Yoga SC Style

[Yoko]

The sky had cleared up remarkably by now. The sun was more than half visible in its declining stages. The sky was a chaotic mix of warm color and Lizardeye found himself separating the colors in his mind, counting the shades of pink and blue in the clouds. The clouds, he formed into familiar patterns, as though they were blurry images that needed to be cut into precise, sharp, edges. Most of them were shaped like rocks and leaves, he concluded.

Refocusing on his path, the cold tabby walked at an easy pace beside Brindlepelt. He was careful to avoid any unnecessary puddles so as not to splash the bright-furred she-cat.How it came to pass that they were to spend the evening together was a mere coincidence. Feathercloud, seeing that the cold tabby was concerned for Brindlepelt's health, approached him and proposed he aid her in her recovery. The Medicine Cat had had a curious look on her face when she had suggested it, but Lizardeye passed it off as affection for her patient. He reminded himself of tips about this task.

Exercise her a little. But not strenuously. A few gentle stretches ought to get her muscles out of their stiffness.

Though he was accustomed and used to silence, he felt inspired to speak socially to his training partner.

"It is rather fortunate that the rain stopped, is it not?" Lizardeye mewed casually, "Does this seem like enough space for you?"

He swept his tail around the clearing.

"Or should we search further?"

[. s p o r e l e t t ♪]

Brindlepelt padded quietly beside Lizardeye, wondering that the two of them should be training together, though both were warriors. She had learnt all she needed to serve her Clan seasons before, yet here she was, about to undergo a different kind of learning. It was a full moon now after her injury, so the wound itself had healed. In its place was only a scar where vicious fangs had rent the skin and muscle of her shoulder. That tissue had knit back together, but it was still stiff, and often painfully tight. Thornpaw should have started his training under her long ago, yet even though she was now sleeping in the warriors' den, Brindlepelt could not fully begin her training with her first apprentice. Before that could happen, the young she-cat had exercises of her own to complete.

The slender feline moved slowly alongside her companion, keeping pace with the dark-furred tom but causing little more than ripples as they passed through puddles left by that day's rain. Though the sudden downpour had elicited complaints from many of their Clanmates, Brindlepelt decided that it was a good thing. Rain was scarce enough in greenleaf; the short deluge had refreshed the hot, dry forest and breathed life into the parts of it that were in danger of becoming dehydrated. Besides, rain brought out the frogs and toads. The Clan would eat well tonight.

Finally, the duo paused in a small clearing in the swamp, perhaps less wet than the rest of their surroundings had been. It wasn't vast by any means, but it would easily serve for their purposes. How much room did the two of them really need? They weren't doing anything more exciting than simple exercises, from what Feathercloud had told her. "I'm glad of it, to be sure," She replied to Lizardeye's initial inquiry, and glanced once more around the clearing. "I think, had the rain not stopped, Feathercloud would have instructed me to do this regardless. Thank you for agreeing to help, Lizardeye. I know you've been busy recently."

Turning her midnight gaze towards the most silent and unobtrusive of ShadowClan's most well-known three brothers, she smiled at him. It was a polite smile, born of gratitude and courtesy rather than affection. But that was enough; it was enough to serve her Clan without expecting anything in return. Enough to feel respect and loyalty for her Clanmates, without the affection that she knew her sisters indulged in. Brindlepelt owed her Clan and her kin everything, and that was her reason for living. The young warrior felt no need for anything in return; it was she who owed her Clanmates for her existence, not the other way around.

So she smiled.

"This space looks ample," Brindlepelt said, and turned her ears in Lizardeye's direction. "So, what is it that I am to be doing?"

[Yoko]

"Yes," Lizardeye replied, "But I'm also certain that Feathercloud would not want to make you too uncomfortable. This morning was the worst of the rain, if it had kept up that way, I would think that Feathercloud might push back this session a day."

He was not at all argumentative in tone as Twistedclaw may have been, nor overwhelmingly persuasive as Snaketail was prone to being. He was simply stating what he felt could be derived from Feathercloud's kinder nature, which could be quite stern at times but always meant well.

