— those who wait [Glitch, open]

blackclaw

MORE AND MORE PEOPLE I KNOW ARE GETTING ILL. PULL SOMETHING GOOD FROM THE ASHES NOW BE STILL.

There was a breath of fresh air moving through the camp: he could feel it ruffling his whispers, laughing quietly in his ears. It made him want to sing, and skip, and dance. One of his favourite stories had been about a warrior of old who had been called by the voices of StarClan on the wind to bring song to his clan. No-one remembered how to sing any more, but the idea of being able to open your mouth and release a sound like birds calling, seemed wonderful. The warrior glanced at the freshkill pile, but turned his gaze away sharply. No breakfast until the elders were happy and comfortable.

He glanced at the den, the old jagged-roofed tree stump under whose gnarled roots the old warriors of ThunderClan rested. Maybe it was his mentor's morning ritual, but the elders' den had never seemed like a bad place. It was spacious and dry, as long as all the leaks were plugged, and the only wind that could blow in had already tired itself out trying to blow down a winding passageway. A little light got in through the holes between the roots. Littlefire had shown him the way to claw out around the holes holes so that rain streamed off the lip above them and around the bottom, so as long as there was sunlight, the elders would have light and clean air.

But all this lollygagging was getting the tom nowhere: the elders' den was beautiful, but he could get a head start on cleaning it if he hurried. The tom started down the passage and called out a cheerful, "Good morning!" but stopped as he noticed the state of the passage. Carefully, he scraped any trace of snow or frost out of the tunnel as he went. He did wonder if Littlefire was already inside, but surely she wasn't that early.

OOC: Sorry, just a short opening post for you, Glitch!

The soft breeze ruffled the she-cat's golden fur. It brought with it the chill of leaf-bare, but not the typically associated sorrow. Leaf-bare had been kind to Thunder Clan so far. Sickness seemed at bay, and the fresh-kill pile had not dropped below an acceptable size. Of course, Leaf-bare was still in it's early stages, and could take a turn for the worse at any moment. She inhaled the crisp breeze deeply, her paws crunching on the frost covered ground as she pushed her way through the thorn tunnel into the camp. Littlefire took her job as deputy very, very seriously, but waking up before dawn each morning to take a moment to herself outside the camp, was as much as a ritual as cleaning out the elder's den with Blackclaw.

Coming out into the camp, a pawful of warriors were starting to wake up and move around, enabling her to quickly fire off a few names, hitching out a dawn patrol in just a few heartbeats. She stood, watching the tired, half-asleep warriors trod one by one out of the camp, paws dragging in the frost. It elicited a chuckle from her, the warriors acting like spoiled kits who didn't get to sleep in. Her next stop was her other daily routine, moving swiftly to the elder's den, nestled under an old, gnarled set of roots, and reinforced with other various plant matter, making it warm, always out of the elements, and quite beautiful. Her tiny, almost young-apprentice, almost kit sized form moved effortlessly through the long entrance barely even brushing the sides with her fur, soundlessly entering. Between the cleared away frost, and his scent heavy inside, she was pleased to realize Blackclaw had beaten her to their daily routine.

"Someone's early. Good morning, dear."She purred as she approached her old apprentice. All grown up, he was now double her size, and towered over the petite she-cat. Affectionately, she brushed his side with her tail as she passed, moving over to where Half-Ear and Fernsong laid side by side, grooming each other. They stopped as she approached, greeting their adopted daughter warmly as she sat before them, nuzzling and greeting both of them in turn, speaking for a few moments, before turning and beginning to use her claws to ball up the old bedding, forming the pile off to the side. After a few moments of getting into the rhythm of her work, she glanced over at the large black tom.

"The weather is lovely today- although the cold chill in the air, and some dark clouds to the east seem to be threatening bringing us some snow. We should focus on sealing up any gaps in this den today."

blackclaw

MORE AND MORE PEOPLE I KNOW ARE GETTING ILL. PULL SOMETHING GOOD FROM THE ASHES NOW BE STILL.

A familiar scent made Blackclaw stop in his work, then smile. Turning around in the confined space of the entrance tunnel wasn't exactly an option, but he looked back at his old mentor and, innocent as you please, replied, "'Morning, Liffletire!" with a decidedly cheeky grin. The large tom shuffled sideways a little to give Littlefire more room to pass. Well, now the cleaning could begin in earnest! There were nests to clear, elders to check for fleas and ticks, and water and fresh-kill to bring in. The defleaing was a never-ending task, but with Littlefire's attentions every day since he'd started his apprenticeship, they were almost never as bad they had been. The tom chuckled at the memory of his first day: only six moons old, up at the crack of dawn, thrown into the elders' den without any understanding of what a flea was, let alone how to deal with them. How young! How innocent! These days, it was a crying shame if he couldn't see an elder clean in fifteen seconds flat: that was what practice and training could do for you. Maybe that was what they should teach instead of all that hunting nonsense: the proper defleaing technique. Certainly, if he were leader, he'd see if it could be added to the warrior code. 'All warriors must be proficient in catching and killing parasites.' Blackclaw grinned to himself and mentally shook his head. Yep. Fleas. Definitely more useful than hunting.

