Posts by Benjamin.

[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:500px]The multiple voices of his clanmates had brought Benjamin over, curiosity having dragged him by his scruff despite how his paws had dug into the soil occasionally in weak protest. It wasn't that Ben didn't like them, he just preferred solitude over growing too close to anyone. He'd learnt that mistake too many times, so the chocolate-colored wolf believed. Faces were becoming familiar to him, yet he didn't share much of a connection to many of them. It didn't bother him, Ben liked to think. The wind coming from the horizon whipped his thicker coat back and forth as the lanky wolf came to a halt besides Loveletter and Sweetophelia, remaining silent for a while as those along side flank questioned the newcomer who appeared pretty fucking confused. Ben simply continued to absentmindedly move the unlit cigarette around in his mouth while he observed. He hadn't remember his name at first? Someone had told him it? A shadow-y figure? War — who name'd their kid that? The healer was chewing upon his lower-lip too out of habit as he listened in for a while. The snow leopard in front of them also didn't seem to remember how he'd gotten near their border. The unofficial medic had dealt with enough head injuries during his time in DarkClan and beyond that, so naturally his brows began to furrow with semi-masked concern. Amnesia — his thoughts mimicked the others. "Name's Benjamin. Ben for short. Pleasure, uh — War. Welcome to BlizzardClan." The wolf paused, side glancing Sweetophelia before turning back towards the stranger, or well — joiner now.

"I'm an unofficial medic here, I ain't on the actual team — but would ya' mind if I took a look at you? Sometimes memory loss can be caused by a head injury. Seein' things that aren't really there can be common too." Benjamin spoke, his lower-voice steady as he shuffled his paws within the soil. He was then tilting his shoulders back as the cool air twisted itself around his neck once again. "You might've just passed out earlier after being knocked somewhere on that head of yours." The skinnier wolf was tilting his head as he gathered up his thoughts to speak again. "Mind if I take a quick look?" Ben himself looked tired as he spoke, only occasionally looking towards the sword, yet that wasn't his primary focus so he didn't take too much notice of it.

[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:500px]/ pfT it was GOOD!!! hope ya don't mind that i'm replyin' c:

Pixel wasn't someone he was overly familiar with, but hell — he could recognize her voice... and it came screaming in his direction. It'd caused him scrambling out of old habit, as he associated wild sobbing with pain, physical pain not mental — as Benjamin had almost always been surrounded by those who were trained for the military — including himself. They'd taught him to shove everything downwards, they'd taught everyone within his home before DarkClan that. Showing weak emotions were frowned at, especially for medics. Everyone was forced to lift their heads, as that was a symbol of power and strength. His birthplace had treasured those two things. And so, when someone openly was distraught it caused him automatically believe that there was a wound.

Long story short, Benjamin thought Pixel was hurt. He was shoving himself forwards, breaking through foliage as his longer legs pushed off the ground in order to avoid fallen branches, or dips within the ground. It was evident he'd done the entire race towards a 'patient' before. Too many times. Yet, when he'd learnt how to get himself places quick — branches and nature's barriers hadn't been the only things lying upon the ground. Nor had there only been pools of water, but he continued to shake his head trying to forcefully push those shitty ideas from his head. The words the lighter pink female was crying were inaudible to him for a while, but as he grew closer the lupine begun to make things out.

But, then, without warning — the crying was silenced and in it's place she spoke words of reassurance. Who did she not need? Was there someone standing with her? Ben was slowing, his paws pressing into the dirt as his lope broke into a tense trot. "Pixel?" Ben was questioning with an deep furrow of his brows, deciding to push through the brush into the clearing in which she was lying. The medic let his own pale blue eyes dance over her frame before stopping in his tracks, almost wanting to turn back. Had she wanted some time to herself? Ben almost appeared more alarmed at her smile and the way she'd been speaking to herself... or had someone just left? "Oh... sorry Pixel, uh — was I interrupting somethin'?" He was trying to catch his breath from running through the territory, his lungs desperately inhaling the cooler air around him and puffing out hot breaths. It was obvious he'd been bolting in her direction, as along with the heavy breathing, his chest and stomach was splattered with mud. "I heard you crying, and was coming to check on ya'." He was passing her a stressed, almost reassuring smile — but there was hidden weariness in his gaze.

"You alright?"