As he glanced at her with his bright green gaze, he was a bit startled by the smile, which, for all its affectionless politeness, seemed rather sincere in its gratitude. In response to such sincerity, all he could manage was to blink and give a solemn nod before facing forward again.

"This is no trouble to me. I assure you, Brindlepelt."

Having settled on a place to train, Lizardeye turned to stand opposite Brindlepelt, deciding it would be easier to show her the stretches first and see if she could mirror them.

"We'll be doing several stretches which will increase the range of motion in your shoulder in three ways. It may be a little painful at first, but I assure you that we'll not go far enough to reopen you're wound. The first is the simplest."

He walked forward a bit, staring rather unblinkingly at her face.

"Lift your injured limb slowly and place that paw on my shoulder."

[. s p o r e l e t t ♪]

In the small clearing in that secluded portion of the swamp, Brindlepelt thought about what Lizardeye had said and decided that she agreed with him. She had never thought Feathercloud was an unkind cat, and felt sure that the small she-cat wanted only the best for her Clanmates. It was simply that she suspected the long-furred she-cat would rank rehabilitation above the discomfort of rain... but in such a case, she realized the medicine cat would simply have instructed Brindlepelt herself, doing what they could in the confines of Feathercloud's den. The warrior met Lizardeye's gaze and let the smile slide from her face. This cat was a complete mystery to her, so cool and composed. She had no idea what went on within his mind, though she had tried throughout the past moon to understand him. With every visit, she thought that she had figured him out just a little bit more... only to realise, upon meeting his vivid green gaze, that she still could not fathom what went on behind it.

On the one paw, she had never been a very social creature. Since becoming a warrior (and All The Sorrow, which she made an effort not to dwell on), she had made no effort to make any friends, and existed in a state of determined solitude. But this tom, who she knew only vaguely from her apprentice days – and who would likely be more familiar with both of her sisters than with her – had become a source of almost regular companionship for her. Brindlepelt did not know what to think, except that perhaps another cat had asked him to watch her. Which made even less sense than their occasional meetings the first place, so she put it out of her mind and resolved to puzzle it out later.

Brindlepelt had let her gaze fall to the ground again, breaking eye contact as she was wont to do with any cat who wasn't her blood kin. Had she been like this when she was an apprentice? Probably. But she had always looked back. It was a struggle for her to do so now. The grey and cream tortoiseshell lifted her eyes to Lizardeye's green ones, and nodded her agreement to what he had said. She could handle pain. She had suffered through the fox bite in the first place, and there was no way this could be any worse. Her gaze roamed across his face, down his neck and to his shoulder as she lifted her forepaw and stretched it towards the tom. Her shoulder, already sore from the walk there, protested the movement, but Brindlepelt continued until her dappled limb was resting lightly on Lizardeye's tabby pelt. She could feel the muscles of her shoulder tighten, and fought against a wince, but when she spoke her tone was still calm. "How long do I have to hold it like this?"

[Yoko]

While he had planned a further stretch, it was already apparent that Brindlepelt's wound was indeed stiffer than he had anticipated. He had by no means missed that wince, and he wondered instantly how long she would be in rehabilitation for the fox incident. A small prickle of an unpleasant feeling rose within him. Perhaps guilt? That would be rather illogical. He had had no way of knowing that there was going to be a fox attack, and he certainly had no way of knowing that Brindlepelt would be injured in such an attack, especially considering that both Twistedclaw and Snaketail had been present. All the same, this reasoning helped but to lessen the feeling.

"Give it a few moments," Lizardeye mewed without the slightest quiver in tone. His gaze had not wavered either though he realized that he had been staring through her as he thought. Refocused on her physical presence he continued, "It should feel like only a soreness, if you are in any sharp pains then we should lower the range of its stretch."

And with these simple instructions, the uncomfortable sensation faded. After all, he had been in Brindlepelt's close company since the incident. She had suggested no resentment towards him. or even his brothers, for her injury. And whether or not any of this was his fault, he had at least made himself helpful and attempted to make her stay in the Medicine Cat Den more comfortable. In fact, were it another cat he might have felt that he had over-repaid them with such favor and attention. Under this realization, quite suddenly, the weight of obligation had been lifted. He no longer had any duty to serve the injured warrior. And for the first time since their meeting an odd expression crossed his face, a subtle change from blank to lost.

