❦ Weary white tipped paws trod through the shroud of curling lichen in soft thudding steps that whispered against the hard packed earth with each falling pawstep, drooping, fatigued form slunk in as the russet brown apprentice made her way through the den as if she was a once dead feline of Starclan ripped from the extramundane, heavenly star hewn plains to walk the earth once more sign her head hung lowly, freckled face turned downwards as golden eyes stay fixated not on the world but on that which remained within the apprentices mind. Turning from his position at the now retreating form of Tuftedtusk, Mossfreckle turned his mossy hues to Squirrelpaw to assess her through a detached medical lenses before turning about-face and once again leaping over the babbling rivulet and padding on diligent paws to the herb storage that laid across the stream, within the cracking depths of the medicine dens belly - long, lanky neck reached and angular star marked head bobbed up and down as the tom gathered the herbs he needed for the molly’s clawed body from the crevices that raked through the stone as if an ancient giant had raked their own claws across the moss and lichen speckled stones. Returning from his briefest of excursions, the freckled herbalist set his supplies down and settled into the calm after the storm that healing truly was - a momentary rush of adrenaline as if he was playing at a god… he was no god though… simply a tool carefully honed and used for the good of his clan, all he wanted was the wellbeing of Shadowclan and thus all else could be damned - a gentle paw grazed the edges of Squirrelpaw’s gashes to dust away the flakes on now drying crimson once he had pushed her a poppy seed and instructed her to take it in calm and steady tones, each stroke was small - carful to not break the knitting together flesh. Once the wounds remained, vaguely visible against the still blooming trails of crimson, freckled nose twitched against the bittersweet, tanging, metallic scents once again but soon the marigold within his maw washed away the deadly, intoxicating scents and he began the danse macabre between life and death again - although she was fine, a little battered but fine felix just likes using pretty words. Marigold buds became a paste, white tipped paws dabbed into the golden liquid and blotted it gingerly to the wounds that peppered the white freckled apprentices pelt - small motions rubbed in the paste to the wounds on her face before moving to her sides and spine - cobwebs tufted to bandages which Mossfreckle bound over Squirrelpaw’s wounds to keep the golden paste on and the grim out. Lanky form stepped back, her wounds were covered with practiced ease and while seemingly worn out and slightly dissociated it seemed Squirrelpaw truly only needed a well earned rest now, there was nothing else the medicine cat could do so a gentle paw brushed the earth in a soft motion of dismissal, ”Please let me know if there is anything you need of me - if your wounds start acting up later or if anything begins to hurt that was not noticeable upon first glance - but for now go rest, give your wounds time to knit together and clot so that they heal well,” with that the tom turned and sought out the next wounded feline within his sunlight dappled burrow of a den.
❦ Oriental shaped ears perked as rasping tones settled gratingly against the soft hairs within the canals of his now alert ears, turning with care the freckled herbalist locked his gaze Honeybite as he padded over with the extra herbs he had gathered on his second excursion across the rivulet to pull from his stockade the needed herbs for Squirrelpaw and thus Honeybite’s wounds - silent mossy gaze hovered over the feline’s pelt as he rolled their words around within his star hewn mind like a kit with a ball of moss, a tentative truth they had spoken for the time being although the truth formed slowly within his own determination as each wound and ailment was noted by the medicine cat as well, to say the least he was appreciative of their internal assessment of themselves albeit he could do quite little about such. With a nod of appreciation to the feline he had seen alongside Nightshiver during the move, Mossfreckle pawed out two small, black, bead like seed and pushed them to the creamy ginger splotched feline, ”Take these please, it will ease the pain of the bruising, come back later if you need another when these wear off but two should numb both the internal and external pains for now,” were the calmly demeanoured words that slipped from the toms mouth as his white tipped paws busied themselves pulling and tufting cobwebs into thin strip bandages while his white twinged muzzle moved as he chewed the ruffled, golden orange bud into a fine, smooth paste. Blotting into the fine paste which he had spat onto a paw brushed clean spot of the hard backed earth the medicine cat dipped a petite paw into the golden liquid and began to gingerly apply the marigold poultice to the felines wounds, staring with small peppering of small scratches and ending with the gash that had been raked into their creamy flank - finishing the ointments application, Mossfreckle worked within practiced precision to tightly bandage each clotted claw mark before turning to address Honeybite once again, ”The bruises will take time to heal, but if you would like you are welcome to come into the den and sit in the stream, it deep enough to chill the bruises but not deep enough to need swimming - I am not too sure how helpful it will be but the water is quite cold since it comes form beneath the earth and is not exposed to the heat,” to be honest he was not too sure if it would help or not but it was worth the offer and honesty as he has little else to give the molly on terms of aid for the internal wounds of her hard fought battle.