The dark-furred warrior heard voices and glanced up to see Littlefire greeting her parents. An uncomfortable knot twisted in his gut. His own parents were in the warriors den still, and still moons from becoming elders, but some mornings (and he hated those mornings, and himself for thinking these things) he wished his parents would retire. It was always chancing fate, sleeping in the same den as them-- was today the day he'd bump into Oakfang and be treated to another of his father's legendary stares of disapproval? Would he have to make small-talk with Juniperleaf? His routine with Littlefire meant that he usually got out of seeing them every morning, but the rest of the day was as dangerous as walking through a fox nest with your eyes shut. He -the tom took a slow breath- he didn't hate his parents: he just preferred not to talk to them. That wasn't so unusual, was it? The guilt broke over him like a storm, but he breathed out slowly, reordered his mind, and pushed the clouds away.

While his mind had been nattering away, his paws had been busy finishing up with the slurry in the passage. He scooped up a few pawfuls of dry earth from under a bush outside and scattered those over the floor, then patted it all down. It wasn't perfect, but it would do. And with cats coming and going, hopefully they'd compact everything neatly rather than bring in more frosty sludge. He hoped, but he wouldn't bet on it.
Littlefire had already gotten set on the bedding when he came back, working with a purposefully methodical air. Well, that was Littlefire: methodical, efficient, and always on task. He used to worry about living up to her, and still did, but Blackclaw was at least good at elders (if 'elders' was a thing that you could be good at) and it was usually things that required actual skill that made him nervous-- not that he would ever say so. He entered cautiously, as he always did -being bigger than average, it was a challenge to find a way to fit in properly- but his usual smile was back and glimmering around the corners of his mouth. He greeted the nearby elders respectfully, but invariably with warmth: these were the cats who'd survived gruelling moons of hunting and fighting and come out of it alive, and usually with a stockpile of brilliant stories, and Blackclaw loved to listen. He got stuck in quickly, using his claws to shred the bedding a little so it would stick and then mashing it all together.

"The weather is lovely today- although the cold chill in the air, and some dark clouds to the east seem to be threatening bringing us some snow. We should focus on sealing up any gaps in this den today."
Blackclaw nodded his agreement, and tried to top his fur fluffing up at the mention of snow. He knew he had it better than most, with his thick coat, but that didn't mean he enjoyed the cold. Also, snow sucked for hunting: if it was deep, it was impossible to avoid leaving your scent everywhere, and even if it wasn't, your paws still got frozen from holding them still in slush for minutes at a time. He didn't even know how Littlefire managed if it got too deep, and tried to stop a snort of laughter. Focus, Blackclaw! Do not imagine your respected deputy having to jump through the snow like a kitten! Do not imagine her with a snow hat! Stop it at once!

With difficulty, the tom tried to pull himself together. Littlefire was right, of course: he'd not been looking at the sky, but this was leafbare after all, and ThunderClan camp wasn't as close to the coast as some of the other cats. Snow was definitely a possibility. And how appropriate that sky would be. "Dark clouds over ThunderClan-- what a surprise!" the warrior grinned. He pushed his ball of bedding beside Littlefire's neat pile, tried to make his look tidier, and gave up very quickly.
"If I said we should leave some of the air holes open, just cap the top of them off with a roof of sticks, would you call me crazy?" He nodded at the open sections at the back of the den, where the old tree stump leaned over slightly to form a lee.

OOC: Can we offer the thread to Afanc? She's just made an elder yesterday :D

One-eye ~ 70 ~ Tom ~ Elder

He had gone out (no, not sneaking this time) to make dirt outside of the camp.  For once, he'd decided it was both too early and too cold to try to actually sneak out and do anything fun outside.  Besides, it was far less fun being outside if there was no one with him to share his victory.  So instead, he decided to return back to the camp.

He nodded to the warriors and sad apprentice as the left for the dawn patrol.  He remembered those good ole days when he would be up before everyone else, waiting impatiently for his name to be called for that same duty.  No one these days appreciated going out on patrol.  If only Littlefire would still let him gooo!

Despite his constant begging, she never budged.  Although she never specifically said it, One-eye knew that everyone thought he would be nothing but a liability on patrol.  So instead, he slunk back to the Elder's den to find the she-cat and her old apprentice already there.  He made an epic sigh, showing his dis-satisfaction with being stuck here all day.  He knew it would do nothing for his cause, but perhaps it would make her feel bad for keeping him locked up like a prisoner.

