Runaway [private]

[Bombora]

~ Webpaw ~

---

    There was a snap that interrupted the rustle of leaves on a cold leaf-bare morning. A shrew's head dangled between the jaws of Webpaw, who panted and slobbered over his meal. The apprentice eagerly ate his catch. He had been desperate for a meal for a whole two days. Savage though his consumption of the prey was, he still shook violently. Webpaw almost threw up the contents in his stomach--but forced himself to swallow. His eyes were wide and frightful, a shadow of the confidence and self-assuredness they used to be alight with.

    It had been three days since he started living off the land around RavenClan camp. Three days since he lost to Sootpaw, RavenClan's medicine cat, in a spar and refused to attend to his own wounds afterwards. Seven days since he had lost a bout to his mentor. During the time he was gone, Webpaw had run away from every altercation with other clans. Webpaw lost something besides a tooth since breaking his jaw. The ragdoll's insomnia had returned full force. Starved, beaten and despondent, Webpaw was dying. He could feel it. He was... slow. After he licked his lips to ingest any spare morsels from the shrew, he sighed. I was never good at hunting. Not like her. Rowanpaw could catch birds, fish, probably a hawk if she really tried... 

    Webpaw flinched at the sour memories that swept over him like a ravine.

    What am I trying to prove out here? Webpaw looked around passively. No enemies in sight. No giant bird to bring back as a trophy. No victory was coming. If he stayed outside of camp another day, he would die in the snow. Will beating up some hapless FireClan apprentice suddenly make me strong? Will bringing back a falcon undo how I mistreated Rowanpaw? Rowanpaw… Roawanpaw… The apprentice closed his eyes and contorted his face painfully. I miss you so much. I just want to apologize to you, even though I don't deserve forgiveness. I wish I could take it all back. I don't even have the strength to acknowledge you exist anymore. All I do is run towards some vague notion of strength that doesn't mean anything. My struggle is pointless. I've been--… 

    snap...

    Another crack echoed through the woods. Webpaw looked around to find where the noise came from. It sounded so close. The tom's head whisked from side to side as if on a swivel, mouth open to taste the air. "Hello!?" he called. "Is somebody there!? Anybody!?" he mewed. Then, Webpaw's eyes widened with some deep understanding. Slowly, wretchedly, he turned his head downwards.

    The tip of his left ear had broken off completely. The remains of the top of his ear were swept away by a sudden gust of snow. 

    Webpaw screamed.

---

OOC Notes:Pan

[Pan]