@ellie - Mossfreckle
The Queen of Mean strolled into the medicine cat's den and sat down. She had cleaned up the blood on her pelt as best as she could, and her wounds had stopped bleeding a bit ago. If it were just some scratches, she could make do with just leaving them to heal on their own, but as she had some bites and puncture wounds mixed in, a visit to Mossfreckle was needed.
Initially, she would have liked to see Grousepaw's work, but she had only made him Mossfreckle's apprentice a bit ago. She doubted he had the training to deal with some of her wounds. She also wanted to have a word with Mossfreckle as well. As soon as the medicine cat gave her his attention she meowed, "How are Rookpaw and Fogwatcher?" Dawnstar lifted her injured forepaw up, showing him the bite on her leg so he didn't have to bend and tend to it.
"Don't bother wasting poppy seeds on me, the pain is tolerable." She added after a moment. The pain wasn't to the point where she couldn't think straight, moving hurt, but she was aware that it'd dull soon enough. She's tolerated worst.
__________________
siggy art by redshiftreign
Dawnstar is the leader of ShadowClan and will shred you if you enter her den. She has a semi-closed den policy. ShadowClan Resources ||| Dawnstar ||| ||| Kit Curriculum Finder
GROUSEPAW THE TRAILBLAZER "A GOVERNMENT OF HIPOCRITES, THESE COUNTERFIT POLITICIANS SIT IN PARLIMENT."
the trailblazer had awaited on lead-heavy paws like a brewing storm, dread sinking like riverstones in the pits of his stomach (twisting and churning like snakes, muscle fighting muscle and the heavy burden of responsibility fighting his innate desire to tear it down. tear it down). when the patrol had streaked back into camp, painted in a uniform splattering of crimson, dripping with blood both their own and foreign. grouse could tell, instantly, that it had been an absolute wipe.
the near-genocide was complete. riverclan was gone. the young healer wondered how many had fallen. how many mothers mourned their kits, how many children were left fatherless. he wondered how many mourned for long-time friends put into the ground.
if they had even been afforded that mercy. grouse frowned.
Quote:
Originally Posted by squidz
~ BRIARSPLASH ~
very large & fluffy dilute gray tortie she-cat with goldish-green eyes
[ shadowclan warrior | she-cat | 26 moons | abrasive, standoffish, loyal ]
Briarsplash hesitantly ducked into the den. She wasn't nearly as banged up as a lot of her other Clanmates, but... she still needed healing. The scratches were stinging something awful, and the steady dribble of blood above her eye was nearly making her crazy, so that was enough to make her stalk determinedly into the medicine den anyhow. The pungent scent of herbs made her nose slightly wrinkle as she entered.
"Uh... hi," she meowed quietly, her voice surprisingly soft for her stature. She hovered there for a moment, quite awkwardly, before stepping to the side and waiting to be treated. She absentmindedly licked at some of the bleeding wounds on her fluffy flank as she waited, letting out grunts of frustration as more blood dribbled into her eyes from the slash along her forehead.
still, briarsplash was here and her wounds looked relatively tame compared to some of those who mossboss had taken extra care to beckon to himself. on careful paws, the bulky apprentice appraised the damage then trotted over to scoop up the three things he thought he'd need immediately. this was paws on. . . no room for mistakes or forgetting. racking his mind for all his training, the young anarchist nosed through the stores and scraped up a rather small bounty before regrouping with his first patient.
he pushed forth a rather small little black dot, a poppy seed, "this should help with the pain," he declared, flashing one of his easy-going and casual grins as he moved to take care of her wounds.
with a ball of slightly damp moss clenched between his curved teeth, the tom carefully dabbed her face and eyes to clean and soak up any blood that had made its way where it shouldn't be. made it easier to see what was going on, too.
"how was the battle?" he asked through the marigold he chewed the bud into a paste, then carefully applied it to her dorsal injuries, like the forehead and flank. he made sure to spare some for her belly scratches.
