OUR HOPE HAS TURNED TO FEAR ✦ — private, angelpaw

[LICORICE .]

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[align=center][div style="width:400px; text-align: justify; "]Angel continues to watch all the animals, copper eyes flickering before finally catching notice of Licorice's barking over the voices of others. Blindly, he swings his head back and forth, moving through the crowd before seeing the boy, herbs next to him as he calls out for those to come close if they were injured. He blinks at the malamute, relieved at the appearance of him and more than a little happy at the sight of someone familiar.

He made his way over without even hesitating, ignoring the hastiness of his actions. In the end, it didn't really matter. He just had to find out if he was alright. As he made his way over, he was sharply aware of the deep scratches in his pelt and the blood above his eye.

"Licorice, hey. Remember me, Angel?" He starts, suddenly aware of how awkward this was. He didn't know him long enough to get personal, but it was enough that it wasn't right to just act like they'd never met. He glanced away from the dog, the tip of his tail sweeping the ground. Who knew how the other even felt about him? Maybe, he thought he was an annoyance. "Is it alright if you could help with these scratches?" He winced as he sat down, audibly pausing as he thought of what to say next. It wasn't right to be so cold and impersonal, and as he looked back up, he'd allow the barest of smiles to cross his muzzle. "I'm glad to see you. Alive, you know."

//[member=2255]licorice[/member] can they have a private thread for this? don't wanna clog this thread up. i didn't even see ur post in the first place smh

[ayyy wazzup]

Licoricetwist couldn't hide that he was relieved the moment he saw Angelpaw. His face immediately softened, a small grin laying across his anxiety-ridden features. They were nothing more than light acquaintances, but something about Angelpaw made him feel better, if even for a moment. Maybe it was because Licoricetwist had been alone for so long. Simply talking to someone gave him newfound energy. He laughs, quietly. Was this going to become a thing? Every time they say each other again, it would start with, 'remember me, angel?' Cori wouldn't complain. With everything changing, he needed something to ground him.

"Of course I remember you." Licoricetwist got a strange, heavy urge to nudge him. He needed comfort. He needed touch. He was so stressed and starved of solace. He pushed away the strange, intrusive thought, instead finding something to focus on. His fur was so dark, if it wasn't for the smell of blood and the matted fur Cori might not have even noticed the wound. There was a brief flicker of concern in his purple eyes, but it disappeared as he examined closer. Just a few cuts. Nothing too deep. Angelpaw would be fine.

He dug around in his box for a moment, but deciding to turn it on it's side and pull out a pile. Marigold, sure, that would work. Oakleaf, okay, that would help prevent infection. Catchweed to keep it on. Comfrey Root to sooth. Without moving, the water very slowly began to gather into a ball. And float. "This 'll be cold," the medic murmured, using his water manipulation carefully to clean the wound on his pelt. After moving the water around a bit, his paw tracing the ground to help him focus, he gingerly moved his paw up  through the water to carefully smooth down Angels fur, being sure that all the blood was gone.

The water dropped back into the stream as he dabbed a small piece of fabric on his flank to clear the water. A few balls of catchweed to hold it, and Cori moved to the front of Angels face, just a couple inches away from it. He was focused, his face relaxed and smooth. His eyes went down to meet the apprentice's once he started speaking again. His fixation on the wounds faded with a gentle smile. "Yeah... I'm glad you're alive too. I don't really have anyone here. A familiar face is comforting." He genuinely sounded reassured. "It's not like I had anyone in Shadowclan either, but... Still. It's nice." He repeated the same process with a smaller floating ball of water above his eyes, careful not to let any spill as he rid Angels pelt of blood.

[recyling]

[align=center][div style="width:400px; text-align: justify; "]At Licorice's expresson, the bombay allowed himself to relax. The malamute had recognized him. It was impressive how the boy's demeanor had shifted; one moment he had been anxious, obviously stressed but then he was grinning and laughing. It was admirable just how easy it seemed for him; he'd expressed the relief that Angel felt without hesitating. What was strange to Angel was that he was the animal that had caused that response—it'd been a long time since he was the reason for making someone smile.

Angel would stay quiet, watching Licorice's movements. He recognized Marigold but the other herbs were foreign to him. He leaned forward, opening his muzzle to question what those were before suddenly clamping down, biting his tongue. He couldn't believe that the other was trying to hurt or poison them. In fact, at the sudden thought, he frowned. He trusted Licorice enough to know, that wasn't his intention.

"I can handle it," He watched the floating ball of water and let interest flicker in his eyes. "I've never met an animal before with that kind of power." At the touch with his paw, he flinched once, tensing but easily relaxed when he realized what he was doing. He shut an eye when the water reached his forehead. "Oh, looks like we have something in common, then." Then he realizes, he's not really ready for any questions about exactly why he was alone, and he quickly mewed afterwards, "Anyone I knew lives far away from here." That sufficed as an explanation.

"Are you comfortable enough telling me what happened?" His expression turns apologetic after he asks the question. "You don't have too, if you don't want too. I understand." After all, it wasn't like he told the whole truth, either. He understood about not telling everything about yourself; he wasn't about to become a hypocrite.

[LICORICE .]

[align=center][div style="width:420px; background: transparent; border: 0px;"][justify][tags] ✦ Licoricetwist caught himself looking around to be sure no one else was around that had more severe injuries. The journey here was hard, especially for those that lives far from the mountain ranges. He didn't doubt that with the state of the clans, many were left without medics and assistance as winter had began to set in. This winter would be a harsh one. He could tell already.

