A Hairy Encounter [Rookpaw]

Mistyfalcon entered the camp with a grunt, dropping the large hare onto the fresh-kill pile. The Asylum cat trailing him deposited the rest of the prey he had caught before turning and slinking away from the Shadowclanner, and Mistyfalcon was relieved to be rid of both the rogue and the weight of the hare. He was still slightly out of breath from when he'd caught it, a sharp pain where the stars-cursed thing had caught him with one of those powerful hind paws. Hares, it turned out, were strong. He'd never been kicked that hard by one before.

After dropping the prey on the fresh-kill pile, Mistyfalcon had every intention of turning towards his nest for the day. The first rays of the sun were just visible over the tree tops, and Mistyfalcon was not one for being awake once it had fully risen.

"You can't be serious." Mistyfalcon sighed at the slightly condescending voice, head turning to eye the silver and white she-cat who sat just outside the warriors' den.

"What?" His sister had a way of being overdramatic that Mistyfalcon didn't appreciate. He loved his sister, but she was a pain in the tail.

"Have you looked at your side recently? The fur's more red than gray. Mousebrain, go get that looked at before you bleed out or catch an infection." Galefrost snorted, blue eyes narrowed. For all that his sister annoyed him, she almost sounded concerned. And... She was right. Mistyfalcon hadn't realized that the scratches the hare had given him were still bleeding. He rolled his eyes, though he was grateful that his sister had pointed it out.

"...Right I'm... Going to go." He muttered. How had he not realized sooner? Well, at least Murkystrike hadn't caught him like this... He wasn't sure why but the thought of that made an uncomfortable sensation of heat prickle beneath his pelt. In the back of his mind, he knew perfectly well what that feeling was, but Mistyfalcon was determined to ignore it. He wasn't ready to handle that thought. Not yet, anyways.

Turning, Mistyfalcon made his way towards the medicine den, gray tail flicking.

"Hey Rookpaw," Mistyfalcon called into the den almost sheepishly. "Turns out hares aren't fans of being caught. I uh... Might need your help." He added, stepping farther into the den, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at the gashes in his side.

Rookpaw had been residing in the medicine den for a while. He liked talking to his clanmates while healing them. When his buddy Mistyfalcon came into the medicine den, Rookpaw grinned. "Hey, Misty! You need me to check on something?" he said, turning to the gash on the warrior's pelt. "Yeesh... that's bad. Nothing I can't fix, though." Grabbing some cobwebs, the black tuxedo patched up the gashes on his friend's side. "It may sting for a little while, but you should be better in no time." The medicine cat apprentice smiled warmly at Mistyfalcon. "You said that you caught a hare? Did I hear ya correctly? That's pretty impressive! Can you tell me about it?"

Rookpaw used Minor Heal on Mistyfalcon, healing 3 HP and costing 10 stamina.

"It's on the fresh-kill pile." Mistyfalcon might have been just a little bit smug about it. It was true, they weren't Windclan, but he'd managed it more than a few times now.

"They're quick, and stronger than I would've ever given them credit for. I didn't quite manage to avoid getting kicked this time. Didn't realize I was bleeding until Galefrost decided to tell me." The last was said with a slight grimace. He expected that sort of protectiveness from Ebonysong and Brighteye, and Cinderpaw would've boxed his ears if she caught him nursing an injury without having gone to her. Rookpaw seemed far less tyrannical, in contrast, but no less dedicated it seemed. Forcing himself to stay still as the medicine cat tended to the wound was still bothersome, though Mistyfalcon tried not to show it.

"Of course, the unwelcome tagalong was no help at all. Could hardly be bothered to carry the rest of the prey I'd caught back to camp without me prodding." He couldn't stop himself from adding the last, disgruntled. As time wore on, he was less inclined to be friendly to the rogues while they sit back and watched as he and his clanmates busted their tails hunting and defending themselves against predators. As time wore on, Mistyfalcon was less inclined to curb his tongue either, it would seem.