"mind layin' down on your uninjured side for a second and letting me see those scratches on your stomach?" he requested, and if she did as asked, he'd apply the marigold too. maybe he was supposed to do one wound at a time, but with things this mild he didn't think it really mattered. or maybe it did. that was a thought to lose sleep over later. right now, he was a beacon of certainty.
pulling the cobwebs over the wounds to hold everything together and stifle the last of the bleeding, he sat back on his haunches and admired his work. not to shabby, if he had anything to say about it.
"did i get most of the blood out of your eyes? how they feelin'? if there's any damage from the blood, i'll probably pass you over to moss-" a pause, as if the sentance ended. he added, remembering he was in the company of dawnstar getting treated just a few tail lengths away "-freckle. buttttttt, if you're feeling fine, that should be all and you're good to head out. just don't do anything crazy and re-open your wounds."
yeah. he was really treading water. but like a trick candle, this fire could play dead mighty well.
〚~Willow'Paw~〛
| 9 Moons | ShadowClan Apprentice | Female, She/Her | Purrks:
Kitty Soft Paws, Heightened Perception [smell]
[a small, fluffy tortoiseshell she-cat with pale green eyes and an atrociously fluffy tail, a small bleeding tick in her right ear]
She was home.
It didn't feel as great as she thought it would, being away from the fighting and the death and the smell that still lurked in her nose and blood and claws slashing.
But this wasn't home. This wasn't the home she grew up in, this was home away from actual home.
Willowpaw realized: No, she could not infact just go straight to the apprentice's den and turn off her a brain and shut the world away. The pain wouldn't allow her too. Which, first of all, sucked. Second of all, . She sighed, hesitated, and then broke away from the group arriving with Mossfreckle. It took a while to find the healers den, she hadn't taken any time to memorize where the dens were. She was pretty sure the Medicine Den was underneath a cedar, but look around. Cedar seem to be the new trend going through town. If birch trees became trendy would they all shapeshift to it? After a [Willowpaw-has-declared-this-info-highly-classified-fbi-style] amount of time, she carefully ducked her head through the lichen covering the Medicine Den. It was a burrow underneath a cedar, not a den where you had to heave a whole tree aside to get too, as she'd first thought. There were little holes in the walls, some with herbs in them. Most of them were green, due nature's rule: the things that are the color of shrek are probably healthy ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ "H-Hello?" She mewed.
Hopefully whoever was going to help her didn't ask what happened after her battle. If that was the case, then she was pretty sure she'd turn into a lawnmower and fly away. Hmm, that actually sounded like a good plan to do right now. Or a bird. Did birds have thoughts? She thought having no thoughts for a while would be nice. Did prey think and have feelings and were they happy and sad sometimes? She felt her brain scream at her with culpability. They felt pain. They had too. They maybe didn't feel grief and anger and surprised, but they felt pain, or they wouldn't scream out or try to run away. Did they feel scared? She knew she'd be (not)scared if a giant Willowpaw came crashing down on her.
Though, honestly:
Just saying "go away" would make the Willowpaw run away crying.
once everything with briarsplash was tended to, the mottled apprentice made his way over to tend to an apprentice just a few moons younger than himself. he paused momentarily, the vague reminder that he was no longer a kid flashing through his mind. this was his 12th moon, wasn't it? the warm season had been much rougher thus far compared to the lush cradle of his early kithood. a full season cycle had elapsed.
he felt an odd dread. a glance spared over his shoulder around the den to remind himself of his newfound duties was all it took to dismiss the thought. it wasn't like he was going to have graduated on time anyway, if he had continued to blaze that trail. this was a new branch in the road, and as such, exploring it would take time and caution. there was very little room in the flaming, passionate heart of the trailblazer for self-loathing.
all he had to do was remind himself; just think of the people you can protect. and that lazy, ever-present grin returned to his maw, and he trotted over to willowpaw to assess the damage.
he had a very grounded, easy way about him. unshakeable was the proper word. sturdy. grouse was a far cry from the dainty and the elegant sharpness of his star hewn mentor, who's subtle green hues created an air of ethereal poise. grouse was broad shouldered and big toothed, a stupid grin plastered on his face and a low fire like the last embers of a stifled camp fire flickering in his amber eyes; lighting ablaze in the scarce rays of sunlight. he thrived off of living. grousepaw was composed, make no mistake, but he was unabashedly himself.
