IT'S NOT SO WISE — PRIVATE

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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:500px; text-align:justify; font-size:10pt]After everything, he had died. After ScarClan, after losing his closest friend, after Breakdance's reign, after Flicker's disappearance, after Diable and Faustus and Belial and Sylmae. After moving clans to try to find a home, after trying to conform to a pro-clan, after fading away, he had died. He remembered the sweet escape, and he remembered closing his eyes and feeling, finally, at ease.


    He had been pleased with death.


    This time, he did not roll in his grave, he did not fight Death, did not climb his way from his tomb to reclaim with a great roar what was his. There was no struggle or bitterness. He had been through enough torment, and he died without fearing for his loved ones.


    But he had awoken again, confused and groggy at first. He had stumbled to his paws, and upon seeing his reflection in a nearby stream, the tiger let out a snarl of pure rage. He was alive. Alive for no damned clear purpose. He had no reason to live again, not when everyone he cared about was dead or missing. He was angry. He was tired. He had no purpose of life.


    He had wandered for days before finding DarkClan, and then RiverClan, and then ShadowClan. He had discovered Sylmae and Faustus were still lingering, but nothing felt the same. He was filled with bitterness and rage, a new soul occupying his body, one that came with more rage than Bane himself held inside. And then came the flashbacks. The PTSD being triggered. The moments in which he found himself reliving every agonizing moment of his life and lashing out to anyone nearby him, blinded with his own torment.


    He was bloody and broken as he wandered the loner lands, the only place in which he allowed himself to sleep as to not harm anyone. Bane occasionally found himself having killed nearby prey, or rogues, or waking from his flashback to find a broken creature pinned down, bleeding and gasping for air. But it was better than hurting a clanmate or someone he knew. It was the safest thing for him right now.


    And so, covered in fresh blood, the tiger would make his way to a nearby stream to clean himself up. The great feline watched silently as the blood from his own wounds and the stranger's flow away, eyes averting from his own reflection, as if that somehow made this all feel better.
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    info — updated 12/27

    [fancypost borderwidth= 0px; line-height: 14px; border-radius: 0px; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; width: 450px]Millions of thoughts swarmed throughout his mind. Cottonfawn had awoken from a deep slumber recently (one that he, too, wish he wouldn't have stirred from), and with that came a new body. A large, stocky dire wolf. He was awkward and clumsy, for it was nothing like a servals. Servals were small and agile, while this.. this was heavy and muscular. It would take some time for him to get used to it, but he would have patience, for there was no way in hell that he would return to that damned serval body anytime soon.


    It hurt too much. Too many memories hung within that feline; memories he wasn't about to relive. The thoughts that plagued his mind were ones of old friends, family, and life. He had lost everyone, everyone, multiple times. Cottonfawn wanted to forget them. Cottonfawn wanted to stay as far away as he could from them, so that they couldn't hurt each other anymore. The boy would possibly shatter if lost them again.


    When he awoke from his sleep, he considered living alone. It was a nice future to think about.. but terribly lonely. Although he denies it now, Cotton needs others to survive. He needs the company of loved ones, to be surrounded with other souls. Living on his own would kill him inside.


    So, he found his way to Bloodclan. Well, he didn't technically.. seek the clan out. As he stumbled about the rugged landscape, the scent of the anticlan crossed his path, so he settled there. Going back to Scarclan wasn't even a choice anymore, and the closest place was the safest. He didn't know of anyone there, and to his knowledge, no one knew him. Cotton preferred that way of life; he couldn't get hurt if he didn't know anyone.


    After joining Bloodclan, he needed his space. He needed time to contemplate how long he had been asleep, and what exactly had happened while he was asleep. He doubted anyone from the clans would be out in rogue territory, so that's the first place he went. His paw was gradually healing, and the limp he had was almost nonexistent. The dire wolf trotted over a grassy hill, hazel irises glued to the ground. Even if there was someone he stumbled upon, he wouldn't want to interact with them, or even get into a fight. Loners and rogues were notorious for picking fights, and Cottonfawn really, really didn't want to right now.


