Bidwell sighed, glancing over at the full moon. Its that time of the month again. Great.
The moon had just risen, the twolegplace blocking out the stars from the sky and leaving the moon as the only source of light. Bidwell was preparing to make the quick trip over to the clans, having just finished all the tasks he had to do for the day. All was left was to check up on the two rivalling clans, and he could retreat back to his den and take a rest. God did he want to rest.
Bidwell looked over to Saxton, who was close by with some cats he was chatting up. He was too far away to hear anyone but Saxton, who was being loud as usual. He was sure anyone in the area wasnt going to be able to sleep that night, if he continued his story for that long. Hopefully the cats he was talking to would keep him distracted enough so he wouldnt try and fight another kittypet or, god forbid, a twoleg again. Saxton managed to catch his assistant's gaze and grinned, a quick acknowledgement before he continued with his loud conversation. Bidwell nodded before turning around, beginning the trip over to the clans.
It didnt take too long thankfully. Bidwell hopped over the log at the entrance of Blueclan's camp, something he had learned early on that one of the mercenaries had put there in a sad attempt at defense. And which had successfully tripped him three times before he finally learned to jump over it. At least it was better than nothing, he supposed.
The camp itself was somewhat small. The cats had moved and redid the entire place, leaving four dens remaining. They had kept the medicine cat and warrior dens, and Bidwell had later learned that they actually had weaved the nursery into the warrior's den, leaving an odd dip in the ground inside the den from where the nursery was originally was. The leader's den was, of course, untouched, and a thick bramble wall was made over the entrance, a small gap left in the barrier for what Bidwell could only assume was how their leader got delivered food and water. Bidwell didnt want to ask where their leader made dirt though- he feared what the answer to that question would be. The last den was close to the medicine cat's, being for anyone with injuries or visitors. Pauling had told him it was added after a particularly rainy night kept her in the camp, and Baystep was kind enough to help make a quick shelter for her to stay the night. Before Bidwell had questioned why she didnt just stay in the warrior's den with the others, but after actually meeting them, he quickly understood.
Immediately upon entering he spotted a gaggle of the mercenaries by one of the dens, some of them sharing a rabbit. He struggled to remember their names sometimes, since their leaders had decided to rename them all as a sign of welcoming and he had only knew them as their loner names. He managed to overhear their conversation and quickly put faces to names- Heavyclaw, Scorchleap, Hawkslash, and Baystep. He struggled for a few seconds with the last tom, since one of the cats kept naming him 'Berrytooth' for some reason, but after watching Heavyclaw gently hit him with a paw and correct him, he managed to remember Houndsnap's name. Bidwell offered little other than a quick nod to the group to acknowledge they existed, before heading to the medicine cat's den. The smells of herbs, flowers, and a scent Bidwell's mind immediately told him was blood flooded his nose, almost being too much for him. He spotted Bloodspeckle sitting down and pointing at something red and suspiciously meaty looking, with Firecrackle listening with wide eyes. "And you see, this is the hea- oh! Hello, Bidvell!" The medicine cat greeted, a few too many red spots on him for Bidwell to blissfully ignore. Firecrackle chirped a greeting as well, and Bidwell quickly nodded a hello before immediately backing away from the scene. That left two cats left, unless one of them was unfortunate enough to have been reduced to whatever Bloodspeckle was showing Firecrackle.
After investigating the two other dens and ruling out the leader's den as where the two were hidden, Bidwell decided desperate times required desperate measures. The gaggle of cats had mostly spread out, and Bidwell slowly gravitated towards the two ginger toms, Baystep and Heavyclaw. The paler of the two, Baystep, paused his conversation as soon as Bidwell approached, tipping his head in greeting. Heavyclaw paused to read Bidwell's expression, before his ears perked. "Little man has question?" He asked, with a slight tilt of his head and curiousity in his expression. Baystep chimmed in as well, adding "Feel free to ask us anything, partner. We'd be glad to help". Bidwell nodded, glancing around almost nervously. "Yeah, right, thank you. Uh, would any of you happen to know where the others are?" He asked, trying to remember their names. "Rushwing and..." He waved a paw, trying to remember what new name the other had gotten. "Raccoonheart?" Baystep supplied, and Bidwell nodded. "Yes, him. Them. Both of them." Baystep glanced at Heavyclaw, apparently thinking. "I thought i saw Raccoonheart hunting earlier, and i aint too sure where the kid is." He responded, and Heavyclaw slowly nodded, turning his head over to where Houndsnap and Scorchleap were. "Do Hound and Scorch know where little apprentice went?" He asked, and both cats shook their head. Bidwell watched as Scorchleap went and asked Bloodspeckle and Firecrackle, and groaned as he came back and reported they had no clue, either.