I n the eerie quiet of leafbare, RavenClan territory—once permeating with the scuffles and shrieks of prey—felt more akin to a ghost town than a place of comfort. The canopy rattled drily with the wind, and down below among the shadows and snow, the undergrowth was swallowed by thick white blankets. Prey, once plentiful, huddled in their dens, while those of the more avian variety perched among the topmost branches, far out of reach. Nothing moved, not even as the sun rose and cast its pale light over the territories—nothing, that is, except a small ginger-and-white she-cat.     Her body pressed low to the ground, her tail trailing behind her, she skirted noiselessly from cover to cover, using the brittle branches of bushes and ferns to hide her bright pelt. Ahead of her, a squirrel was sifting through the snow. Its fur was dull grey against the white surface of the snow, and its tail twitched busily behind it. It did not seem to notice the cat that flitted closer and closer, and even as Rowanpaw nestled not but a few tail-lengths away, it still did not scurry for the shelter of its tree.     Rowanpaw could not have asked for better luck. It had been days since her last successful catch, and she still bitterly remembered the vole she’d chased near the lake. It had been one of the plumpest pieces of prey she’d laid eyes on since the snow had begun to fall, and even now, as she moved closer and closer to the squirrel, she deeply regretted missing it.     I guess it wasn’t all bad. I did save that tom, she reminded herself, reflecting on the past events.     After losing the vole, she’d caught wind of a FireClan cat just as they’d plummeted into the lake. Had she not been there, they would have drowned; that was more than enough to make up for the loss of the vole.     Of course, with leafbare in full swing prey was only increasing in value, and as she inched a step closer, her thoughts again became absorbed with the hunt.     All it would take was one leap, and then she’d—     A scream split the air, cutting through the silence like a claw. It made the fur along her spine stand on end, sent the birds squawking from their perch, and—most importantly—scared off her squirrel.     Her head swung around just in time to see its bushy tail disappear up the trunk of a fir tree, and as she chased after it, she let out an irritated his as her paws struck bark. Tipping her head back, she squinted as woodchips were send cascading down into her face, thrown down by the squirrel as it hastily retreated into its burrow.     And just like that, all her hard work was gone.     Groaning, she slid her paws miserably down the bark, ignoring the rough feeling of the bark as it scratched against her pads. She’d been stalking that squirrel for ages; losing it was almost as bad—if not worse—than losing the vole. Not because it had been a perfectly good piece of prey, but because somebody had ruined her chances of catching it.     Speaking of which…     Her eyes narrowed into dangerous slips as she spun around, abandoning the tree as she raked her gaze over the empty clearing. But there was nobody there, and the forest remained still and unforthcoming.     But there has to be somebody out here. I couldn’t have imagined that scream.     Tipping her head back, she tasted the air. Crisp scents rushed back towards her, a blend of pine sap, squirrel and… RavenClan?     She frowned and sniffed again.     That was RavenClan, alright, but the scent was odd. It smelled slightly rancid as if its owner was on the verge of death; on top of that, it was oddly familiar, too.     Grimacing, she stepped off into the forest, keeping low as she crept over the gnarled roots of trees and swerved around the reaching arms of bushes. She kept on like that for some while until she stepped lightly into an empty clearing. Sunlight blinked through the prevailing canopy, dappling the snow.  And sitting there, eyes wild with fear, was Webpaw.     She narrowed her eyes the minute she laid eyes on him. Even if she were kind of excited to see him, he’d still scared off her squirrel.     “You!” her voice was a mixture of surprise and annoyance. She’d sworn she’d never talk to Webpaw again, but when word spread he’d left RavenClan territory, she’d been just as anxious as his mentor had been. To see him now—and alive, for that matter—was more than she could have asked for, though she was too stubborn to let her delight reflect on her face. “Of all the—Are you out of your mind? You made me lose my squirrel! That was the best catch I’ve seen in days!” WORDS: 811 TAG: Bombora (Sorry about the length)

credit to nat of adoxography.

[Bombora]

~ Webpaw ~

---

Was that an eye? An icy blue orb rolled down a little mound of snow before Webpaw could catch it. Cracks reached all over his frame. More of him broke off. Countless, tiny fragments of his body piled together to form a macabre display. His nose peeled off as if a sharp rock had been ground against his face. Teeth carried by saliva pooled out of his maw and onto the stained red snow. Webpaw heard a ringing in his brain. It got louder, and louder, and louder, and louder, and louder until the apprentice wasn't even aware of whether or not he was screaming at all. He saw his own heart palpitate as it fell out of his open chest. A raven picked it up and flew away.

"Are you out of your mind? You made me lose my squirrel! That was the best catch I’ve seen in days!"

The ragdoll blinked slowly. Blinked with two eyes. Webpaw slowly careened his head from left to right and worriedly flicked his ears. They were still there. All of his fur was on his pelt, too. No gaping wounds except for the nasty bloody scar on his back that was dealt to him by Sootpaw. The seal-pointed vagrant gasped. He felt the sharp leaf-bare wind and RavenClan scent in his lungs. At least, he thought he did.

I'm dreaming while awake. It's only gotten this bad one time before. Can't trust myself when I'm like this. I need to get somewhere warm and try to rest. Webpaw fought back the urge to just give up and sleep here. What was that voice, though? Another trick of the mind? My desperation? Webpaw frigidly readjusted himself to scrutinize the she-cat who addressed him. Am I even capable of imagining a voice that annoying? She sounds real enough. Well, this certainly isn't the reunion I hoped for. I'm not sure if parts of me are actually missing, or I've completely lost my grasp on reality.

Webpaw bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to bleed. A bad habit to check his senses and keep him grounded. Oh well, If he were to die here, Webpaw doubted StarClan would reprimand him much for inflicting a bit of self-harm. "Rowanpaw," he mewed weakly. "Do you really want me to answer that? I've been out of my mind for a long time now. Anyway, I could uh... I guess..." Webpaw closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "I need help."

