Posts by Benjamin.

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; border: 0px;][justify]It felt like a dream to him. The ability to not open his eyes and see what was familiar made him think that it was all fake. It wasn't real. He felt as if it'd started when someone had dragged him off DarkClan's territory through the snow, eventually knocking him out for the trip. The girl, her pack — none of them had been real. Soon enough he was going to jolt upright, probably knocking his skull against something in the process. Panicking. In the back of his head Benjamin knew it wasn't like that at all. It was all real. Christ. The pain. It brought him into reality. It told him it was real. The shocking forced him to feel awake, the aching that traveled throughout his face and into his head — down his spine and through his veins. He'd never really fallen asleep, it was hard for him to distinguish between being awake and falling away. He was afraid to even try. Maybe at one point he had drifted off during the night. It was hard to tell. Waking up to more darkness was something he couldn't * describe. It made him feel afraid. A few times during that night he'd woken up to a start, trying to reach out for air. To breathe. He hadn't necessarily moved then, but had silently widened his jaws in some sort of panic.

By the time Lorraine was awake, he was too — though he was still. Bandaging around his eyes. It made him feel better, as if... he purposefully told himself to believe that he couldn't see anything because of the white tied around his face. That's why it was black, yet he knew if he was to take the bandaging off it'd be the same. There would be nothing but shrouds of ebony and dancing shadows. His eyes were damaged beyond repair. He was remaining still then, listening to the sounds of the coyote. It surprised him — how all of his other senses were amplifying themselves. Almost too much. It caused him to shake as she'd turned away from him. His jaws were parting, sucking in cool air and exhaling. While his lungs were fine, his head told him that they weren't working. He wasn't getting any oxygen. His throat constantly felt like it was constricting and expanding.

She was pressing something wet, a cloth — on his muzzle. Wiping away what blood might've dripped from his wounds. His broken eyes. He did say anything yet. While he was awake, she wouldn't be able to tell. There were no eyes for him to open. There was no way for her to know unless he moved — and for now he was still quiet. Only some time after she was cleaning what dirty crimson was on his face, was he moving his shoulder blades. Twisting his neck hesitantly. There was sudden uneven breathing. Some breaths were shallow, while some were needy. Her paw was resting on his forehead, the touch letting him mumble something inaudible. It was like some sort of whisper, one of thanks. One of gratitude. The pain, from what it seemed felt as if it were drawn from him. Nothing had actually happened, but his head made it seem like it.

She was speaking to him. Her voice was shaky, yet she wasn't crying. Her words caused him to press his lips together in a weaker-state. When she pulled away from him, Ben almost asked her for to come back but his own voice wouldn't work then. His brows just furrowed deeply instead, yet he was momentarily jolting back as a spike of pain returned to him one last time. I don't know. Was what he was almost replying with, but his tongue felt dry. He ended up trying to push himself up into a hunched-sitting position, his paws scrambling on the softer surface for a way to steady himself. It took him a while, and she'd probably protest against it — but he moved anyways. Somewhat leaning against the flimsy bed frame behind him, his head was tilting downwards. Staring into darkness, still. He saw no morning light. He didn't see her face. He wanted to pull himself towards her and tell her it'd be okay. He wanted to look her in the eyes and push himself and embrace her in some hug. Protect them both. Pretend nothing could ever touch them. It was what he did best — it was what he'd been trained to do. Protect. Care for others more than himself. Care for his loved ones more than himself. The lanky wolf would himself noting that he loved Lorraine. He loved her.

The thought remained in his head as he was finally speaking. "Do you know what a traiteur is — Lorraine?" It didn't make sense. He didn't make any goddamn sense. "Cajun healers — they have the... power to take away people's pain." He sounded dazed, moving a paw upwards to touch the side of his head where the bandages were. "I think — you're..." He was taking in a wheezing breath, gritting his teeth togethers as another sudden wave of pain hit him. "...one of em'." The surgeon general was shuffling his paws, maybe it looked like he was about to lose his balance. "They hu-hurt me because they were upset. People do bad things when there's too much grief. Too much hurt in their heart. Can't think straight." Benjamin was dropping his head.

"It's ba-bad, huh?"

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[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; border: 0px;][justify]Benjamin had heard the cussing, the anger-filled voice — pain-filled. It was mostly coming from Bigby, the others were seemingly questioning him. Moving through nothing but darkness, the medic was raising his head and stopping somewhere off to the side. While trying to gain his ground and feel his surroundings, the blind wolf was twisting his neck around with a furrowing of his brows as leftover bandaging draped off the side of his bandaged face. The surgeon general could smell it off of him. Sick. His cloudy mind was drifting back towards what Yuuma had said earlier. Something was spreading. Infection. His heightened senses were picking it out. He'd been able to tell sometimes before when someone was ill... yet, now it was easier. His sight was gone, but everything else was not. His paws were pressing into the cement in an attempt to steady himself further at the thought. Christ. Ben wasn't able to see who was there, but he had heard Righthook. Oprah. What in the world had happened between them all? A training turned into something else momentarily?