Rookpaw could sense the confidence oozing from Mistyfalcon. He didn't mind. After all, the tom earned the opportunity to be smug about catching a hare, and he was staying still enough for Rookpaw to put the cobwebs on his wound. I mean, I can't exactly match him at his skill at hunting, and it's obvious that he's good at catching hares. He might even be matching WindClan in that area. Of course, he had no idea if that was true, since all he knew of WindClan were myths and stories told by queens and elders. As the ShadowClan warrior began talking about how Asylum's assigned guard didn't do anything in the patrol, the medicine cat apprentice nodded.

"I guess that makes sense," he said, turning his gaze to the medicine den. "That's one of the problems I've had with Asylum. They don't normally carry their weight. With Iniko's death, a couple of them helped out, but when it came down to us, none of them batted an eye." The black tuxedo shifted his weight, a frown on his face. It wasn't something he thought of often, but when he did, it bugged him.

"Honestly, I'd say that we do a lot for you guys."

The black tuxedo turned towards the voice, a ginger tom. With the scars on his left shoulder, the black tuxedo immediately recognized that as the mark of an Asylum Scout. And if he knew his Asylum cats correct, this ginger tom here had to be Spark. "All I'm saying is that you and the rest of Asylum just watch us and do basically nothing, while ShadowClan does most of the dirty work. It's constructive criticism, to make you guys better," the medicine cat apprentice said, staring at Spark. "Now if you don't have a glaring need for the medicine den, could you please move out of the way and not obstruct it?"

The ginger tom rolled his eyes, but did oblige in leaving. Thank the stars. Turning back to Mistyfalcon, the black tuxedo nodded at his friend. "I guess I couldn't help but tell Spark off. He did seem to be near the medicine den just to listen to our conversations, though." He didn't like how Spark just... listened to others' conversations for no good reason except to leak secrets. He was the epitome of what ShadowClan feared in the Asylum. "Cats like him... they bug me. Always listening and listening, waiting for a cat to say one wrong thing out of place and report it. They're cowards for doing that."

Mistyfalcon curled his lip at the ginger Asylum tom who had approached to offer his own words, tattered ears twitching back slightly in disapproval. OF course the rogue would defend his own, but the conversation hadn't involved him and Mistyfalcon was just fine with Rookpaw telling the rogue off.

"You're not wrong." Mistyfalcon agreed, "But listening in on conversations that don't involve them seem to be what they do best. Second only to overcrowding the camp." Mistyfalcon found that he really didn't care if the retreating rogue heard him. It was the truth, and it needed to be said.

"I've seen one of the newcomers... Ivory? Or something, pulling her weight, and that's about it." A pity she was born of Asylum, really. She seemed quite enthusiastic about clan life, and so far had been the only one Mistyfalcon had met that actually helped with hunting. That made him only slightly more agreeable towards her, but at the end of a day she was a rogue like any other.

Rookpaw listened to his clanmate speak about the Asylum. He liked his new friend's bravery in speaking about the Asylum's easy-to-spot flaws. With the mention on only Ivory helping out, Rookpaw nodded. "Iniko also helped when he was alive," he said. "But besides him, the only cat I've ever seen help us was Ivory, so I do agree with your assessment." The black tuxedo stared into the distance, noticing the hare on ShadowClan's fresh-kill pile. So he wasn't lying when he said he caught a hare... Not that I thought he ever was.

Trying to pull the conversation away from talking about Asylum, Rookpaw spoke once more, this time praising Ivory. "I remember when Ivory helped Freckleface when she was hurt," he said. "That was the moment when she earned my respect." Really, she shared similar values to him when it came to reacting to Iniko's death: respect his memory by finishing what he started. By risking - no, giving up - his life for Freckleface's, the least any reasonable cat could do is finish the job and rescue the she-cat from succumbing to a cold, frosty death.