The cold evening air increasingly descending, Ashfur slowly draws his tongue over his shoulder, grooming his pelt and cleaning the new scars beneath. Looking up for a brief moment as he notices Lionpaw running off alongside Hollypaw, towards the apprentice den. They're growing quickly, soon they'll be fully grown. And warriors on top of that. Brackenfur will likely place Hollypaw's assessment into early newleaf, when the cold retreats and a bit more prey comes out again. Lionpaw would become insufferable if he had to wait longer than his littermate. Perhaps the two mentors could coordinate themselves, have their assessments at the same time. Not an uncommon thing for multiple apprentices to go out at the same time… if Brackenfur manages to keep his maw shut about Lionpaw's training. A twinge of anger pulses under his skin at the other warriors remarks, but looking up at the quickly darkening sky, with a few breaths, it fades again. It has been a while and beyond some looks, the older warrior has left Ashfur well in peace. Perhaps it'd be wiser to let it slide. Ashfur will need to remember asking Brackenfur in the near future then. Tonight would be a bit late for it now…

Turning his head, Ashfur observes most of the clan's warriors begin to slowly retreat into the warrior den. Soon he'll be heading out. Though a mild pain in his shoulder remains, the wounds of his training sessions with Thistleclaw have all closed well by now. With an eagerness he finds very rarely these days, Ashfur's paws prickle with anticipation to show what he's learned, how he's improved, to learn and improve yet more when Talon arrives. Firestar disappears into the leader's den, soon followed by Sandstorm. The last apprentices are shooed into their den by the warriors sitting by the warrior den, still telling each other of some of today's happenings, before they too will likely retreat for the night. There'd been no sight of her… good. Likely in the warrior den already then, out of sight and if anyhow possible, out of mind. The shallow first writhings in his chest from letting his thoughts wander that way, Ashfur shakes off and he continue grooming his pelt. No, this is not the kind of night to let himself be distracted and weakened by this. He's making progress, he has to after all the work and exhaustion.

The last rays of the sun trying to prevent their own drowning beyond the far horizon, unseen through the dense forest of Thunderclan's territory, illuminate emerging silverpelt in a colourful last stand before all that remains is the light of the stars and the rising moon. Soon, but why wait? Talon will arrive soon enough, but in he meantime, Ashfur could enjoy the familiar serenity of the river spot. A pleasant idea, painting a faint smile across Ashfur's grey muzzle, the warrior rising to his paws and shaking out his coat. Yes, why not. The night is still young after all, why not enjoy it. Striding onward, the blue eyed warrior heads for the camp's entrance. The smile, short-lived as it was, fades as a scent brings an uncomfortable realisation. Ashfur pads onward, though every step feels as though he gets closer to leaping into the open maw of a hound. Brushing through the leaves and finally out of the camp, familiar eyes observe Ashfur. The sharp sting in his chest growing to grotesque intensity as the warrior battles the consideration to return her stare. A quiet huff escapes Ashfur, forcing himself to move forward past the discomfort. Each time one of his paws hits the ground, it's as if the thorned vines already piercing his heart contract and squeeze tighter around it.

„Ashfur…?"

His paws halt instantly. It has been some time since he's heard her voice speak his name. How long has it been? Moons? Seasons? Firmly shutting his eyes briefly and sucking in a silent breath, Ashfur turns his head, looking up to Squirrelflight, sitting by the camp's entrance. The brilliant orange of her coat impossible to fully see in the dim starlight, her emerald eyes however hold the same beautiful shine regardless in the dim light. They do not hold the warmth Ashfur once found such comfort in, there is no affection and happiness, but worry, concern practically surrounding the faint reflection of himself Ashfur sees in their brilliant green depths. Thorns, claws, digging through the inside of Ashfur's chest.

„…yes?"

With all the effort of leaving no trace of his pain upon his face, Ashfur realises too late that the effort does not extent to his voice. Squirrelflight's ears flatten slightly, the single word that escapes Ashfur so obviously laden with discomfort, unhappiness. Anger at this slip-up surges through the grey tom, causing him to turn away his head, grinding his teeth in self-directed fury, away from Squirrelflight's sight. Stupid! Foolish mousebrain, not worth the pelt on his back! He shouldn't give her yet more reasons to see him as weak. Why can't he do a single thing right once Squirrelflight is in any way involved? It didn't use to be that way… or was it? His thoughts are eventually interrupted as the orange she-cat's voice pierces the silence once more.

„Just be careful out there…"

Ashfur's nicked ear flicks as a cold breeze blows by. Is it concern in her voice? Difficult to tell without looking back at her, but Ashfur can not muster the strength to do so again right now. It certainly does not sound like indifference or anything worse. All else aside, they are still clanmates. Squirrelflight always cared for their clanmates. It makes some sense. Even if all else ended, shrivelled up and been dying for a long time, some things still remain, perhaps. For what seems like the briefest moment, the stinging eases, just enough to permit for the warmth of a little hope to creep in. Ashfur nods, keeping his eyes firmly on the path ahead.

„I will try. I'll be back by sunrise."