"Bigby..." he was letting his words draw out, ears swiveling around. His voice was soft, quiet — still hoarse, but stronger and more aware than it had been. He'd stopped using much, if any pain medication. The lanky canine told himself that he'd had his share of it, despite himself still being in pain. A lot of * pain. The clan needed it more than him, though. There was a strained pause as his jaws came together as he tried to keep himself from inhaling sharply as a shock of agony drew back into his skull from the wounds inflicted on his once-hazel hued eyes. "Can you — come see me after?" Benjamin wasn't an idiot. He saw how the corporal was treating everyone who asked about him. It was better do it off separately. The large wolf appeared to be too stubborn now, and Ben didn't really think he'd be able to stop him from holding the training. "I'll just watc- sit out of this." The kid was rocking back in his own fear of being hit, still on-edge.

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[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; border: 0px;][justify]/quiet track

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[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; border: 0px;][justify]"Can't see *, but maybe I can treat this like some — uh, party. Like I'm blindfolded or some *." Benjamin found himself stumbling forwards towards an unfamiliar voice, his brows furrowing as pain shocked from his wounded eyes back into his head. Christ. There was still a stubbornness in him that forced him to refuse pain medication. With whatever sickness going on, who knew how much of it they'd need. He could manage. Ben found that moving around, constantly focusing on other things took some of the edge off. It was hard to do sometimes though, especially when he couldn't see. He was locked in some sort of darkness all of the time. Bandaging around his eyes draped off his face as it always did, but as they days went on less and less blood bled into his bandages. It was more of like a slow seeping of ruby colors, not at all dramatic as it'd once been. Still burned. Still caused him to feel so much agony. It felt like his face was on fire, especially when he was lying down in an attempt to rest. Sleep had once been rare for him, now it seemed practically nonexistent.

"It ain't the best idea for me to be trying to jump around though, so I'll just — sit here." He found himself rocking back onto his haunches with a sheepish look spreading across his already-pained expression. "Ya' don't sound, uh — familiar. Name's Benjamin, or Ben. You?" At least, on his exterior — he was showing some improvement. His voice was still hoarse, still weak and tired.

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[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; border: 0px;][justify]/ alloy, psh, it was great- do u see this post /boi/

Benjamin probably shouldn't have been close to the border — seeing as it'd been where he'd been dragged off not too long ago. Who knew if they'd come back and rip his throat open instead of just leaving him blinded. He'd witnessed what rage they'd possessed when those they loved passed away. The heart and mind were two different things. They'd acted on impulse. He couldn't question whether those who assaulted him felt guilty now. Guilt. It was what could tie the heart and the head together to make logical decisions. Many lacked that until afterwards though. The skinny wolf tried to shake the images from his head, yet it was hard — as the last thing he'd actually set his once soft hazel eyes on had been a face filled with rage. His thoughts drifted back towards Lorraine in an attempt to distract himself as he stumbled towards the unfamiliar voice. Their territory and surrounding land was off, as in the surrounding area it was the heat that scorched dry soil. But, within the center there was a forest — covered in patches of snow and relatively cold. The temperatures could soar and drop without warning.

He was using his hearing to maneuver around the brush as well as he could, though occasionally his shoulder would ram into the rough runs of a looming tree. "Oof." The medic was releasing some sort of huff, keeping his head down. His breathing was unsteady as pain shocked back into his head again for what seemed the millionth time. Pain medication was something he'd stopped taking for himself. DarkClan needed it. His clanmates needed it more than him. They were getting sick with something he wasn't sure about. At the idea concern distracted himself from the male who stood in front of him. For a while he was quiet as the desert's heat began to touch his own back. It felt good to him, but he could understand that the other was * done with it. During midday or late in the afternoon, if one spent enough time out in it — well... things wouldn't go so well. "Yeah, uh — we've got some shaded territory not far back." It was obvious the now-blind wolf hadn't always been unable to see. "I can grab you some water too." Hell, hopefully. "Name's Benjamin. Ben for short. You?"