[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:500px]Benjamin had been leaning against the bark of an older tree that towered way above him, a lit cigarette lodged within his own canines when the wolf had overhead the call of the newly-named medic trainee. For a while the wolf debated standing up onto all paws, as he hadn't actually been able to smoke for a while. Within his old home, no one had bothered him about having a stick of poison in his mouth — but no, now everyone and their mother was shaking their heads at him. He knew they were just trying to help him, and hell, they didn't want to have to inhale the darker smoke either. Lottie was probably the most adamant about it though, naturally. She was the Head Medic after all. Ben's eyes were narrowing, pushing himself to all-fours with a tired look falling across is face. Reluctantly, he was putting out the cigarette yet he kept it within his jaws.

Ben hadn't ever fished before, hell he'd resided in areas where the sun scorched the ground. Snow had been just a myth to him, and water had been a limited source. There'd been no fish. With a tilting of his head, Benjamin was dipping his head in a quick greeting as he slowed himself to a stop somewhere in front of Sylmae. The two of them hadn't interacted much, but he knew her face and hopefully she knew his. Right? "You ain't looking too sure about this yourself." He was speaking, a weak grin spreading across his face as his blue optics drifted over her face. "Can't say I've had much experience with this but let's try it, yeah?" Oh jeez, what the fuck was he signing himself up for. Then again, he didn't want to have Sylmae just standing there alone and waiting for someone for too long.

[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:550px]warning for some gore
word count: 1,707
& mmm not sure if i fully answered the prompt correctly, i sorta just let my writing go coUGHS i didn't have a plan for this lmao,, but i think it worked... you can respond icly if you want too.

"Ben, Ben — pl-please. I don't... I don't wanna' die!"

Someone was grabbing towards him, screaming — crying his name as they writhed upon the ground and stared towards him with widened eyes, glassy yet panicked. He was sputtering, coughing — red oozing from his lips. The wolf was staring at him, at the young age of seven months the already-proclaimed medic was pulling out pristine bandages which soon became tainted with that color. An vibrant red, an ugly red. It soaked into his chocolate colored coat, his young yet already worn eyes switched back and forth as he continued to apply pressure to wounds he knew were fatal. His friend, only somewhat older than himself — but trained to be a soldier was dying. "Hold still — I just..." His younger voice rang aloud as combat raged around them. The dirt was thrown upwards along with those both in his pack and of the enemies. It was winter, the cold was more than just a biting one — and from the sky came down clumps of white.

Bloodied snow surrounded the medic as someone more screamed, begged for a medic — though it was all continuously muffled. His hearing wasn't right, as somewhere within his ear there was a high-pitched sound. Had an explosion gone off besides him earlier? He couldn't remember, it was all now a blur. The male in front of him still mouthing his name, as if he knew that he was already gone. Without warning, another older medic came skidding through the snow — "Roe! Leave him — he's already dead!" His friend's eyes only widened at the words as he made frantic, yet weak attempts to reach towards Benjamin again. It was too late, as the older medic was dragging the younger lupine away from the scene.

His paws were leaving red marks within the snow, but the blood wasn't his own. The last he saw of his friend was a writhing form as if he'd tried to get up and follow them. The older healer was suddenly gone from his side, and Ben was again standing along — the echoes of so many in sheer agony filling his head. His head throbbed, his mouth wanted to tremble — yet his paws were suddenly moving towards another wolf who was dragging himself through snow leaving another bloodied mark. It was his job. It was his job. He had to help them, those who still lived. There was a large inhale, a sharp one — as he stumbled almost blindly at first but then forcefully steadied himself and sprinted in his direction. "Let me help you." Ben was screaming himself, dragging his medic equipment towards his front and through the snow. His lanky form shaky, but his paws steady as the soldier moved to lie on his back. Both of them, covered in blood and but only one of them appeared to panic and it was no longer the young medic. He'd been taught otherwise.

—

DarkClan. It was summer, as it always was within the scorched AntiClan. He stood within the barracks, staring into the eyes of a female coyote. Lorraine. The two of them were the only medics of the clan, both of them were organizing their supplies. Herbs. Bandages. Morphine. She was smiling towards him as weak sunlight shone through a dusty window, illuminating her face. She was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. Benjamin Roe was in love, so fucking in love with her. The female was speaking French to him, but the words were not comprehended. The two of them — they'd known each other for too long. Yet, their relationship was something that'd would never grow pass a friendship. He hadn't ever told her how he felt. The both of them were too young, the two both were in charge of saving their clan. They didn't have time for love. Benjamin was looking away from her, to his paws — eying the dried crimson as he still hadn't rinsed his paws. His shoulders shook, and behind him the coyote was asking him if he was alright. Her voice was light, it brought him peace — it rinsed away memories in which plagued him. "I love you Lorraine." His voice tried to fight its way though his chest, but the head medic was silent as he reached towards a cigarette. Sticking the stick of poison within his mouth with an uneven paw, his eyes were lifting back to face hers. He was pressing a weak grin, forcefully plastering it onto his face. "Of course — I'm alright."