so when he settled in front of willowpaw to appraise her injuries, the kind, warm grin that followed was natural and easy. "hey, willow, was it? i'm grouse-" a pause. he had to correct himself. "-grousepaw. i'll be helping you out today." he hummed, craning his head to survey her, before standing back up and trotting over to the supplies. he collected what he needed, and returned, tail swaying languidly. "okay, so, i'm gonna patch you up. shouldn't hurt; might feel a little tingly though."
with that, he got to work. the second time was easier, more natural than the first. still, he felt a little awkward and uncertain, moving carefully to apply the chewed marigold over her scratches and cuts, and a small dab of the paste onto her ear. then, sealing everything up with cobwebs, he sat back to admire his work.
as a quick after thought, before he forgot, he pushed a small poppy seed to her. "this'll take the edge off the pain, by the way. after that, if you're feeling all good, you're free to get back to it. just don't pull open your wounds or anythin' crazy."
[everyone who sent in a starter for me to reply to that was not replied to yet will be getting a reply tomorrow or tonight! thank you for your patience.
__________________
grousepaw is shadowclan's medicine cat apprentice
they and mossfreckle have a semi-closed den policy.
❦ Angular star marked head dipped as soft mossy hues met the fires amber of his former mentor with a filial fondness that quickly faded as they settled on the true reason that the lithe grey molly was within his den in the first place, Rookpaw slipped from her muscular body and slumped gently to the floor, their dark rosetted pelt was made darker by the crimson welling from the multitude of gashes and claw marks that were raked bitterly into the apprentice’s pelt as if the depths of her new loyalty’s and past betrayals were materialised in each deeply carved mark, ”Thank you, Lostspark,” the freckles oriental tom purred before he quickly scuttled off to the crevice cracked rocks that held the slowly growing herb storage to gather the multitude of herbs needed to deal with the battering that Rookpaw had taken. Leaping the rivulet twice, Mossfreckle returned with haste to the dark pelted apprentice’s side, cool medical gaze roving across their mangled pelt with medical ease: deep claw marks that tickled like crimson rivers adorned her lanky sides and scratches peppered her body, one of their shoulders hung at an odd jutting and broken angle, one ear hung in bloody clumps of mangled flesh… they were a mess to say the least, dedicated and loyalty proven, but a mess nonetheless. Petite white tipped paw shuffled the vermillion and deep bluish black flower and pushed the two lose black bead seeds towards Rookpaw, ”Take these, please,” he didn’t say they were Poppy seeds, the apprentice already knew what they were and what they did, while he waited for the seeds to ease the pain the lanky toms head dipped to nuzzled the untattered side of the molly’s face in a friendly gesture so similar to their hidden friendship a few moons ago, ”You did good Minky, I am proud of you for staying true to Shadowclan even as the past was shoved starkly in front of you, you had the opportunity to betray us as you did them big you didn’t, and for that I am proud,” he had used his old nickname for the feline, had told them how he felt - calm demenoured tones slightly raw with emotion - Mossfreckle was not sure how his words would come off to the apprentice but he hoped Rookpaw would see them as they were, an bridge to what they had once shared… albeit a furthered version now that she resided alongside him in Shadowclan… the molly had proven themselves and part of him selfishly hoped that he had partially been the reason for her current state, as much as it pained him to see them battered and broken before his own coolly disconnected and slowly softening gaze.
❦ Mossfreckle’s words had been the briefest of moments, nothing more than a whisper of the wind but he hoped they meant as much to the apprentice as they had to him, held the same weight as he had intended them to carry - but this wasn’t about mending the aforementioned figuratively broken past, it was about mending the current physically broken present - angular, freckled head shook to clear his start mind, lanky neck stretched to grab a wad of moss and the medicine cat got to work gingerly washing away the crushing and clotting crimson that clinged to the white flecked darkly pelted molly and filled Mossfrekcle’s senses with the tangy, bitterly sweet, metallic scent of blood that sent the tom’s freckled nose twitching in neutral distaste. White tipped, feathery tail flicked idly as his diligent paws worked the cobwebs into wispy bandages while his maw worked to chew the ruffled, hesperidium coloured buds into a fine paste which was mixed with powdered five pointed leaves to help clot the welling blood that seeped from the apprentices pelt, once the poultice was made the freckled tom dabbed the golden liquid gingerly onto the felines wounds staring from her mangled ears to the tip of their bitten tail. With the wounds coasted in the sweetly scented poultice, Mossfreckle took the wisp of silken threads and banged the injury with practiced ease, the bleeding has slowed with the addition of the oak leaves… a good sign… none of the gashes and scratched seemed too bad, her ear was shredded but it seemed her hearing would be intact - the biggest annoyance would be the webs that now held the marigold goop to her nubbed ear.
