boys don't cry [C]

Silverpaw

That stupid rabbit left more of a mark than Silverpaw thought.

He bit back the pain when it happened, too stubborn and frustrated to acknowledge it. Even while following Moondancer back to camp, when the adrenaline of hunting had worn off, he refused to let it show beyond an ugly scowl. By the time they returned, the scratches stopped bleeding– well, spots of blood appeared when his nose wrinkled, but it wasn’t down his face anymore –and he was in too sour of a mood to bother going anywhere but his nest. A quick swipe of his paw cleaned the wound, and that was that.

But a few nights and passed now, and the bridge of his muzzle still hurt. Still bled on occasion too, however weakly. Silverpaw was starting to regret not visiting the medicine den the night of that useless hunt. But the lingering frustration was gone now, and he felt peppy today aside from the irksome pain. With nothing to do for the early evening, he made his way towards the medicine den. Looking at the boulder as he got closer made his chest briefly tighten, made his paws still for an unplaceable reason. Silverpaw’s ear twitched and he paused a tail-length from the den. Well, he didn’t want to intrude, anyway.

“Harriertalon?” Silverpaw called out. He hoped it was her that answered, at least. He hoped either of the medicine cats answered, really, but he preferred if it was her. “Are you busy, if you’re there? I got scratched a few nights ago and it’s bothering me.” It felt bitter, asking for help. But… that’s what Harriertalon was there for. He thought of the little interviews Burdockroot held, and a smile lifted his features. In a way, he was helping her do her job. Thinking of it that way made him feel more sure in his decision, so Silverpaw picked himself up to stand a little taller.

Silverpaw

A sigh from within the den made Silverpaw’s ears prick hopefully, and Harriertalon’s swift appearance after brought a faint smile. She looked irritated for a moment, but it was gone the second she saw him. More tension slipped from him just as she vanished from sight again. No admonishment came at his presence. Harriertalon seemed happy to help. She had meant it, when she said she cared for ShadowClan some odd moons ago. Eased by that, and Silverpaw followed with a quiet nod.

It took a moment of blinking for his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light in the den, and when they had, he found himself just looking around. He hadn’t actually been inside the medicine den yet, despite staring at it often. Green eyes swept over the space, at empty nests set aside for patients set aside, at the herbs stored carefully against the stone, the pile of half-shredded plants near Harriertalon’s paws.

Silverpaw picked his head up to look toward her again, and the strange and sudden memory of Meadowlark came with it. He blinked slowly, staring at her absently before remembering he was here for a reason. Weird. Maybe it was just the association with herbs and death that brought the thought on. Either way, he shook his head–only wincing a little over the dull pain at his muzzle–to clear any thoughts of the past and refocus on the present.

“Thank you,” he mewed first, nodding respectfully. “I’m sure its not that worrying, so thanks for taking the time! Its just… annoying. It hurts.” Silverpaw muttered the last words. The scores just above his nose were reddened, irritated from lack of care. Paws shifting, he chattered on, “What do you do for, like, scratches, anyway? …Cobwebs, right? I’m sure I’ll be fine as long as it keeps from bleeding again. Won’t even hurt if I can’t see it, right?”

Silverpaw

Silverpaw couldn’t help but return the medicine cat’s smile, more earnestly now. She gathered what she needed quickly, explaining what she was using and why around her mouthful of bark. Silverpaw’s ear flicked when she spat it out, a quick display of the reflexive distaste, but he didn’t recoil at it, and he sat still as asked when Harriertalon reached a paw to smear the poultice and its adhesive across his face. It made his nose feel wet and strange. He wanted to shake his head as soon as she pulled away, but he settled for wrinkling his nose a few times to try and adjust to the feeling.

After a few moments of contorting his expression, Silverpaw gave himself a little shake and purred, “Thanks, Harriertalon! I appreciate it.” His tail swept side-to-side across the den floor, and he stopped crossing his eyes to stare at the mess on his nose to focus on Harriertalon. “It’s been great, so far! I am learning lots. I could probably get around all of ShadowClan by myself by now. Maybe not the Deep Marshes… but I’ll get there. And I’m really good at fighting, too. Sparring is really, really fun, and I fought a fox already!”

He was sitting perfectly straight now, shoulders squared and chest puffed out slightly. “Everyone’s alright, too. …mostly. Moondancer is…” Silverpaw hesitated. Weren’t they sisters? It probably wouldn’t do well to talk too badly about her then, but he felt irritated again just thinking about her. He thought for a moment, then slowly went on, “Moondancer hasn’t been very nice, but I’ve really only talked to her once, when we went hunting a few nights ago. I couldn’t catch a thing, which— bad luck, or whatever… but she just stood there and sneered at me the whole time!”

He huffed, and huffed one more time before taking a more measured breath. Silverpaw made an effort to sound understanding, but an undercurrent of bitterness was still clear. “I mean… I’m sure she’s not that bad. Maybe it’s just me she doesn’t like. Oh- that’s when I got this, actually. I tried to go after a rabbit ‘cause she caught one. Not like I needed to be hurt by a rabbit of all things when I was already failing, but… whatever. She won’t be better than me forever. Everyone else is nice, and I'm not that hurt, and Honeylight says I'm fine at hunting, so I'm not too upset about it, I guess.”