nobody's son [o, joining]

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    Slate-hued visionaries transfixed themselves upon the urban horizon, deep-set eyes of habitual perceptiveness shadowed beneath a prominent brow slid back and forth across the grimy concrete, feathering across the bluest shadows and tracing along the golden highlights. Ahead of him walked Nagahide and his diluted sapphire eyes with an established habit glazed over his partner's brown tabby patterning and rooting out a bit of comfort knowing they were here. The writhing sickness within his body pushed against his eyeballs and the soft parts of his face- he was sensitive under his eyes now and the thought of having to deal with a contract in this condition chagrined him deeply. His chest burned with every inhale of the putrid city air and he was finding it hard to track down these other city-dwellers in this terribly weakened state. He felt... pathetic.


    For once in a long time he felt as though life was out of his paws- he and his partner weren't in control of the situation as they usually are. It seemed it was their job to seek out help this time.. and it made him uncomfortable. Hopefully he'd find some amenity knowing they were only on the asking end because of this sickness and soon they would be commanding the interactions once more. And so he padded, onwards, the sun blanketing their backs in a tangerine warmth that he really wished he could escape right now. He squinted against the bright of the concrete. They'd better have medicine


    /hey all! pls wait for nagahide <3 <3 i know its not long but im like. conserving the muse.

    This wasn't what was supposed to happen. Not now, not ever. They'd always been alone, they'd always survived without the need for others. They'd been able to deal with all that life had thrown at them by themselves. But, this sickness wasn't something either of them had ever dealt with. Nothing that they could cure. Thus, in fear of Wakefeild's life they'd determined that it was in their best interest to seek out the clans. They'd had contracts with the clans many times, but they'd never before seen within. The one thing they did know, however, was that they knew how to deal with this sickness. They could cure Wakesfeild. They could keep him alive.


    It was somewhat hypocritical that Nagahide cared more for Wakefeild's life than their own. Nevertheless, their dynamic worked, it had worked for moons on end. "We'll be there soon," the tabby spoke, reassurance clear in their silvery voice as they looked back upon their partner, ice eyes holding some kind of pathetic desperation. They didn't want it to show, but it was apparent that they were quite worried for Wakefeild. With such a young physicality Nagahide didn't seem like an adult at all, thus one may've assumed Wakefeild to be their parent, but Naga would say that they cared equally for one another -- even if they never admitted it. Thus, the small tabby was overjoyed to find the main border that ran about BloodClan's territory. It symbolized hope to the assassin. If they were accepted, that was.


    "Hello? Is anyone home?," Nagahide called out into the frosty air, their voice maintaining it's stability despite the loud volume emitted. During any normal circumstance Naga wouldn't likely raise their voice. But, when it came to Wakefeild, there was nothing Nagahide wouldn't do. Stopping in their tracks Nagahide anxiously flipped their tail about, near ready to get up once more and pace. Neither of them were at their prime. Nagahide, an anxious mess, Wakefeild, a incapacitated mess, surely BloodClan would want neither of them.


    CALEDON.

    WASPWING.


    tags 〄 tba

    The post was edited 3 times, last by nagahide ().

    They would be surprised - Bloodclan took in all kinds of strays. Case in point, the first to find them is Janna - who looks as little like a fearsome predator or warrior that it could be possible to be. Small in stature, missing an eye from torture and still carrying herself like she simply wanted to be small, unnoticeable, like she just wanted to fade. Perhaps if the idea that they would be rejected worried them, then a cat that seemed as pathetic and miserable as Janna would be a good indicator to their odds of success.


    "Is he alright?" Is the first question that leaves her mouth, instead of answering their own. Her presence her shows that straight away there are people her, and between a cat that looks as old as her and one that looked as if he had something that might be contagious. "You're approaching Bloodclan territory, I hope you have no intentions of infecting us. If you join us though, our healers can help you." Our healers, not Janna. She has a hunch what he's ill with, given the season and the cold creeping in to take whatever it pleased from cats such as them. That being said, she has no authority to give treatment here and no herbs to offer help with.


    She already stole some to help herself, her luck wasn't going to be pushed to help another.


    ❝ CRY POWER ❞ Slowhand was the one that always seemed to be around when there were people looking to join. He didn't mind it much at first but he was growing a tad annoyed as of late. Not because of all the newcomers but because of his sister's recent jabs. The guard often didn't let insults get to him but coming from his sibling it kind of hurt. Nonetheless the young tom would always play it off with a smile. That's how it always was. Nobody ever seemed to suspect that something was wrong. Nobody would want to listen. Not that he would tell them. He wasn't the type to tell other people about his problems. He didn't open up to other people as often as it seemed.


