Posts by WOLFBITE!

It was either sad or funny that Typhoonstrike felt the need to remind everyone that no claws would be used, and Wolfsbane couldn't decide which it was. When he'd been a rogue, sparring without claws hadn't been allowed. His father had wanted every lesson to count. He'd learned not to do that since joining WindClan, and he'd assumed that most of his Clanmates with foreign roots had learned to do the same. If Typhoonstrike's warning was really necessary, it meant that not everyone felt comfortable enough to put away their claws.

Turning pale eyes to his sister, he called, "You're not interested, Rose?" He'd thought that she enjoyed the freedom WindClan had given her, and that she would jump at the chance to show off skills that he and their father had once kept her from learning.

Wolfsbane's yellow gaze turned from the pebble he'd been idly pawing as he processed Lizardstar's call. The inky leader usually struck him as being self-assured; at very least, Lizardstar was determined enough that Wolfsbane had never doubted him. The change in his body language, then, was startling, although the brown tom would be just as uncomfortable if their roles were reversed.

He headed toward the group quietly, interest softening his features. His interest in gossip had always been self-serving, and he couldn't honestly admit to knowing much about Lizardstar's background.

The moor was blossoming. Soft, fresh blades of grass waved merrily beside the darker, brittle greenery that had covered the ground throughout the winter. Small flowers and weeds in a variety of hues were beginning to unfurl, and an aura of growth lent life to the formerly bare land.

Wolfsbane was returning from a successful hunt near the farm when the sound of rumbling shouts caught his attention. The noise was clearly from twolegs, and although he tended to avoid the farm's twolegs whenever they were out, he wanted to know what all the fuss was about. Creeping out to observe the scene from behind, he was met with the sight of three men planting a large bush into a hole. His first thought was the twolegs were once again doing something silly, and a dark spot of color on the bush seemed to confirm his suspicions. Were those red berries? All sorts of bushes grew berries, he knew, but Hawkpaw's recent warning about deathberries kept him rooted to the spot until the men finished and he was able to investigate.

Upon closer examination, there did seem to be red olive-like berries growing from the bush. Wolfsbane wanted to believe that twoelgs wouldn't plant a toxic bush on the border of their farm, but who really understood the workings of twoleg minds? It was better to be safe than sorry, and with that in mind, he returned to the camp and headed toward the medicine cat den. "I think I found a deathberry bush."

Wolfsbane hadn't been raised with the concept of StarClan, and although he'd tried, it was hard to believe in them - but faith was a lot easier when you had living proof before your eyes. Lizardstar's recovery, impossible by normal means, reinforced what he'd witnessed from WindClan's past leaders. StarClan existed, and even if they weren't all-powerful, they had some degree of power.

He thought that he'd managed okay while Lizardstar recovered, but the black leader had only been out of commission for a day. How much could really go wrong in a day? Still, Wolfsbane was relieved to spot Lizardstar padding from his den. Swallowing down the last bite of his mouse, he headed over.

"Feeling better?" Scorpionkit had already asked the same question and had already been answered but it was impossible not to say something. Lizardstar might look very much alive, but he'd been dead. He paused to give Lizardstar and Stormfeather their moment before wondering, "Do you really think more tunnel entrances will show up? We don't even know where this one leads." He was leery of sending a patrol to explore when the earth above might collapse and bury them, but that was Lizardstar's call.

If pressed about his favorite aspect of being deputy, Wolfsbane would freely admit that it was assigning patrols. The part of him that had been suppressed by Liverpool's dominance was thrilled with being the one to give the orders, and even his less feral side was mollified by the thought of doing something useful. Sitting beneath the shadow of Tall Rock, he called, "Warriors and apprentices, come for today's patrol assignments."

thanks for all the suggestions! i'm not totally sure what i'm looking for but some of those name sounds great. i'm gonna keep them in mind while i think about it some more

Offering Duckpaw a small nod in response to his greeting, Wolfsbane waited for a few others cats to show up before he started. "Rosebrier, Duckpaw, and Smokehaze, check out the border with RiverClan." He paused for a moment, eying Smokehaze with concern. Would she even be able to patrol, half-asleep as she was? She could take care of herself, though, and if she thought she was able to patrol, Wolfsbane wasn't going to baby her. "Lizardstar … Minkpaw, grab another warrior or apprentice and head toward the border with DarkClan." Like Minkpaw, he wasn't sure if medicine cat apprentices were supposed to patrol, but she'd trained as a warrior apprentice first. He doubted there would be any trouble with DarkClan, but if something happened, she wasn't defenseless.