---

OOC Notes:Pan

[Pan]

A nger pricked at Rowanpaw’s pelt as she stood there in the snow, her fur hackles raised and her green eyes narrowed to slits as she patiently awaited an answer. But instead of getting one, she was instead met by Webpaw’s blue, hazy eyes, by his rank scent and a low, raspy mew as he addressed her.     She flinched at the sound of his voice. Compared to the apprentice she’d spent time with in the snow, he was but a shadow of his former self as he sat there looking as mad and rabid as a raccoon.     “Do you really want me to answer that? I’ve been out of my mind for a long time now. Anyway, I could, uh… I guess…” his voice trailed over as he drew in a deep breath. Obviously, he was getting ready to say something he wouldn’t usually say, something that made her strain forward to hear him as he finished. “I need help.”     Help? From me? Anger made way for disbelief as the ginger-and-white she-cat regarded Webpaw. He was the last cat she would ever expect to ask for assistance from anyone—even her. He was always so irritable and closed off she couldn’t blame anyone for keeping their distance; though, of course, that was partly the reason she liked him so much. She preferred a tom that could rely on their own instincts and abilities than one who was constantly groveling at the feet of others, begging for help.     Still, that only added to her shock as she met his icy stare.     She hadn’t realized before, but Webpaw looked especially battered the way he was. Blood stained his flank and back where claw marks had left nasty furrows in his flesh, leaving an unnerving streak of red along his backside that made her stomach churn. Did he get into a fight? Her fur bristled at the thought, and she studied the shadows that pressed to either side as if an enemy would come springing out at any second.     But, of course, that never happened, and after a while of anxious glances, she relaxed a bit—or enough to speak sensibly.     “I guess I don’t, but seriously, Webpaw, you have no business being out here on your own. Don’t you know how cold it is?—how little prey there is to catch? If I hadn’t come across you, you probably would have starved,” she said, her eyes especially round at the thought of going longer than a day without a mouse—even a scrawny one—to eat. Then she added, a bit more softly, “But you already knew that, didn't you?”     Something snapped in the depths of the forest, forcing her gaze before she looked back at him. “And I guess I don’t have any other option but to help you. So… here. Use my shoulder. I know a place that’s warm where we can talk.” Though her definition of warm was slightly skewed considering the frigidity of leafbare, she figured anything was better than sitting out in the open, exposed to the glaring eyes of predators and foes alike.     Leading him into the thick of the woods, they walked towards a fir tree that’s gnarled roots reached up by crooked fingers. At the base, there was a shallow alcove that was protected from the wind, and it was there that she nudged him, sliding down to curl alongside him and flinching at the cold that seeped from his body.     Once she was settled, she turned to face him, her breath slipping from her mouth like thin trails of smoke. “Alright, I helped you—now it’s time for you to explain yourself, and more importantly what happened there.” She motioned at his back. WORDS: 613 TAG: Bombora

credit to nat of adoxography.

[Bombora]

~ Webpaw ~

---

Webpaw supposed he'd have to hear a lecture sooner or later, but he never thought that Rowanpaw would chew him out. Embarrassed and ashamed, Webpaw's gaze struggled to keep eye contact with the spitfire. He deserved to be berated. The ragdoll despised himself for sinking to this point. Meditation, training, solitude--none of it brought him much success. He couldn't even fend for himself with his injuries. She was right, again. There wasn't a real point to the way he was behaving. Hypocritical. Insane. Stupid.

A mouse could probably knock me over with a squeak at this point... I wish I was more like you, Rowanpaw.

Webpaw's own bitter self-loathing had taken physical form. Defeated, scarred, and nearly frozen to death, his pride didn't win him much. Whatever scraps he had left compelled the apprentice to carry himself beside Rowanpaw without using her shoulder for support. Webpaw limped into the raised roots of the fern tree, shouldered through two branches, and collapsed into the dirt. The strands of white light that poured through the alcove illuminated his bloodied back. It rose and fell shakily with his breath. His irregular breathing slowed when they were both settled. He was ready for another tongue lashing, but felt even worse to answer Rowanpaw's questions. Could she just give me a break for one second? Gah, you're such a... whatever. Webpaw audibly sighed.

"I lost a fight with my mentor. It was supposed to be my 'graduation test'. I did it because I respected him and wanted to show him how much I've grown but... I lost."