At twelve moons, the two of them were leaving a broken DarkClan. Hearts heavy, yet together. The taller wolf had only pressed into the coyote at his side as they moved away from their home's border. He searched for comfort, he searched for support — and she did the same to him. The male had yet to tell her that he loved her. Yet, not long after they'd left the desert-clan she was no longer with Benjamin. Gone. She'd fallen away from him, out of his grasps and the male was once again alone.

He hadn't ever had a chance to tell her he loved her.

—

Spring. Benjamin came shooting upwards, his breathing heavy as he glanced about — his eyes frantic. Through the darkness, guided by the silvery light of the moon the medic was glancing down towards his paws — searching for blood, as he felt it upon himself. He was drowning in it. It wasn't his, but he was choking — yet, there wasn't anything really there. BlizzardClan. He was within BlizzardClan. His name was Benjamin Roe. He was a medic. He saved people. The now thirteen-month old wolf spoke to himself, repeating the information out loud within the dead of night. "Benjamin Roe. Medic. Saved." It was a choppy version as he spoke through a shuddering breath. The wind of BlizzardClan splashed across his face, causing him to speak further as he stood up and began trotting away from the place he'd fallen asleep. "Ben. Medic." There was a pause as he moved through the grass that was now beginning to grow upwards through a once frozen ground. "Lorraine, Toye, Sink, Martin, Lipton, Nixon." A list of names came through clear as he pushed himself towards an edge of the floating island he'd been upon — only in an attempt to breathe. Stars winked at him from above as he broke into a clearing, shakily coming back to his haunches. "Muck. Liebgott. Spiers. Janovec." Ben was shuffling his paws as he stared outwards, recalling each alive face of those he mentioned. With the last name, the healer was looking towards his paws — finding his breath again. "Scotty."

He was rocking. His memories were traumatic to say the least. Nightmares. They latched onto him and refused to let go. With heaving of his chest, the wolf was soon silent. His breathing was at its regular pace, but his heart continued to thump loudly. His pale blue eyes were switching across the ground, small purple flowers lying at his paws — which did not in fact wear blood upon them. It almost unsettled him to not find himself clean from red. Deep within the heart, he was comforted by the idea. Ironic how he joined BlizzardClan during a season of change. A season of new beginnings, yet Ben felt as he was still clinging to the past — unable to remove himself from it whether he wanted to or not. Distancing himself from growing extremely close to anyone would forever be apart of him, as well as the need to help. Yet, BlizzardClan was different from the locations he'd previously lived all his life. It was filled with ease, the members here — were different from what he'd known. They expressed their emotions, they displayed real happiness, real sadness — yet Ben still found himself stuck. It'd been moons since watching his friends die at his paws, but he still was not okay. While he masked his inner-emotions most of the time, the wolf still felt too fucking much. Pain, guilt, and confusion. Christ.

His eyes focused upon the flowers again. It caused him to dive back into a different part of his thoughts. Spring was a season of new again, how had he changed? Benjamin found himself looking through old memories, he saw his friends dying once again — he saw himself joining DarkClan, he saw himself being their head medic — he saw himself weakly grinning — he saw himself shaking, his frame racking from nightmares, he saw himself falling in love with the prettiest girl he'd ever seen, he saw himself leaving DarkClan, he saw himself losing her — he saw himself at the BlizzardClan border. How had he changed? How had he changed from his childhood? How had he changed since joining BlizzardClan?

