voice at the news. "We trained together for a time under Thunderclan's medicine cat, Mossbloom. We weren't close but... I am surprised." Cinderpaw had been awkward, and she and Beechface hadn't quite hit it off despite their similarities. The Shadowclanner had only had to stumble over her words once for Beechface, -paw at the time, to snap at her in anger. Another chance to repair things, gone.

It made her wonder just what was going on in the other clans. They were under Asylum rule just as Skyclan was, but there were no gatherings to learn of their situation, no half-moon meetings to convene with her fellow medicine cats. Was Spiderquill still unaccounted for? Was the sniveling cur of a Windclanner managing okay under Asylum rule? Doubtful, truly. A quiet sigh escaped her, gaze settling on the herb store thoughtfully for a moment.

Yellow-green eyes settled onto Iniko's calico frame once more as Beechface regarded him.

"Under normal circumstances, he would be trained under another medicine cat if he was without a mentor in his own clan. We share herbs with each other, each territory has it's strength and weaknesses as to what grows there. Under current circumstances I'm less inclined to let go of herbs that might be used for my own clanmates, however-" Begrudging, once more filled her tone, "I can tell you what is likeliest to grow where and their uses. You say you come from more distant lands. What herbs are you already familiar with?" Knowing where to start might make things go a bit quicker, and the less she had to explain, the sooner she might be rid of his presence.