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[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; border: 0px;][justify]Benjamin didn't feel good about leaving — of course he didn't. Hell, DarkClan had been home to him. They'd... taken him and his best friend in from the day the two friends had stepped over the border. Things had gotten better for him and Mont, they really had. It'd been some sort of prime for them. There'd been no constant war. Their friends hadn't bled to death every so often. Both of them had seemingly recovered from where they'd previously been. They'd built up a new life and had let cobwebs blow over the old one. He'd been their medic, a role he'd filled for all his life. The canine had liked it for a while, but while he still called it his home — there'd always been a feeling of a need to see more. It was self-centered, it was foolish — it was * stupid. Yet, it was a dream — one Lorraine and him shared in one way or another. The DarkClanners would have to remember that they were so young. Dreams were still there in their heads, despite what trauma the two doctors had witnessed. Scotty had disappeared into thin air along with so many others. He couldn't watch his clanmates die or fall away anymore. The kid had seen already too much of that. It was so goddamn selfish. When Lorraine had spoken up about her ideas, the lanky wolf had agreed. While with his own blindness, looking into new places would be more of a fight for him — he couldn't cope with what was happening in a place he'd loved.

So, in the end — the younger medic had left with Lorraine, someone he loved — someone he internally admitted to loving. Where she went, he would follow. It wasn't just her idea, it'd been both of theirs. Benjamin had listened to her write the note, had asked what it consisted of and had only nodded solemnly. Christ. The male had been able to tell when they'd went over the border, his head lowered in some sort of quick mourning for himself and what he'd built in the militaristic group. Guilt hung heavy in his large heart, it stung him — along with the still-healing woulds inflicted upon his face. As the sun began to touch his chocolate colored fur, Ben hadn't turned his head to listen back — almost expecting someone to yell their names. Not seeing anything almost made it worst, but he promised to desperately keep a picture of the territory in his head. Eventually, as they walked — the now ex-general surgeon would brush against Lorraine's side with a slow huff... as if it was an apology to those who would find the note. To those they were leaving behind.

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Lorraine Jean-Pierre wrote:

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; borderwidth: 0px; width: 450px][justify]tracking, planning on joining colouredclan with a friend :^)

[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; border: 0px;][justify]/is the friend
track + hey guys!!
we are joining w the medics from darkclan lmao,,

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[fancypost bgcolor= transparent; border: 0px;][justify]/ oml sorry for late reply </3

It was a mix of guilt and exhaustion the Benjamin felt then. There was hidden frustration within the normally tranquil medic as there was a goddamn longing to see the land that they'd traveled through too. His paws ached, the healing wounds of his face stung — though, like Lorraine suspected — the lanky wolf wouldn't say anything about it. Of course he wouldn't. While he felt self-centered for leaving what'd once been their home, the medic was pretty much the * opposite of that. He cared too much about those around him and not at all for himself. Hell, throughout their journey Ben had found himself always listening in to what the female was saying — concerned... despite him being the more-injured out of the two. With semi-bloodied bandaging around his eyes, the wolf would find himself stopping besides her with a quick huff before picking himself up to an extent — for her. They needed something new. They needed a new place to make home. He wanted her to be excited about it, he wanted her to be happy — as the wolf had an idea that she felt the same as himself internally. Their hearts had sunken. It wasn't easy to leave a place where they had been needed. Their clan had been filled with disease, and they'd been the young medics. There was a moment where his jaw was clenching as the ex-surgeon general was forced to imagine his former clanmates' expressions upon finding the note him and Lorraine had left behind.

Benjamin was shaking his head as a cooler breezed whipped around his coat causing a shiver as his shoulders slumped but his face twisted around to somewhat look at Lorraine as much as he could. In his confined darkness due to his shattered eyesight, the skinny lupine was trying to paint a picture of her face from former memories. He was pressing a soft smile, ears swiveling around in an attempt to listen to the sounds around them. Ben had been thinking over his words when she pressed into him as they stopped at the border. He found himself using her to physically steady himself. While he thought the same as her, Benjamin felt as if he was still trying to make himself the hand that was reaching out to calm whatever nerves she had too. "You alright Lorraine?" His voice was gentle, yet solid — as it always was. Maybe there was some sort of joking tone interwoven within his words, but it was subtle. It was obvious he was just trying to make her feel... better, or — more confident about the situation. Again, this was hard for them. "What's it look like? Colorful or somethin' like that? The then-loner's light southern accent broke through as he tilted his head down with a slow shuffling of his paws in the soil.

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TEST!!
aw s hi t

[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:500px]KINS!!!!!! HI!!!!!
also lol stole your tags if that's k,, i think u said it's fine alread y tho
i just changed the lil' stars

[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:500px]Through the sounds of a forest, a chocolate hued wolf walked on. Benjamin, the medic. The Doc.

