TRNDSTTR // open + joining

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    crowpaw was very, very far from home. it wasn't like him to wander, especially outside the territory, but on his first time out of camp he'd been left behind by his mentor and had somehow found himself lost. after a few hours of aimless wandering he'd found himself standing on the edge of riverclan's border. he stood there for a while, half-hoping someone would come by to stop him, that a patrol would turn up to show him that his clanmates had noticed he was gone and cared. but nobody came. he'd started to feel bad at that point. the sun was dipping perilously close to the horizon and crow knew it was only a matter of time before the dusk patrol, so with a quiet and resigned sigh he slipped out of riverclan territory and into thunderclan. he couldn't stand being in a clan where no one knew he existed. finchpaw was dead. larkpaw acted like he wanted to forget crowpaw every time they made eye contact. his other siblings weren't any better, although they were nicer about it. crowpaw didn't look like an emotional feline; his face and eyes showed only the barest hints of feeling and his selective muteness didn't help. that didn't mean he wasn't emotional though. in fact, crowpaw was sure he felt things stronger than a big chunk of the clan cats. after all, he'd never seen anyone display the painful amounts of rage and sorrow and loneliness that currently churned his stomach. he felt each and every wave of abandonment that washed over his body, but still his blank and unfeeling expression refused to change. he hated himself for that.


    he'd been quick on his way through thunderclan. it'd be no good if he were caught. they'd just send him right back home with a good scolding, and at that moment the last thing crowpaw wanted was to go home. maybe they would have let him stay if he'd asked, but he was looking for a clan a little further away from the riverbanks where he was born. a cloud of black smoke suddenly hit him like a stone to the head, and he coughed as the harsh smell of car fumes attacked three of his five senses. he blinked his stinging eyes, spat the foul taste out his mouth and swayed a little as he was ripped from his memories back into reality.


    oh, right. he was in an unfamiliar place. it didn't look anything like the river or forest. hard stone-like material scratched his paws, and the smell of something unnatural hung in the air. crowpaw's legs trembled and he leaned against a wall, lifting one of his paws and licking at its raw, bleeding paw pad. he was leaving little red spots behind him as he walked, no doubt a side effect of walking for so far after staying in camp his whole life. maybe staying in riverclan as a living shadow would be better than starving to death in some cold and scary place, crowkit thought. adrenaline wore off and his legs crumpled, sending him straight to the ground. a slope in the pavement caused him to tumble a little, piercing his side on a piece of shattered glass. the boy was too tired to react, falling limp and allowing his eyelids to droop as a throbbing pain bloomed in a spot right beneath his ribs. it wasn't a life threatening wound, unless infection caught a hold of him, but there was no way crow could remove the glass himself. he was going to die there, in a sharp and harsh place, and no one knew where he was. no one cared enough to want to.

    [ ooc ] rushed at end since i need to sleep

    Nikolaos had never personally been close to his family. It wasn't out of any tragic reason either. His siblings tolerated him and Nikolaos tolerated his siblings, but nowadays the bombay wasn't even sure if they were still alive. Good for them, he supposed. It didn't really matter to the yellow-eyed male. He lived his life the way he intended, and so did his family. Of course, the tom had always been aware that he was a little different from other felines but it wasn't anything that labeled him as an outcast. He was just like everyone else, near ordinary, but far too emotionally controlled. He was calm and collected, resourceful and somewhat polite. He'd have made the perfect forest cat if it weren't for his ridiculous lack of morals. As far as Nikolaos was concerned, he didn't need them. Murder, kidnapping, torture - they were all necessary for scientific advancements. Nikolaos only had so many moons to live so stalling wasn't an option. Yet most cats didn't seem to understand his rather heavy reasoning, most cats refused to accept it. It was probably why Nikolaos had stayed in BloodClan his whole life.

    Of course, things happened. Fate struck him like the piercing trident of a sea god, seeping beneath his flesh the same way his claws dug underneath the skin of his prisoners. Freya was dead. He worked briefly with her corpse, hiding the scent with lavender and avoiding her eyes. Taboa wanted to bury her, Nikolaos had cried. He didn't mean to cry. He promised his sister he wasn't capable of such a feat, but love was a funny thing. For so long he had thought the emotions were born from a particular mindset that turned on when one wanted a chance. Had Nikolaos been looking for romance? The very thought made his throat crawl, as if pushing back his last meal to touch his tongue with the fire of his acids. After that he told the BloodClanners who were looking for the elite guard that she was dead. There was a trembling undertone to his usual smooth voice, as if his normal gentlemanly charisma was shuddering from the frostbite of reality. To be honest, he was more upset that he was affected in the first place. He had always told himself to keep a distance.