Cori always organized his herbs before hand, and then told his patients what he was going to do. A little trick he learned from Belladonna. He was definitely more careful about telling others his process when they were, well, let's just say when they had their walls built up high. Those were always scared of everything. As much as the asshole-types seemed to piss him off, he knew enough about them to know that, often, they had some sort of baggage. It didn't take much for Licoricetwist to know if it was in their nature to be mean or if it was in their past. The ones with damage--certain things would make them flinch or twitch, enough fighting would draw light from their eyes. The hungry ones loved it. They ate up the attention and snarled out their insults. Those were the others that really bothered him.

But, he had to heal them. He made a vow and he would keep it. He stated the herbs, their uses, where he was going to touch and how he was going to do it. I'll clean here, I'll put this here, I'm not going to hurt you. The same thing over and over. Cori never minded it. It wasn't like he didn't have baggage himself. "Ah, yeah, I haven't either. The gods must have blessed me with it. I could just... Do it one day. It's quite helpful, obviously."

Licoricetwist continued working, making gentle circles around his wound while pushing and pulling the water. His brow quirked, slightly. Something about that didn't seem entirely right, but he didn't question it. "Ah, you're lucky, then..." He trailed off. At least Angel's loved ones were still alive. He swallowed, a gentle 'um' leaving his mouth and he cleared his throat. "Well, my mother and father were from separate clans. Riverclan and Shadowclan. Right in the middle of the war. My father took my siblings to Shadowclan, and I was left with Mom in Riverclan. The only child I ever talked to was killed by an Exiler when he was goofing off at the border. I was alone, most of my life, until I found myself in a raid. That's how I ended up in Shadowclan, long story short."

He carefully let the water drop, putting the same fabric over his forehead softly and binding it with catchweed while he looked down to shred his herbs. "My mother was the leader of Stea Bastion as well, my father the leader of Shadowclan. They were busy. I didn't have friends as a kid, I was terrified of everyone in Shadowclan. My brother was the only one. My mother was bipolar, had a descent into madness, probably offed herself. I found out while my Dad was yelling at me. We were fighting about the war. And bam, I get told that my mother is dead. My siblings dropped off, my mentor and my father broke up, she left, their kids dropped off. Dad stepped down and vanished. My closest friend and brother, Rocky, just... left one day. No note. No goodbye. Everything gone."

Something was off. Licoricetwist seemed apathetic. Too apathetic. As if this was a tale he'd told time and time again, with nothing behind his eyes. He was blank. He was building up that wall, determined not to let Angel see how much being alone had affected him. He swallowed, pushing his herbs into a pile and carefully attempting to dig a hole into the ground with his claws. Burdock root was next, he pressed it hard into the earth. "He left a note, once, saying how sorry he was, but he couldn't even show his face. I've pretty much been on my own with all the herbs in the greenhouse ever since. It's not a big deal, I've been alone since I was a child. Thinking your own father didn't want you, while he's literally leading a war against your clan, setting traps that nearly kill you, it fucks you up as a kid, you know?"

He starts chewing the burdock root, letting it drop on top of the other herbs in his little pile. He winces at the sharp taste. "This is a pulp made of burdock root for pain, marigold to stop bleeding and fight infection and oak leaves to do the same. I'm going to put it on and secure it with catchweed and cobwebs. Be careful not to smear it too much, come to me and I'll change it once a day, and if you get wet come back so I can change it again. Got it?" Cori questioned him as pulled water into the hole in the ground, mixing the herbal remedy with his paw to be sure it had a nice consistency. The ground soaked up the rest of the water.

[recyling]

[align=center][div style="width:400px; text-align: justify; "]The entire time Licorice speaks, Angel listens silently, ears pricked with a sharp and attentive gaze fixated on the malamute. He studies Licorice's blank face and understands the apathy, that barrier. He knew what it was like, despite how different his own history was, to feel like you were repeating a record you had already played over and over in your own mind—that every time you spoke about it, it was like it was something else. A time before. A foggy memory that you shrugged about. Something you let intionally fade from your mind, after every time it was brought up because it'd only bring you pain to linger.

How alone he must be, and he'd still turned out kind despite how hard it was for him. He doesn't say his thoughts, or relay the soft comforts he wants to give. You're so strong, I'm sorry that everyone you loved left you, I wish I could help. But they were too much for someone like him to say, and still not enough at the same time; there was only so much words can do. He caught himself biting his tongue.

It felt like there really was nothing he could say to make it better. He knew that if anyone else tried anything with him, he'd snarl and clap back like lightning, burning whoever had tried. But Licorice wasn't him, and so, as Licorice moves, he catches his attention with a soft brush of his tail. The usual tough exterior slips, his gaunt features soften. His eyes aren't sympathetic nor full of pity. Just soft. "Thank you for telling me," He speaks softly, tilting his head to catch his purple eyes.

Luckily, the other quickly moves on and Angel focues on the herbs, eyes flicking to the herbs he names. He hums, taking note with a short nod. "Got it." He looks back up, blinking back with a rare warmness in his eyes. "By any chance, do you have anything to help with sleeping?" He felt comfortable enough to tack on, "I find myself waking up during the night and hunting instead of actually getting rest." Hence, the grumpy and exhausted look he sported at all times.

//thank you for being patient enfebfsh. btw i.. .. LOVE cori he is a blessed boy