He wasn't sure how long it'd been since he'd left DarkClan with Lorraine. The female coyote wasn't with him anymore though. She'd gone off and joined some other group without him when he'd decided that it wasn't for him to go back again. She hadn't really seen it, but Benjamin had still felt guilt after leaving what had once been his home. The militaristic clan, they'd been overcome with sickness, and had begun to crumble... and fall away — and what had the wolf done? Ben had left them. Their head medic, their surgeon general, their friend. Gone before they could even beg him and Lorraine to stay behind with their infected glassed over eyes. What had he left? Just a goddamn note. They were probably all gone or dead now. A gentle huff couldn't help but escape his jaws as he pushed through growing foliage. It was spring, he knew that much. It was obvious. Along the ground, small weeds poked their way through the now thawing dirt and mud. Flowers branched off the leaves of budding branches in which swayed against the breeze as if they were waving to him. Spring always felt like a fix of all feelings. Thing were dead, but growing at the same time. It was like some sort of struggle of nature. Either way, Ben found himself watching. He'd always been more of the observant type.

His own worn medic equipment swung against his side, not very stocked or needed at this point but still at his side. It always would be. His jaws were clamped over a cigarette, something the tired medic knew was poisoning him though he continued to inhale the blackened air anyways. A way to cope, he almost always fucking said. Ben was better, better than he had first been when the medic had first set foot in the clans, but there was only so far someone could go on the road to a better state of mind after experiencing something like he and Scotty had. The name had wandered into his thoughts, causing him to look towards his paws. The memory of his best friend still felt fresh, and stung as if someone poured something citric into it when the name crossed his mind. Losing them, losing the male he'd loved the most was like some sort of cruel reminder to not too grow attached. A medic couldn't grow too close to anyone. He didn't want to see anyone he cared about die. Hell. With a shaking of his cranium, the wolf was rocking back onto his haunches. It was lonely, but he didn't... want to find himself alongside clanmates again. Or did he? He wanted to help, but he was almost afraid to put himself back into a society. When was the last time he'd really spoken with anyone? The wind grew harsh then, causing him to stiffen upwards to brace against it.

Something caught his attention though, drawing his thoughts away from... himself. Blood? Another wolf? He was pushing himself to his paws, scrambling really. Faint memories flashed through his pale blue eyes. Memories of his clanmates screaming his name for help. His ears were flattening against his head as he clenched his jaw before trotting off in the direction. Weary yet it was instinct. "Hello?" He'd begun pushing through bushes, optics widened with some concern despite his attempt to hide some of it. "I ain't sure if anyone's there, but hell — I thought I caught somethin' on the wind..." His voice sounded dry, though calm. Soothing, almost. Low. As it had always been. And then? Into a clearing, he was narrowing his eyes at the sudden sunlight that filtered through the small leaves above. "Oh." Ben was evidently surprised to find an injured red-tinted wolf upon the ground. "Hey, uh, I'll take care of ya'." His brows furrowed as the lupine took steps forwards towards the other male. "Name's Benjamin, I'm a... medic. Promise. If you let me I can..." A pause, a slow one at that as he brought himself to sit down. "Help you."

[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:500px]It was the piercing stare of the other wolf that caused him to narrow his eyes further, yet Benjamin wasn't slowing as his own set of eyes trained upon the crimson dripping down an already red coat. He caught onto the suspicion and weariness too, but hell — the medic wasn't going to turn around and leave him. He'd been given enough dirty looks for a lifetime just because something stung, or he wasn't wanted. The lupine had already met enough creatures who didn't want help because they were too stubborn. That never stopped him. One way or the other he got to the one who needed help, whether they wanted it or not. The younger wolf only moved to reveal his paw, which Roe took as a go-ahead. The healer was rocking back onto his haunches, parting his jaws with a tilting of his head. He looked focused, concentrated. Yet, his mind felt as if it was drifting off just a bit. It'd been a while since he'd sat down with the same expression to patch some kid up. He was balancing the cigarette within his jaws, rolling it back and worth as he looked over the wound. "All my life." He gave a reassuring nod, one that probably could be seen as trusting. Benjamin hardy lied anyways. The times he did were when it was to offer comfort during the more desperate scenes. There was a blinking of his pale blue eyes as he pushed the satchel with a rolling of his shoulder for easier access. "I don't got too much supply-wise, but I think I'll be able to fix somethin' here." The question of how it'd all happened still remained on the tip of his tongue but now wasn't the time. Maybe the curiosity would be evident on his facial features. Unfortunately for those around him, it was hard to tell what exactly Benjamin thought most of the time. He was good at hiding stuff like that.