    He came across a pleasant stream, to his luck. He was quite thirsty from all the walking he was doing, for he was a good hours walk away from Bloodclan territory. As he reached the flowing water, the lupine lowered his head to drink, enjoying the cool water. Although.. something was off. After hovering over the surface of the stream, Cottonfawn wrinkled his maw back in dismay, for there was the taste of blood in the water. He inspected the rest of the stream closely, and to his surprise, small tendrils of blood floated down. The boy turned his head sharply to look upstream.. and spotted a tiger. Fear shot through his heart and into his stomach, for the tiger was casually washing blood off of their self. That meant they were either a very messy eater.. or they had been in a fight. Cotton was an okay fighter himself, but he still wasn't skilled enough with his new body to actually defend himself.


    Due to him still being the idiot he always was, the wolf rushed out of the water, creating a commotion. Instead of staring at the other like a creep, he simply studied the tiny fish fluttering about near the shore of the stream. Act. Causal.


    (dear god how did i write so much
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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:500px; text-align:justify; font-size:10pt]The quiet trickling of the stream reminded Wolfsbane of simpler times. Like when Jericho and he had been friends, and they had shoved one another into the freezing water in the early evening. When Uma and he first met, and after Bane nudged the other into the water, all their shields came down. When everything was laughter and fun, when times were simpler and they weren't weighed down with the load of their worries. When it was just his friends and the water and their laughter errupting into the orange evening sky.


    But this time, there was no Jericho, nor Uma. There was the reflection of a brooding tiger, his face scarred and his muzzle stained with blood, his side sporting a carving of the word, 'MINE,' and his prosthetic leg. He no longer glowed with health and happiness, but held only a hostility and lingering anger in his eyes. There was only the reflection of the broken man he had become, and the crimson blood that floated away.


    The tiger spilled the water onto his forearm, scrubbing out the blood with a determined force, ears flat against his skull in disdain for the blood he wore. He rinsed his muzzle, again and again scrubbing at his fur, but it seemed the blood would not come out completely. There still lay a faint red tint to where the liquid had spilled onto.


    And so, after forfeiting, the feline raised his head and shook the droplets from his maw, stilling a moment to peer at his reflection, feeling the urge to swipe it away into dissolvents of an image. But before he could, a loud splashing was heard, and his head swung downstream to spot a large wolf quickly rushing out of the stream. The tiger's silver gaze lingered on the other's form, brows furrowing slightly as he became aware that he was not alone.


    The brute was still a moment before he slowly stepped out of the stream, water trailing from his paws and muzzle as he moved silently, ears pinned back in wariness of the other. He supposed it wasn't odd to see another soul in the loner lands, but the skittish nature the other seemed to display was certaintly odd. These lands were filled with fiercely independent souls, rogues, or those exiled from clans. They weren't exactly filled with those light at heart- certainly not those bothered by a bit of blood, either. At least, Wolfsbane would think so.


    The tiger paused a moment after exiting the stream, taking a moment to decide if he should continue upstream or return to ShadowClan, or perhaps RiverClan to find Sylmae to tend to his new injuries. Examining the scratches and bite marks the struggling loner had given him, the creature decided it was best to return to RiverCln, for Sylmae would kill him if he didn't tend to his wounds in proper time or at least allow her to help. After all, she was the only one he would allow to try to help him in such a battered state. He didn't want anyone to see him like this, and Sylmae he knew he could trust to always believe in him.


    And so the tiger turned downstream, making his way down the water he had used as a steady landmark to retrace his trail back to RiverClan last night. The tiger kept his silver gaze locked on the dark shape of the canine that had rather quickly exited the river, his eyes lingering in form of curiosity. Something about the creature made the tiger further confused by their presence, and he soon drew the similarity of this feeling back to when he had greeted Faustus in ShadowClan, who was clad in a new body.


    And so as he nearly passed the wolf, a couple of feet away to keep his distance, he suddenly stopped, turning to look back at the male he had just walked by, eyes narrowed slightly as he tried to evaluate both the canine and the tiger's own sense of familiarity.