[. s p o r e l e t t ♪]

Lizardeye had said to relax the stretch if it was painful; the she-cat was determined that it was not. "It's fine," she murmured. Standing in that clearing, alone but for one other cat, Brindlepelt could feel her shoulder pulling, throbbing with the motion that she had made it go through. It wasn't exactly a painful sensation, but it was definitely uncomfortable, in that strange way that was somehow worse than pain alone. It was like a tail-tip running over heated, sensitive skin, intense sensation to make one want to squirm away, yet at the same time feel tempted to lean in even further. Brindlepelt did not squirm away. Instead she breathed out very slowly, and pushed just the smallest bit. Almost without noticing, the dappled warrior's eyes closed in concentration, bi-toned lids lowering over her midnight eyes. She wouldn't get anywhere if she was complacent, so she leaned just the tiniest amount forward.

And opened her eyes when she felt her whiskers brush something.

Brindlepelt found herself much closer to Lizardeye than she had realized. Close enough for their whiskers to touch each other with just the lightest of pressures, she was able to look at the green-eyed tom more closely than she had ever done before. More closely than she had ever dared to. And though she had not meant to, the young warrior saw something in his eyes that she had not ever seen before. Or perhaps she had.... But she could not place it, and whatever the expression, if she had seen him look like that before, she could not remember when or where. And quite suddenly she realized that she wanted to know. She wanted to know what it was that those eyes were saying, and she wanted to know why that look seemed vaguely familiar to her. And she wanted to know why she had seen it again, in that accidental moment when she had stretched herself just a bit too far...

Then Brindlepelt realized that she actually had stretched herself too far, and her shoulder was in genuine pain, it was throbbing and aching like some cat was methodically pushing tiny, needle-like thorns all the way down to the bone, and she realized that she was probably putting far more pressure on Lizardeye's shoulder than she needed to, and oh StarClan now it was twitching and she felt certain that she was going to lose her balance and fall if she didn't do something soon. With a sudden intake of breath, she removed the offending paw and replaced it in its original position; firmly on the ground. The dappled she-cat circled the limb gingerly, and decided that although she may have overdone it a bit, the first stretch had succeeded in loosening her shoulder somewhat from the tightness that had closed in during the walk there. When she looked at Lizardeye, she could no longer see that subtle strangeness in his eyes, although now she may have simply been too flustered to notice. "I am sorry about that," she mewed, nerves somewhat evident in her voice. "I suppose I wasn't paying attention..."

Or perhaps she had been paying more attention than usual. But she left that thought unsaid.

[Yoko]

Lost in a sea of unreadable thoughts, the tabby fought to find purpose in it all. He swam through the irrelevant observations of the world around, and through the memories of times long past, and he reached with both claws mentally outstretched for a logical reason as to why he-

Broken off, focus lost. Something physically moved one of his whiskers. He blinked his brilliant green eyes, with which he had ben staring quite unseeingly at Brindlepelt's bright face. He was momentarily shocked by the closeness of their muzzle, but not unpleasantly so. From all his dark and confused thoughts he was led by this bright brindled face. She looked curious, but he also recognized her to be a good, sensible she-cat and he doubted she would find it pleasant that her instructor was letting his mind wander during their muscle training.

Suddenly, Brindlepelt's face twisted in pain, as if she were just realizing it herself. He felt her balance shift suddenly and he felt concerned that she might fall. He was prepared to slide from beneath her paw, but she managed to get it down hersel, and she apologized for her not lack of focus. Not that Lizardeye could blame her. He too, had lost focus, if only or a few moments.

"It's alright, we'll try to stretch it a bit less next time. In the meantime, can you stand on it?" he mewed, nodding towards the injured limb. "If so, stand on that one, and repeat the exercise with your other foreleg."

Afterall, standing requires a whole set of muscles in and of itself...

But he was only a cat. How was he supposed to know that? He only had his own body to compare others too.