    Previously staying detached from his brethren had been easy. The only cat who seemed to notice him was the infamous maine coon of BloodClan, Sheogorath. He recognised Nikolaos' study of herbs and anatomy, and noticed that the scrawny male was not as useless as most BloodClanners first assumed. But the attention had never been good for him. Sheogorath asked him ridiculous things, and Nikolaos wasn't sure if he liked the company of the former leader. Maybe, inside, he secretly did, yet the feelings had never blossomed far. Things changed when the male returned from his farm expedition. He was met by a dainty lilac point, a fem who greeted him. At first he didn't think much of her, but she had also happened to be the first feline to ever enter his bomb shelter. Well - to be precise - the first feline who wasn't a prisoner to enter his bomb shelter he called his laboratory. Like Sheogorath, she was fascinated, but she never tried to use him for jokes. There was a spark in her icy gaze, a spark that seemed to accept him. He never expected to love her, nor did he expect to love Taboa. He hadn't exactly realised the three of them all happened to have some kind of mutual attraction to each other, buzzing and waiting for something to happen.

    His thoughts and memories decimated when his golden hues caught a black figure in the distance. At first, he mistook the tiny form to have been a cat from very far away but the proximity of the boy's scent told the tom otherwise. He gave a half-hearted sniff, whiffing the scent to catch the oily odour of fish. Taboa had been planning to raid the Clan for weeks but had changed her mind to raiding SkyClan, a clan that was much closer to the city than RiverClan. Nikolaos quickly noticed the blood, nearly drowning out the metallic smell because of how often the healer had to handle it. He guessed it was an injured kit, or an apprentice - he didn't really care when he spoke up and lazily told the boy: "Stay there." It seemed like the kid was a little far from their main camp, but Nikolaos knew this area well. There were gardens nearby and he could grab the herbs from there. Although Nikolaos noticed that the kit-apprentice wasn't exactly struggling, he had said so to ensure the feline wouldn't rasp and spring onto his paws and run. He needed to remove the glass, but first disappeared to collect various herbs before returning and carefully attempting to grip the shard with his teeth and slide it out. When it was out, he'd chew various herbs into a poultice and apply them to his wounds before sealing them with cobwebs he'd found while picking herbs. As he worked, the tom managed to murmur a brief question: "What's a kid like you doing out here anyway?"

    The post was edited 1 time, last by Soap ().

    //no problem <3
    forgive me for any typos pls i have the same problem as you lmao


    crowpaw was a stranger to pain. or, he had been until his spontaneous journey outside the river. he'd had the odd tumble or bee sting, but the small tom had never been in a situation dire enough to build his pain tolerance up to a level that could prepare him for his trip into bloodclan. maybe he should have played with the other kits more? now that he was old enough, he could see the benefits to all the play fighting he'd seen the other young cats partake in. maybe if crowpaw had done more than just watch all the time, he'd be strong enough to handle the consequences of what he'd done. thoughts like that were the ones drifting idly through his mind as he lay there on the slightly damp ground. they were hazy, like the air on a cold winter morning. almost palpable. was that water seeping into his fur? the sharp metallic smell told him it was something much more sinister. his dull eyes were unfocused, but he still had enough life left in him to notice the figure coming closer. crowpaw half expected nikolaos to walk past him, like the others had, so when he didn't the feline couldn't help but narrow his eyes almost questioningly at the other male.


    his response was an order that crowpaw had no intention of disobeying. where else could he go? it was impossible for the black feline to navigate bloodclan's territory with any accuracy. the anfractuous streets were much like the dreams he'd had as a kit. confusing, seemingly spontaneous and without meaning. the walls that towered around him on all sides but one were frightening and foreign, and crowkit couldn't fathom why they existed. they didn't seem to be constructed by natural forces, but what did he know? he was barely old enough to no longer be considered a kit. there was much in life that he hadn't yet seen. he watched as the older feline left him, a new, less literal kind of coldness wracking his small form. was the bombay going to come back? perhaps his request had been nothing more than a cruel joke. he'd heard terrible things about cats from other clans, so perhaps the thought wasn't too outlandish at all.