❦ At last mossy hues settled in the oddly jutting limb that hung mangled but remained attached to the apprentices body - luckily amputation was not needed, only a splint and some much needed rest - which he was sure the apprentice would follow with a somewhat begrudging adherence… they always wanted to go, go, go… part of it was just who Rookpaw was and he couldn’t help but feel a twang of guilt at the words he had bluntly put forth, but he wouldn’t lie to them, they deserved the truth even if it hurt… they could take it… they were bold and strong and dedicated, just needed some refining and Mossfrekcle needed trust in them. A single paw braced beside Rookpaw and the other gently applied pressure to the broken shoulder before pressing down with a sharply controlled motion to pressed the broken bones into their aligned positions… he was ever so thankful for the skeleton remains of a long dead cat that had been left in the den by Elmshadow… before he wrapped the limb with a comfrey leave before bracing it with a firm stick and binding the splint with the remaining cobwebs to keep the muscles and healing bones in place, ”you will have to stay in the medicine den for the time being, Rookpaw, you can take any of the nest you like, let me know if you need anything minky,” the old nickname slipped out easily again… he hoped they didn’t mind… his task was finished and the spotted tabby oriental turned to heed Dawnstar’s beckon as she slipped through the lichen shrouding and into the sunlight dappled den beyond.
Moving with ease to the colossal mollies side Mossfreckle spoke respectfully but absentmindedly as his focus remained on seeking out the new bite, scratches, and claw marked that peppered his leaders already scarred body, “Fogwatcher is resting in a nest as is Rookpaw. Fogwatcher’s throat was slit and was treated on the battlefield but he will pull through, I barrelled Mistyshard out of the way before she could do anymore damage, I was less than thrilled to have my guard attacked when he was clearly caring herbs, but it was handled and he will be fine. As for Rookpaw, they too will be fine, also on nestrest as their shoulder was broken but they should be back in commission in a few weeks - they proved themselves well,” report given in his usually calm tones the medicine cat picked up ruffled sunset coloured bud and began to chew it into a fine paste - the lanky oriental had forgone his usual poppy seed step as per Dawnstar’s wishes, she was scared from muzzle to tail, Mossfreckle doubted that the dark pelted tabby felt much of anything at this point. With a gentle white tipped paw the medicine cat dapped into the golden paste, gingerly applying it to Dawnstar’s raised paw before branching out to coat the speckled, lesser wounds with a small blot of the infection preventing ointment. Finishing with his current task the herbalist pulled the cobwebs into bandages as his mossy hues rested respectively with Dawnstar’s amber orbs, the molly was bandaged with easy as the medic’s diligent paws bound the silken threads over the few ailments the large tabby molly had acquired, ”Let me know if anything is wrong or your wounds seem to not be healing, they aren’t too bad so I doubt they will have a problem,” as and after thought Mossfreckle added, ”how is your shoulder feeling,” she hadn’t come in and it had been a decent while since its dislocation but he wanted to do a final check up the old wound in case it had settled to an achy in between of healed and partially off kilter.
GROUSEPAW THE TRAILBLAZER "A GOVERNMENT OF HIPOCRITES, THESE COUNTERFIT POLITICIANS SIT IN PARLIMENT."
the trailblazer had awaited on lead-heavy paws like a brewing storm, dread sinking like riverstones in the pits of his stomach (twisting and churning like snakes, muscle fighting muscle and the heavy burden of responsibility fighting his innate desire to tear it down. tear it down). when the patrol had streaked back into camp, painted in a uniform splattering of crimson, dripping with blood both their own and foreign. grouse could tell, instantly, that it had been an absolute wipe.
the near-genocide was complete. riverclan was gone. the young healer wondered how many had fallen. how many mothers mourned their kits, how many children were left fatherless. he wondered how many mourned for long-time friends put into the ground.
if they had even been afforded that mercy. grouse frowned.
still, briarsplash was here and her wounds looked relatively tame compared to some of those who mossboss had taken extra care to beckon to himself. on careful paws, the bulky apprentice appraised the damage then trotted over to scoop up the three things he thought he'd need immediately. this was paws on. . . no room for mistakes or forgetting. racking his mind for all his training, the young anarchist nosed through the stores and scraped up a rather small bounty before regrouping with his first patient.
he pushed forth a rather small little black dot, a poppy seed, "this should help with the pain," he declared, flashing one of his easy-going and casual grins as he moved to take care of her wounds.
with a ball of slightly damp moss clenched between his curved teeth, the tom carefully dabbed her face and eyes to clean and soak up any blood that had made its way where it shouldn't be. made it easier to see what was going on, too.