It was a question he was now struggling with. Fighting against, almost. Fuck. Most of the ways he'd changed weren't for the good. He was more solitary, he was reluctant, he was constantly fighting an internal battle and ignoring it. Yet, since joining BlizzardClan? Ben was still staring towards the lavender colored flower, watching as it begun to try and open up to its new world. He was no medic yet here, unsure if he would ever be. That was different, but the wolf was unsure if that was... a change within himself. It came to him then, a small thought. Joining BlizzardClan had been as if someone had begun to place a bandage on an almost untreatable-wound. Gaping flesh, and a body littered with ugly scars. He was not surrounded by war here. He was not watching his friends scream in pain, not yet. Within the pale moonlight, Benjamin was lifting his head upwards — settling on the idea of BlizzardClan being some type of surgeon who would begin slowly putting the pieces of himself back together. At least, it was a step in the right direction. At the thought, Ben was pulling himself to his paws — pressing his paws into the ground as he turned as he began to return to BlizzardClan's camp.

Home.

PLAISIR D'AMOUR / OPEN, ONE-SHOT CONTEST
^ here ya' go!

oml i never saw this + track

/ OH MY GO D!! IT'S A DESTINY CHAR!! track until i'm not at school and can reply!!

[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:550px]/ oooooh late reply tho this + did not proofread this lmao

Benjamin had been continuing to sit alone, listening to the ongoing conversations of the BlizzardClanners — yet he'd had nothing to say himself. The wolf had continued to be solitary amongst the group until Babe had approached him, grinned and then turned his head to pay attention to Sweetophelia. The medic had almost picked up his voice to say something to the other wolf who had joined with him, but before he could do so — the BlizzardClan leader opened her mouth to speak. The mentioning of ambassadors was the first to be discussed. Ben, while had traveled to DarkClan's allies for medical supplies, hadn't ever held an ambassador position. He wasn't social, and during his time within the AntiClan — he hadn't had the time to go out to plan events with allies. Long story short, the lupine was fine not being an ambassador, the role didn't interest him. Nope. Iselotta's name caused him to lift his head in acknowledgment, listening in as she was instructed to visit WindClan. It didn't concern him, but out of all the BlizzardClanners amongst him — she was who he knew the most. Babe probably came close second, right? Hell, none of that really bothered him though. Ben wasn't within the ProClan to be the most social of them all and constantly be surrounded by friends. Truthfully, there was too much fear tucked into his chest to reach out towards his clanmates. Benjamin was a sufferer from post traumatic stress disorder, but refused to really fucking acknowledge it. At least, for now.

Without noticing, Ben had been lost within his head — missing half of the things the female had said. Shit. Ben was rocking back onto his haunches uncomfortably, tilting his head downwards as he tried to speed himself up. Those around him were mumbling their condolences, and so he'd figured the demotions had been announced. He was familiar with the brief mourning period clans had for the demoted. Yet, normally — demotions were deserved. Sweet seemed to have thought about them for a while, as they weren't ever easy to do. Or, that's what he thought from observing different leader's emotions. The canine had been gifted with a keen eye, one that was good at reading emotions. It was almost ironic as he hardly displayed his own. As he was lifting his head, the tired-looking unofficial medic was overhearing the name — Mack. A mostly unfamiliar one, but Benjamin had been in BlizzardClan long enough to know that Mack was their deputy. An illusive one from what he knew. There was another warning. Storm. It didn't really concern the healer so he simply nodded his head as Sweetophelia continued.

The rest of the meeting began to speed up, as Benjamin continued to lose himself in his thoughts. Medic trainees, yeah — he'd been at Iselotta's announcement for them. Titles. Shoutouts, but his own name being called caused him to raise his head. Him? A shoutout? What the hell had he done? For a while Ben was bringing himself into an upright posture, blinking slowly out of his own confusion before understanding. He hadn't expected his name to be apart of this meeting at all, as he was... more reclusive in BlizzardClan. He wasn't everywhere. He wasn't as social as some of his clanmates. Yet, apparently the leader had taken notice of him. Was that a good or a bad thing? Christ, Ben wasn't even sure himself. "Uh — thanks." Was all the former AntiClanner could mumble out, simply out of sheer surprise. It went on quickly again. Promotions being the last, and the largest promotion going to Nathaniel — someone the skinnier wolf did know. And then, things were silent — BlizzardClanners gathering up the information before giving nods of their heads or lending their voices to acknowledging all that'd been said. It was a lot to take in, it was a lot to come back to. Benjamin after all hadn't been apart of a meeting since... since when? It'd been too long.