    an ache in the back of his eyes seemed intent on telling him how tired he was, and he wished he could shut everything off. he could already tell by the weakness in his legs, the heaviness of his head. he didn't need another pain to tell him that he was an idiot. pain. the same feeling that set all the nerves of his left side alight. it was growing more and more vexatious as the seconds ticked by and the adrenaline that'd protected him for so long was sifted fully from his blood. despite how non-threatening his wounds were, they invaded the entirety of his consciousness. it was soon all he could think about, and it was only then that tears glossed over his already stinging eyes. he wept softly to himself, his tears half angry and half something he couldn't quite place yet.


    it continued like that for what felt like hours, but must have been nothing more than mere minutes. approaching pawsteps prompted crowpaw to open eyes he hadn't realised he had closed, and he gazed up at the almost familiar face of nikolaos. he said nothing, and neither did crowpaw, although the latter shifted slightly to allow nikolaos better access when he realised that the healer was attempting to remove the glass that'd lodged itself in his soft skin. the only indication the ex-riverclanner gave that he was in pain was the hushed but sharp breath he took as the shard was pulled from his body. a new batch of tears threatened to spill over his eyelids, but he miraculously managed to hold them back. he had to stop being weak. the sudden cool of herbs shocked him, small body jolting at the unwelcome sensation of herbs against his wound. it was a little soothing, taking away the hot pulsing, but it still stung. the feline above him was saying something, and crow started listening in time to catch the last half of nikolaos' inquiry. with that, he managed to piece together what he'd said. crowpaw didn't want to talk, but this was an important situation, he supposed. he could bring himself to talk in important situations.

    "...ran away." he muttered, something akin to shame lacing his words. "i didn't know where to go," his voice was so croaky, like the frogs he'd chased when he was little. the thought would be amusing if not for the circumstances. crow didn't want to say anything more than necessary, but there was a question tugging at his mind. he hadn't smelled any scent markers during his time in the city, so he wasn't sure whether or not he was still in a clan territory. "where am i?"

    He worked quietly, twitching his nose as his eyes became accustomed by the injuries he had to work with. The state of the boy's paw's told him a few, rather simple things. The child had gone a long way, perhaps too long for a child his age. When the male told him that he had ran away, he merely gave a robotic dip of his head. A runaway boy (hurr hurr). It reminded him briefly of Ai when the pain in his ribs returned. Freya was dead, he couldn't seem to release the thought. It'd gripped him so tight that even the thought of her adoptive daughter seemed to sprout some new kind of misery. But the male forcefully pushed his emotions aside, clearing away the haze to remember his apprentice's story. Some forest cats, as the scientist had come to learn, were worse than BloodClanners. Had the kid been abused? He blinked, efficiently dressing the wounds before him and patching the stranger with the cobwebs he had snatched. He didn't say anything when the child spoke, steadying his breaths as he listened. Nikolaos was good at listening. Sometimes he felt the urge to butt in and interrupt, but he was nevertheless a good listener and observer. It didn't take much effort for him to clamp his mouth shut.

    "The city," he replied with a bland drawl, stretching his tail with a lax yawn as he comfortably finished what felt like a practice. Nikolaos merely glanced past the fog with unwavering orbs, hearing the blare of cars in the distance as he added: "Or whatever you wish to call it." Although he got the feeling Crowpaw was aware that he had made his way into the grey, bustling city the Clans avoided. Twolegs could be dangerous despite their inelegant nature, he supposed. But Nikolaos quickly got the feeling that the boy wanted something more specific. He didn't look too old, too young to know every territory by scent and name. Perhaps too young to have ever been taught why forest cats avoided the city. "BloodClan resides here, if that was the answer you were looking for." Sometimes cat ought to be more specific. It was easy to misunderstand such simple questions, but Nikolaos was aware that they didn't own the entire area. The city belonged to its twolegs and monsters, its kittypets and plump pigeons - not just BloodClan.