"Then Sootpaw invited me to teach him how to fight. If anything, he only learned how much of a pushover I am. I lost to a medicine cat when I had the jump on him, Rowanpaw!" he exclaimed. "And I tried! I really tried! I didn't take it easy on him. I wanted to apply all I learned and I still lost. A cat that never trained to fight beat me in combat," he mewed. The words seemed to physically hurt him as his confession went on. "I'm picking fights with cats from other clans, eating snow, missing..." he stopped.

"I broke my jaw during that quest. I was the only one to get injured. I train every day, Rowanpaw! But it's always the same! I ended up hurting you. Why did I do that? I can't take it anymore!" he mewled. "It just feels like the entire forest is against me! Like the whole thing is pointless! Like I'm a loser and I will always be a loser!" he broke down, baring his heart to the only cat left in his pathetic life. Everything was out of him now. The toxicity, that poisonous pride. He had hit Rowanpaw with the full force of his immense sadness.

---

OOC Notes:Pan

[Pan]

A hush fell over the pair as Rowanpaw waited. Her breath billowed in the air and her eyes, like dark, glittering chips of jade in the half-light, never strayed from Webpaw as she regarded him.     Not long ago the sight of him would have delighted her. Just meeting his gaze had sent a rush of warmth through her body. But not anymore, she reminded herself stubbornly. Not after what he did. Don’t forget how he attacked you… he’s just like everyone else. Her claws sunk into the earth and she lowered her gaze to stare at her paws. She’d left deep furrows in the ground, and as she studied them with a detached fascination, Webpaw’s voice jerked her back to the present.     His voice was weak as he retold the events that had led up to his journey into the forest—from him losing against Fogfish to his loss against Sootpaw, of all people. It hardly seemed befitting of a cat like him, and as Rowanpaw listened, she could not help the repulsion that pricked at her coat as he began to conclude his story, his voice quivering with a sadness that she forbid herself to feel.     “I broke my jaw during that quest. I was the only one to get injured. I train every day, Rowanpaw! But it’s always the same! I ended up hurting you. Why did I do that? I can’t take it anymore!” She flinched at the intensity of his conviction, but still, she did not meet his gaze. She knew that when she did her resolve would crumble before her—that she’d walk right back into his life as if he hadn’t wronged her.     I’ll never forgive him. Never ever. She clamped her eyes shut and kept her head bowed.     “It just feels like the entire forest is against me! Like the whole thing is pointless! Like I’m a loser I will always be a loser!”     This time she couldn’t help herself; she looked at him long before she had the time to think of doing otherwise.     And what she saw was a broken cat, so lost in his sadness that any trace of his former confidence had all but drifted away; she saw a cat that had laid themselves bare to her.     But for what?     Try as she might, Rowanpaw could not figure out why Webpaw was telling her the things that he was. After all, he’d never shown the least bit of appreciation for her affection considering the incident at the medicine den; if anything this was just a trap to reel her in, and she was not about to take the bait, even if she did feel sorry for him.     “Look, I don’t know why you did the things you did. All I know is that you’re being an absolute mouse-brain right now,” she said at last. “I mean, just think about it. Who cares if you lost against your mentor? Who cares if Sootpaw beat you? I know I don’t, and neither should you.” She met his gaze then, giving his flank a hesitant flick with her tail tip. “…besides, weren’t you the cat that told me to let my actions speak for me? Wasn’t it you who told me to keep fighting for what I believed in?” a pale cloud slid from her maw as she considered him. “What happened to that cat? The Webpaw I knew would never run into the woods like some mouse-hearted rogue. He’d keep fighting and trying until he proved everyone wrong—not grovel in the snow, half-starved and too weak to walk.” Her eyes narrowed. “So stop feeling sorry for yourself. You’re better than that—better than… this. I know you are, and you do, too.”     As she finished, she felt the warmth creeping up into her ears—heard her heart thrumming in her chest and the sound of her breathing as a feeling of nervous dread crept over her. Now look at what you’ve done. You’ll only make him angrier at you.     Not that it matters. He deserves what he gets, another, smaller voice put in.     She grimaced, silencing the voices in her head as she anxiously awaited his response. WORDS: 699 TAG: Bombora (no wait this time)

credit to nat of adoxography.

[Bombora]

~ Webpaw ~

---

Webpaw wanted to apologize for being so emotional. He wasn't used to vulnerability. The seal-pointed tom shook, kneaded the ground, and purred to soothe himself. Webpaw faced his old companion, but it was like he stared right through her. His contorted expression softened as she went on, like a tight knot of hair gently undone. The slender cat's shoulders slouched and his ears turned intently as Rowanpaw's makeshift therapy reached him. Her words were as blunt as stones from the river.