With a shake of his head, the medic was attempting to clear his head in order to speak correctly — attempting to feel thankful for the shoutout but it brought him a level of discomfort too. Fucking discomfort. Really? It was proof to something he still didn't want to admit, not even to himself internally. "Condolences to the demoted, congratulations to everyone too." He felt programmed to say those words, his steady voice finally sounding... well — steady, no longer confused or surprised. Maybe exhaustion hinted in his tone, but that was normal. And, with that — things were dismissed. Ben still found himself somewhat trapped in his head, overthinking something so simple as a shoutout. It meant more to him though, but he still wasn't able to decide whether it was on the positive side of things or... the negative. Hell, he just wanted a cigarette.

lmAO @ those crackships,,,
tbh if anyone flirts w ben he'll probs become too embarrassed to function
maybe he'll cry a lil, who knows

[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:500px]/ does he have any real head injuries?

Benjamin nodded his head slowly as the newcomer agreed. Head injuries could vary. If they were bad, well — hell... amnesia was common. This guy in front of him without a doubt had amnesia. Some type of it, at least. Maybe it was caused by amnesia, maybe it wasn't. From what the healer could see himself — there was no injuries, gashes, or swollen bumps upon his head. Maybe this guy was a reincarnation? He'd seen that a few times before too. Being a medic in the world they lived in wasn't all scientific after all. "Alright, first off — anything hurt?" It was a simple question as he moved forwards, somewhere off to his side Sweetophelia was thanking him. Ben was looking back towards with with a gentle dip of his head, his soft pale blue eyes switching over the leader in acknowledgement before flickering back towards 'War'. The idea then hit him before he could ask something else. "Uh, maybe someone could get him somethin' to drink, too?" The confusion... could be because of dehydration. Right? There was a shuffling of his paws then as Ben moved to stand in front of the larger snow leopard. "I'm going to bring my paw back and forth, and you just follow it with your eyes — yeah? Don't move your head, just your eyes." It was a way to actually test for a concussion, or some type of head trauma. It was a start, at least.

The BlizzardClanner was raising his paw upwards and slowly starting it in the middle then moving it back... and forth — furrowing his brows in concentrating as he did so in order to watch the other's eyes with a level of seriousness reflecting in his own. The wind continued to blow through his coat, but it didn't appear to budge Ben as he investigated the joiner. "You have any other injuries? Not just on your head?"

[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:550px]/ im so tired, i tried to match lmao but failed

Ben hadn't been far from where the younger female had dropped to the ground — in fact, the wolf had been trotting through when within the corner of his softer pale blue eyes someone had hit the ground. Luna? The name wasn't very familiar to him, as it was with more than enough BlizzardClanners — but he'd seen her around. The chocolate hued wolf had stopped in his tracks then, pushing back the medic equipment to his flank as his shoulders twisted around in order to take get a better look. What the hell? Without much thought, Ben followed another female over. Obviously they were friends, or... something more — he didn't fucking know. As the male grew closer, Ben was putting a name to the Paladin who evidently thought that other gal was joking. Loveletter. Right. He was soon pulling up besides Love, clamping down upon the unlit cigarette lodged within his teeth. The unofficial medic's brows were furrowing as he turned to look towards the smiling and weakly laughing Loveletter. "I don't think she's jokin' around." The two of them hadn't ever talked, but there was a first for everything — despite how he appeared almost reluctant.

"Hold on." Well shit, that was a phrase he had a tendency of repeating. Ben was giving her a quick side glance before moving to put a paw near her face... to make sure she was breathing. Iselotta wasn't here, nor was any other medic and so the male was deciding to deal with the presumably passed-out Luna himself until any of them showed up. He was glancing upwards towards the sun, repositioning his skinnier frame so that he blocked out some of the light that shone into her face. "Could you go get some — water? Just to, uh — lie it on her forehead." He hesitated, unable to really lock eyes with the other. While concern drifted about within him, his voice was steady — as he forever had been trained to be while learning the ways of a healer. "She's breathing, but I ain't too sure on why she passed out. Hell, at least not yet." Ben was nodding towards the other. The lupine was then dipping his head down towards Luna once again, frowning as he realized she must of hit her head on the way down. Fainting was... something not normally fatal , it just brought — uncertainty. What had caused it was an entirely different idea. If she didn't regain consciousness in the next few moments, then would the unofficial medic begin to do some other things for her. Yet, normally — they awoke on their own. Placing some water upon her forehead would probably help her recover. If not — they'd have to try something else. At least she was continuing to breathe, and that was all that really mattered for the time being. With a blinking of his gaze, Ben continued to place his paw near her mouth and nose — watching as her chest rose and fell. "Luna." He was quiet, as if trying to bring someone back from a deep sleep.

