Tawnypainter
shadowclan elder
It had been made official soon after Smokestar's passing. Tawnypainter had finally retired. He'd struggled to adjust to a new den, after so many years in the warriors' den; somehow, the elders were louder in their sleep than the warriors, despite only having a third their numbers. He felt cheated; he felt like he'd had his prime stolen from him, and he had no-cat to blame but himself. As he lay in the clearing outside the elders' den, he attempted to clear his head of such negative thoughts. What was done was done; no amount of wallowing in self pity would change his circumstances.
Despite the ache in his hip and forepaw from the cold, the painted tom had to admit that the fresh layer of snow over the camp was quite a sight. Of course, by now it was disturbed by pawprints from the dawn patrol, but the pale morning sunlight still glinted off its surface. He supposed it was a good a time as any to get up and moving; though his paws felt like lead and his tail fell sadly behind him, he stood. There had been a time when Tawnypainter had been prideful; he'd been proud to the point of arrogance, even. He didn't seem to have any of that fire left in him. His fall had taken more than just his mobility from him.
The elder tom breathed a heavy sigh, preparing himself for his walk that would most likely end with him giving up ten steps out of camp. Hobbling awkwardly, now having to accommodate both his bad paw and his limp hind leg, he made his way toward the entrance of the camp. He was humiliated, struggling to make it even that far. Some-cat was bound to offer him help, and he didn't think he was ready to deal with that so early in the day. If he was lucky, he'd make it out of camp before any-cat noticed him. He could only hope.
Tawnypainter
shadowclan elder
Dustyfrog's complaints caused the tom's expression to soften. He knew he wasn't really missing anything exciting, being unable to join the patrols. He knew that he should be grateful to have a chance to rest now. Hearing his mate so displeased with his duties helped soothe his sorrow. The younger tom's gentle nudge brought a chuckle to Tawnypainter's lips, and he rolled his eyes in faux annoyance. "They were my least favorite part of being a warrior," he admitted, shaking his head slowly.
Turning his eyes to the sky as the other tom commented on the weather, Tawnypainter gave a small hum. "The cold isn't the best for old injuries," he added, ears falling to his skull briefly. Small talk had never been his strong suit; he'd always been uncomfortable with pointless conversation. And so he decided to mention a thought he'd been having for some time now. "Hey, Dustyfrog?" he began, pausing in his steps. "Have you ever thought of having kits?"
Dustyfrog |Warrior of Shadowclan|
Feeling his cheeks warm up at seeing Tawnypainter brighten considerably when seeing him. Dustyfrog loved that he still had an affect on the older feline, that he could still help Tawny momentarily forget about his predicament. Jade green eyes shining brightly in the morning light as he joins the two-tones brown feline on a little stroll. Easily getting a slow manageable pace as to not wear the other out so quickly. The dusty brown and white warrior was already up, seeing no point in trying to go back to sleep, besides keeping his love company sounded more enjoyable than sleeping by himself anyways. Flicking his fluffed tail side to side as he relaxes against Tawnypainter. “I am glad you had a good night” Dusty beams, his previous worry that Tawny would feel left behind dwindled slightly.
Humming a soft tune as they continue through the pine forest. Snow crunching beneath their heavy steps, resting his cranium upon Tawny’s every once in a while. He loved it when it was just the two of them, mostly because that’s when it felt true between the two. Dusty had known the tom next to him for a while now, and had learned that Tawnypainter felt more comfortable being his charming self when they were alone. Dustyfrog loved being one of the only ones seeing this side to him. It gave him special kind of feeling, wincing slightly at the word patrol escaping his mouth. Flashing the older tom a sheepish smile, “Patrol was…patrol. Nothing interested happened” he admits with a long sigh. “Besides having to get up at the crack of Dawn. Swear it was better when I was an apprentice” the brown white tom complains.