He gave Blackclaw a quick wink (is it a wink with only one eye?  A devious blink, perhaps?).  Ironically, he was one of the cats who very often helped him escape.  Of course, the deputy-mentor never knew about it.  Or if she did, she didn't say anything (perhaps she really did feel bad about not letting him patrol!)

He collapsed in a huff into his bed nodding to his denmates.  "Goodmorning you two, good morning my cleaner-uppers."

She paused and chuffed at her apprentice's comment, scrutinizing the back of den, where some light streamed in, although dull as the clouds began to blot out the sun. " Crazy? of course not" She rolled her eyes, hooking a moss ball with one claw and flicking it at Blackclaw. "I'd never call you crazy dear apprentice. Just... naieve. Mouse brained, even!" She paused in her endeavors to step closer, butting him affectionately with her head. The action would be, in a larger cat, a playful shove, however Blackclaw was a massive tom, and Littlefire was perhaps the smallest she-cat in all of the clans, therefore, loosing the point of the action. Stepping around the nests, she motioned to a particularly large hole. "We can't have the elders freezing to death, now can we? Who would they blame? Certainly not I! Besides, Half-ear has a horrible cough- Starclan forbid our failure to keep out the cold turn it into something malicious!

Returning to the large tom's side, she continued her work, clawing at the moss, almost getting all of it before she noted a large form lumbering through the tunnel. She rolled her eyes once again, now at the exaggerated sigh the old tom gave as he announced his entrance. "Good morning to you as well, One-eye. Been sneaking around? I see you didn't coerce my apprentice into it this time- for shame! What will be next, will you start taking Half-ear? I'm sure he'd love the adventure." She grinned at her father before looking up and eyeing the sneaky elder with a mock disapproving glare- not that she didn't really disapprove, she felt he shouldn't be wandering anywhere, while at the same time, she knew better to chastise his outings- it would fall on deaf ears regardless! Plus, it would take away what she knew was one of Blackclaw's favorite pastimes, although she was careful to cover any serious knowledge she had on it, only mentioning it in ill-placed jokes once in a while. With that thought, he gaze slid warmly black over her over-kind apprentice. Of course he took One-eye out, he couldn't seem to disappoint anyone, and should One-eye want to go out so badly, well, she was certain the tom felt it necessary to oblige.

"Will you two behave while I go fetch mouse bile for the ticks?" Running her tail again down Blackclaw's back as she turned and headed for the tunnel, she threatened half-heartedly over her shoulder. "If I catch you two sneaking out while I'm gone for a few seconds, I'll feed you both to some hungry ShadowClan kits! She bounded a the last few tail lengths out of the tunnel, and into the main section of the camp, where slushy snow dotted the ground, and the thick grey clouds were now overhead, as well as a gusty, piercing wind and immediately made the small she-cat shudder. With her small size, leaf-bare was always a hard time, although she often avoided illness. She couldn't help but note, however, as she trekked to the medicine cat den, the sudden hacking cough that rose from Half-ear as she walked away, and as she hid the pang of worry that the sound brought when the temperatures dropped so suddenly.

blackclaw

MORE AND MORE PEOPLE I KNOW ARE GETTING ILL. PULL SOMETHING GOOD FROM THE ASHES NOW BE STILL.

The former apprentice had his paws in some bedding and was unsuccessfully trying to extricate himself as Littlefire replied.
"Crazy? Of course not," she said, and Blackclaw just managed to duck in time as the ball of moss grazed his ears. He shot her a particularly toothy grin. "I'd never call you crazy, dear apprentice. Just... naïve. Mouse brained, even!" Well! The warrior pulled a shocked face, and when Littlefire butted his side, he staggered dramatically to the side, paws still stuck into the wads of bedding.
"We can't have the elders freezing to death, now can we? Who would they blame? Certainly not I! Besides, Half-ear has a horrible cough- StarClan forbid our failure to keep out the cold turn it into something malicious!"
The idea of the elders blaming Littlefire for anything was so laughable that Blackclaw would have chuckled, if it hadn't been for the honest critique that bracketed it (even though it was wrapped up in teasing). Littlefire was right, as usual-- he'd just wanted to make sure that the den didn't get stuffy. That was the one thing that could ruin a perfectly good den: cats living in confined space and with no clear air to refresh them seemed like the worst kind of punishment he could imagine: you might as well bury them alive. Still, one day of stuffiness was probably worth protection from the cold. Probably.
Whatever was going on in his head, Blackclaw had never stood by seriousness as a philosophy and whatever came out of his mouth was usually ready to live up to that theme.