/ o h SHOOT track, but i'm brain dead from the ACT
i'll reply later!!

[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:500px]She hadn't looked too nervous to Benjamin, he'd just been poking at the medic trainee with some weaker humor. While Ben's own head wasn't the best, he'd been trained to constantly keep his own problems to himself. A clan wasn't ever supposed to worry about their healers, even if he wasn't an official medic — it was just a thing he kept saying to himself. It gave him reason to why he did what he did. There was a quick shaking of head, his coat continuing to be kicked around by the wind. By the time he was focusing back upon the group, there were more BlizzardClanners about. His jaws were closing shut as the healer passed Mae a weaker smile — replying late to her. "Yeah, can't say I've ever seen many dogs try an' fish." His pale blue eyes were dancing over her shape before moving towards the others as they lined up along the water's edge.

The wolf was moving alongside them, standing then besides Celina — quirking a nonexistent brow as she asked her question. "She's got a point." It was obvious Ben was curious to as his paws dug into the softer soil. The rest of him was rigid-still, as he stared into the water. "No one fall in, alright?" The chocolate hued lupine couldn't help but raise his steady and lower-pitched voice again out of sheer habit. The water, while not as cold as it probably had been in the midst of winter, was still probably cold. He, and probably the actual medic team — didn't want anyone to get sick from trying to fish. That'd be fucking stupid, but at the same time of course — worrying.

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

Her voice had smacked him across the face, leaving him dazed — his pale blue eyes reflected nothing as he stopped what he had been doing. They appeared glassy, his expression had gone from concentrated on the task in front of him to nothing. Nothing on that normally stoic face of his. The wolf looked blank. Then, all at once, memories flashed before his eyes and the canine was taking steps back through the brush. Images of him and Lorraine within DarkClan filled his head so quickly. It caused his head to throb. No. She was gone. He had moved on. They had separated from each other, they had gone their separate ways. He was heaving in a heavy breath, taking with him the pollen in which he was allergic too. It caused his eyes to itch, it caused his throat to feel hoarse once again — but that was the least of his worries now. Ben was clamping down upon the unlit cigarette, his canines almost grinding against each other in the process. His paws were shuffling in the dirt as he turned his skinnier frame towards the border. Sweetophelia, she was there — he heard her voice.

There was no doubt within his mind as he caught her scent upon the wind that pushed his coat back. Ben didn't know what to do. He wanted to run, he wanted to sprint towards her. Yet, at the same time the canine couldn't move. His paws were anchors to the soil, digging deeper and refusing to let him take a step forwards. His head felt as if it was going to burst if he moved anymore as well. The world was slowed as his breathing became uneven. Hell. He had worked so hard to forget DarkClan, to forget her — and now the past was crawling towards him again. He was panicking as an indescribable emotion connected to weariness gripped him by his throat. It was hard to breathe, and Ben wasn't sure if it was simply his goddamn allergies or his head. He'd set up some sort of life here, trying to escape what had begun painful memories.

Without warning, his legs were moving — dragging themselves in the Earth as his heart dragged him forwards and his mind fought back. She had been his friend, he had fucking loved her. Now? He had purposefully thrown away those feelings, but there had been scars — wounds still festering on him. Leaving their own home hadn't been something he'd ever really wanted to do, but they had had to leave. Guilt swallowed him up with every step, pushing through the growingly vibrant foliage. His own brows furrowed as he grew closer. He felt as if he was walking through a dream — moving back through time, a time he didn't want to relive. Or did he? Benjamin was finding himself standing somewhere besides the leader and Imperia, unable to bring his gaze up towards her. The other two BlizzardClanners had hardly caught his attention. Instead he'd only momentarily glanced her over. He'd missed her. "Lorraine." The name fell out of his mouth before he could catch it. His steadier voice sounded almost shaky, as despite his attempt to gather up his emotions — but they fell to fast for him to collect. His face felt hot, his eyes looked — tired, confused, but... happy. Finally, he found himself looking upwards, the light reflecting from his eyes as he searched for her face. Without much thought, Ben was taking a step towards her as if for some sort of reuniting friendly embrace — though momentarily hesitating as he looked over her again. What if this all just some sort of dream and he'd find himself bolting upright the moment before the two of them were able to make contact. What he dreamt of and his real life occasionally blended together with his lack of sleep.

