[ti]Private[/ti]I'm not stressed, you are!

[bits]

LupTacco

Her head hurt.

Headaches were nothing new to Swiftwing - she had tension headaches, pounding headaches, stress headaches, headaches from overworking herself, headaches from clanmates... she had an endless slew of headaches to pick and (not so much) choose from. She would bet a vole or two that even asleep there was no reprieve - she wouldn't know, given that she was asleep. But she knew herself well enough to know that she was haunted for ever by these damned headaches. 

And this one was thanks for a certain missing deputy. Oh sure, there were replacements aplenty, but this deputy was her only remaining family and thus she felt... obligated to find him. She shouldn't care, but she couldn't help the anxiety that had locked her guts in a tight knot for the last few weeks or so.

So here she was, scowling as she walked the border alone. Again. This was the third time in as many days that she'd carefully walked this border, switching every few days or so to try and get through at least a border or two a day. Between that, trying to hunt, and training a new apprentice, the exhaustion was starting to weigh on her. But she wasn't about to give up on any of it.

Someone needed to be a rational adult around here.

[LupTacco]

Luckily for Swiftwing, a particular guy who was never one to be mistaken as a rational adult was making his way along the border.

Lately, just about anytime he was bored- and really, that was most times- he found himself drawn to this particular border. He used to excuse it as just wanting to jab at the clan he had left moons ago, but- no, no that was still the excuse, surely. In fact, it wasn't an excuse at all! He never found himself wondering spitefully if that pretty ginger fellow was on the border patrol for the day, and he certainly didn't look forward to exchanging words with him. They were utter rivals of each other in every way, surely. Stars above, listen to me prattle on to myself like some kind of twelve-moon-old queen.

Forcing himself to yawn and stretch his jaws wide, the air he drank in carried stale IvyClan and MothClan scents, but the wind seemed to be bringing a new one along. He did his best to ignore the slight feeling of disappointment when he wove around the base of a tree only to see some she-cat with a pensive look, seemingly looking for something. It was almost insulting that she happened to be ginger. "Hello, girl," he grunted, offering her a half-lidded look as he approached, "lose a mouse?"

[bits]

Hello girl.

Oh, great. Headache number two was approaching her, and it smelled like Mothclan. Her half-lidded eyes flicked to the tom in the process of asking her if she'd lost a mouse. It took everyone ounce of willpower in her body not to snark or snap at this tom. Maybe she should have - but words were never her forté and she couldn't react with much more than a roll of her eyes. 

"No."

She grumbled, clearly not ready to engage with another semi-sentient being. But now that he was here, she felt a bit of an obligation to stand her ground, given the recent border moves made between the two clans. Her narrowed eyes stayed on the stranger, and for a moment she considered just dismissing him. But... she had no leads, and she could feel the weeks of desperation beginning to simmer under her skin, so she was going to have to reach out.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

"Have... ugh. Have you seen a black tom around here lately? Looks like a walking pile of self-pity, has some heavy scarring?"

Starclan knew she was doing her damnedest to not feel like the dregs of the earth right now. Stooping so low as to ask another clan for leads on this... she could feel headache #3 on the horizon.