Slowly, one step at a time, Ashfur puts himself into motion again, not looking back. Stepping further and further from the camp and clan, further from Squirrelflight, into that cold night. It'll be alright. He just needs more time. Grow better. Grow stronger. Worthy of what he took for far too granted. As slow walking turns to quick padding, turns to fierce dash through the underbrush of the forest, Ashfur hopes that, in time, his path will lead back again. Back to the one thing he truly craves. He can only hope. Cruel hope pushing him onwards and keeping his muzzle shut in a snarl, while he truly wishes to scream the pain he feels in the meantime up to the stars, shining cold and distant.

Ripples move across the water's surface as another small pebble sinks into the deep briefly visible under the surface before it disappears from view. Ashfur observes the last spot it was visible for a while, before kicking the next pebble down into the water. Laying by the river's edge, waiting, watching the ripples, the blue eyed warrior finds his thoughts periodically return to the chance encounter as he left camp. Still a mild sting remains, though thankfully most has passed by now. It appears as if she has not become completely indifferent to him. A hopeful thought. If he can reach the goal he's set for himself, Ashfur may have a real chance. Still, he remains up against the deputy and father of her kits, his old friend and very able warrior, Brambleclaw. Ashfur will need to be more than good, nothing short of excellence will suffice. But it might be doable… there is hope.

The sound of reeds moving and brushing against each other brings the blue eyed warrior to look over to the side, a familiar shape approaching through the dry waterside vegetation. A faint feeling of pleased familiarity and companionship arises as the grey Thunderclan warrior sits up. It's good to see the Bloodclan cat, clearly recuperated from the wounds that kept him away last time. A brief moment of humour in the back of Ashfur's mind, realising just how upsetting his thoughts would likely be to just about any of his clanmates.

„Welcome back, Talon. Wounds healed well, it seems?"

Talon tilts his head briefly, seeming to think of what the Thunderclan cat is talking about, before realisation seems to hit.

„Right, the battle with the rogues… I'd all but forgotten. It's been a very busy time since then…"

Sitting down in the small clearing between the reeds, Talon raises his paw to push his chest pelt against it's natural direction, letting Ashfur see the new scars, normally hidden under the dark grey fur. Though the blue eyed tom observes it for a moment, but his attention is more captured by the very thoughtful tone of the Bloodclan tom. Ashfur tilts his head to the side, his curiosity undisguised but not saying anything. Recognising the inquisitive look on Ashfur, Talon shakes his head and puts down his paw again

„Later, perhaps. I don't mind talking about some of it, in fact I'd welcome a chance to get a few things off my chest, but I don't think there'll be much of a fighting mood left afterwards, so…"

Nodding, Ashfur slowly looks back to the evenly running water of the river

„I understand. Probably best that way for both of us, first training then talk… I have a lot on my mind lately as well. And I suppose some questions I'd been saving up."

Talon chuckles with mild amusement, following Ashfur's gaze, observing the reflection of the two of them in the currents

„We continue our game of questions and answers then? Fine by me. Shall we begin right away with training then?"

Ashfur nods again, more energetically this time, determination forming in his eyes before he rises to his paws.

„Yes. I think I've made progress, I'm eager to find out"

Talon gets up and stretches himself, claws unsheathed fully under his reinforcing dogteeth, before shaking his pelt out and returning a nod to Ashfur. He turns his left front paw, holding it up in the pale moonlight.

„It should not make a difference, but it is possible if I step on something that I'll be a bit compromised. Small bite wound from earlier today."

The blue eyed warrior inspects the paw, recognising the faint glimmer of cobwebs between the ground and dust that's settled on it from continuing to make use of the paw. A very light scent of herbs, too light to be detected from more than two whiskers away but clearly present. It seems Bloodclan's healers do things much the same as medicine cats do. Then again, making that judgement on only a similarly treated paw injury might be rash. Nor would any Bloodclan cat be receiving Starclan's guidance, even their healers. But… might they receive guidance from their own dead perhaps? As the Tribe does, possibly? Another question for later.

„Training in Bloodclan can get rough then… though I'm not much surprised at that."

Talon shakes his head, turning and stepping away a good two tail lengths, before turning anew and removing his reinforcing claws, facing the Thunderclan tom, whom slowly sinks into a battle stance.

„Your technique can't get much better if you can't try out most your options in training. Small wounds will happen, unavoidable. The trick is not to damage more than you build up…"

As Talon sinks into a stance as well, Ashfur briefly hesitates. Training with Thistleclaw has brought i's fair share of wounds and if it weren't for the possibility of Leafpool asking too many questions, it'd no doubt be more and worse still. But Talon could not know any of that. Perhaps Bloodclan has a few cats training more like Thistleclaw and that comment was less meant for Ashfur personally… but why did it for a brief moment seem so directed at him? Perhaps that's just imagination…

