[ti]Private[/ti]Adjusting to Home

[Storm]

BATSTRIKE
MothClan | Warrior | Tom | 12 Moons | Heterosexual

In the tree the feline felt fear building in his chest as Shadowstorm visibly began to slow. Batstrike’s tail lashed behind his, black claws digging into the safety of the bark beneath him. His former mentor had always looked out for him, even past the point of appreciation at times. Sometimes it came across that he didn’t think Batstrike was capable enough on his own and the big tom felt responsible for it. He had only ever wanted to make Shadowstorm proud and this feeling really hung on the young tom. Now here he was a safe-injured-failure while Shadowstorm stepped forward to face the danger with broken back up. The black and white warrior would never forgive himself if his former mentor, who had done everything from help the tom become a great warrior, join a strong clan he could grow in, and defend him now was killed. Batstrike had focused on the other tom as he made it onto the trunk, relief crossing as he was sure the tom had made it safely. 

He hadn’t even noticed Shadowstorm’s pause, but terror filled his wide yellow eyes when the beastly stray leapt and caught the cat in error. A distinct pop sounded above the hissing and growling. It wasn’t instinct or a reaction to the cats piercing howl that caused Batstrike to prepare to jump down on the dogs back, but strictly his loyalty to the tom in danger. Suddenly the pain he had felt before had disappeared without him even noticing, was it strange that adrenaline could make someone feel invincible? The black cat had made his move to escape quickly though and the young warrior was glad he had made his way back up before he had to move in. It was also clear that the dragging tom needed help getting into a safe position on the tree. Batstrike grabbed the bulky cat by the scruff and assisted in hauling him up onto the branch. He shouldn’t have bothered to acknowledge his ridiculous comment, but eyes set on his ragged leg he spat back, “I meant in one piece!” He turned his attention briefly to the circling dog, to ensure they were high enough to escape another one of its leaps. Convinced the two were safe he turned to Shadowstorm’s wound, concerned.

I don’t know anything about how to fix this, he racked through his mind cat-walking closer to get a better look, it’s obviously out of place from the awkward way it’s laying, he won’t make it back on his own paws. I don’t think I can stand to put it back… He thought with the sick feeling of a kick in the belly, besides could I make it worse if I do it wrong? He swallowed back the feeling difficultly. Eyes flicking to his sprawled out former mentors face. Luckly neither one of them would bleed out from their wounds, but he knew Shadowstorm was hurting, despite efforts to hide it. “We’re going to have to wait it out until the dog gets bored. We’re in no shape to run now.” He stated, including himself as to not single out the cats likely inability to drag himself that far a distance home. He tried to sound cool, in control, while his mind whirled with worry. His whiskers twitched as he scowled at the stalking dog, there was no reason to egg it on now, it would only take it longer to move on if they did. He couldn’t leave Shadowstorm here when it did leave either, he was in no shape to defend himself from other threats and with Cedarleap’s short legs it would take too long to bring her back to him. Batstrike could only hope the tom wouldn’t request he try to put the leg back in socket, that he would let the less injured cat carry him back. Pride aside, Shadowstorm needed the medicine cat’s attention more than him now- they needed to get back. He could care less about reporting the aggressive stray in MothClan territory, his concern was for the older warrior he didn’t show enough appreciation or respect for.

[Miss Tactical]

The black tom closed his eyes tightly with each throb. He would be up here for awhile, and quite frankly he wasn't sure how he would manage to get down. Climbing for him was easier than climbing down. He looked at the dog who paced in circles around the base of the tree. Shadowstorm raised his fur spitting at the large lug. "Get outta here you mangey flea bitten fox pelt!" He used just about every curse word he knew from the top of his head, which was slightly blinded by the pain from his leg. He looked at it dangling oddly and knew if he didn't get it back in place it would heal oddly, then of course he would walk funny and it would just go downhill from there.