“You are not missing much. I know how interesting you found patrols” he teases, lightly bumping into Tawny with care. “I cannot wait for Leaf-Bare to be over with. The snow feels so confining” glancing around as he speaks, lightly kicking up snow as if to make his point. “Never been a fan of the cold” wrinkling his nose as he snuggles closer to Tawnypainter. He knew that he was making pointless conversation, but learns that sometimes the small talks were more meaningful.
Tawnypainter
shadowclan elder
The sight of Dustyfrog was enough to draw the painted tom from his self pity, his ears perking immediately as his mate approached. Thankfully, Tawnypainter had always been easy to distract; it didn't take much to break his wallowing and bring a smile to his lips. It was just in those moments he found himself alone that he struggled. He leaned gratefully into Dustyfrog's side as the other tom pressed close, nuzzling him affectionately. "Morning," he returned, a purr growing in his chest. Lifting a paw to wave it in dismissal-- his bad paw, so as to not throw himself off balance-- he gave a small hum in response to the younger tom's question.
"It was as good as any," he offered, a lopsided smirk touching his lips. "How was the patrol?" he questioned, gut twisting as he was forced to realize, yet again, that he'd never be tasked with a dawn patrol again. They'd always been his least favorite, given he couldn't get to sleep until late any night, but he found he missed the inconvenience. At least he'd been useful then.
DustyFrog |Warrior of Shadowclan|
Blinking the sleep from his jade green eyes, he could feel the cold dry air nipping at his thick pelt as he pads through the dense pine forest. Dawn patrol was finally over, he had veered off from the others once having been dismissed from patrolling any further. The morning was quiet, not even many mockingjays could be heard singing their morning hellos, the wintery morn was definitely a harsh reminder that they were in Leaf-Bare now. If it weren’t for the fact the season brought famine and illness, he would rather enjoy the winter season. Something about seeing the powdered snow covering the ground and outlining the bare trees brought a certain tranquility to the territory. The pureness often associated with white was a double edge sword. The white snow purifying the land to be reborn next season, but at the cost of loss. Leaf-bare often brought out the weakness of many and showing true forms of nature.
Pursing his lips as the white and dusty brown warrior could not help but let his thoughts wander to his boyfriend, Tawnypainter. The lad honestly had no idea on how to help the older feline regain his spirit. He had hoped that after moons since the tragic accident, that the two-toned brown feline would be able to push on and overcome his injuries. Yet, Dustyfrog was not so sure now…his love has lost his spark that lightened his features. His joyful laugh, teasing grin, and thrill for adventure had vanished the moment his hind leg became lame. How could Dustyfrog not blame himself? Exploring that underground cavern had been his idea and now Tawnypainter was hurting. Not as much physically than mentally. He knew that Tawny did not blame him and would certainly scold him if he dared to voice his thoughts. But the thoughts remained.
They never left him. The guilt ridden thoughts and emotions had warped into a solid black shadow, always pressing heavily in the back of his mind. Even though that shadow was not real, the weight was. He could sense his mind weakening, buckling to remain optimistic for the sake of Tawnypainter. Dustyfrog had no one to vent to, as he already knew that most of his family disagreed with his choice of a partner, why bother when he knew what their advice would be? No. He would figure out on his own how to bring the light back into Tawny’s eyes. Sighing softly, though with the deafening silence around him, the breath seemed to amplify between the trees. Heading in the direction of home, he needed to see him, needed to know that he was alright.
It was pure luck that Dustyfrog happened to be coming while his boyfriend was going. Instantly his green eyes brighten, a warming smile appearing on his lips. Picking up his pace, flecks of snow flurrying around him in his swift movements. Purring as he carefully nuzzles into Tawnypainter’s side, welcoming him as well as subtly becoming the other’s anchor/support. “Good morning Tawns” the nickname rolling easily off his tongue. Pecking the other’s cheek in a simple yet sweet kiss. “How was your night? Sorry I couldn’t stay with you…didn’t want to wake you up with having to get up early” Dusty says with a sheepish look—knowing better than to mention patrolling as to not upset him further.