As he began to extricate himself from his predicament, the tom was about to reply when he heard someone coming down the tunnel behind him. Oops! Blackclaw tried to squeeze himself into a corner to leave the entering cat enough room. He usually forgot about his bulk outside, but in the dens it was very inconvenient taking up another half-cat more space than you had to. Seeing One-eye, and hearing his deep, long, drawn-out sigh (did the tom have to practice those? He certainly had a very impressive set of lungs!) meant the dark-furred warrior had to stifle a smile. He caught the elder's pointed blink (or would that just be a wink?) and, grinning, batted one eyelid in reply, as if he were a very confused she-cat only batting her eyelashes with one half of her face. He could pretend he had something in his eye, and Littlefire wouldn't be able to question him-- or at the very least, Blackclaw would have implausible deniability on his side. As it was, the warrior purred a cheerful, "good morning!" and tried to look innocent.

One-eye's presence in the elder's den was something that had never made sense to him. The tom could handle himself outside camp, admittedly with a bit of difficulty, but didn't all cats have a weakness of some kind or another? Maybe he just liked the old warrior too much-- he was certainly more fun than a lot of the cats half his age! As Littlefire began her half-teasing reprimand, the warrior finally managed to get his paws out of the bedding. He did turn his head away from her and roll his eyes a little for One-eye's benefit, but the tom never meant any harm by it. Littlefire's approval meant a lot, but there was room in their relationship for teasing too, and his former mentor didn't seem to mind her apprentice's foibles. The fresh ThunderClan air, thick with pine; the brisk temperature (although Littlefire promised snow, the ground was still clear); the excitement of the hunt: there was nothing like it, and by the fuzz on a kitten it was good for whatever ailed you. As long as that ailment wasn't a complete lack of limbs. Or teeth. Oh, or a head: he was lead to understand that those were important for, you know, living.

There had been a story once, one that his grandmother had liked, that told of an old leader and her hunting prowess. The moral was some sappy thing about the importance of taking care of the people you loved in the best way you could (and certainly old granny had used it to guilt his mother into spending more time with her), but the part Blackclaw had liked best had been the old leader taking a dying elder out for one last hunting trip. What the elder didn't know, with his failing senses, was that the leader had taken all her available warriors out of camp and set them up as an honour guard, just to protect this one crazy elder as he hunted for field-mice or something. When the elder finally caught something, the story went, the years just seemed to fall away from him. He ended up living another twenty moons, dying peacefully on the same night as his mate. It was a good story. To the warrior, it had always meant that there was hope, so long as you could live the life a cat was meant to.

The young warrior did, however, have the decency to look down and flick his tail a little in embarrassment as Littlefire weighed in on his own role in One-eye's escapes.

Well, no-one could ever say that Blackclaw was the perfect apprentice. He pushed the now-balled old betting into their pile and began kneading it all together in preparation for carrying it -and here the tom hid the grin that he felt coming on- out of camp.
"Will you two behave while I go fetch mouse bile for the ticks?"
The warrior straightened his face up and gave his most ordinary, placid smile. "Us? Of course!"
Her threat fell, as predicted, on deaf ears.

Half-ear's hacking cough brought Littlefire's earlier words home. Blackclaw had to forcibly bite back the "and some honey or something, too!" that rose in his chest: Littlefire wouldn't hear him. He wasn't a medicine cat, but was something Half-ear seemed to need. Hopefully, the medicine cat could give something to Littlefire for her father's throat as well.
But the hacking did subside fairly quickly, and although the young warrior padded over, eyes soft, to check up on the elder and make sure he was OK, there was no sign of blood or anything physically damaged that he could see. They exchanged a few words as the elder assured the warrior that he was all right now, and although Blackclaw felt a twinge in his chest, this was not a situation he could help with. Much as he'd like to help everyone, StarClan's voice had never called him as an apprentice-- that was the closest the tom had ever come to being assured that he was walking the right path. As no further coughs were forthcoming and Half-ear seemed to be breathing normally, Blackclaw made his parting speech and padded back over to his carry-sized chunks of bedding.
Blackclaw didn't know if the idea would appeal to One-eye (after all, Littlefire's threat had only been half-joking and it didn't take that long to fetch mousebile) but this few seconds of freedom were the best the tom could offer at the moment. The young warrior glanced sideways at Half-ear, flopped in his nest, and mused aloud, "Well, looks like this bedding needs to be taken out of camp. Wouldn't you agree, One-eye?" And you wouldn't have to be a genius to notice the glimmer of a smile, barely hidden, behind Blackclaw's yellow eyes.

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One-eye watched as the younger pair went about their morning duties in his den. It was nice, seeing Littlefire come in every morning to care for her parents. It almost made him wish he'd had kits to come take care of him. But he wasn't old enough to need looking after yet! Right?