"How did you manage to lose an entire cat?" Bidwell sighed, lowering his head and debating hitting it against the ground as a sign of frustration. Maybe he would manage to knock himself out and wake up back in his den like this was a bad dream. "Dont worry, the little ankle-biter will show up sooner or later. Or you'll hear him yabbing on about something or other." Hawkslash reassured Bidwell, which did little to help actually reassure him. Bidwell nodded anyways, before deciding what to do. "I'll return later." He said to none of the cats in particular, raising his head up. "He cant be too far, and its quicker than waiting, at least." Some of the cats dipped and nodded their heads, leaving Bidwell to leave camp to wander around and hopefully find the missing speedy tom.
Fortunately, that didnt take too long. The smells of the twolegplace had clogged his nose enough for him to be utterly useless at tracking, but Rushwing didnt seem to be the one to be sneaky in any sense. Whenever Bidwell lost the scent, there was normally a broken branch or obviously moved fern that he could follow and use to pick it up again. It took barely ten minutes for him to find out where Rushwing was, counting the two times he had mistakenly followed the wrong trail. The area Rushwing was in looked to have been a long abandoned training clearing, with a soft and sandy ground that would've been perfect to practice on. It was padded down slightly from use, and Bidwell was able to see some spots where paw prints had been worn down into the ground. Rushwing himself was hitting a clawed up tree that jutted out into the training area a bit, hopping and dodging about for practice. It didnt seem like Rushwing had noticed Bidwell, and while he could leave now that he knew the other hadnt gotten himself killed, something told him to sit down and watch for a few seconds. It wasnt everyday he got to see someone fight. Someone that wasnt Saxton, that is.
Bidwell got caught pretty quickly, Rushwing having paused to lick his paw after accidentally actually hitting the tree with his paw pad. Rushwing stared at Bidwell for a second, tongue sticking out against his paw, before smiling. "Oh hey, prissy pelt!" He greeted, quickly licking his paw before setting it down. "Any reason youre sittin' there watchin' me?" Rushwing asked, and Bidwell shook his head. "No, none at all." "Well, cause, y'know i was just warming up. Normally i fight foxes. Reaaaal big ones." Bidwell raised his non existent eyebrows, sensing the conversation veering directly into bragging territory. "I mean like, even bigger than me! And you, obviously." Bidwell had little idea how to respond without fueling the fire, so he just nodded and let Rushwing continue. Maybe he could sneak away while Rushwing was talking? "I even fought a badger once! Real big guy, tough too! I think it was a guy. I didnt ask. Anyways, me and Scorchleap, this was before you and Pauling and everyone else stuck their noses into our lives, no offense, we had to fight it! And we, well, we were the only ones left in the clan, but that was alright! We won anyways, and-" Rushwing paused, bending awkwardly to get to the back of his front leg, shoving a bit of fur out of the side. His fur had hidden them, but Rushwing had a few scars on his leg which Bidwell recognized as teeth marks. Bidwell had never seen a badger, or a fox for that matter, but a quick run over of his teeth with his tongue informed him that, for once, Rushwing was probably not lying or exaggerating the story. "I got this! The badger bit my leg and tried throwing me, but it didnt let go, and i got dizzy and my head kinda hurt. Scorchleap smacked it right in its ugly face and it dropped me, and we both chased if off!" Rushwing smiled, clearly proud of his scar as he sat properly again, licking his fur down and over the scars again.
Bidwell opened his mouth, instinct kicking in with the normal 'you did great, sir' he would give Saxton for the latest fight he had, but quickly stopped that train of thought before it left his mouth. Bidwell opened it again to ask about the badger, before Rushwing continued. "I mean, it probably aint much to what's in the twolegplace. The other guys keep goin' on and on about how harsh and bad that place is. You gotta have some scars too, right? C'mon, spill it!" Rushwing got up, circling Bidwell excitedly as if to search for any scars he had under his long fur. "I, uh, i dont have any." Bidwell admitted, craning his head around to keep his eye on Rushwing. "Im not a fighter. I just work for Saxton, unlike Pauling. She's most likely the one with the good stories." He said as Rushwing finished his circling, looking rather disappointed. "Well you have to know somethin'! Aint there big monsters and twolegs there? Dont you, like, fight 'em?" Bidwell shook his head, and Rushwing groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. He sat down, going silent for a few seconds, before immediately perking up. "I know! Fancy paws, get up." Rushwing nearly commanded, getting a flat stare from Bidwell. Bidwell hesitantly got up, unsure to where this was going. Rushwing scurried to the other side of the training clearing, before getting down into a crouch with an excited grin. "What are you doing?" Bidwell asked in the same tone he used on kits, rowdy apprentices, and, occasionally, Saxton. "Pretendin' youre a fox." Rushwing answered, and before Bidwell could ask what that even meant, Rushwing was suddenly charging at him at a surprising speed. Bidwell's first reaction was to scramble away, but it seemed Rushwing had planned for that. As Bidwell ran, Rushwing leaped and landed directly in Bidwell's path, whipping around and striking a paw out.