With only a heartbeat's worth of time to prepare, Ashfur narrowly gets out of the way of Talon's paw, the Bloodclan warrior having closed the distance immediately with a quick leap, doubtlessly in direct response to Ashfur allowing himself to be distracted for a brief moment. With a snarl, the blue eyed tom goes in to counterattack. He won't repeat that mistake, not today at the very least. Remember, teeth are valid, use your full weight in a tackle… Between exhaustion and seriousness, between claws and the occasional drop of blood, the sting in his chest is forgotten, Ashfur's focus entirely on his opponent. Crashing into each other, swiping and leaping at each other, time passes for the two toms. The sparring from time to time interrupted by small lessons, things that could be improved, showcases and attempts on how to do better, before the main fight resumes anew. Ashfur finds his spirits lifted as several hits are landed, the brief sparkle of approval or even pride in Talon's eyes when the Thunderclan tom fends off an attack or succeeds in getting out of his comfort zone and using his teeth. The hight of triumph arrives when the blue eyed Thunderclan warrior manages a firm grip on Talon's scruff with his jaws, just above the collar, and with a forceful fling raises the Bloodclan cat's upper body first off the ground, before sending him back down to the side, crashing onto the cold clay below. Ashfur's pleased, if tired, gloating, even short-lived as it is, leaves him open for a heartbeat too long. Talon reaches up, hooking his claws in on both sides of Ashfur's head. Startled, the Thunderclan warrior tries to move back, which only ends in painfully pulling the grounded Talon along. With a firm pull, the red eyed warrior pulls Ashfur's head downward, leaving him with no defence as the Bloodclan tom raises his head up, finding easy access to close his jaws around Ashfur's throat. Remaining for a brief moment like this, Talon soon sheathes his claws and lets go of the other warrior's neck, though remains on his back, visibly a little tired. Ashfur lets off a quiet growl as the very unnerving sensation of fangs pushing against his veins goes away again and he regains the ability to raise his head without the weight of a fully grown warrior hanging from it.

„Hnn… can't say I like the feel of that…"

„Up to you to avoid it then"

Talon lays his head back with a pleased grin, before slowly rolling over into a loafing position.

„You have gotten better though, I can not deny it. Still, you gave me some opportunities I could have exploited, mistakes that could cost you a real battle. It still shows at times that you were trained to fight warriors who'll actively avoid lethal blows. You must protect your neck better"

Ashfur nods and sits down, rubbing his paw against his throat.

„Yeah… not yet good enough"

Talon rolls his eyes and slowly rises to his paws, stretching himself as a variety of small wounds glisten in the moonlight

„You remain too hard on yourself. You've improved and you will continue to. Your guard in general is better, more time and work to get through. Which is time and opportunity you can use to find openings in your opponent's defence. I had to think very quickly at the end there. If you hadn't gloated, it could have gotten dangerous for me."

With a calm hum, Ashfur looks over to Talon. The Bloodclan warrior's voice has generally become less distant over their meetings, but right after training it always sounds the most earnest. Right now, the words feel genuine, encouraging. Observing the dark grey Bloodclan cat pad over to the river's edge, Ashfur takes a moment to lap away the beads of blood a few minor scratches have left on his pelt, before following.

„Perhaps. But it's sometimes difficult to be patient. Especially with myself. As for the gloating, well…"

Sitting down beside the Bloodclan cat, Ashfur looks into the water running right before them.

„…not very frequent that I feel like I achieve much lately. Getting that hold, managing to throw you down, it felt like a small victory. Actual progress."

Talon lays down at the very precipice of the riverbank, lowering his wounded paw into the water. A brief shudder goes through the dark grey cat, Ashfur presumes due to the predictably icy temperature of the river, before Talon raises his gaze over to the sitting Thunderclan warrior.

„Plenty of time to celebrate after a battle's securely done and won. But I would agree, you show progress. Your training pays off…"

Ashfur can't help but notice the Bloodclan cat seem to trail off a bit towards the end, Talon's eyes lowering back to the water. His red gaze seems to grow thoughtful, displeasedly pensive. It's not difficult to tell the Bloodclan cat is drifting off into unpleasant thoughts.

„Is something the matter, Talon?"

Ashfur tilts his head, a bit of genuine concern in his voice. Talon flicks his nicked ear, his fuzzy tail pulling to his side

„It's been a busy time in Bloodclan since my last visit. A lot has happened and a lot to think about. I was very much looking forward to coming back here, but now that I'm here…"

A pause of seeming contemplation, before Talon looks back over to Ashfur again. Pensive red eyes search Ashfur's blue ones. Deep consideration and a bit of wariness move behind Talon's look, but as does a cautious hope.

„I CAN trust you, right?"

Ashfur holds the Bloodclan tom's gaze, narrowing his eyes slightly, trying to evaluate his options. Everything and everyone in Thunderclan would no doubt caution him against promising a Bloodclan warrior his standing trustworthiness. At the same time, Ashfur already somewhat trusts this cat. Talon could have killed him one time, left him to die another… He has laid bare his strife to this twoleg-place cat more directly than to clanmates he's known his entire life. The clan would not understand, much less be able to help much… Talon does, or at the very least tries. Taking a deep nasal breath, as a breeze lets the surrounding reeds sway and rattle against each other, Ashfur nods, before turning his gaze to the flowing water.

„Yes. I believe you can."

Talon closes his eyes an sighs deeply, before nodding slowly in reply.

„Very well… then for the things I will speak of to make sense, there may be something you should know about me… "