    The bombay, without a second thought had stood up, as if about to walk away when his paws felt stiff. The same numbness to his limbs reminded him quickly of the events of Freya's death. He almost thought he couldn't walk, as if he were frozen by the disbelief that shrouded and wrapped across his coat. He felt the grooves of his teeth press in place, eyes darting heavily through the mist. If the boy had run away, then it clearly meant he didn't want to be returned to RiverClan. Most clanners, in this case, would have encouraged the feline to return to their Clan. But BloodClan was BloodClan. "If you can walk then come with me," the male said, laced with a tone of nonchalance, "I'll take you to our camp." Although Nikolaos was a rather friendly tom, he didn't exactly have any plans in growing close to the former RiverClanner. He would rather not lose someone else important. He'd already learned his lesson.

    crowpaw was thankful that nikolaos wasn't the talkative type. he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle someone hovering over him and asking one hundred question per minute. crowkit fell silent after uttering his hushed question, and didn't speak again even after the bloodclanner had finished patching up his wounds. he just stared blankly at nikolaos, not letting out as much as a sniffle. the herbs and cobwebs weren't exactly comfortable against the matted curls of his fur, but crowpaw wasn't one to complain. this down to earth stranger had just done him a great favour, after all.


    'the city', he heard him say, and crowpaw remembered all the tales he'd heard as a kit. elders often talked of fierce city cats, who ate kits for breakfast and sharpened their claws on bone. crowpaw had always thought they were nothing more than stories told to scare kits into behaving. turns out there were such cats after all. nikolaos didn't seem all that interested in eating him, but crowpaw told himself that there was hardly anything to eat. without his fur he'd look like a walking bundle of twigs. still, somehow he doubted that was the main reason he wasn't currently being torn apart. nikolaos talked again, uttering another half-familiar name. memories of hushed conversations he'd managed to overhear flirted with the edge of his mind, just out of reach. he'd heard the name bloodclan before, although never in a good light. the scary stories he'd heard about city cats and a clan so drenched in blood they made it their namesake were one in the same, then. it all made sense in a way.


    crowpaw's dull grey eyes watched as the bombay stood and paused. he was waiting for nikolaos to say something, but still flicked an ear with a sense of surprise as he did. crowpaw didn't even nod, although he managed to struggle to his paws. he felt like a floundering fish that'd just been thrown up onto the riverbank. the spikes of pain that shot through his paws as they made contact with the ground didn't help. he wasn't sure what he was doing, walking willingly into bloodclan's camp, especially as injured as he was. maybe he hoped all the other members were as kind as nikolaos had been to him, that he could find a place where he was liked despite his quietness. he limped slowly after the medic, pausing every now and then to catch his breath.

    //this is terrible but i wanted to get it done + opening now!

    Freya's death didn't haunt him the same way it did everyone else. While Wisteria had been conscious of her closeness to his mother and Nikolaos, someone he considered a friend, the tabby did not grieve her the same way. He more so grieved for his mother's loss; he could feel her agony as though it was his own, piercing into his heart like a thorn. He couldn't imagine how she went on through the day suffering such pain. It was one of the many mysteries of the world.


    The child, maneuvering through the alleyways, sighed softly as his pale eyes flickered upwards. The sun still glared down with the heat of day, something he didn't mind too much given his short fur. It did hurt to walk on, however, so he regularly had to come to Nikolaos for burnt pads needing aloe treatments. He was a little surprised the healer wasn't sick of him by this point. Wisteria wondered if it was because they shared a certain fascination with how things functioned. Together, they would perform experiments on rats and further understand the functions of creatures. However, the light blue cat found himself growing bored, or perhaps impatient, with their progress recently. He'd begun hunting bigger alternatives, though he hadn't yet moved on to cats. That was a matter of time, of course, though he felt it would come sooner than later.


    A new scent paused him in his tracks, giving him a bit of an edge. Frowning lightly, the cat moved to investigate, ducking further through the territory until he reached where Nikolaos and Crowpaw were headed in the direction of camp. Crowpaw, however, carried the scent of RiverClan - something Wisteria did not enjoy. The fact he was taken into camp without harm meant he was likely here of peaceful means, though one could never be certain. Blinking meaningfully, Wisteria tipped his head to one side and gazed expectantly at Nik, effectively asking, "Who is this?"