Bidwell froze and closed his eyes, expecting the hot flash of pain, but was instead met with a light twap as Rushwing rather gently hit him with a sheathed claw. Bidwell opened one eye, then the other, watching with defeat as Rushwing hit his face like a kitten playing with yarn. "By starclan, you would not survive in the wild." Rushwing said, clearly amused and trying not to laugh. "I said i wasnt a fighter..." Bidwell exhaled, sitting and slowly calming down, licking flat some fur that had risen up from the short lived conflict. "I didnt think you were that bad!" Rushwing defended himself, sitting down as well. "I mean, even Bloodspeckle is better than that! I dont think he has any self preser-whatsit, but you didnt even fight! You just ran!" Bidwell didnt really know how to react, since everything Rushwing was saying was true, staying silent instead of repeating the 'im not a fighter' line again. "Ok ok, alright, listen. Next time i do that, run forwards. Not away, towards. Got it?" Bidwell was about to ask what 'next time' was suggesting, before Rushwing went back over to the other side of the training clearing again. Oh lord. Bidwell debated his options, before deciding that this was the best practice he was going to get. He got up, much to what seemed like surprise and genuine happiness on Rushwing's face, getting back to around where he was before. "Ready?" Rushwing asked, and Bidwell tentatively nodded. Rushwing began charging once again, and Bidwell's instincts screamed at him to run away, to escape the danger. He grounded himself, trying his best to ignore it, and once he saw Rushwing's hind paws bunch up in preparation to jump, he ran forward. Rushwing left the ground as Bidwell left little but dust and sand where he was standing, and the long fur tom was surprised when he ran right under Rushwing, landing in his paws hard to turn his head around and watch Rushwing land. Something clicked in Bidwell, and he began charging right at Rushwing. The tom looked over with a almost proud grin that made Bidwell only feel a little bad as he sped towards him, and the expression was quickly replaced with surprise as Bidwell slammed his front paws into his shoulder. The force knocked the unsuspecting warrior over, with Bidwell following after with little clue on how to roll along with the fall. The two were silent for a second, with Rushwing trying to process what happened and Bidwell silently proud of what he had done, before Rushwing let out a small laugh, still on the ground. Bidwell smiled, slowly joining in with the laugh at what he had just done. The two stayed on the ground like that for a few seconds, before their laughter died down as the rustling of leaves alerted them to a newcomer.
"Are you two done playing like kits?" Raccoonheart asked, setting down a warm rabbit, most likely recently caught. Bidwell immediately got up, shaking his fur and getting any sand stuck to him off. Rushwing raised his head but didnt get up, glaring at Raccoonheart. "We were trainin'! Which is more than you seem to be doin'. Doesnt Baystep get us enough food?" Rushwing grumbled, nodding to the rabbit. "Bluestar specifically requested for a rabbit, according to Bloodspeckle. Now leave Bidwell alone and let him do his actual work." Raccoonheart replied, picking up his rabbit and retreating into the bushes. Rushwing stuck his tongue out as the tom left, grumbling to himself once he was out of sight. "Raccoonheart is right." Bidwell admitted, feeling somewhat disappointed. "I should go back to my work. I still have to make sure Redclan is in order." Rushwing got up, shaking his fur with a sigh. "Yeah, i thought so." He nodded, looking almost as disappointed as Bidwell felt. Bidwell turned to depart, before Rushwing caused him to pause. "Hey, uh, stay safe." Rushwing said, his tone somewhat cautious, and almost nervous. "Kind of want to beat you up again, y'know?" Bidwell looked at Rushwing, who seemed a bit uncomfortable at the attempt of being genuine. He smiled at the tom, nodding. "I'll... Yeah, it was fun. Ill try not to die or anything." Bidwell agreed. "Yeah, yeah! Thanks. For, uh, not dying. In advance." Bidwell smiled at that before breathing out, turning around, and leaving into the forest. The small training had hurt his paws and the side he had landed on slightly, but Bidwell didnt really seem to mind as he began walking away. Maybe Saxton was right. Maybe a good fight was something he needed. Or maybe all he needed just a good laugh.