One-eye, being clearly the youngest of the elders and later int he day, after Littlefire's patrol through their den, he thought of himself as their caretaker. It was easier for him to go talk to the medicine cat if there was an issue and it helped him keep his mind off of the tediousness of just sleeping all day. He had grown to love the old farts in a way he hadn't when he was just a warrior. "Will you two behave while I go fetch mouse bile for the ticks? If I catch you two sneaking out while I'm gone for a few seconds, I'll feed you both to some hungry ShadowClan kits!"

One-eye's jaw dropped as he stared after her. Miss-behave!? Them!? Who did she think she was talking to? However the second she was gone, he couldn't hold the serious expression and bust out laughing. Being serious was hard work. He stood up now that his exaggerated fall into bed had done it's work and began to help Blackclaw clump the bedding together. "Well, looks like this bedding needs to be taken out of camp. Wouldn't you agree, One-eye?" His face widened into a grin.

"No ShaddowClan kit's stomach could deal with me! Besides, it isn't sneaking out if I am doing a job. And accompanied by a fine strong young warrior!" His grin was muffled as he thrusted his head down to grab some of the bedding balls. He did everything in his power to pick up as many as he could. He was able to get three after quite a bit of hard work. "Lss gtr 't" (loosely translated to 'Let's get to it')

blackclaw

MORE AND MORE PEOPLE I KNOW ARE GETTING ILL. PULL SOMETHING GOOD FROM THE ASHES NOW BE STILL.

One-eye's laughter was infectious; the tom's attempt to maintain serious composure had been the best sight Blackclaw had laid eyes on in a long time. He was just recovering when the older cat came over to assist in the balling-up process. Whoops. He hadn't been meaning to make such a hash of the job, but looking at his shoddy handiwork, well, he saw it. With One-eye's assistance, though, the balls looked much sturdier and prepared to make their long and arduous trip to wherever balls of bedding went when they passed away. Did StarClan receive the ghosts of bedding? The tom grinned at the thought of some poor former ThunderClanner waking up every morning, precariously balanced on a stack of elders' beds that had appeared overnight. Maybe the other StarClan warriors would be glad to take the extra beds, but that wouldn't change the fact that this poor cat was, tragically, haunted by the ghosts of ThunderClan elders' bedding: condemned to occasionally wake up a tree-length or so off the ground. Maybe one day, this cat would finally have his fill of their shenanigans and, some dark moonless night, would enter his and Littlefire's dreams, crying for vengeance upon the cats whose reckless regard for cleanliness had made him the laughing-stock of StarClan. 'And from that day forth, whenever anycat tried to replace a nest, Littlefire and her former apprentice would run yowling in fear of StarClan's terrible wrath.'

"No ShadowClan kit's stomach could deal with me!" One-eye declared, and Blackclaw's huge grin reappeared. "Besides, it isn't sneaking out if I am doing a job. And accompanied by a fine strong young warrior!"
The dark-furred warrior chuckled. "What do you mean? I always thought you were accompanying me!" The 'elder' had so much energy that Blackclaw could believe he'd never left the apprentices' den, let alone the warriors'-- but they had to be quick: Littlefire would be back any minute, and if she stopped them as they were going out of camp instead of coming in, there wouldn't be another opportunity for hours. And in the meantime, there would be the stench of mousebile everywhere. Gross, no thank-you: that was a job he would be happy to put off for a little while.

He watched as One-eye shoved his face into the mess of bedding and struggled to clamp his teeth around as many as he could, and the young warrior's easy laugh escaped him at the sight of the old warrior trying so very hard to pick up so much bedding. It was a truly impressive sight-- truly worthy of one of the heroic tales the elders told when he was a kit. The warrior put his own teeth to the task, trying to stuff as much into his face as possible. But when One-eye looked up and the warrior caught his eye and saw the older tom's face half-obscured by the balls, he looked so much like he'd sprouted a small shrub that Blackclaw had to choke back another laugh-- and nearly dropped his own bundles in doing so. Even when he put his head back down, trying to match One-eye's three, he was still laughing (though muffled by greenery) and just barely managed to retain the third ball.
One-eye's garbled "lss gtr 't" was as good a signal as any. He shot the remaining balls a purposeful glance as if to say "don't think this is the end, you villains!" and, trying not to catch One-eye's eye in case the vision of the grey tabby as sprouting foliage made a reappearance, led the way out of the den.