    "Do I know you?" He finally spoke after a moment of silence, his voice rough, and his stance defensive. Did he truly want to know? Wolfsbane wasn't sure himself, but he had to ask rather than wonder later on- his mind was already filled with enough bad memories and thoughts.
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    info — updated 12/27

    [fancypost borderwidth= 0px; line-height: 14px; border-radius: 0px; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; width: 450px]As the minutes passed, Cottonfawn became more and more agitated with the small fish. Every time he would try to capture one under his paw, they would slip away at the last moment. A small grunt left his throat as he gave up, only to lift his head once more to glance at the tiger. The feline seemed to be approaching him; bad news to Cotton. Panic flooded through his entire body, for there were a short number of things he could do. He could run from the other, though that would risk reopening the wound on his paw.


    The dire wolf could stand his ground if the other wanted trouble. He was clumsy, not stupid. Taking another glance at the oncoming tiger, his paws itched, for the other was steps away from him. Cottondawn noticed that the other's eyes were a striking silver.. which seemed familiar. His own dark gaze shot back down to pebbles, trying to avoid further eye contact.


    As the other male passed, it felt as if a crashing wave of relief poured over the lupine. He waited a few extra moments before standing, raising his head as well. He turned, but a look of shock replaced his reassured expression. He hadn't been expecting the tiger to be standing there, looking at him. Once more, Cottonfawn's gaze dropped, for he wasn't asking for trouble.


    "Do I know you?" The question pierced through the silence, sitting heavy in the air. The dire wolf hadn't been able to get a good look at the large feline, so he wouldn't have recognized him. "Name's Cottonfawn," he rumbled, not bothering with his last name. The stranger wouldn't care if he was a Harbringer or not. "You probably don't. But.. okay, look, I'm not out here to have a nice chat. Sorry if I bothered your.. um, bath." The beast stood, glancing at the other while he passed. 'What a strange tattoo,' Cotton wondered, eyes lingering over the word "MINE" pressed into the other's side.


    Wait.


    He stopped short, a few feet away from the feline. Cottonfawn looked back, brain struggling to process what was bothering him. He didn't know this man, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he actually did. This was what he hated about the lupine body he possessed; not all of his memories were clear enough. Faces were blurry, facts were warped. He took a good look at the tiger, filtering through his memories, trying to remember a name, a place, anything. "Do you?"
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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:500px; text-align:justify; font-size:10pt]"Name's Cottonfawn,"


    And that was all his mind needed to flit through countless memories, triggering a tightness in the feline's chest that made his muscles still and his ears to perk. Cottonfawn. Cottonfawn, his friend, Cottonfawn, his forbidden interest, Cottonfawn, his... stranger. And again, a stranger still. Funny how you could go from spending time with someone nearly every other day, to not speaking at all when seeing one another. From laughing from his stomach with the other, to their exchanged lack of eye contact.


    They had been close friends. From the white-to-red color changing towel incident, to having to guide Cotton through the dark to get to the bathroom after a few scary movies, to the puzzle piece and marshmallow gun, to laser tag with silver bullet and the machine, finding him in the park high as hell, arguing with Diable to back off, to the ikea chair, and then to finding the other in the kitchen with a bag of ecstasy, and to literally slapping the demon out of Cotton.


    He had told himself it was for the better. Better to not wreck what happiness he had- to simply ignore the strange way the other stirred something faintly in him. It was nothing- it was to be overlooked. But that was before Nosferatu. Before Wolfsbane's strange faint feeling turned quickly into a jealousy, but one that the tiger himself had not understood until everything came pouring out, pouring out in Cottonfawn's living room, where Wolfsbane had simply snapped, speaking words he did not know he had thought until they pierced the air and hit, with a force, Cottonfawn's chest and bounced around the room.


    And afterwards? They became strangers. They didn't talk or even look at one another. They continued on with their lives, and went their separate ways. It was simpler this way- it was smarter this way.