Wolfsbane was accustomed to observing meetings alongside his family so it would be no surprise to discover his dark, fluffy shape outside the nursery, beside Fawnfrost. Aside from Fangkit's apprentice ceremony (and he was certain that the boy would be wrecking even more havoc once he was allowed to leave the camp), he wasn't sure what was on the agenda. He hadn't yet approached Lizardstar about a name change, although the need to had been gnawing at him for the better part of a moon.

Spirits above, but they attracted all sorts. The stranger lingering by the border was the odd sort, and Wolfsbane half felt his fur twitch with anticipation for something that he couldn't describe. As he approached the trio, the chocolate solid offered a brief nod to Smokehaze and Duckpaw, faint bemusement coloring his gaze as he examined the Russian Blue. Adler seemed both apathetic and jumpy at once, a strange combination if ever Wolfsbane had come across one. "WindClan's 'more than a few,'" he answered the male, maw crinkling as he parroted the loner's words. "Duckpaw was right; you'll need to see Lizardstar if you want to join." He nodded toward the apprentice, silently urging Duckpaw to lead the way back to camp. Wolfsbane wanted to remain where he could keep an eye on Adler, and if he was sure of nothing else, he knew that he'd either end up infuriated by the tom or utterly amused by him.

Lizardbounce

With the weather becoming warmer, it was getting harder and harder to resist to impulse to ignore his duties and find a warm spot in the sun to relax. Luckily, Wolfsbane had an iron will, and if anyone had noticed languidness to his normally stiff movements, they hadn't commented on it. At the moment, however, he'd given in to the urge to sprawl out and sunbath, and having his peace interrupted by an apprentice wasn't something that Wolfsbane enjoyed.

Straightening up and trying not to bear his teeth too much, he called, "Are you trying to train, Hollowpaw? Find someone to spar with and take it to the training grounds." He refrained from saying, "Don't do it in the middle of the camp, where the noise you makes disturbs everyone else," but the words were seconds away from leaving his tongue when his attention was snagged by the emotion in the apprentice's face and the tension filling his body. Bad mood starting to dissipate, he hesitantly added, "Is something bothering you?"

Whatever response Wolfsbane had been expecting, it wasn't the one that Hollowpaw gave. He stared at the apprentice for a long moment, trying to tell if the kid was off his rocker, when Lizardstar trotted over. The dark tomcat asked the question on Wolfsbane's lips, leaving the deputy to wait expectantly for Hollowpaw's answer. "They're not here," he assured Hollowpaw. "Spirits, kid. If you're seeing cats no one else is, maybe you should go have a chat with Rosevenom." Imaginary cats with red eyes didn't exactly sound normal to him, and more likely than not, it was something the medicine cat would have a better idea about than he would.

What was it with kits and cabin fever? Wolfbite had always been of the mind that as long as there were two adults accompanying them, there was no problem with kits leaving the camp. Of course, that had been before the whole mess with the tunnels and the poisoned river, and slowly but surely, he was starting to adopt the more conventional outlook. Approaching after Lizardstar, he aimed a faint smile toward Hollowpaw, dryly offering, "Or you could pretend Hollowpaw's an enemy warrior and attack him. I hear he's a master at sparring."

hokay, plan of action for wolfs

i'm losing muse for him, and if it doesn't pick up within about a month, i'm going to kill him off. since the next plot for him involves him being poisoned, if i kill him off, he just won't recover from it

1) so the river is currently poisoned and some of it seeped into the prey. wolfs is going to eat something that makes him sick and very weak. this is gonna be pretty hard for him since the last time he was "weak" was when he was living with liverpool. he had to constantly prove his strength or be punished, and this is going to show that he isn't as recovered as he thought he was.

2) if he lives, it's time for him to find some romance. wolfs is hetero but he is curious about the spectrum and biromantic, if the right guy gains his trust, he could theoretically convince wolfs to enter a sexual relationship - one that will make him unhappy but he won't want to say anything to his partner since he does like him. eventually, he'll have to work up the courage to stop pretending

3) possibly he could discover that he's part riverclan? his reaction might be fun to explore but i'd need to talk to lavs and dark about that first. oof, and figure out the logistics

Stars, he was tired. Tired didn't even begin to cover it. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally. The day had been a blur of patrols and training, just as the previous one had been. Wolfbite had two apprentices, one of them a former kittypet. The borders seemed to stretch on eternally, and although the rabbits had grown fat, they were fast. He didn't have the sleek build of a natural-born WindClanner, nor the stamina of one. He oughtn't complain; every warrior and apprentice did the same duties, every kit would grow to do them, and every elder had spent a lifetime doing them. He oughtn't complain and so he didn't, but stars above, he felt ready to fall over.