No enlightened epiphany came upon the miserable cat's visage when she was done. Although, she might have seen the gears turning in his head as she awaited his reply. Webpaw's eyes darted from side-to-side as he echoed some of her words with an empty voice. Socially awkward as ever, the semi-loner struggled to come up with something. Was it even worth salvaging anything from his little expedition? If he were to improve and expand his capacity for strength, how would he go about it if searching for it on his own proved unfruitful? What was strength? Whatever it was, it certainly couldn't be attained by committing suicide. To die alone in the cold was too pathetic. He deserved a warrior's life just like the countless cats before him did. He owed it to the ones that died in their dens to see this life to the fullest. To live as a warrior.

"I really am a mouse-brain..." he acknowledged with a little grunt. "I'm sorry I pushed you back there. I'm envious of you, Rowanpaw. You improve constantly, while I just get hurt and whine. I was frustrated I wasn't on your level. Still am."

Webpaw nodded. "Maybe you really can use that mouth for something other than scaring off prey," he jabbed. "Although, I guess I don't have any room to speak after wailing like a little kit, huh?" Webpaw shook his head in disbelief. Everything was so extreme to him all day and all night. He couldn't even appreciate a silent hunt after all this time. He missed the simple things. Webpaw still looked distressed despite his decidedly less intense dialogue, quivering and twitching in the cold light that shined through the roots of the tree. He took a deep breath. 

"I think there are pieces of me that might never come back," he mewed. "Some of these injuries won't heal right. Sootpaw's definitely going to yell at me. That silly medicine cat..." he stood up and shook out his pelt. Wistfully, he tapped her back with his tail. "Let's go home."

---

OOC Notes: Pan

[Pan]

S he'd expected a sharp rebuttal, but when she wasn’t met with one, she felt the tension in her shoulders relax and her ruffled fur lie flat. That went… way better than expected, she thought with a sigh of relief. The last thing she’d wanted was another argument with Webpaw. He’d been so on edge; lately, it felt like the only sensible way to approach him was by creeping over eggshells in the process. One wrong move and StarClan only knew how he’d respond.     But he seemed to be better in that regard, and she studied him curiously as he remained silent, his brow furrowed as if he were lost in thought and not an inch of him seeming the least bit menacing or angry—only sad and frustrated.     Finally, he salvaged something worth saying.     “I really am a mouse-brain,” he mewed with a small grunt. “I’m sorry I pushed you back there. I’m envious of you, Rowanpaw. You improve constantly, while I just get hurt and whine. I was frustrated I was on your level. Still am.”     Shock lit her gaze as she turned her green gaze onto Webpaw and she realized, with surprise, that he meant it.     Jealous? Of me? Rowanpaw looked at Webpaw as if his head had been replaced with a toad, and perhaps it had been. After all, who would be jealous of her of all cats? I’m the most useless cat in the clan. Everyone hates me, and I’m always making mistakes. What could he possibly be envious about? But try as she might she found no answer in her thoughts and shooed them away when Webpaw kept talking.     “Maybe you really can use that mouth for something other than scaring off prey,” he teased. “Although, I guess I don’t have any room to speak after wailing like a kit, huh?”     “No, you sure don’t,” she said, though this time, instead of growling at him like she’d previously done, she flicked his shoulder with her tail, a purr rumbling in her throat. “But that’s ok. I forgive you. For everything.”     She looked aside, welcoming the hush that fell over them again. It felt nice being in Webpaw’s presence. He wasn’t like the other apprentices that were always teasing her. He actually listened to her—sometimes, anyway—and that was more than she’d known throughout her entire life of being pushed aside and ignored.     “I think there are pieces of me that might never come back,” he mewed. “Some of these injuries won’t heal right. Sootpaw’s definitely going to yell at me. That silly medicine cat…” He pushed himself to his paws and shook out his pelt, then tapped her back with his tail. “Let’s go home.”     “Yeah,” she mewed back, standing up and making back in the direction of camp. As the padded amongst the blackened trunks of the pines and firs, side by side, their pelts just faintly brushing, she said softly, “Let’s go home.” WORDS: 487 TAG: Bombora

credit to nat of adoxography.