    But then the canine spoke again, and snapped the tiger out of his memories. "Look, I'm not out here to have a nice chat..." The statement made the tiger blink a few times, as if it weighed him down even more. Yeah, still strangers. It was all real. What did Bane expect, after all? To get a big hug and for everything to return to the old days so they could play pranks on one another again and be the one he called when he got stuck in a vending machine? Stupid. Everything was darker now.


    "Do you?"


    The tiger was still a moment, staring blankly at the other. Did he? He used to- but now? He didn't know who Cottonfawn was. He knew who he used to be. Not this- not him.


    "No. I don't think I do, grass." He murmured softly.
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    info — updated 12/27

    [fancypost borderwidth= 0px; line-height: 14px; border-radius: 0px; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; width: 450px]Dizzy. Dizzy is what he felt at that moment, for his world seemed to start spinning. For only one soul in the entire universe would use that name for him, one soul whom he thought was rotting somewhere in a grave. Instead of being alone out here, Cottonfawn realized that he was still as close to the people he loved as he was months ago. The lupine's throat felt tight as he fully turned around, eyes not leaving the other.


    He had been hurt. He had been gravely hurt by Wolfsbane, which is why he felt bitterness rising up in his throat. Wolfsbane had torn him apart with just a few words, and he had left him with those words. Everything fell apart for a reason Cottonfawn understood, but at the same time, didn't. The Bane he knew wouldn't have destroyed every damn thing they had built for.. for what? Anger suddenly filled his heart; a hot, boiling feeling, for he had a right to be. "I wouldn't expect you to. Since, you know." His words were coated with venom, but after they left his mouth, he instantly regretted them.


    "I'm.." he started again, but he didn't know where to go with it. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he wasn't sure if Wolfsbane wanted to listen. After a moment's consideration, he chuckled, "I'm surprised you're still alive. It always seems like the universe is out to get you, so." A quick grin flashed across his face as he spoke, but it was tense. He wasn't sure what kind of emotions to feel; it felt like he was going through all the stages of grief as well as the stages of happiness. "Um," Cotton continued; he knew he should stop, but his mouth just kept going, "I'm sorry for.. ruining things. You and.. yeah. I don't think you want to see me. I mean, it's great if you do, because I'm happy to see you, but I understand if you don't.. want me around? Not around, but just.. if you don't want to see me." He cringed at himself when he stopped, for he hadn't meant to ramble on. The dire wolf did a tiny shrug, trying to act nonchalant about the entire situation. He almost found it comical; what a coincidence that the two would meet out of nowhere.
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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:500px; text-align:justify; font-size:10pt]The next statement that came from the canine's jaws seemed to slice into Wolfsbane, as the tiger's gaze found Cottonfawn's again, his ears pinning back at the harsh words, his expression blank and void of much of... anything. It only made him feel increasingly hollow. The male simply remained silent, blinking a moment to allow his gaze to roam elsewhere- anywhere but those eyes that held too much depth for Bane to understand without further hurting.


    He is silent another brief moment before he finally speaks, and when he does, his voice is soft and rough, as if he hasn't used it much in a while. "I'm sorry." He says. It's a simple statement, but coming from the bruised and battered tiger at such a state of constant anger and aggression as he? Well, Cottonfawn knew he wasn't good at expressing his emotions, so he would have to hope that it counted for something. He was too tired and pained to argue. What was the purpose?


    "I didn't want to come back," He replies to the wolf's next words. His tone is lighter now, and he tries, oh he really tries, to give a smile to show that he... he meant to his tone to be light and airy, but his words rough like he, but his smile is weak across his war familiar muzzle. "So I guess that still proves true- I think they like to see me fall and get up again." Who they were, he didn't know. Whether it be the universe or Gods he didn't believe in, or whoever. It didn't matter, though.