"how was the battle?" he asked through the marigold he chewed the bud into a paste, then carefully applied it to her dorsal injuries, like the forehead and flank. he made sure to spare some for her belly scratches.
"mind layin' down on your uninjured side for a second and letting me see those scratches on your stomach?" he requested, and if she did as asked, he'd apply the marigold too. maybe he was supposed to do one wound at a time, but with things this mild he didn't think it really mattered. or maybe it did. that was a thought to lose sleep over later. right now, he was a beacon of certainty.
pulling the cobwebs over the wounds to hold everything together and stifle the last of the bleeding, he sat back on his haunches and admired his work. not to shabby, if he had anything to say about it.
"did i get most of the blood out of your eyes? how they feelin'? if there's any damage from the blood, i'll probably pass you over to moss-" a pause, as if the sentance ended. he added, remembering he was in the company of dawnstar getting treated just a few tail lengths away "-freckle. buttttttt, if you're feeling fine, that should be all and you're good to head out. just don't do anything crazy and re-open your wounds."
yeah. he was really treading water. but like a trick candle, this fire could play dead mighty well.
~ BRIARSPLASH ~
very large & fluffy dilute gray tortie she-cat with goldish-green eyes
[ shadowclan warrior | she-cat | 26 moons | abrasive, standoffish, loyal ]
~
Briarsplash was relieved when Grousepaw seemed relaxed, like he knew what he was doing. Good; though she wasn't one to necessarily look down on apprentices' abilities (it would be rather hypocritical considering her background), she still felt a tad bit suspicious only from natural ignorance. But he moved with ease, so she relaxed her stiff muscles, not complaining one bit when the medicine apprentice began to work.
Glancing down at the poppy seed, Briarsplash hesitated at first, wanting to insist that she didn't need it... but honestly, the stinging was getting on her nerves, so she might as well. The warrior nodded and lapped it up gratefully after the brief pause. It didn't take too long for the first little wave of relief to start to hit her as Grousepaw continued working. At his next question, she let out a dry little laugh, almost sarcastic in nature when recalling the nature of the raid.
"The battle? Bloody. Lots of death... mostly on RiverClan's side, of course. It was over sort of quickly... though I am surprised those fishes didn't surrender earlier. They lost a whole lot more than they could've, had they just realized..." She trailed off slightly, narrowing her eyes in thought. "If I'm honest, they fought harder than I thought they would've, especially with their odds. But of course, they were no match for us." All three of us, she added silently. Had it been overkill? Absolutely. But it had sent those minnows away with a message they wouldn't soon forget, for generations to come. It felt quite satisfying to know she'd played a part of that. Her golden-green eyes glinted as she recalled.
The large warrior nodded to his next request, laying on her side and exposing her belly. She grimaced but held her tongue as Grousepaw applied the stinging concoctions to her sensitive flesh, knowing it needed to be done — not that it made it sting less, of course. But it was finally over, the sticky layers of cobweb now being stuck to her wounds. She hated the sensation of cobwebs, especially on her thick coat, but she'd have to force herself not to lick or claw it off.
Briarsplash's whiskers twitched in curiosity when Grousepaw paused after the word 'Moss', wondering what he was originally gonna say. But she simply nodded, relieved to finally be able to see a bit better. "You got the blood out enough — thanks," she added with a grateful huff. "And don't worry... don't plan on doing much after this day."
With that she dipped her head in thanks, a tad awkward on social etiquette but trying her best. While she didn't know the first thing about the medicine cats' practice, she could certainly respect it. So the warrior spent an extra thought to give them courtesy, especially for helping her out. Then she padded out, being careful in her movements — with all these injured, they couldn't spare an extra cobweb for her carelessness. She didn't aim to be the one waddling back for being a rat-brain.