The air outside was chillier than in the elders' den, but not by much. ThunderClan camp was mostly deserted, though he thought he could hear the rustling of stirring cats in the warriors' den, and shot a quick glance to the medicine cat's cleft. No sign of Littlefire. Blackclaw assumed an exaggerated hunting crouch, tail in the air, and 'stealthed' his way over to the camp entrance. The night guard was gone and so the two cats were free to leave camp unopposed. He prowled through the tunnel, hoping against hope that Littlefire was still in the medicine cat's den, his heart in his mouth. If she caught him like this, behaving like a foolish kit in newleaf, he didn't think he'd ever live it down. But, against all odds and in spite of moving with all the grace and speed of a limping duck, he crawled out of the tunnel without incident. They'd done it! He hadn't even noticed that his heart had been beating fast until he took a few running bounds into the trees and back to One-eye again, releasing his pent-up energy. They were free! Well, mostly free. They had a few seconds of freedom. It wasn't much, but in spite of it being work, the warrior hoped One-eye could enjoy it. They might even fetch some extra fresh bedding between here and the dirt-place; maybe there would be something One-eye could catch that had strayed foolishly close to camp. There was a familiar pang in his chest that reminded him that his mentor would be disappointed in him, but One-eye was the exception to his normal do-not-disappoint-Littlefire rule. As long as one clanmate was happier, as long as One-eye was enjoying the fresh air (in which he was now skipping), then all was well. He just hoped Littlefire would forgive him: it was difficult to remember that she was clan deputy as well as his mentor, and therefore probably someone he should be obeying twice as much. Blackclaw had never objected to bringing others happiness, whatever it brought on his own head.

One-eye continued to grin as he recognized the stifled laughter. He enjoyed laughter. It was good for the soul. It was one of the major reasons he did most of his pranking (although the recipient was not usually the one doing the laughing). Seeing Blackclaw laugh made most of the regret of his inevitable scolding melt away.

One-eye followed behind Blackclaw, keeping his eye on the Medicine Den far more then the younger cat. Although he was not afraid of Littlefire, it would just be better overall if she didn't come out. He (miraculously) made it to the camp exit without ever removing his gaze from the medicine den but once he was there, he had to watch where he was going. He reluctantly turned away from his watch and shimmied his way out to freedom (a task much harder when your face was full of bedding).

Once they were free, he dropped the balls and gasped for air. "GOSH, that's a terrible taste for too long of a time." He pawed one of the balls and was able to flip into the air. He spun around quickly, whacking the ball with his butt as it fell back to the ground. The force of the impact sent it flying away from them. Impressive! Or so he thought. He pawed another ball, kicking it hard with his front foot and sending it after the second. The grey tom looked over at his partner's childish excitement. With the most innocent face he could muster, he comment, only half heatedly trying to hide his own kit-like bubbling. "Oops, two of the balls just slipped away from me in my clumsy elderness. We'd better go after them.

The she-cat's trip in the cold wasn't long, and the medicine cat's den was warm and the air was thick and aromatic with herbs. It took just a few moments to be laden down with moss soaked in mouse bile hooked on one claw, and another- thankfully, coated in honey clamped in her jaws. The scent was sickeningly sweet, but she was grateful for the scent, masking the stench of mousebile as she hobbled quickly back across the camp, holding her front paw, balancing the soaked moss, high off the ground. Perhaps, if not for the sensory overload, she'd have noted the tom's escapades a little earlier, however it wasn't until she was in the elder's den, dropping off the moss and glancing around curiously. It was obviously some sort of joke, yeah? She glanced at her parents, who were locked in deep conversation with one another, useless for questioning. She started to bristle, but forced it down, delivering the honey to his father before asking them to hold on a moment while she took out the rest of the moss. Withholding anger, she stepped back out into the cold, and caught the scent she had missed. A few cats called out greetings as she passed, but with each step, she picked up her pace, ignoring them in her frenzy.

She bolted out of the thorn tunnel and into the cold forest, her fur standing on end. Fighting to rein in her temper, she opened her mouth and tasted the air, catching their scent. Her mind instantly began going over how she wanted to chew them out, how she could avoid tearing into them both- and then a moment of clarity. She flattened her fur, glancing up at the dark clouded sky through the twisting branches, and the small, white snowflakes beginning to fall. She wouldn't barge in like a fireball- oh no. She decided she's see what those toms were up to. Spitting out the moss balls she had carried with, she allowed herself to... disappear. Paw steps light on the ground, the lack of snow formation yet kept her paw prints hidden, sliding soundlessly into the undergrowth while tracking their scent, although very soon, the voices carried on the wind and straight into her pricked forward ears. Silent and stealthy, she kept herself downwind of the pair of toms. Littlefire approached as close as she dared, watching through the twisted branches of a juniper bush, the form of the large, black tom, and the smaller elder, laughing and joking like kits, despite going directly against her will? She should have gone after them then, but something kept her paws frozen in place, her eyes narrow and her gaze locked.

blackclaw

MORE AND MORE PEOPLE I KNOW ARE GETTING ILL. PULL SOMETHING GOOD FROM THE ASHES NOW BE STILL.

Blackclaw laid the balls of bedding down, glancing at One-eye. He must have gotten a bad nest. The black tom wrinkled his nose sympathetically: there was nothing like a mouthful of someone else's fur to rain on your day. It was never the last time, either; not when it was a duty you performed with the regularity of the sun.
"Slow down there," the warrior purred, teasing as ever: "I know, it's not as delicious as it looks." One of the crusty balls at his feet may or may not have moved in agreement.