    And then Cotton began rambling on and on, and the tiger felt a genuine smile, though ever so slight, appear on his maw. That was more like the Cottonfawn he knew- the one he remembered. A bit awkward and uncertain of himself at times, but that was the version of this soul he grew to become fond of. "You shouldn't be sorry. It... You didn't do anything wrong." He replied, ear flickering. "So long as you're happy to see me, I'm happy to see you." But Bane knew even if Cotton truly hated his guts, the tiger still felt a little bit lighter just by seeing the male.
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    info — updated 12/27

    [fancypost borderwidth= 0px; line-height: 14px; border-radius: 0px; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; width: 450px]He wasn't expecting an apology from the other. As soon as Wolfsbane spoke, Cottonfawn wanted to tell him that he didn't do anything wrong, that it wasn't his fault.. but he couldn't. Instead, he smiled again, but it was softer this time. It held a deeper meaning; he understood, and he was deeply grateful for the apology. "Thank you," Cotton murmured, so quiet it was almost a whisper. He knew that it wasn't easy for the other, which is why all the anger and bitterness he felt blew away.


    As he listened on, a pang of nostalgia pierced him. He was suddenly thrown back to the days where they could just spend time together without worry or care; when Cotton always seemed to find himself in a sticky situation, and Bane ended being his hero. "I'm glad you are, though," the boy found himself saying, even if it was a selfish thing to say. Part of him wanted to break away from everything that used to be in his life; the mention of Scarclan would make him queasy. The other part of him, the part that ached for his friends and loved ones, was pushed deep down into him. He changed himself completely so he wouldn't end up getting hurt, but he ended up hurting himself by doing that. The part of him that was smothered started to show again; the realization that Wolfsbane was alive brought it back to life.


    "You shouldn't be sorry. It... You didn't do anything wrong." Cottonfawn felt that tightness in his throat again, as if he were to cry. He needed to hear that, to hear that Bane did not blame him for what happened. A lopsided smile appeared on his maw, giving the lupine an air of boyish charm. Hearing that the other was happy to see him made everything brighter. "So, uh, where are you at now?" Bane always tended to wander from place to place, so it wouldn't surprise him if that's what he was up to.


    But.. as the male had a closer look at the tiger, he could see that the other bared wounds. "Bane," he urged, but he stopped for a moment. Saying the other's name was a shock to himself, for he hadn't uttered it in so long. Pulling himself out of his daze, he continued, worry clear on his face, "You're hurt. Do you need anything? I'm sure.. I'm sure I can find something. Or I could take you back to Bloodclan if you have nowhere else to go." Cotton took a step closer, head tilted as he spoke.
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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:500px; text-align:justify; font-size:10pt]Although the exchange of an "I'm sorry," and a "thank you," might've been relatively simple for most, Bane knew between Cotton and he, two words could say a lot. After everything that happened? Wolfsbane was more than grateful to hear those two words. He had missed not just the Cottonfawn that he had grown to care for more than he meant, but his friend. He wanted his friend back.


    The tiger's head lifted slightly when the canine spoke again. Perhaps resuming life wouldn't be as dreadful as he had imagined. Afterall, Faustus and Sylmae were still around and relatively happy to see him, and now with Cottonfawn and his' issues put to rest, Wolfsbane felt increasingly at peace. No, perhaps nothing could truly cue him of his flashbacks and his episodes now and again- nothing could completely piece him back together bit by bit to become the happier man he once had been... but it was a start. And it's all he needed: a second chance by his loved ones.


    The smile that now adorned the wolf's maw felt only contagious, as the tiger, with an inaudible sigh, felt the pressure and tensity roll off his shoulders. "I just wander nowadays. I suppose I mostly linger in ShadowClan- that's where some old friends are." He didn't specify who, but he didn't think Cottonfawn wanted to know. ScarClan days were a painful memory for the tiger as well.


    The other speaking his name did slightly throw off the tiger as well, his eyes snapping to the other, as if remembering the times they would always spend together- when saying his name wasn't surprising. "You're hurt." The tiger had practically forgotten, and he glanced down to look at the slashes and bites that were scattered over his forearms and chest. Although they weren't exactly injuries you would simply slap a bandaid on, Wolfsbane almost laughed, for he considered them to be nothing. Afterall, he had had his arm literally ripped off years ago. Not to mention, the asshole used salt, too.