"Heffron. Alright." Babe. He ignored it. Nicknames, they were meant for friends. Close ones. Nicknames were things that others called each other when there was fondness. Hell, sure he cared to an extent about the other canine, just... shit. There was a pause as the name finally moved into the banks of his memory. If the former DarkClan surgeon general was being honest right then, he was almost certain that it'd be a name forgotten soon enough. He almost didn't want to remember it. "Pleasure's mine." His voice was still quiet as he spoke, pushing his muzzle into the bag at his side. Hardly anything, his own train of thought felt as if it was broken up. When was the last time he'd even stocked up fully? Too long ago. There was a bandage. A small vial of alcohol meant for disinfecting, but in his solitude he'd used it for something else. Not much. Cigarettes contained enough poison. The two of them combined would leave him dead earlier than he wanted. He looked stiff in his movements, as if programmed. It was evident that he'd bandaged enough clanmates, or whoever for a lifetime. "This sure looks recent, but ain't that bad... ain't that bad." He was looking up with another flicking of his ears. "You'll live as long as you keep it clean." Benjamin was shifting his weight, quiet then as he worked. Quickly but carefully moving to pour out the rest of the remaining alcohol over the broken flesh, rinsing away what might be crawling upon it. Infection struck quick and it was necessary to get rid of it as fast as one could. That much hew knew. Ben was looking up, despite what his mind told him. He'd been alone too long to just remain dead silent after introductions. "You just travelin' these parts or do you have some sort of destination, Elliot? Can't say I've seen too many around this forest." Ben was biting down on his lowerlip was as he placed the now empty glass down by his side, shuffling around for the bandages as his words disappeared into the layer of silence.

[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:500px]/ I WROTE THIS HALF ASLEEP HE LP

The wolf felt the other's eyes upon him, but it didn't appear to... unnerve him. With his head inclined, Benjamin was only looking up with a quick switching of his eyes as the nearly red hued canine came back to call him Ben. "Either's fine, I guess. As long as you don't go off makin' nicknames at random." There was some sort of huff of tired amusement at the name 'Babe'. While he found himself dodging around the former-stranger's preferred name, the medic couldn't help but wonder where it'd come from. Maybe the injured male found himself in the company of too many goddamn lovers. There was a dipping of his head as he held onto the bandaging, a weak and hardly noticeable upward twisting of his mouth arose at the idea. The male in front of him wasn't bleeding out, and so while his nearly robotic movements masked over his true emotions for the most part, he couldn't help but find something with his shitty sense humor. Or maybe, he was just a little more happy to actually see someone. Someone who was talking to him. The former DarkClanner found himself stuck in the middle. He didn't want to find himself making a friend, but at same time Roe wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to go on alone. Solitude was dangerous for the mind, but...

He was nodding in some sort of quick thanks as Elliot moved his paw for him to get a better view of the red dripping down the sides. Through the silence, came a sudden yelp. A rougher bark. It sent Benjamin reeling backwards with his own eyes widened. In other words, it scared the medic. He didn't let it show too much, but he'd evidently been taken by surprise. Jeez. "Should of warned ya'. Sorry." He was pausing then, tilting his head at the thought. "Can't say I've seen anyone jump that much from just some alcohol though."Wind then came whirling around the trees, pushing his coat upwards in the process, probably making the chocolate colored lupine look a bit more flustered than he'd actually been. "Good news is, that was the worst of it. Try not to scream like that again or I'll end up messin' this wound up some more, huh?" His words were stiff as he rolled back his shoulders to give Heffron a look that could have mimicked a roll of eyes. The snapping at him caused him to chew upon his lip, but instead of saying anything else, Ben fell back into his own thoughts as he began to push the flimsy bandage around the bleeding paw. Pushing pressure against it himself for a while as the breeze continued to come through the trunks of the trees in front of him.

"You're not apart of the clans then." There was a shifting of his weight as he finished applying bandaging. He needed more, as it'd probably bleed right through. Well shit, because Benjamin had no more. Maybe... they'd have to — hell no. Ben was narrowing his pale blue eyes again, but his movements were almost slow then. It was as if he was being careful. Quiet, and observant. The question was coming back at him then. He should've known it was going to. He was looking towards the foliage. "Guess I could say the same for myself. Can't say I care much for clan-life anymore. Used to be a medic of some group but decided to get out of there." There was a sharper inhale between his words. Though, it was clear that that was going to be all of that topic to come from his mouth. His old life. It probably appeared to be a bit more sensitive despite the more-concealed emotions of Benjamin. "This bandaging ain't going to last long, I can tell you that much. From the looks of it you might bleed right through and I've got nothin' left." Ben couldn't help but shuffle his paws within the dirt, pushing the flap of his own equipment-holding satchel shut. "I, uh, think we could —" The medic was cutting himself off as he sat there, only looking towards Heffron with a mild quirking of a nonexistent brow. "You might be able to find somethin' around here to patch that up some more." He sounded hesitant, almost as if he was waiting for the other to offer some sort of suggestion. Ben didn't want to leave the guy, for more reasons than he'd actually admit but what else was there to fucking do? Go to a clan to restock? Join ranks again? No — that wasn't going to be an option, right?