[. s p o r e l e t t ♪]

Brindlepelt shifted back a bit, still gingerly moving her leg and looking at Lizardeye from under lowered lids. She had schooled her face into sober calm once more, now that the pain had passed and she wasn't so surprised. Only the restless flicking of her tail betrayed her agitation, revealing that she wasn't as relaxed as she might like her companion to think. It was hard to go through these exercises silently, with only the occasional word of instruction or agreement tossed here or there. She had never been one for chatter and gossip, but somehow the silence was making her uneasy. Did Lizardeye's silent, watchful presence instill the same feeling in other cats, she wondered? Was it just something about him that made her feel this way?

Most likely not, she decided. He was just a cat. It was the silence that bothered her; the knowledge that while so little was being said, she had no idea what he was thinking. Other cats tended to talk all the time, sometimes without even being aware of it. They gave away so much about themselves, she never felt unsure of what to do or say when they were around. With Lizardeye, she felt unbalanced. She had spent more time with him in the past moon than with any other Clanmate besides her sisters and the medicine cat, and yet she knew far less of what went through his mind. Nodding slightly, she moved to obey his direction. Brindlepelt put her weight on her injured leg, pleased to find that the extra pressure didn't seem to aggravate her shoulder, and placed her uninjured paw on the soft fur of Lizardeye's shoulder. She felt a slight stretch from this limb, but not an uncomfortable one, although the presence of even that slight sensation caused her to narrow her eyes in displeasure. Her moon in the medicine cat's den may have healed her shoulder, but it looked like she would need to work hard to make herself useful as a warrior again.

"Mmmm..." Brindlepelt mumbled under her breath, thinking while she did so. "Foolish of me, and nearsighted. I had no idea, even when I realized the severity of my injury, that rehabilitation would take so long." Keeping one dappled paw pressed gently to the fur of Lizardeye's shoulder until he instructed her to place it elsewhere, the slender she-cat glanced briefly at the dusky hints of sky that showed murkily between the trees. The sky suited her mood, she mused, hot and chaotic. Frustration was making her restless, although she was trying hard not to show it. How much longer would she go on in this manner, purposeless and of no use to anyone around her, a mere burden to her kin and Clan? It didn't sit well with her, the cat who lived only because she had to.

Perhaps Lizardeye had looked strange a moment before... she thought she could place that look now. He had been wearing it soon after Dapplepelt had died, and she was sure that look had been etched on her face for many nights after- Well. Suffice it to say that she understood enough of being lost for any ten cats' lifetimes, although she still did not know why such an expression would cross the tabby tom's face when he wasn't doing anything more ground-shaking than assisting the Clan's medicine cat with an... invalid. Truly a puzzling notion, for a cat who she had always considered to be inherently logical. Removing her gaze from the sky and returning it to Lizardeye's ebony-striped face, the young warrior blinked with bemusement. But his schooled visage revealed nothing that she hadn't seen a hundred times before.

[Yoko]

The sun was already well into its decline, but it held steady on the horizon just behind the pine trees. The air was warm except for the slight chill of the occasional breeze. It was not at all that the tabby minded the dark, but he wondered when exactly Feathercloud was expecting her patient back.

After a few moments of this line of thinking, he firmly decided that it did not matter when Brindlepelt was returned to the Medicine Cat Den, or else Feathercloud would have specified. No, the important thing at the moment was that she was in his care and he was, for the moment, responsible for her well-being. Having thus decided, he focused fully on studying her injured limb (which was now standing alone on the ground), for signs of strain.

He reluctantly stirred from his focus at her mumbling. The observationalist in him could not let it pass. He let her words hang in the symphony of night sounds for a few moments, before very carefully replying. "Brindlepelt, excuse me if I am being forward," (these words courtesy of Snaketail's rigorous etiquette training) but you do not strike me at all as a foolish or near-sighted cat. And if you indeed have not foreseen the length of time this training would take, I can only assume it is because you never foresaw such an injury being dealt to you.'

He paused, strangely unable to look up from her injured leg now, even as he mewed. "You can place this leg down now."