Well, hopefully this means of sneaking out of camp wouldn't have to be used again- he could think of less unpleasant ways to get out of camp. And speaking of which, now that they were outside, there was the possibility for both danger and lurking behind every tree. The tom took a quick scent of the air and casually surveyed the trees, just to make sure that there was no danger near by that would necessitate a swift run back to camp. The air was clear: wherever the badgers and foxes were hiding out, it wasn't near here. For all his enthusiasm, and whatever the cats of WindClan thought of their cheerful warrior, Blackclaw's care for his clanmates was never just about making sure they were happy: you had to keep an eye out for more mundane troubles as well. And Littlefire would be furious enough with him without adding an injury to that list.

 One-eye kicked up one of the balls with one paw and sent it careening into the bushes, and Blackclaw found a miniature Littlefire had perched in the back of his mouth and was about to mew something about this being completely out of line, this was only supposed to be a quick trip out of camp to bury some dead leaves, just what did One-eye think he was doing? There was no way that whatever One-eye had planned, it was going to take as little time as they had. But there was a way Blackclaw could head this off and keep One-eye near camp, even while disposing of the bedding in the forest, and the dark tom grinned a little wider. One-eye had gotten up some impressive distance with that ball, and he had an idea.

"Wait there!" Blackclaw called over his shoulder, bounding about the same distance away as the fallen balls. There was a game to be had in this. "OK," the warrior chirped when he was happy with his position. "Do it again!" The warrior shifted his weight to his back legs, preparing to jump into the air. "l think another one of those balls is about to make run for it!"

"Wait there!" One-eye was about to retort that he was not about to hang back while Blackclaw got all of the fun, but then he realized the warrior wasn't going to far and stopped. "OK, do it again!" One-eye's playful grin only widened like a madcat. "l think another one of those balls is about to make run for it!" He only had one more ball near him but it would be easy to go get the three Blackclaw had dropped if the one he sent got lost or the recipient missed his timing.

The older cat backed up a few tail-lengths and judged his distance. Before starting his run, he licked the back of his paw and held it up, cocking his head as he tried to feel the wind ruffle his paw fur. It was mostly comical...he could taste the direction of the air and feel it on his pelt anyway. He closed the eyelid of his lost eye (not that it actually changed his visibility) and started to run at the ball. With a huge show and expulsion of energy, he kicked the ball with a forepaw and sent it flying toward Blackclaw.

He was actually quite suprised by accurate his aim seemed to be. I mean sure, it wasn't headed directly for him but it was pretty close! He nodded satisfaction and sat down, lifting his own head with pride. Aw yeah. He was good, all right. He was awesome.

He probably should have noticed the sandy she-cat sitting off to the side of them. She was upwind but pretty close to his line of sight. Unfortunately for poor One-eye, he just wasn't paying attention to the she-cat who was deciding their fate.

blackclaw

MORE AND MORE PEOPLE I KNOW ARE GETTING ILL. PULL SOMETHING GOOD FROM THE ASHES NOW BE STILL.

One-eye's madcap grin had the fur on Blackclaw's spine tingling. His own grin felt terribly tame in comparison. There had always been something in the older tom that spelled 'trouble' in huge capital letters: it was hard to miss, but Blackclaw, needless to say, liked it--even if causing trouble purely for the sake of trouble had never lined up with the darker tom's philosophy. 'Trouble' usually needed to be cleaned up, after all. But this kind of trouble, messing around with One-eye, seemed perfectly safe (at least in the sense that neither of them was likely to get physically injured). Blackclaw was trying to keep part of his attention on the woods, just in case. The light was getting colder as the clouds encroached.

And now what on earth was he doing? One-eye backed up dramatically; the warrior chuckled out loud as he tested the wind with a forepaw. It was blowing from the east, off the sea, and if ThunderClan's territory hadn't been so far inland or so surrounded by trees, Blackclaw might almost have felt like he could smell the ocean. His heart was hammering in his chest with anticipation. He hoped this worked. He hoped he wouldn't make a fool of himself-- not because he had some thing about pride or whatever, but because he wanted to see if they could keep this up-- whatever this was! It was rare for the other warriors to consider anything that wasn't hunting, fighting, patrolling or sleeping. They must have thought Blackclaw immature, and well, they wouldn't be wrong. But, equally, however exciting your duties had the potential to be, wasn't it even more exciting to make something new, to do something different for a change? If growing up was being content with a warrior's duties alone, then Blackclaw had certainly never grown up-- and he hoped that, like One-eye, he never would.

