[iliri]

Springpaw
long-furred, oriental-shaped, gray-and-orange calico molly with blue eyes; torn right ear
purrks: herbal knowledge - tier 2 | the collector | mind reader[all perm. active]

Drizzlecloud’s quick assumption was quick to catch the oriental-shaped feline’s attention with her brows suddenly furrowing out of disconcertment. Could it have really been a rat bite and she didn’t have any clear indication about it? From further investigation, the bite was indeed rather small to the visible eye, but it wasn’t like Springpaw had ever truly seen a rat bite before, as ThunderClan never truly dealt with such horrendous problems as of yet. The nagging thought was more than enough to make the long fur along her hackles to raise out of indignity, but she fought back the rather impulsive action to do so, rather silently using her tongue to rearrange the yellow blooms dangling from her jaws, furrowing her brows thoughtfully as she focused her gaze towards the young tom-cat right in front of her, whose deadpanned stare was giving her more apparent notice that the apprentice was indeed not amused. Well, it wasn’t like she could really argue with that; if she was bitten by something and waiting for treatment, she’d surely be having someone’s head if she was using only three out of four legs to properly stand.

Words had climbed up her throat to respond to Drizzlecloud’s assumption, but Sprucepaw’s statement caught her attention further in as she focused her blue gaze back towards his emerald hues, catching the clipped, stern tone that was heavy within his voice while he spoke. A mole bite? That was something new… or rather unexpected. Springpaw hadn’t ever treated anyone with a mole bite before, nor had she ever dealt with anyone coming into the medicine den with a bite as small as Sprucepaw’s, but thankfully, at least it was a mole bite, not anything poisonous or carrying any sort of lethality. Flashing a quick look towards Drizzlecloud, she gave her mentor a brief nod before leaning in towards the injured paw in closer inspection, briefly dropping the sunshine-yellow broom as she pulled it closer to herself with a snow-fired forepaw, in preparation for taking some of the bloom and turning it into a poultice to smear onto the bite.

“We won’t be requiring any burdock for something as simple as a mole bite, I think,” the pastel calico explained, carefully using her front claws to prick off small bits of broom to use for a poultice as she eyed the bite with a frown smeared on her lips. “It looks like all it’ll be needing is some poultice smeared onto it and some cobwebs to make sure to keep the poultice on from any potential infection developing later on. Thankfully, this bite doesn’t need to be cleaned since it is far too small to be wasted with any wet moss. Do you think you can grab a small wad of cobwebs to cover the bite after I put some of this onto the bite after it’s made into a poultice? I’ve been wanting to experiment for a while now on what this herb does since we will be needing alternatives for marigold if we run low on the supply.”

It was rather true that they were going to need alternatives for marigold in case they were going to run into any sort of mild to severe herb shortages by the time the worst of leaf-bare has fully arrived. It was only the mere beginning of leaf-fall with all of the bitter, teeth-clattering cold and longer, darker nights that started to stroll in. Even with her long fur, it wasn’t easy to keep warm against the constant crashing of brisk winds that hit against her face. Speaking of the cold, she was already feeling an unsettling chill shivered its way up her spine like a sneaky snake, the tri-colored fur along her tail instinctively fluffing up against the cold that buried itself into her body. Biting back the rather impulsive choice of words that crawled its way up her throat against the teeth-clattering cold, she shifted herself as she hauled the small pile of broom closer to herself, leaning down in preparation to start chewing it up into a pulp and smearing it onto the bite along Sprucepaw’s injury. However, it wasn’t long for the young healer to take note of the wash of shame and irritation that masked her patient’s facial expression, her lips forming into a rather plantitive smile.

“Don’t look so discouraged, Sprucepaw, it was just only a mere little bite,” the young healer explained, gesturing mainly toward his injured paw. “As long as you have managed to get the little stinking mole, it shouldn’t be much of a problem to deal with after this bite is treated. Just be glad it ain’t anything worse than that, or I might’ve made the choice to put you on nest-rest for a few weeks.” A small assortment of amused purrs rumbled its way through her chest as she gave the deadpanned tom-cat a more relaxed, temperate smile along her lips. “Other than that, after the bite is fully healed, I’m going to be far from certain that you won’t bother to stick your paw into little critter dens like that again, huh? They’ll do anything to protect their homes you know, just like we’ll do anything to protect ours. Instead, why not try to find some acorn nuts or any seeds to draw the prey out? It works more efficiently than sticking your paw in and risking a potential bite such as this one right here. I hope you keep that piece of info handy for any other occasions that come by. It’ll help you out in the upcoming future.”

Her advice was a heavy mouthful and she knew it herself, but it’s better to be a mouthful of words than little to nothing, right? If she gave the tom-cat zero advice, then how would he learn how to attract prey out from hiding places rather than just trying to stick a random paw into its home and risking a bunch load of bites and nips from prey? It was much easier to tell him information that would help him than just telling him to go on about his day and ignore it as if nothing happened in the first place. If he ignored her advice, then hopefully he would take it into some sort of consideration the next time he tried to hunt prey then. Shifting herself back into a loaf position, she carefully pulled the small bits of bloom closer to herself to begin chewing it up into a poultice to slather onto the bite. Her tongue almost instinctively pulled back against the bitter taste that landed on her taste buds, but she gradually grew to ignore it. It wasn’t like she hadn’t done such a thing before when she was helping aid for her other patients, so why would she have such a reaction now to almost the same thing?

@Alchemist Kitsune @something.