Other slight stretches came to mind. Ones that would not require them to be out in the dark too long. Perhaps next time they could begin earlier. After all, he no longer had an apprentice.

The cold tabby circled around Brindlepelt so he stood beside her uninjured shoulder. "Now, facing forward. Lift your paw and place it on my shoulder again. Try not to turn this way."

[. s p o r e l e t t ♪]

Night was almost upon them, lurking just behind the sun as it waited for that orange light to finally relinquish its hold on the sky. The shadows that were their Clan's namesake stretched eerily across the clearing, criss-crossing the rain-dampened earth and adding further layers to the shades of light and dark on Brindlepelt's fur. Still holding her position obligingly, the slender warrior examined the dusky sky with a wry smile on her face, one that didn't reach her eyes. "That's a logical way of looking at it, I suppose," she mused out loud. "Would that everything in life were so easy to understand, and tuck into organized little sections as you seem to do." Flicking her eyes downward at her tutor's instruction, Brindlepelt blinked at the unnerving way that he was staring at her injured limb, and removed the other somewhat hastily. Foolish. Illogical. It seemed that she could never succeed in achieving the level of distance that she strived to achieve.

Brindlepelt brushed away the emotions that ever-defied her dedication to remain ambivalent, and returned her attention to the task at hand. She wasn't certain she understood the purpose of stretching her non-injured forelimb, but the she-cat assumed that her companion knew what he was doing, and raised the leg as directed. It was somewhat awkward to place it on Lizardeye's back while he was standing beside her; she wasn't used to raising her leg in such an awkward fashion, and she fumbled the attempt once before succeeding in placing her paw flat on the tom's shoulders. Why couldn't she do anything right today? This wasn't even her injured leg, and she still failed to do it correctly. She felt tired, though she had done nothing all day, and recognized the budding signs of depression. So easy, when one padded through life on ambivalent paws, to slip off that edge, especially when everyone who might catch you was held at arms length.

OoC// Aha, I realized that I was writing some sort of emo rant, so I thought I'd better stop while I was ahead. xD;; End thread soon, so we can have a happier, less emo-Brindle one?

[Yoko]

She was clever with words, the bright-eyed tabby observed. Her speech patterns reminded him of Snaketail's in an odd way. But this time he was determined not to reply. He was a bit convinced by now that their talking had made the stretched last longer than necessary, and that by now Feathercloud must be worried for her patient. But he really was quite tempted to reply.He could see that Brindlepelt was quite uncomfortable with silence and he was sorry for her discomfort.

Very quickly, the last ember of day flickered and faded, almost seamlessly, into the night. Night slipped over ShadowClan like a comfortable skin, blanketing the entire territory in warmth, darkness, and familiar sounds. Lizardeye paid no mind to these details. His concentration was on the contraction and relaxation of her dapple-patterned muscles. After two other exercises, Lizardeye decided it was best not to press further, or they would risk more damage.

"Alright, that was very well done. Are you in any pain?" Lizardeye mewed, arching his own back in a stretch. "We should probably head back now."

[. s p o r e l e t t ♪]

    As night swept across the sky and blanketed the forest below in a soft cloak of darkness, Brindlepelt finally found herself able to concentrate on the words that Lizardeye directed at her and the movements which followed them. The stiff muscles of her forelimb began to ache slightly, but it was the kind of ache that came with extended use, not the bone-deep pain that used to plague her after she first sustained the bite. Her breathing came more evenly; the rest of her body relaxed, even as her blue eyes blurred from exhaustion. The slender tortoiseshell completed the last few exercises that her companion instructed her to complete diligently, and when they finally stopped, stars glittering in the sky like dewdrops, she felt calm, and pleasantly weary.

    Slowly, the she-cat extended her aching limbs and kneaded the soft, rain-soaked ground in a limbering stretch. She regained her posture slowly, and shook her head slightly when she was finally done. "There's only a slight ache," she told Lizardeye. "It doesn't bother me. Shall we go?" Brindlepelt began padding quietly in the direction of camp, conscious of the full moon glowing brightly overhead in its black velvet stage. Her eyes felt heavy, but not so much that she couldn't appreciate the beauty of it as the night sky spread, twinkling, above them. "Clear skies tonight," she murmured, thinking of their Clanmates at the Gathering. "Do you mind if I...?"