    Nikolaos didn't have an issue with Wisteria. The boy was interesting. When other felines shared a fascination for anatomy or his work, he was admittedly pretty content. It didn't make him feel alienated or alone. After all, no matter how hard the scientist tried to ignore his need for contact and socialisation, it was a necessary aspect of his life. His communication skills were heavily undeveloped, and most days he could hardly tell how a cat was feeling, but Nikolaos was well aware that it wouldn't help him one bit if he spent time by himself in his laboratory every day. But his nonchalant gaze shifted comfortably onto the tabby's form. Hm. "He's coming to stay for a bit," Nikolaos said softly, but he was aware that the RiverClanner had never voiced any interest in joining fully as a BloodClanner. "But he's currently too exhausted to prove his loyalty to us just yet. I'll have him rest outside." He would greatly hope the apprentice didn't say anything that would ruin the kid's chances of survival. "What did they call you anyway; Blackpaw, Sheeppaw, Crowpaw, Ravenpaw...?"

    ★ ★ ★ -- The leader was wandering the streets aimlessly as familiar scents flooded her nostrils, something foreign lingering in the smell. Curious, the calico followed the trail, stepping forward to meet the sight of her healer and a curious cat. Her questions (most of them, anyway), her answered when Nikolaos spoke up.


    Smoldering amber eyes flickered curiously to the apprentice beside him. Nikolaos has already asked of the tom's name, harassing the tom with information about BloodClan likely wasn't going to do anything; the male was staying here. For however long, she didn't no. Maybe it was temporary.

    tags

    wisteria's arrival put crowpaw on edge. he stopped walking, blank gaze locked on the new face. thankfully, nikolaos explained his presence for him so he wouldn't have to talk himself. the healer started listing names and crowpaw dipped his head in a nod as his name was mentioned. it was a little funny that clan names were so predictable. he couldn't care less what these bloodclanners called him, though. they could give him a completely new name for all he cared.


    he was starting to get a little restless when taboa appeared, although he gave no indication of his growing impatience. he merely cast his gaze downwards and dipped his head in the formal sort of half-bow he'd seen clanmates preform when they greeted someone they weren't close to.

    His eyes quickly caught the boy's dip of his head. Crowpaw. It made enough sense to him and he wondered if the child intended to keep his clan name or not. It didn't really matter to Nikolaos though. Names were just names. But the silence that traveled within the next few moments made glancing at others a little awkward. His eyes skimmed past Taboa's form, giving her a small smile before returning his gaze to the dark furred tom. Crow probably could have been mistaken for his son, but Nikolaos had never considered children. Although he thought of adopting Ai, he was still in the process of trying to make sense with himself. "He's still quite young so I'll take care of him and make sure nothing happens," the scientist offered for plot purposes. But then he glanced back at Crowpaw, "You're okay with that, right?"

    Pale eyes met Nikolaos's, tail twitching to distract himself faintly from the noise as he listened to the words of the healer. So this cat was a joiner? Interesting. Wisteria supposed it would be nice to have a lackey for a while until Crowpaw was officially integrated into the clan. Tilting his head as the name of the newcomer was requested, he noted how Crowpaw merely confirmed his name with a nod, piquing his interest. The light gray tabby briefly wondered if this cat was like himself: selectively mute. However, he doubted Crowpaw was plagued by the disorder Wisteria had, which involved complete shut-down mode whenever any loud noise occurred, including the use of his own voice. No, that was his curse alone.


    Turning his head back to Crowpaw, the young member of BloodClan dipped his head in greeting, waving his tail to signal his welcome to the clan. Hopefully the dark cat would understand that was his manner of attempting friendship. Wisteria, due to his lack of social skills, didn't have many friends within the clan. He had Nikolaos and Taboa, but his mother didn't truly count. It would be nice if he could manage another friend.

    crowpaw's watchful eyes found those of nikolaos, and he nodded again at his question. he thought he could grow to like the healer, fond of his calm disposition. he'd taken the time to notice crowpaw, to talk to him, and that was enough to make the apprentice almost happy. how odd that he found comfort in bloodclan, of all places.


    he noticed wisteria shift his attention back to him and turned to maintain eye contact, catching the nod and wave of the tail. crowpaw blinked slowly, mirroring the actions after a short pause. he'd never met another mute feline before. maybe wisteria, too, wasn't worthy of words? perhaps crowpaw wasn't alone in the prison he'd constructed around himself, weaved of his brother's words and locked with a key he knew he could reach, but didn't quite want to. it was an odd feeling. bloodied white paws shifted as he looked back at nikolaos, wondering when they were going to start moving again. he could still feel his legs trembling beneath him, although the subtle movements were probably obscured from his new companions by the thick curls of black fur that fell around them.