    Slinking up beside Janna he pressed his nose into her shoulder in silent greeting before raising his head to stare at the newcomers. He could smell the sickness on them causing his nose to wrinkle just a bit. It may have smelled rancid but it was nowhere near as bad as Luna's feasting room when the meat began to decay. It was still bad enough for him to internally cringe. Slowhand refrained from making himself comfortable as he would turn and get Waspwing if they were joining

    His eyes fell upon his partner as he turned around, to regard Wake with an almost-thoughtful expression veiled beneath a cold mask of desperation. He spoke, lips moving to form a few words that Wake was able to pick out as 'we'll be there soon', thankful he'd mouthed it so clearly for him to dissect. He have a small nod and stifled a cough in the wake of another sensitive breath. Finally they came to a stop, and he could see that Naga was calling something out by the way his sides rose and fell with every word. He kept his gaze trained on the horizon, picking out any movement that arose from the scenery.


    He spotted a longhaired feline melt from the palette of grey and blue and gold. Wake sat behind Nagahide, his expression almost entirely stony as he looked upon the stranger, gaze piercing past his translator and glaring towards the other's mouth. 'is he okay?' she worded. She then spoke more and he could decipher from the movements of her mouth that she was talking about Bloodclan and they had healers. He was still fairly in the dark but took solace knowing Naga would explain everything for them both.

    'Lavender'


    That was the first thing to come to mind as Nagahide took in the sight of the long-haired feline which had replied to their call not long after it had been made. She was approximately the name size as Naga, as far as they could tell. The scarring over the female's ocular wasn't the sightliest thing, yet that wasn't what they were concerned about in the first place. What did peak Naga's interest was mention of a healer.


    'We'll have to join them.'


    The thought buzzed through the mackerel tabby's cranium as they looked back towards Wakefeild once more. If he didn't get help this could prove fatal to the bengal, something which Naga would've live to see. The last time Naga themselves had been healed it'd been done by a two-legged healer, never before had they entrusted a cat to care for their health; but, at this point there were no other viable options.


    With a slight jingle of their tagged collar Naga turned towards the new presence amongst. They spoke no words, yet they were immensely larger than their previous acquaintance. A chain around it's neck and piercing bright green eyes, that, and the rather noticeable missing leg. This clan was a bit more beat up than Naga had originally thought. Was everyone here torn to shreds? Would that be their fate as well? The thought of leaving quickly made it's way in and out of Naga's mind. They couldn't leave, there wasn't enough time to find another option.


    "He's sick," stated the feline quite simply, breathing out as they spoke in attempt to calm their rapid nerves. "We came here to have him healed, nothing more; but, if we have to join in order to receive aid we will," 'Anything to keep him alive'. There was no life that Naga knew without Wakefeild, and they were determined to keep it as such, wether Wake agreed or not was up to him.


    tags 〄 plots

    [image='2837','original'][/image]

    She sat on a normal perch. Just high enough to gaze over the sky, yet still a respectable place. It was a fire-escape. The sides were growing holes and the parts of the metal turned a rusted brown colour, but Jailbird wasn’t surprised. In her moons of being in the Blood House, she hadn’t seen it fixed up by twolegs. It made her stay on the side of the large building much more comfortable.


    Letting her eyes slowly trail down the ladder and to the horizon the giant grimalkin found her oceanic hues glued on the small group of pelts not too far away. Jailbird exhaled, her breath spilling down and out her maw, slithering between her teeth like water, before collecting at her nose and tickling her tufted auditors. Squinting, she noticed the sand tabby and slender frame as it of Slowhand. The younger guard turned around a sharp corner before reappearing on the other side where he confronted the duo. She knew one thing, and that was that they weren’t BloodClanners. The former Deputy knew everyone, even the ones she wished she...didn’t know.


    Pushing her large bodice up she then slithered down the ladder. Lightly her large paws fell to the floor with such grace of a ballet dancer on her final concert. Yet she slunk through the darkness like a demon, footsteps silent. She was no longer an angel, quickly slipping into this mode. It was like she floated above the asphalt, transparent to the world around her. Her transparent thalassic specticals glanced around, lanterns spying the surrounding area as she turned the corner. She caught sigh of the group which had gathered.

    Her gray antler ears dawned over her head like pinnacles. She hushed, breath merely sloth like inhales. Sick... Jailbird became worries at the thought, her neck fur puffing slightly at the mere thought. Someone could get sick. Someone already was... She’d heard of how Fern was sick. Now the whole clan could get sick.


    She stepped out of the shadows bodice emerging like she was one of the shadows it’s self, blue pelt alighting with light, showing off her muscular and tall form. “Who are you two?” Her heavy voice called out, accent tipping her words lightly, voice firm and warm yet deep and husky with an unpardarelled perceptive smart second star to the right straight on till morning. Talons unsheathes from their shelters as they pricked the harsh concrete. She moved closer, pillars of pure weaponry pulling her forwards, nails clicking on the floor like a snap of spurs, demanding attention. She turned to the group. “Someone fetch Caledon or Ruth. And get Waspwing while you’re at it,” her bobbed tail bounced as she gave the order before returning her bright blue gaze to the two. One looked unhealthy, the other was the one she noted taking the talking. “What’s wrong with him.” She meowed, nodding her head to the silent tom, “cat got his tongue?” She internally chuckled at the small joke, lanterns lighting up with amusement.