He took a deep breath and grinned his most rogue-ish grin as One-eye took his run-up, tensed his muscles for the spring. One-eye's shot had been surprisingly good-- the tom had been banking on leaping dramatically for the ball and trying to swipe at it mid-jump. He just had enough time to jump up onto his hind legs and swing one huge forepaw at the ball, sending it sailing back towards One-eye... well, mostly at One-eye: it was heading for a bush beside him. The dark tom winced. Not as good a shot as One-eye's, not by a long... shot.

Glitch, if you want the bush to be Littlefire's, you're welcome to pick up the thread from there :3 If you'd rather she stay hidden for a bit longer, I guess it's Afanc's turn again?

Grey eyes followed the toms, a stoic look on Littlefire's face, masking anger. A few times, she was certain they'd notice her, coming hair lengths from where she was crouched, but in their oblivious stupor, they failed to notice. A moss ball aimed at One-eye soared through the air, landing in the juniper bush, inches from Littlefire's tawny foot. Narrowing her eyes, she smashed it under-paw, and steeled her expression, slinking out of her hiding place, her expression cold. The sudden silence made the air thick enough to slice, as she flicked her gaze slowly between the two offenders. There was a long pause before she opened her mouth."I had one request for you two. Behave." Despite her small stature, as her anger bubbled over, she seemed to fill the immediate area with her massive presence. She rounded quickly on One-eye. "One-eye! You say that you want a chance to continue being a warrior, despite that you were moved to the elder's den for a handicap that would make it unsafe for you, and everyone you were with. You would become a hazard! Regardless of that, how would you expect me to allow it, if when given a simple direction, you fail to follow it? You are asked to stay in cap, and you deliberately disobey! That is not the sort of warrior I want in my patrols, in my hunting parties!"

Her rage at the elder was palpable, but when she turned her attention to Blackclaw, she became a different sort of demon. Her eyes darkened with rage, but also hurt, and when she spoke, her voice dripped with venom. "And you. Have you no respect for me? Did my hard work and training mean nothing to you? Obviously not! Then how about my position? If you have no respect for me as a mentor and a friend then you damn well better have respect for me as your Deputy!" She was almost out of breath in her anger, her eyes bright and lashing between both of them angrily.

"Both of you, back to camp, now! One-eye, I don't want to see you out of the elder's den! Blackclaw!" Again she rounded on the warrior, her eyes like chips of steel. "You are relived from all of your duties today! I don't want to see you out of camp- nix that, I don't want to see you. Tomorrow, you are on every patrol. Now go!" She didn't even wait for them to obey, spinning around and stalking away from them, deeper into the woods rather than back to camp herself. She figured she'd cool of, do some hunting, before she came back into the vicinity of either tom, and ripped their pelts off.

One-eye wasn't entirely sure what Blackclaw's plan was for his end of the ball but he watched as the younger cat pushed off of his back paws and sprung into the air. Without realizing he had done it, One-eye stood up and took a step back, holding his breath as he waited to see if the ball would be hit or missed.

He let out an excited cheer when Blackclaw's forpaw made contact with the ball and he started to adjust his position in relevance to where the ball was headed. Man, if he could hit it back toward the younger tom...how cool would that be! His head was up, keeping his good eye focused on the ball. He hadn't even noticed as he ran into the bush. He was so distracted, he missed the ball and backed out of the mini-tree, using his tail to brush off the leaves that clung to him as an alternative to falling to the ground.

"Sorry, Blackclaw, I wasn't watching where I was-" He stopped when he felt his fur prick. Slowly, he looked up and saw Littlefire walking out of the bush he had just run into. "I had one request for you two. Behave." He dipped his head instantly, knowing the wrath that was about to happen. "One-eye! You say that you want a chance to continue being a warrior, despite that you were moved to the elder's den for a handicap that would make it unsafe for you, and everyone you were with. You would become a hazard! Regardless of that, how would you expect me to allow it, if when given a simple direction, you fail to follow it? You are asked to stay in cap, and you deliberately disobey! That is not the sort of warrior I want in my patrols, in my hunting parties!" He opened his mouth to respond but before he could, she turned to Blackclaw and began to yell at him.

One-eye took this time to back up a few paces so he wasn't as close to the furious she-cat. "Both of you, back to camp, now! One-eye, I don't want to see you out of the elder's den! Blackclaw! You are relived from all of your duties today! I don't want to see you out of camp- nix that, I don't want to see you. Tomorrow, you are on every patrol. Now go!" She stormed off into the woods before either tom could speak. One-eye waited for her to be far enough out of earshot before he dared speak tot he other cat. I'm sorry I got you in trouble but...I just don't understand. We weren't harming anycat and it's not like either of us were in danger. She's just so...traditional!" He fell silent for a moment, looking at the ground as he started to walk slowly back to camp.

When he spoke again, it was obvious that he had been thinking very heavily about what Littlefire had said. "I'm not...am I really a hazard? Am I that much trouble to the other cats?"