/ stealthy track because ben would die
not even kidding, no joke, he would die if he participated in this

[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:550px]/ this makes me so happy AH H

It all happened so fast. First she had been grinning at him, admitting to being unsure on what exactly to say. Next, she was taking steps towards him while Sweetophelia spoke something — inaudible to him. Benjamin was too captivated by the female in front of him, his pale blue eyes switching over her frame as if he expected her to disappear as soon as he blinked. Yet, while there was some weariness and exhaustion there — his expression mimicked hers. "I didn't think — I'd see you again either. Lorraine, I-..." Before he could continue she was moving to embrace him in a hug, which forced him to push his back leg back in order to keep them from falling over. He was sheepishly grinning, moving to meet her with the same amount of love there. The two of them, they hadn't ever had the time... to speak to each other much about if there'd been anything between them. They'd been DarkClan's only medics, they'd been young — they still were young. The smaller kiss to his cheek caused him to dip his head in return, there was too much happening in that head of his to actually acknowledge it fully. The sun was reflecting down onto her face, lighting up her features — her grinning face. Ben was having to remind himself that she was real. When she backed away, Ben too made the realization that the two were still in the eyes of the public. His head was lowering, though not for long as the lupine couldn't keep his eyes off of her for too long.

He was afraid to lose her.

Sweetophelia was acknowledging that it was fine, but like Lorraine he still felt... embarrassed. Jeez. Benjamin wasn't the one to openly display any type of affection, nor was he the one to openly show what he felt. Only few in this world broke down the wall he'd put around himself, and the female coyote was one of those people. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, there were so many things Ben wanted to ask. It almost physically hurt him to keep his mouth shut. The two of them — they hadn't seen each other in so long. Ben had tried to fucking forget about the other canine, Ben had told himself that he had moved on from DarkClan and now all that he'd worked upon was destroyed for the most part. He was quickly turning towards Sweet, trying to find the words to explain. BlizzardClan deserved to know how they knew each other, right? Hell, the wolf figured they were curious. "Lorraine — she, and I were DarkClan's medics." He didn't explain their relationship status, because Benjamin didn't know himself. If he had though, the healer probably would've kept his mouth shut anyways. "I can give her a tour, if that's, uh — alright." He was looking towards Lorraine, finding himself weakly grinning — clamping his jaws back down again upon the cigarette. "Si vous souhaitez?" The French came off his tongue with a widening of his eyes, tilting his head towards the territory.

Maybe it was just an excuse for him to get them away from the public — again, he had so much to say. To ask.

LORRAINE x BEN
BEN x BABE

AND O H MY GOD IS THAT ROWENA ,, LIKE ROWENA FROM DC?
ROWENA FROM SUNCLAN TOO?

AHHHHH!! OM L, I NEED TO RESPOND TO YOUR JOINING THREAD!!
homework why must you curse me so

Ben: OK, that's it, DarkClan is a long-gone memory. YUP, that's it. No Lorraine, no Rowena, nope, nobody.
Old DarkClan: *STEPPING ONTO BC BORDER,,,

ANYWAYS, yes,,, alasie pls
AND OML no,,, sweet

[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:550px]/ flings myself off a cliff because this is so late + ALSO ,,, THIS IS NO t good

Benjamin had an idea of what she'd been thinking previously, yet had only dipped his head in silence and dismissed it. His focus was on the herbs now, the bitter scent from them all wafting upwards into the air around him. "Merci." The wolf was lifting his head as he followed her, eying the wildcat before letting his gaze drift across the herbs stocked within the room. He listened to her speak, letting his ear flick in acknowledgment. "Yeah, I see. Move's a little too fast if you ask me. But, I ain't goin' nowhere." He was shrugging, continuing to remain on all-fours as his paws dug into the now harder ground below him. The smells of the medic den brought him back within his memories as she spoke. Half of him continued to listen, while the other half of him watched the past. The healer had a habit of letting himself become distracted, drifting off in thought. There was so much in that head of his, it wasn't hard for him to end up detached. It was a problem, Ben knew — but most of the time he just ignored it and apologized for seeming so off. He tried to get others to not worry about him anyways. The word 'DarkClan' and her sudden movement in pulling the herbs from the shelf caused him to switch back into that head of his.