The battled scarred tom dragged himself across the thick branch snapping a large twig off with his claws before placing it in front of him. He had a plan and he knew Batstrike wasn't going to like it, but it was something that had to be done. He grumbled a few words to himself before ever so carefully shifting to his side holding on with his front paws, claws digging deeply into the bark. His leg would have to be popped back into place if he wanted to get down. He also knew it was broken by the way it looked bigger than his other legs. Cedarleap would be able to mend it if he got back to camp, he just had to get there first.

He coughed eyeing Batstrike, grimacing with the slightest movements. "Here is what you are gonna do. Don't whine or argue." He mewed in a gruff tone. He knew he shouldn't be treating him like he was still an apprentice, Shadowstorm was proud of how far the warrior had come but, he just wasn't quite ready to admit that. "Put one paw right on my hip, and use your body weight to pop this sucker back into place." he slowly reached for his twig ready to chew on it. He knew it would be EXTREMELY painful "Now...don't screw up or I'll have a dead leg for the rest of my life and as en elder I'll make you feed me, groom me, and cater to me I don't think you would want that so don't mess it up." He mewed. He reached for his twig, grabbing onto it with his fangs and gave his apprentice a curt nod. He was ready.

[Storm]

BATSTRIKE
MothClan | Warrior | Tom | 12 Moons | Heterosexual

The tall feline shot his former mentor a glare as he threw a fit towards the beast below. It had paused from its pacing and began barking at the two cats again. Tail flicking in annoyance his whiskers twitched, drawing the dogs attention would only lengthen its interest in them but if that was how Shadowstorm wanted to act he’d let him. The pain from his own encounter with the snapping jowls was beginning to trickle back now as the safe setting calmed his racing heart. Batstrike flattened his ears against his square skull and took a few deep breaths. Yellow eyes holding on Shadowstorm as he drug himself around, he was going to fuss at him but he figured out what the tom was planning and disgust crossed his face. The tom snapped his head to look away and hide the face he had made. No, no. I don’t want to do it. Don’t ask me to. He stressed in his head as he felt his stomach knotting.

Sure enough there were the orders, he opened to his maw to make his point that he wasn’t trained to do such things. It shut immediately though, Shadowstorm had called him out before he even had the chance to do it. An almost twisted joke followed as if that would ease his hesitance. He had already feared worsening the situation, the thought of the strong cat he knew as an early elder was a bitter one. He swallowed hard shifting nearer to the older tom. Shadowstorm was wise enough to not give the cat any time to think it over, he was still compliant at the moment; young and looking to the experienced cat in a dangerous situation.

He gently laid a white paw on the cats hip, barely hovering his weight over it. He felt his former mentors fur and the misplaced bone beneath his paw pads. Batstrike felt a strange numbness in his mind and his body followed except for his pulsing shoulders and angry belly. The moment Shadowstorm gave his approving signal the tom stifled out his own joke blandly, “You’re already ornery enough to be an elder and look at me already taking care of you,” as he lifted and landed his second forepaw in the same place as his first. A sickening pop gave under his weight and he held his sickened stomach. Hopefully he won’t be deadlegged for the rest of his life because of me and hopefully I didn’t make the break any worse, he thought quickly casting his gaze away from the tom and his swollen leg. He didn’t want to look or think about it, he felt sick and detached from the entire situation now.

[Miss Tactical]

The black warrior yowled at the sickening pop and took in a sharp breath biting down as hard as he could on the twig, despite the pain and obviously broken limb, he could feel he had better movement in his back leg. After awhile, the pain seemed to numb down, probably because he was ignoring it, or had gotten used to it. The dog still seemed to be snuffing around, but after a few moments of Shadowstorm keeping his mouth shut, for once, the dog seemed to have gotten bored waiting for them and wandered off, and when that happened the black warrior let out a rather huge sigh or relief. At least now they would be able to climb down and head back to camp. The black warrior knew he would be out of commission that's just how it was. He was partially okay with that, sometimes it was nice to take a break.