    Brindlepelt didn't finish her sentence, simply giving in to her tiredness and folding against Lizardeye's side. She remained upright, and continued to walk along as they padded towards camp, but rested her modest weight lightly on the other's shoulder, glad of the support it gave her tired limb. For once her busy mind quieted, so that she wasn't wondering about every single connotation that her actions might possibly have--she just was, and for now it was enough.

[Yoko]

The surroundings, though darker, were no more foreboding. In fact, the shadows of the night were swayed peaceful and familiar beneath the observant tabby's gaze. No sound was out of place, and all were quickly categorized and put out of mind as the pair began to make their way to camp. He listened to his companion without looking at her, not to be rude, but simply out of habit. Although he had been awake sense dawn, his pawsteps were steady and senses were clear. But he could not say the same for his mind, which was clouded immediately by the unexpected pressure on his shoulder.

His shoulder tensed with the new weight, but, discovering that it was not quite heavy, relaxed an instant later. Her fur was soft and the slight contact was warm and almost comfortable. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. It was not often that he even brushed by another cat, let alone had one rely on him for support. Deciding that the feeling was not altogether unpleasant, he offered no resistance, and his step fell naturally in rhythm with her own.

"I'll find better ways to train your shoulder," the quiet tabby murmured, "I've never had to do this sort of training before, so I apologize if it felt as if it didn't do much. In any case, next time I'll be more prepared. If you want to, that is. I understand this must have been tiring."

[. s p o r e l e t t ♪]

Brindlepelt continued to walk along slowly, her pawsteps quiet and sedate as the pair traversed the darkened swamp. Though the air was warm, and her pelt felt hot and heavy despite the sun's absence, the cool, damp ground felt soothing to her tired paws. She was also grateful for the presence of Lizardeye's shoulder, which felt soft and solid and warm as she leaned carefully against it. Normally she wouldn't have imposed, but... it had been a long evening, for her at least. Brindlepelt appreciated that she had a shoulder to lean on, no questions asked, right now when she needed it. Even if he had tensed for a moment, he hadn't said anything, or moved away.

"If I'm tired, you must have done something right," the dappled warrior commented as they drew nearer to camp. Her low voice seemed louder in the night's still darkness, with only the song of the insects and frogs for contrast. She let out a long, slow breath, vaguely bemused at her own sluggishness. She would have to remember to improve her stamina and flexibility further, otherwise she would never be able to properly train her apprentice. It seemed a stroke of surprising fortune that Lizardeye would want to help her do so, but she was nonetheless quite grateful for it. "Yes, I want to continue," she said quietly, half-looking at Lizardeye with the beginnings of what might have been a smile on her face. Her eyes skirted his countenance to rest instead on the path ahead, though the half-smile remained. "Whenever you are ready, I'll be waiting."

[Yoko]

Lizardeye nodded at her confirmations that they would continue these sessions. Hopefully he would improve at instruction, and her arm would continue to heal steadily. Despite the apparent complications this would hold for his schedule, Lizardeye was not concerned about timing. In fact, he felt strangely satisfied by these answers. It made him wonder what he might have felt had she said no.

His green eyes slid to their corner, observing her a few moments. Then he looked forward again, quiet and thoughtful. Her company was nice, he concluded. Had she said no, he would have simply continued to visit her in the Medicine Cat Den unless it became apparent that she did not want his company.

The cold tabby blinked and focused for an instant on the strange warmth and pressure of contact. He felt fairly sure that she would not reject his company. And he could even imagine being sharply disappointed if she did. There was so much to learn about her.

They were nearing the camp. Lizardeye was careful to avoid the worst of the puddles. Once inside, he locked on immediately to his two brothers sitting in their usual dining spot, a shady edge of camp. The cold tabby tom waiting patiently for Brindlepelt to lean off of him, before giving her a respectful nod.

"You did well today," he mewed, blinking as he remembered he had said this before. "We should try again the night after this. Is that alright with you?"