"DarkClan, hell." He was shaking his head as he watched the french femme continue to take supplies for him. "Yeah, it was uh — very different. They train the kids there to fight, not heal." Benjamin was shuffling his paws as he eventually rocked back onto his haunches. "They were taught to leave no mercy. Ruthless." A grimace crossed his face. "No one wanted to learn how to heal. There was just one kid, I remember — who had a little interest. I never held trainings to pick apprentices, because shit no one would show up." He scoffed, his optics drifting towards the ceiling before looking back down. "As all AntiClans normally are. They all want to be strong, they all say they've got to fight to prove themselves." Ben was realizing that his entire life had been similar to the AntiClan's style. He had been chosen to be a medic because he'd been skinny, weak — and not good at fighting. He'd shown skill in the art of saving lives. "BlizzardClan holds, uh — other things to a level of importance. Not just fighting." Ben had realized he'd been talking for a while and was soon shutting his jaws. He was standing up, moving to look towards what revealed itself on the table. The former head medic began to pull what he'd needed, his tired eyes lighting up at the site of the supplies. It'd been silent until she spoke again.

"You were a musician?" Ben's gentle eyes widened with curiosity. She was then clarifying, and Benjamin was nodding in understanding. "Ah, ok." He paused, listening to her story. It was a much more peaceful one than his own. "I can't see you not being BlizzardClan's head medic. It comes so naturally to you, you see." His lower-pitched voice was picking up again as he commented towards her story. She brought back the cigarette topic and the lupine was shaking his head. "It's fine, Iselotta." He was organizing his own equipment as the two spoke then. "I didn't really get to show interest, it was more just — I was too skinny for combat. My home before DarkClan — they chose what you'd do based on physical appearance more than anything else. I wouldn't trade helping clanmate for anything though." Would he of traded it? The memories he held with him? No, no — fuck of course not.

She was speaking to him again, noting the herbs upon the table. "Thanks again, I'll... replace what I can of what I'm takin'." He paused, taking a breath. "I always felt like we had nothin' in DarkClan. Enemy clans kept stealin' from us because they didn't have much either."

[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px;text-align:justify;width:550px]First Lorraine, now Rowena. Benjamin hadn't really been able to catch on quickly to who exactly was new upon the border — yet as he broke through the growing brush his own pale blue eyes were widening. He was apparently late to the scene, as she'd already been accepted. With his gaze slowly sliding over Loveletter, Pierce, and Sweetophelia — the wolf found himself to be dreaming again. Him and Rowena had been good friends, yet he hadn't seen her in... hell, forever. It made him feel unease with another member of his former clan joining, though he was still joyful. A tired, but of course — surprised expression inched itself onto his face. "Rowena, ah — hey." Was all the skinnier lupine was able to muster up, still stuck somewhere in that head of his. All that time he'd been disassociating himself from his old clan out of guilt was for nothing. Who'd show up next? Yuuma? To yell at him until his throat grew dry for leaving them? He was heaving a breath, shuffling his paws into the ground before looking upwards. Ironically, an unlit cigarette was placed in his jaws. The first time they'd really spoken was when she'd said something about it, but at this point — Ben couldn't remember if she'd scolded him or mentioned her love for alcohol. At the memory his ears were flattening. "It's Benjamin if you don't recognize me, yeah?" Ben was a bit more mature looking, a bit more tired — but still lanky. Still the same Benjamin Roe.

His head felt pretty blank, sparks of fear continuously bouncing within his chest at the sight of her. No, no, don't get him wrong — he was happy to see her like he'd been when seeing Lorraine. Though, the male kept looking behind her with a furrowing of his brows. It wasn't too obvious, but maybe she'd catch him looking around her frame. There was a gentle shaking of his head as he realized there was no one. His heartbeat slowed a bit as the wind smacked his coat back and forth. "It's good to see you again." His steadier voice shattered the silence that'd settled over the group momentarily. He was passing a side glance towards Loveletter, dipping his head and giving a weak and sheepish grin. "She ain't kiddin' about the sarcasm part." Benjamin was deciding to add in with a quick huff as he lifted his head again, trying to find her eyes as further memories crossed in front of his eyes. "Speaking of all your whiskey, how's that liver doin' anyways?" Ben found himself adding in his own sarcasm, though his eyes couldn't help but reflect some concern. Shit, of course. He specifically remembered speaking to her about all the drinking she did. Then again, his lungs were probably rotting away as they spoke.