It was late out, the sun already kissing the horizon. Sharing tongues with the others hadn't relaxed him, as it usually did. The only thing that pierced through the exhausted haze hanging around him was a sharp hunger, and although he wasn't in the habit of eating before bed, the chocolate tomcat found himself heading toward the freshkill pile. It was nearly empty, of course. The only prey left were the tired offerings that hadn't appealed to anyone else throughout the day, and although the scrawny duck didn't particularly appeal to him either, he took it.

The duck felt funny against his tongue, the taste not what he had expected, but he was too weary to care. He hadn't had duck in weeks and he reasoned that anything odd about the taste was due to that. A few mouthfuls was all that he was able to tolerate, and he had to force his paws to dig a small hole to bury the remainders before he headed to bed.

The next morning he was awoken early by a sharp twisting in his stomach. He still felt woozy, as though he'd barely slept, and his mind felt thick and feverish. He'd barely staggered away from the knot of sleeping warriors before bile rose in his throat and reflexively, he opened his mouth. The pale liquid that came out was free of chunks, the sort of vomit that resulted from an empty stomach, with no signs of the contaminated fowl that he'd unwittingly digested. Groaning softly, Wolfbite spat a few times, trying to clear the burning sensation from his mouth.

// dumb boy ate something that was contaminated by the poisoned water riverclan warned about

Wolfsbane would have liked to say that his head snapped up as soon as he heard Haycloud address him but truthfully, he hadn't heard the ginger tom approach, and it seemed to take half an eternity before he was looking into those sky blue eyes. Was he okay? Okay cats didn't churn out their guts for no reason or feel as though they were surrounded by thick fog so chances were that he wasn't okay. He let out a faint snort and before he was forced to reformat his thoughts in a nicer way, Minkpaw arrived.

The scent of the sick nearly made him want to throw up again, and Wolfbite found himself fighting nausea as Minkpaw addressed him. Although the medicine cat apprentice hadn't even been training as such for two full moons, he didn't question her knowledge but rather tried to answer her questions. "Just now," he admitted, yellow eyes blinking rapidly. He could barely recall half of what he'd eaten the previous day but even a kit knew how to detect and avoid rotting prey. He shifted, paw dipping against the ground to knock some dust over the vomit, eyes flickering from Duckpaw to Smokehaze to Haycloud and finally back to Minkpaw. "Don't think I ate anything off. Definitely not berries." He knew better than that, and had he not been so uncomfortable, he would have shot her a look questioning the very need for that question. " … Is something going around?"

He was supposed to be staying close to camp while he recuperated but the last time Wolfbite had been stuck in the camp had been when he'd been under guard. The camp was limiting, its confines too small for an adult, much less a WindClan adult, who was used to the endless moors. He hadn't been born in WindClan but it had become his home, as it had become the home of his sister.

When he dragged himself out for a walk beneath the burning sun, Wolfbite didn't imagine that he'd come across the very sister who'd built a home alongside him. Family was a sore topic to him. He couldn't forget the cats he'd been born to, harsh as they were, and he couldn't replace them with the individuals he'd met in WindClan. There were only two other cats who'd made the journey with him from rogue to warrior, and he'd never been as close to Rosebrier as he was to Fawnfrost.

His dark ears lifted at the faint sound of his voice. His head was still buzzing from the contaminated prey he'd eaten, and for a long moment he wasn't sure if he'd just been imagining the voice. The moment passed quickly, replaced with anxiety and the scent of blood. Later, Wolfbite would wonder if he'd ever run faster.

Fawnfrost lay in the grass, blood pooling around her. He was distantly aware of Hollowpaw beside her but as he moved closer, his vision tunneled until it was focused on Fawnfrost alone. "Grace." His sister, his wonderful, soft, caring sister. He made as if to lift his paws to her chest, as though the faint pressure that he could provide would stop the bleeding. "Nonononono. Grace." His head swam, nausea and anxiety filling him to the point of bursting. Her wound was mortal but she couldn't die. She'd survived Liverpool. She'd survived one of their mothers killing the other. She'd survived the trip to WindClan and the process of acclimation. She hadn't done all that to bleed out like any common rat. "Grace, sis, you'll be okay. Please, Grace."

// i'll miss you (and grace) here!

Wolfbite still wanted to protest Lizardstar's decision to explore the tunnels personally. He understood the basic logic. Lizardstar had lives to give up for his Clan, but if that was the case, why was he bringing anyone with him? Better the leader should stay in the camp and simply sent an elite team of warriors out.

The chocolate tom lacked the energy to argue--or to attend the patrol, should Lizardstar change his mind. The sickness was taking a toll on him and he felt weaker than he'd been in moons. (Weak enough that his father would give up on him, his traitorous mind whispered, but Wolfbite was quick to quench the thought.) He pulled himself toward Lizardstar and Minkpaw, eyes wan as they flickered over the two cats. At least the patrol was being limited to those over eleven moons. "Good luck."