The path home had proven to be a slightly weary one; the adrenaline having worn off, despite the newfound vigour in her veins, reaching camp simply had... Something about it. She couldn't quite place it, but after having dropped off the bird on the pryepile, it felt as though the sting in her paw grew all the worse and the ripped tip of her ear proved all the more trouble, much like the punctures making her shoulders feel stiff and uncomfortable. Much similarly, seeing those around her being treated - the blood being washed off - a feeling of surrealness remained about her, a feeling Sleepypaw couldn't shake as she glanced down at the slight remnants of blood she had failed to wash off. A struggle, a hesitance, a fear; something she couldn't show, something she couldn't share and that shouldn't be - Miss Grandmama praised her, Mistlewhisker and Darkstrangerdad praised - mama told her to do so - her actions must have been right, and yet they felt... Different. She couldn't place it, even as a dull gaze and tired paws led her closer to the healing duo where Mossfreckle and Grousepaw were working, the young apprentice wordlessly slumping down to her haunches. She felt tired.
〚~Willow'Paw~〛
| 9 Moons | ShadowClan Apprentice | Female, She/Her | Purrks:
Kitty Soft Paws, Heightened Perception [smell]
[a small, fluffy tortoiseshell she-cat with pale green eyes and an atrociously fluffy tail, a small bleeding tick in her right ear]
Right now, half of the world was the pain in her ear and the side of her face. The other half of the world was her having an imaginary showdown with her nose. She lunged for nose, attempting to brawl it down to the floor. To be fair, nose had tried to kill her first! Nose blasted scents right into her face. She roared with pain. OWCHIEEEE. She kept on fighting her one of her own senses in her mind. 'You'll never kill me alive! You'll have to kill me before i die!' Her brain stated the obvious. 'you need to mouth shut' She retorted at herself. She was so immersed in trying to stop herself from fighting her nose in her mind and focus on the real world ('OK. Stop fighting a gosh darn enemy that isn't even there. No but i need to bring justice to us! There is no us. There is really just me being a huge weirdo. How about you do mouth shut then?') that when Grousepaw seemingly materialized out of pure air, her already on-edge self jumped like a mouse. "AAAAAAAAABODIBIDIBABAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAMbambamBAMBAM BAM- OWWWWWWWWW" The "BAM BAM BAM-" of her very gracious cry of alert accidentally sounded like the outro song to Seinfeld and soon the credits began rolling, but they stopped as her head bonked right into the roof. Some film director made a confused call in the distance, and small dust particles floated down in protest to the cat who just slammed her head right into the ceiling as you do.
Willowpaw is in pain.
'Willowpaw. Willowpaw does the Medicine Cat apprentice really look like someone who would try to murder you? Well, yea- YOUR MOUTH YOU NEED SHUTS BECAUSE NOW WILLOWPAW I DO NOT HEAR YOU LALALALALALALALA BLAH BLAH LALALALA-'. She put up a strained smile. Yep she was totally fine. Her head definitely didn't feel like it was whapped with a semi truck. Yep yep yep. Mhm uhuh yes yes. "Salutation, uh, Gr-Grousepaw! Th-Thank you for such much obliged, ge-generous assis-assistance when I-I am in s-such rem-remarkably prodi-prodigious affliction." She said in a small voice. Did she sound all stuck up? Did she seem like an absolute idiot? The idiot one maybe wasn't much of a question. A headache manifested with a drum-roll increasing in pitch as it appeared with the smile of that one jerma meme. Her wounds were all going to the local pain-choir because they wanted to "chase their dreams". She was normally fine with someone doing what they wanted to, but right now, NOT RIGHT NOW BECAUSE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-. She felt a little faint, but she willed the faint feeling away with her oh so shiny and sparkly unbreakable will that she definitely had that only compared to William Afton's. She flinched approximately 8 times while the redish-orange-yellowish flower was applied to her wounds. She felt ready to reincarnate into Simba and flee the savanna because that seemed better than her current situation. She was about to morph into the definition of when poppy seeds were presented to her. The stars had mercy on her! Thank you StarClan! How about you, like, fix all the moral problems in the forest next! What? N-No? Why? Willowpaw gratefully took the poppy seeds. It took a very annoying amount of time for the pain to die down, but she felt blessed when it did. There was still a weird shaky feeling in her muscles, and a she felt sore around her limbs EVEN THOUGH THEY WEREN'T EVEN HURT?? Hello sore-system explain yourself now please. "Th-Thank you a-again."'Now, Willowpaw who do we blame for you hitting yourself on the head? Grousepa- Nope. Wrong, You failed. Your a failure, Get out loser. Its your own fault. Go eat a rotten mouse. No you. I no you your no you. Oh no what ever will i do? OoOOhHhhh nooooOOoOO! Ok please be quiet. Oh now your gonna do this? LALAALALALALAL BLAH BLAH CAN'T HEAR YOU DON'T WANT TO HEAR YOU. Wow i really am insane. Maybe i should slam my head in the roof again. I mean, sure, if you want.'