    "I'm fine-" But he stops himself- he knows Cottonfawn isn't that oblivious. They know each other well enough for Cotton to call Bane out on his shit. He contemplates a moment, unsure whether to accept or deny his suggestion. But RiverClan was a good walk away, and he did hate to bother Sylmae again with injuries so soon after she had already tended to his wounds. He nods finally to his suggestion of bringing him to BloodClan. "Okay." He says simply, allowing himself to be taken care of for the first time in a long time.
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    info — updated 12/27

    [fancypost borderwidth= 0px; line-height: 14px; border-radius: 0px; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; width: 450px]Old friends. Cottonfawn hoped that they were not friends that he used to have, too. Although stumbling into Wolfsbane was one of the best things that happened to him since he woke up, it would be too overwhelming to know that many of his old friends were still around. One day he would find out, though, and he would have to come to terms with it. He didn't even realize that Breakdance was in Bloodclan as well, for the two hadn't had a chance to interact.


    As Wolfsbane started to speak, Cotton's face immediately formed into a pout, for he knew that the other wasn't fine. He knew Bane preferred to tough things out and not admit to being hurt; the guy could poke his eye out and still say he was fine. It was a surprise to the boy as the other agreed to go to Bloodclan, for he had been expecting him to brush off his offer. A grin replaced the pout, and the lupine's tail began to wag. "Really? It's not far at all. We'll get you fixed up in no time," he affirmed, turning back to scan the area. "I'll lead the way. Okay, that sounded really dumb. Ignore that." With that, he set off, glancing back at the tiger to see if he was following.


    (this is the most ive written in a thread on the site in 72 years
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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:500px; text-align:justify; font-size:10pt]The tiger watched with amusement the shifting and changing of the other's expressions, from a pout to a grin, and he had to admit it was endearing how youthful he seemed at times, his brightened mood reflecting on Bane. He nodded as Cotton spoke, and to his next few words, the tiger's jaws parted to let out a mix between a soft laugh and a scoff. Yes, this was more like the Cottonfawn he remembered and had treasured as company.


    Wolfsbane followed the other, and as he did, he wondered what had happened to Cottonfawn. Had he been around all his time? The last he remembered was the note the serval had left before leaving ScarClan, and Bane was left with scrawled letters as a goodbye, and a weight of guilt upon his shoulders.


    "How's the canine life treating you?" He asked instead, keeping pace with the other. "You're almost as tall as me, now." He noticed, glancing at the other curiously. He remembered Cotton had changed bodies before, he recalled it being a mythical creature, but hadn't known the exact species. So had he died, too? And if so, how? By what-- or whom? Concerned thoughts began to enter his mind, so he was quick to shoo them away. It probably wouldn't be great to dive right in after making up and drop such a bomb like, 'so... did someone murder you?'


    // i've had a lot of muse for bane lately it's a blessing
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    info — updated 12/27

    [fancypost borderwidth= 0px; line-height: 14px; border-radius: 0px; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; width: 450px]Hearing Wolfsbane laugh (even if it wasn't a real laugh) made the boy glow. He missed their times together when laughter was a normal thing; he knows that they won't be around anytime soon. As the two walked together, Cottonfawn made sure to keep the pace slow, since he didn't want to put any strain on the tiger. "It's a bit.. ruff," he joked, snickering at his own pun. Damn, that was a good one. "In all seriousness, it's alright. I'm still kind of clumsy and awkward, but when am I not? To be honest, I prefer my serval body, but that one is a bit.. roughed up right now."


    Actually, he did die. A large gash on the side of the feline's neck had caused excessive amounts of blood loss during a raid back when he lived in Colouredclan. He couldn't remember much, for all he could remember was stumbling away from the fight. He had found something to patch up the wound, but he ended up getting lost. Instead of trying to find his way back home, he wandered off, finding a small cove in which he stopped in. His serval body eventually blacked out due to blood loss, and and a few hours later, died. His soul replaced that body with his current dire wolf body, and he slipped into a coma for a good couple of months. To his surprise, he found out he could still shapeshift into his old bodies, but the injury was still present on the feline. Plus.. the memories were too strong for him to handle, so Cottonfawn just stayed in the lupine body.