    [ CALEDON. WASPWING. WILLOWPAW. ]


    Stats.

    ✦ ✧ ✦ Waspwing had appeared at the mention of her name, black fur dotted with snow as she appeared on the scene. She smelt strongly of herbs, the scent sharp to even her nose as she came to stand beside Jailbird, giving her a quick bow of her head in greeting. Joiners, hmm? Waspwing could smell the sick rolling off of the silent one, the other speaking up and informing them all that their friend was sick. Friend? Maybe, she hadn't been around to hear the backstory of the two, if there had been one given to begin with. The healer had a bit of a bleeding heart for the sick and injured, despite being in Bloodclan. Maybe it was the forest cat in her, but she would always have sympathy for those that were ill and couldn't heal themselves.


    "Do you know what's wrong with them?" Waspwing inquired softly, yellow gaze glancing between Nagahide and Wakefield.

    He observed with a calculating slate-colored gaze as more felines approached, casting their curious glances in his direction, judging. Inferring. No doubt wondering why he'd been silent the entire exchange. Part of him didn't want to give them the satisfaction of knowing he had a disability- but regardless he didn't really care what they thought. He knew himself how capable he was and none of their internal judgemental thoughts could convince him he was anything less than deadly when he needed to be. He gave a sniff, his eyes unmoving from the black smoke- she smelled strongly of herbs, and without reluctance he lifted his paw to tap on Naga's shoulder.


    With raised eyebrows he lifted his paw to his muzzle, gesturing swiftly towards the others before drawing his paw across his throat and subtly lifting his paw into a scooping motion. His movements habitual and casual, he would gently tap his chest then cross his forearms before grinding both his paws together. It would translate into Tell them I'll die if I don't get medicine. His swift movements were practically indecipherable to an untrained eye and he'd take comfort knowing they couldn't decipher it themselves.

    The deputy followed Waspwing to the scene and moved to stand with her littermates. She offered a smile to Janna and Slowhand before focusing on the newcomers that reeked of sickness. Her nose wrinkled and she eyed them. While she wanted to extend the help Waspwing and Aleksei could give them, should they really risk bringing the sickness to BloodClan? Perhaps she would have the healer and her apprentice quarantine their newcomers until they were better and no longer a threat to BloodClan's health. Dark eyes watched the interaction between healer and strangers. Her gaze focused particularly on the one who did not use words to communicate, but rather a serious of arm movements directed towards his traveling companion. What was he doing? Ruth's tufted ears flicked, a frown tugging at her maw.


    "Waspwing can offer you help, but I don't want you coming close to any of my Clanmates. This leafbare is harsh and we cannot afford getting sick ourselves," she told the one who could speak, bobbed tail flicking behind her. They had already given SkyClan and ThunderClan extra prey and herbs. Resources were low and Ruth often spent most of her free time hunting to make up for what had been given to the forest Clans. With not as much to support their own members, sickness could be a detriment. BloodClan had already lost much recently. Sheogorath, Dualeyes, and now Mary. Ruth shook the thought away. "I'm sure Waspwing will allow you to stay in the Greenhouse, away from the rest of the Clan," she added, glancing at their healer.

    — information —

    'So many questions.'


    Naga at times wished everyone would keep to themselves. Truly having to speak for two people was a bit too much for the tabby feline at times. As a kittypet Naga was never forced to tell anyone anything. Really, nobody wanted to hear from them at all. And with Wakefeild, well, Wakefeild didn't really ask him for much. Thus, being surrounded by all these daunting felines wasn't exactly up Naga's alley, nevertheless he had to succeed.


    "He's, ugh, deaf," spoke the collared loner with a flick of his smooth tail, a faint stutter forming in his voice as the boundless amount of information shot his way. At this point Naga wasn't quite sure who was speaking. Just cats upon cats. Usually with the deals they made they were only speaking to one person at a time, Naga had just become used to it. "I'm not sure...," the ex-kittypet began to lower his head in thought before they felt a tap on their shoulder. 'Wakefeild. Right, this is about him.' Lifting his head and turning to see the subtle motions Wakefeild made Naga nodded along to the rather grim message. It seemed as though Wakefeild had words where Naga couldn't find any, much like the fabled situation of those who finished each other's sentences. "He says he'll likely die if he doesn't get medicine. He's been coughing so much lately and it's getting harder for him to breathe," the young-looking feline nearly shivered at the thought of Wake dying. He just couldn't. No matter how much Naga enjoyed the thrill of a kill, he couldn't enjoy this. No matter how much the two said they weren't attached to one another, it was clear that there was something more there than ordinary acquaintance.


    "We'll stay away from the clan. Just, please make sure he'll live," Naga voiced, his blue eyes meeting those which seemed to be of the most authority here -- a young she-cat. Even if they had to stay away from the clan it was much better than dying. Even stooping this low to ask for help was quite a big step down from what they had made themselves out to be. Nevertheless, they'd get through this, they always did.


    tags 〄 plots