"Well good ya didn't mess it up." He mused with a twitch of his whiskers. He knew he wouldn't have messed it up anyways it was all about building the boys confidence. He grumbled a bit as he shifted himself, ready to get out of the tree. He hoisted himself up on three legs before very carefully, and slowly cascading down the bark, one paw over the other. When his good back leg hit the solid ground, his heart finally started to beat slower. The hairs on the back of his neck began to lay flat. They had made it, they survived. He looked at Batstrike with a curt nod, he did good.

"You know I won't retire, I'm gonna be a warrior until the day I die, goodness starclan bless the soul of anyone who has to deal with me as an elder." He joked. Very slowly he wrapped his tail around his paws, keeping his back leg slightly lifted since he wouldn't be able to walk on it. He huffed slightly looking at the young warrior. "So much for ya grande tour. Maybe tomorrow."He mused with a twitch of his whiskers. Although he knew he wasn't going anywhere, it didn't hurt to lighten the mood. "Lead the way would ya, I'll be a bit slow behind ya." The black tom mewed firmly.

[Storm]

BATSTRIKE
MothClan | Warrior | Tom | 12 Moons | Heterosexual

Batstrike’s yellow glare followed the beastly dog as it meandered off. Lucky for us, the mousebrain already forgot us. In unison with Shadowstorm the tom let out a breath of ease, he found it a little funny despite the bad situation. He smiled over to his former mentor watching carefully as he awkwardly made his way down the tree. The tall feline leapt off the branch following, wincing at his shoulders from the landing. He lifted his dark nose and scented the air, the dogs stench still hung here, but his sharp eyes didn’t catch any movement. Batstrike turned his attention away from this concern, now he’d have to get Shadowstorm home.

He was just happy the older tom was safe, badly broken, but alive. It was his fault, he didn’t run when he should have and then he did run when he shouldn’t have. Even worse, if he hadn’t focused so much on making a show of himself to impress Shadowstorm maybe they both would have noticed the dog’s approach sooner. The whole event was preventable, but instead he was leaving with a soiled pelt. Hardly a scratch compared to the tom standing before him. He had done everything to prepare his apprentice for such situations, but Batstrike had failed here. Now Shadowstorm had sacrificed himself to save his failure of a student and paid the price for it.

Hiding his self-pity he looked at the big tom with a somber but relieved face. “Good.” Batstrike stated boldly, “I’d be the only one who’d put up with you anyway,” his expression shifted with more affection. “You’re not the type to laze and enjoy your days anyway. I’m sure you’ll be the oldest senior warrior ever, they’ll have to assign me specifically to watch over you.” He didn’t laugh, he knew the tom was probably serious. He’d go on for as long as he could. Maybe Batstrike couldn’t protect him now, but he would in the future. He smiled to himself now as he pictured Shadowstorm still a strong warrior despite old age. He doubted the cat would ever need his help, but he’d do his best to be there in case he did.

“It was more of an excuse to spend time with you anyway,” he chuckled, “Aren’t you glad you’re stuck with me?” The tom moved to his former mentors’ bad side, he’d just have to explore and find his mentors good spots on his own. He’d find them and keep them nice for when Shadowstorm healed and could return. “Nah,” he mewed in defiance. Pressing into his side so the tom could lean into his build, it would ease some of the toms walking issues. “Let walk home side-by-side. I can’t let you lag behind looking as pathetic as you do,” he teased, “We’re both proud MothClan warriors right?” He wouldn’t let anyone think down on either of them. Batstrike was ashamed of how he handled this situation, but his mentor acted brave and selflessly. He could be proud of the cat who trained him at least and do better in the future. He’d hold his head high as they walked back.

With that the tom smiled and motioned for them to start their slow walk back their clan. Let’s go hom- … Home? It sounds so casual now with all this in perspective. Batstrike’s whiskers twitched from his thoughts, how strange to be satisfied after something like this. He could be happy here, with Shadowstorm at his side and his brother safe back in camp. It may have taken a while, but he was adjusting to MothClan, to home.