[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:550px]/ omg i haven't slept in forever,, so excuse some of the problems in this post? i proofread but like,, idk lmao + pls wait for naboo to post w heffron/elliot/babe though!! <33

"Hey, uh — BlizzardClan,"

A lower, southern-like voice broke icy silence as the lanky wolf reached the border with a huff — his own tired pale blue eyes flickered back and forth for a sign of a possible member. Ben's ears were also swiveling in different directions as the lupine's paws dug into the soil below him, his weight leaning against the other injured wolf at his side to help hold him up. Heffron. They'd only met each other just a day or two beforehand, Benjamin having found the other injured. The wound wasn't anything major, it didn't take much to fix, but he hadn't had shit. He hadn't had enough to try and keep infection at bay. Hence, the wolf had reluctantly made the decision to take the slightly younger male to the nearest clan. Benjamin was no stranger to the groups of creatures, DarkClan itself had been his home for while. Hell, he'd been their own head medic. Memories of that place still stung him as if a bee's stinger was plunging into his own skin. And so, with a quick shake of his head the male continued, leaving those thoughts temporarily behind. Every so often his legs would grow shaky, tremble a bit from mostly-hidden exhaustion. "You guys got some type of medic here?" There was a pause as the former DarkClanner chewed upon his bottom lip with another shifting of his weight. "I ain't got nothin' anymore supply-wise and I could use some more bandages to patch my buddy here up." Hopefully someone was listening in. Benjamin's chocolate hued fur whipped back and forth by a breeze that howled through the trees. There wasn't really an attempt to brace from it, as all his effort went towards supporting Elliot. "Would appreciate the help." It was evident that Benjamin himself was a medic, the satchel at his side, while mostly empty, still wore a fading red cross. Upon his paws there was some crimson too, some of it dried into an ugly maroon and some still fresh as his newly-made traveling companion hadn't fully stopped bleeding from his torn open paw. Yet, the whole goddamn medic notion probably was going to seem a bit contradictory for the BlizzardClaners, for within his jaws an unlit cigarette rolled back and forth between his canines. A medic who was poisoning himself. Some hypocrite he was, but there was more to that specific story.

With another puff of breath, the regularly tired-looking medic was opening his jaws again. "Also, we're — lookin' to uh, join if that's alright." The words felt temporarily bitter on his tongue, but he sounded fine. It was painful to re-watch memories of himself standing on the DarkClan border, similar to how he was now. It'd been a while since he'd been apart of a clan, and the wolf wasn't too sure he wanted to be apart of something like this again. He'd lost too many in DarkClan and still felt the guilt deep within his chest. While his heartbeat continued to quicken as he stood there at the cooler border, his own facial expressions remained stoic. Serious. While he was still young, Benjamin sure as hell didn't act like it. Most of the time, at least. He'd seen too much in his short life. Sometimes he'd had enough of playing doctor, but within his head the former surgeon general knew that he'd never quit. He still wanted to still help and would always help but it always brought him back to the same place. Grieving and blaming himself, so filled with guilt that he couldn't.. couldn't what? Christ. His head was turning towards Heffron in an attempt to distract himself then with a quirking of his brows. Ben found himself narrowing his optics in the direction of his companion, mostly-hidden concern dancing within his recently-glassy gaze. "Heffron, you okay?" The same lower voice with that unique southern sounding accent arose. The stick in his teeth continued to push itself to the corners of his mouth. It was almost funny how quick Benjamin had found himself looking after the other. He told himself it wasn't attachment, but part of him knew that there was already a a growing friendship between the two.

And, of course — without even realizing it, he'd forgotten to actually introduce himself.

trackin'

track!! does anyone want some threads w ben?
my replies might be a lil slow until sunday though!!

[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:550px]/ thanks for the welcome and HOLY MUSE!! you guys are all good to track & YEAH this is the ben from dc! ALSO, ALL POST ARE HELLA APPRECIATED!!

