[ti]Private[/ti]Drift Away

[pants]

Ocelotjaw lay upright in the medicine cat's den, brushing his tongue over his white spotted paw before briskly dragging it across the back of his ear. Wash, rinse, repeat. It felt forever since the fire had happened, or at least to Ocelotjaw, as he had been stuck in Daisypetal's den for the majority of it. He was able to move around without much hassle now, but certain movements still brought a rush of pain through the tom's hind, the burns still running deep into his skin and scarring over. Though, the worst of it was his hind leg, which was permanently twisted. 

His left hind leg had healed and looked like nothing had happened, even though it sometimes ached. However, his right leg suffered a different fate. It was an ugly sight, bending in an unnatural way. And no matter how much Daisypetals tried to split it and return it to normal, it eventually became certain that fixing it was a lost cause. Ocelotjaw would have to live with his twisted leg for the rest of his life.

At least he had Cherryheart to keep him company. It was awfully dull in the medicine cat's den, especially as more and more warriors and apprentices left, free of harm and disease, whether they were dead or alive. And though Ocelotjaw didn't particularly like to talk to others, especially of his own clan, he had become interested in the constant chattering of the other cats. He learned about them from afar, watched them heal and grow. He saw new life come to be, and old and suffering ones pass on to StarClan. Perhaps this was why medicine cats did what they did. Though, hunting was definitely preferable to the lilac spotted tom. He'd probably go crazy if he had to stay in a tiny den all day, as he had been for the past few months. And it showed.

But during this time, the warrior had become fond of the frequent visits from Cherryheart, who decided to check up on him every so often. She seemed to not mind his prickly outside, or at least decided his well being was worth more than his choice words. Regardless, even if he didn't outwardly express it, he was thankful for the company and always looked forward to seeing her.

Ocelotjaw moved from grooming his ears to grooming his flank, licking over it with long strokes of his tongue. It had been a while since he'd done a full grooming, and thus he had to chew out tangles here and there. A sound caught his attention - pawsteps. The warrior's head instantly shot up, expecting to see the face of his MistClan friend. But to his surprise, it wasn't Cherryheart who padded into the den...

[LupTacco]

Brindleburr prowled through the MistClan entrance, shuddering at the spray of water that doused her sides as she slipped sideways a little- how did these cats ever get used to that? Crunching down a little harder on the pheasant in her jaws to contain a growl, the brown-furred tabby picked up the pace, pulling ahead of the MistClan cats who had served as both escorts and fellow hunters for the morning. "Watch yourself," one of them, the shaggy-furred Mothsnarl warned her, but made no attempt to stop her. It would be foolish of her to try anything anyway, with so many cats around. Based on whispers among the warriors in each clan, though, she suspected they would be returning home soon- or at least, returning to whatever was left of home. Speaking of home...

Ocelotjaw ought to still be in the medicine cat's den, hadn't he? That no-good lump of fur was still her brother, and it hadn't slipped past her that for once in his life he had done something selfless, saving Featherkit from the fire. It had been, what, a couple moons by now? Surely he should have healed. Slipping by small clusters of cats in the camp, she nodded roughly at Palesun and Shadowfall as they went about their own business before slipping into the den. Wrinkling her nose against the waft of mixed herbal scents and unhealthy skin, Brindleburr blinked to help her eyes adjust to the dimmer interior. Daisypetals was out, as well, it seemed, leaving only a few sleeping RootClan cats that she was easily able to step over until she reached Ocelotjaw lazing in the back.

"Ocelotjaw," Brindleburr nodded in greeting, taking a seat at his side, "How are you healing? Eveningstar will be bringing us home soon, so I'm sure he'd like to know how well you can travel."

[Miss Tactical]

Cherryheart rose to her paws, she made it her duty to help Daisypetals and his new apprentice. ”Here let me apply that to Ocelotjaw, I don’t need him snapping at you.” She gave the medicine cat a soft look before picking up the herbs that were clamping in his jaws and made one pit stop. The prey pile was meek but what else would it be with three clans feeding from it. ”This will have to do I suppose….” She murmured to herself before grabbing what appeared to be a scrawny mouse. There wasn’t anything else to choose from really. As she reached the medicine cats den a MothClan voice caught her ears she flattened her own before letting out a soft mew in greeting.

”Sorry to interrupt I’m just here to give Ocelotjaw his daily dose of pain.” She mewed before dropping the mouse at her paws. ”Don’t mind me just act like I’m not even here.” She very carefully chewed bitter herbs listening to the exchange about MothClan leaving. She wouldn’t be the first to admit that she would miss the tom, but they had made a spot for frequent border visits so perhaps they could do that once a moon to keep in touch aside from the gatherings. She rubbed the paste onto his legs noticing one had healed to perfection. ”From the looks of things he should be able to travel but slowly…” She looked at his twisted leg. ”Hobbleleg here may need assistance until he learns how to walk well.” She mused with a twitch of her whiskers.

”I’m just going to look at Daisypetals herbs stash let me know if I’m needed.” She had been doing her best sure they had Palesun and Shadowfall and Snakeleap all very capable of helping but they didn’t know the MistClan cats like she did. As she went to the back to herb store out of sight, Cherryheart swiveled her ears trying to catch bits and pieces of the conversation that Ocelotjaw and Brindleburr would share.

[pants]

The light in Ocelotjaw's eyes died a little bit when he realized that it was in fact, not Cherryheart. Instead, it was his sister, and not the slightly nicer one. He twitch his whiskers with a bit of a grimice. What did she want? It's not like she bothered to visit him that much. Probably too busy barking orders at others and defiling those who defy her. Here they were, back at their home, and even still, she couldn't just relax a bit.

"Oh... Hey.." He grumbled in greeting, brows returning to their normal furrow. The lilac tom tucked his paws under his chest, becoming a loaf whilist wrapping his tail - or rather, what was left of it - around his legs. His movements were stiff and uncomfortable, but he felt more at ease this way, considering the conversation between the two siblings could go down south at any moment. That's just how it was with them. When they weren't bickering, they were full on arguing. How they managed to stick with each other all these moons, Ocelotjaw had not a clue.

Cherryheart appeared behind Brindleburr, and the warrior craned his head to watch her come around. He smiled as the red tabby molly made her way into the den, only to hear her mention bringing him his daily dose of pain. The lilac tom playfully retorted with a gruff voice, "Ya know, Cherryheart, I'm starting to think you enjoy watching me writhe in pain." His attention was then brought back to his sister, asking him how he was and if he was ready to go home. Ocelotjaw pinned his ears back.

"I'm doing just fine, thanks." It was true. He was able to at least stand. Any sudden movements caused him feel another rush of fire through his pelt. But slowly, he would be able to walk. Cherryheart confirmed this as she began to apply the crushed herbs to his legs. "Yeah, I'll be able to wa- Ow! Hey! Watch it! You know that's where it's most sensitive." The tom snapped, looking to the MistClan warrior. The place where his leg met the rest of his body had still been sore, even after all these moons of healing. The burn skin on top didn't help his pain levels, either. And even though he had gotten better, there were still some spots that caused a foul reaction.