    "You're right," he chuckled, lifting his chin slightly. The boy was so used to being smaller than everyone else, and now he was one of the bigger ones. It was a small confidence boost, actually. Cotton hesitated before speaking again, but ended up doing so anyways, "I, um. I died. I didn't wake up until a week or two ago, so I haven't been around for long. I don't really know how much time has passed, either." The boy's gaze was locked onto the expanse of wilderness in front of them, for he didn't feel it was right to look at Bane while he spoke about this. His voice died out to a whisper, barely audible, "Dying is scary. Really, really scary."
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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:500px; text-align:justify; font-size:10pt]The beast's jaws parted to make a snide comment about the godawful pun, but he couldn't even fathom a remark sarcastic enough for such a 'joke,' as Cottonfawn liked to think it was. He simply furrowed his brows and shook his head. "You disappoint me time after time..." He murmured with the start of a laugh. But the tiger continued to listen to the male, and nodded his head lightly. "Roughed up..." He echoed softly, brows furrowing again. What had happened? He looked to Cotton but quickly shook his head slightly. It was better not to ask, he figured. "I'm just happy you're alright now." He said instead.


    But the mood quickly shifted from punny, to a darker tone. Bane supposed he got enough of an answer then to what 'roughed up,' meant. Died. How strange to think that the boy before him had died not long ago. That Wolfsbane, who had once been a close friend, hadn't even known until now. It was fucked up, that's for sure.


    The tiger's gaze turned to the wolf when his voice turned soft. "I know, Cotton," He murmured. How many times had he passed? At least three- and perhaps the most traumatic was when Sylmae murdered him. How twisted it was- his feeling of uselessness of not being able to save Syl. He had helped draw the demon out of Uma and then Flicker, and he had so believed he would with Sylmae. He supposed in a way, he did. He simply had to die to do so. It was terrifying, though, even to the great tiger who feared so slim, who had waged wars against clans and had experienced so much gore and gruesome pain. Dying was scary.


    "But, hey, you don't have to worry about that," The tiger spoke in a lighter tone, moving to brush the other's pelt with his shoulder in comfort while walking. "I mean, if I saved you from a killer vending machine, I think you'll manage to survive for quite a long time so long as I'm here." He said with a gentle smile. "But I can't promise I won't totally kill you in laser tag again. I mean, that was just embarrassing for you, Bullet."
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    info — updated 12/27

    [fancypost borderwidth= 0px; line-height: 14px; border-radius: 0px; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; width: 450px]"Heh, so am I." Cotton was glad he didn't remember much of what had happened, for if he did, he would not be able to get past it. He didn't comment on what Bane had said earlier, either. "I didn't want to come back." That meant Bane had gone somewhere.. Bane had died. Cottonfawn wasn't sure if he could handle the other dying again, for he had already experienced it once. The time when Sylmae sunk her claws into the tiger's neck while she was possessed. The boy wasn't sure if had forgiven her for that, yet. A nagging voice in the back of his head told him to let it go, that it wasn't the girl's fault, but.. he couldn't. Not yet, anyways. Time tends to heal wounds, but sometimes they end up festering and becoming infected. Cotton didn't know that Sylmae was alive as well; perhaps when he finds out things can be fixed.


    As the older brushed against his side, a smile found it's way back onto his maw. "Wow, thanks. I feel safer already! And please, Machine, that was a one time occurrence." He nudged the other's shoulder with his head, a wolfish grin replacing his smile. The idea of having Wolfsbane around regularly was a strange one, but hope flared up in the boy's chest. Perhaps he would be able to visit the other in Shadowclan and vice versa. He knew that he really shouldn't be thinking too far ahead into the future and that he should be enjoying the now, but the lupine couldn't help himself. "How's Shadowclan? I've.. never actually been there before."
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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width:500px; text-align:justify; font-size:10pt]bumping this for myself- lemme know if cotton is still active!!
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    info — updated 01/12