The lupine couldn't help but narrow his own eyes with — no not annoyance at Heffron's eye-roll, but something else. An unidentifiable expression, mixed with some masked concern. His companion hadn't even offered to answer his inquiry, causing his own ears to flatten against his head. There was some sort of huff, more out of disappointment than anything else. The introducing of their names drew his tired thoughts away from the previous question but it still dwelled in that head of his. He was worried, sure — as any medic probably was over someone who was bleeding for fuck's sake. He was just good at covering up all that concern. There wasn't a need for the one bleeding to panic with the medic who was there too. It was like some unspoken law to Benjamin. Healers didn't panic when things weren't going the right way, or... any way. "You didn't answer the questi—..." The lanky wolf cut himself off to look forwards as he overheard the sounds of someone approaching. His softer gaze was soon drawing upwards towards the female who approached with a greeting in a language he was familiar with and could speak himself. Benjamin to put it simply was Cajun. He originated from the French who'd come down to the south, making a culture themselves in Louisiana — hence the southern-accent that occasionally laced itself into his voice. They were lucky, she just happened to be BlizzardClan's head medic. Without even having to think about it, she reminded him of someone, and for a while he was quiet — trying to gather up his breath to speak forwards as the wolf besides him leaned away.

"Ma'am. Pleasure's mine." Was what the canine was barking forwards, avoiding eye contact for a while as he looked towards the soil at his paws. When the medic was speaking again his head was tilted up, forcing himself to watch her face. She was quick but gentle. Welcoming the two quickly before rolling out her own supplies. "Merci." There was a look of envy at what her own bag at her side probably carried. Even in DarkClan, he'd struggled to have enough to take care of them all. Their enemies had made a point to target him and what he'd had, as what was a militaristic clan that couldn't heal their injured soldiers. His own tired optics continued to watch her, and per usual — the former AntiClanner couldn't find something to say. Benjamin had only caught her smile and nodded back, sidestepping some almost reluctantly from his injured friend. He decided to give her some space to work, only speaking up to explain a bit more. "Just had some bandages and sterilizing alcohol in a bottle, so that's all that's been done to it. The wound, it uh — hasn't had enough time to become infected. Not with the alcohol on it at least. Goes pretty deep, but luckily it ain't close to anything important." He was quiet again, rocking back onto his haunches in order to keep himself steady. While Ben wanted to help her, the world spun some. When was the last time he'd actually drank anything? Jeez. She was then asking him something else, the skinnier wolf was passing her a fatigued smile back. A slow blink of his eyes passed as he responded. "I think I'll be fine lookin' for a hut myself. Don't want to get in your way, yeah?" Benjamin was more on the solitude-preferring side anyways. He then caught a scrutinizing look, aimed towards the stick in his mouth. The chocolate colored canine didn't say much though — he was used to it. "He's all yours." It was probably obvious Benjamin wasn't too sure about it all, but it was for the best.

The next BlizzardClanner appeared out thin air, so it felt — and the aura coming off of him came in waves to Ben. Unnerving, but the former head medic of DarkClan didn't show much on his exterior. His own pale blue eyes concentrated on the mask upon the other's face, question sparking within his gaze before being subsided. Benjamin knew when to not ask questions. The unblinking gaze caused him to push himself back onto all-fours from his own position. For a while he just chewed on his own lip before lifting his head to speak. "Ben, or Benjamin in case ya' didn't hear." There was a pause, watching the other's claws dig into the ground underneath him. "You alright, you uh — look a little on edge?" Ben was only asking it because truthfully he thought he was the one causing the problem. Something wasn't right with the guy, obviously — but the wolf kept himself silent towards Alastor after his question.

The other male was directing Heffron more than himself, but Benjamin found himself shuffling his paws at the 'Babe' comment. The healer had his own mindset for most nicknames. Shortened versions of names were fine to him, it was just the nicknames that were like his companion's. Ben was broken in himself in some ways, so it was just to be understood. When the other BlizzardClanner was done speaking, the lupine spoke up himself with a gentle nod of his own. "Never got your name." With that, Ben was looking towards the other who approached. It was obvious he'd heard the 'Agent' part, as his own brow quirked in some question before realizing she was trying to avoid that. He didn't press it for multiple reasons. "Olive, uh — thank you." His lower-toned voice offered towards the female, forcing a upwards curve of his mouth in some sort of return despite the exhaustion that wore on his face.

