Dust In The Wind

That gathering had been a bust, and a rather loud one at that.

Dustbite had broken off from the group of returning cats shortly before they entered camp, opting to disappear back into the territory. He was dead on his paws after such a long journey to and back from the island, but he couldn't find it in his heart to inhabit camp at the moment.

It was too full, he was too full. The clans themselves seemed fit to burst once again at any moment, a second more metaphorical sunquake. There would never be rest, or peace. Just more of the same senseless violence and cats who fueled themselves on blind hatred or stupidity alone.

So the silver tom had disappeared into the urged forest, padding forward on aching paws as his mind was filled with both nothing and everything.

What was keeping him here? His uncle, Vaporwave. He had an apprentice, Spiderpaw. But what else? Cats who viewed him as a nuisance, troublemaker or free amusement? What about Emberclan was so great? Or any of them? A cat had literally just been left behind by Fireclan for criticizing the leader.

Cats in the forest were trained from birth to love their clan, their family and way of life. But what about when you couldn't even scratch off one out of three? The only cat in his family that even gave half a ratshit about him was his uncle, and even then...one cat a family did not make. At least not in Dustbite's mind.

He stopped, digging his claws into the ashen turf. This was insufferable.

"I'm sorry, Vaporwave." The quiet mew was nearly lost to the wind as it picked up, causing the charred tips of trees to scratch at the moon above.

And then he was lost to it as well, letting it guide him towards the river as his paws seemed to move on their own.

---

Dustbite hadn't stopped walking until the sun had begun to rise, it was only then that he realized the empty sort of tiredness that resonated within him.

He'd been following the river for a bit now, but his weary body was forced to stop. Here is one of the worst places he could choose to rest. The silver tom had hoped to be clear of this area by morning but he'd both overestimated his abilities to keep steady movement and underestimated the time it would take. And now he was too tired and too late.

All he could do now was sit hunched up by the flowing river on the edge of sleep, in enemy territory.

OOC NOTE: No need to mirror!

NOTE: This post has a warning for bad language!

The only thing that Beetleshell knew was that the gathering went to shit the moment Emberstar showed up. He'd not gone to the gathering on purpose, chose to not go so he didn't have to witness the two clans tearing each other apart again. Beetleshell didn't want to be part of that, really. Maybe he was the only one stuck on the fact that they'd grown up with the cats on the other side of the border, starclan or not. He didn't care much for starclan, didn't care that Emberclan kept it with them, or that Fireclan banished the idea of it. He didn't much care for listening to dead cats anyway, but to each their own he supposed.

What Beetleshell did know, though, was that he didn't want to be there when the rest of the clan lost their brains talking about how shitty the gathering was. He didn't want to listen to Pinefire getting pissed that the clan on the other side decided to show up when it was in their right to, or how Pinefire called them out, which it was in his right to. A lot of things were going wrong, and he could only wonder what Stormclan thought about all of it. Maybe they didn't care, considering how off-put they were about other topics. As far as he knew they didn't know about the things that went down before.

Beetleshell would return to the clan later, it was his job to do that. It was his job to serve his leader as a warrior, but that didn't mean he couldn't take a walk while they talked about shit he didn't want to listen to. The sound of another caught the tom's ears, and he turned to look at what was out there. Maybe it would be prey he could bring back so they didn't know he was slacking. Instead it was a warrior bearing the smell of Emberclan, the one tom he'd met before that was arguing with the brown one. Beetleshell came out of where he was walking to watch through yellowed eyes, what was this guy up to? He was in Fireclan territory, but Beetleshell didn't make a move to attack yet.

He'd rather keep his fur scar-free, thank you.

This post rolled 13 in Perception

Even half asleep as he was, Dustbite was on enemy territory and his body knew that. His ears and nose were still sharp even as at sleep tried to take his senses.

Pawsteps. The sound of fresh, unburned grass rustling with movement. Too close to be safe.

Inhaling slowly, he lifted his head and turned in the direction of the sound and scent of another cat. Fireclan's scent was all around, drowning out much else. But he also knew better than to assume it would be anything else but local. His main concern was how this situation was going to turn out.

He was tired on the verge of passing out, and not the best fighter when it came to brute strength. If he got into a fight now, there would be no clanmates to back him up.

There were few options for him here, and even fewer now that he caught the glint of eyes reflecting in the early morning light. There was no way he wasn't spotted, so…

"Well? You've got me, are you going to go squealing to your clan or do you think you can take me yourself?" Steeling himself, Dustbite stood and faced the cat's direction.

This post rolled 15 in Perception

Beetleshell came out of his 'hiding' spot, though he had not been hiding in the first place. Why was this other cat on the border? He clearly wasn't looking to go back to Fireclan, and Stormclan could have easily been the better choice to go to. Or was he simply looking for a fight? It sounded like it - or maybe the other warrior was trying to protect himself. Beetleshell was not Pinefire. He was not going to cause pointless bloodshed even if this cat was pretty much tresspassing. He was close enough to the border for the brown tom to ignore him, if he was completely honest (beetleshell really was on the road to being kicked out, wasn't he?) Though he somehow didn't particularly care about such thoughts.

He did want to ask what this warrior was doing here, but that would mean using his voice wouldn't it? Beetleshell didn't use his voice, and hadn't used his voice in moons. He wouldn't be asking his question today, not verbally anyway. Not many understood what he wanted to ask though, and he doubted this warrior would either. At least, Beetleshell assumed the other cat was a warrior based on the hunting before. Seemed too young to be a deputy.

If the other cat wanted to pick a fight, Beetleshell would have to retaliate, but he would not be doing the first hit. Instead, he tilted his head to the side as if he was confused, maybe pointing ahead more up the river. Where was this cat headed? Why had he chosen to trespass on the more dangerous side of the river to get where he was going? If Pinefire saw this tom he surely would try to kill him.

[im getting the previous reply deleted lol forgot i was on my ooc account]

Dustbite's eyes narrowed as the other tom continued his silence. It was familiar...he'd met this cat briefly while hunting a few sunrises earlier, right.

Definitely Fireclan then.

But, he didn't seem to be aggressive for the time being. The two were left in an awkward and tense stare off now, in lieu of battle. Did he continue on? Get as far as he could before this silent Fireclanner got him in trouble?

The tom nodded further upriver, tilting his head as if to say 'Well? You going or what?' Whether that was the meaning or not, it didn't matter, that was the plan either way.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it," He huffed, feeling another wave of exhaustion crash over him anew as he began taking steps away. He shouldn't have tried to rest here anyways, it was too dangerous.

Especially so soon after the gathering.

This post rolled 3 in Intelligence