Throughout it all, Ben found himself growing overwhelmed. It'd been too long. Hell, while it wasn't any of their faults — the wolf was struggling. They didn't know that Benjamin had hardly spoken to anyone in the few months he'd been gone and away from the clans. They didn't know of how his time in DarkClan had ended. While his expression remained the same, his eyes tore back and forth to the difference faces. Long story short, Ben found himself afraid of attachment to them. He must've gone back into his head, deep in thought as he normally did — only to come back to a larger bird directing him and Elliot. It caused him to widen his own eyes, maybe it surprised him but the question caused him to furrow his brows. "Forgive the rudeness monsoirs, but were you two, by any chance in a big, nasty war?" The fact that the other was also French didn't cross his mind. Ben found himself looking for an answer, pushing through his mind. Sure, during his time as DarkClan's medic he'd learned about reincarnations but Ben himself wasn't. A big war? One could call most of his life that. He'd gone from living within raging packs to DarkClan a clan that was, well shit — always at war. "I grew up amongst war, if that's what your askin'." While he tried to appear fine about it, there was obvious turmoil behind his own blue hued eyes. "Trained a medic from day one. Moved onto DarkClan." Would it bother them that he came from an AntiClan? "So, I guess I could answer yes to your question but I get the feeling that's not the answer you were lookin' for." Ben was quiet after, finding himself somewhat chewing on the cigarette lodged in his canines. "You sound like your story is different, though." There was a stiff rolling of his shoulders, it probably felt like Benjamin himself didn't want to continue with the subject. When the other apologized, Ben was dipping his head. "Don't worry about it, we all got questions, right?" The medic himself was relieved for the subject change, nodding quietly to the other's name. The former militaristic title in front of the larger eagle's name caught his attention, but for past reasons. A lieutenant in DarkClan carried more significance than it did with the male in front of him here, and out of habit Ben picked himself up some more after the BlizzardClanner's words. "Jullian, alright." He paused, trying to think of something else to say before opening his mouth once again. "Merci pour l'accueil."

YESSS!! @JULES W.
Who should make?

AND TRUE PEN, true!!

EDIT: OH I DIDN'T REALIZE THERE WAS A BUNCH of new replies!!
YES TO EVERYONE WHO ASKED FOR ONE!!

just message me if I haven't already talked to you about a thread! c;

[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:550px]/ woah muse

It was almost strange for Ben to find himself amongst more medics, as in DarkClan he'd been one of the two. He'd never taken on an apprentice because there'd been no interest. With a clan based mostly on fighting and war, violence and strength — there'd been a lack of healers. It'd only been him and a female coyote who'd grown to be... a closer friend of his until the end. They'd fought off infection side-by-side, and had left crumbling DarkClan side-by-side with more than enough guilt in their hearts. The newly-made BlizzardClanner was shaking his head though, attempting to remove the recently surfaced memories of the past from his head. He focused on what was in front of him, his pale blue eyes switched back and forth across the both eager and 'just-watching' members. While he recognized some from the other day, Ben his brows furrowing at some of the unknown faces. It didn't bother him though, eventually he'd learn their names. In time, right? His optics soon landed upon Lottie, a familiar face — known to him as their head medic. The two of them didn't know much about each other yet, but they both appeared to value the same things. He'd probably seen the more gruesome part of the medical field, just because of where the two had probably learned their skills. Who knew though, from what the lupine had learnt — some medics were good at covering up what they actually felt. For after all, the wolf did that himself. Most of the time, at least.

It was a training, yet Benjamin already knew most of what she was speaking about if not all. He'd been DarkClan's head medic after all. Surgeon general if someone wanted to fancy up the rank's title. There wasn't a need for him to answer, as the wolf trusted that Iselotta knew of his knowledge for the most part. "I'll participate. Help, uh — if ya' need it." His own steadier voice broke whatever quick silence that'd settled over the group, his optics switching over the some younger members who tried their best to answer her questions. Did he want to join BlizzardClan's medic team in some shape or form? Ben wasn't sure internally, but if offered the opportunity he'd agree. Loyal to the bone in almost all situations was Ben, through hell or high water and he would do what was asked of him. He was rocking back onto his haunches, tucking the cig into the back corner of his jaws — mostly to subtly try and hide it from the other medic's gaze. Hell, she'd already given him on disapproving look. At least it wasn't lit... yet. His still rather empty satchel with that fading red cross of it's continued to hang at its side, but wasn't in use now. After his paws shuffled within the cooler dirt for a while, he remained still — tired eyes glancing over those there again with interest.

Truthfully, Ben hadn't ever seen something like this before. Interested youth willing to learn to be medics. Where he'd grown up, pups had just been chosen depending on skill and the medic himself had shown a knack for it. Plus, his lanky and skinnier built had been frowned at from the soldier-side of things. The whole scene in front of him could only cause a slight widening of his softer blue eyes.