Plan A: If too embarrassed about slamming head in ceiling, slam head in ceiling again and pass out. Plan B: Slam head in ceiling again again to double pass out. Plan C: Don't do anything but use your William Afton will to pass out. Plan D: There is no plan D sorry man. Plan E: If Plan D doesn't work, make a plan.
Honeybite listened attentively as Mossfreckle spoke, and pushed the poppy seeds her way. She lapped them up, crushing the small, black seeds between her teeth before swallowing.
She sat and allowed the Medicine Cat to work the marigold paste into her fur. She suppressed a shudder at the sticky feeling clinging to the surrounding fur.
It is always her least favourite part of battle, the healing. On a normal day, she'd have left with fewer injuries, but the hectic disarray of today's battle had put her strategy to the wayside and left her open for every scratch that decorated her pelt.
She'd always prided herself in her ability to remain scar-free after all these years, a testament to her agility in combat. They were small enough, her fur would cover whatever didn't heal pretty.
She hums when Mossfreckle offers the small stream in his den. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you," she murmurs.
❦ Turning away from the dark pelted, colossal, and deeply scared molly, mossy hues settled on the white tufted apprentice who slunk through the lichen shrouding and into the belly of his den which should have been an all too familiar place if it hadn’t been for the migration away from the old camp and shrugging off the physical burdens of the past and venturing into the unknown that resided all too near their now seemingly vast expanse of conifer forest that had grown more and more unfamiliar with each soft pawstep of the shadowy mass of flesh and bone gang seemed to move more as a wisp than a feral beast roaming the forest, they had been weak and thus they paid the price not with their lives but with their life, the way things had been so suddenly uprooted like the very giants that seemed to walk amongst them after years of dormant sleep - it was all too real and by the look in Sleepypaw’s wistful and haunting lapis hues it seemed that to her the world was all too real now too, too vibrant and bitter and harsh, a realisation of the cold hard truth… a realisation that you like it. Heady in the air the metallic tang of bittersweet blood once again intoxicated Mossfreckle’s senses, what once had seemed so urgent and precious was no just a merger fact of life - the clans fought, blood spilled, lives flickers out - the world was no more than an endless cycle of birth and death with each feline tangled in a vicious and utterly beautiful danse macabre, and to say the least Sleepypaw stood as a testament to those ways, even as her form craved the sweet release form the fatigue weighing heavy in her bones she stood as an “ark”angel… thrust into battle, so much to prove… battered form honing the fire that flooded the quiet mollies spirt - a force to reckon with. Reaching forward the freckled herbalist extended his lanky neck so that his angular head rested onto of Sleepypaw’s for the briefs of moments his freckled nose touched that of his adoptive nieces, ”I am proud of you Sleepy, we all are,” the tom’s felicitation rang in calm tones over his tabby shoulder as he padded on diligent paws to retrieve the last of his supply to take care of one his former mentors eldest daughters… this wouldn’t do… he noted as the crevices that crackled into the stone were left empty in the wake of his maw, emergency patrols needed sent out as soon as he completed his current task.
❦ Leaping the rivulets that trickled in a cascade in the stone walls and split the medicine den in half, Mossfreckle returned to the black and white pelted felines side and pushed two small black seeds in her dircetion, ”Take these please, you may feel drowsy but it will do you some good anyway to get some sleep,” the herbalist said as his oriental form bobbed down to retrieve the ruffled bud between his fangs and begin the process of turning the young floral herb into a aseptic paste which was spat onto the hard packed earth once it was deemed to be a fine golden liquid. With practiced ease a white tipped paw dabbed into the marigold paste and blotted each wound that sprawled in an epic tale over the apprentices small body, a battle well fought… a battle won… with the scars to tell like a tapestry against her flesh. Extra care was taken for the bite in her paw, the puncture wounds, and the ripped right ear - which would remain intact albeit some tattering may remain in its wake - before the medicine cat began to bandage the major wounds and stick small tufted wafts to the somewhat less severe wounds that simply needed a little staving off of the drops of blood that welled in cracking of the already drying blood that caked Sleepypaw and stained her dark pelt a vibrant yet muted russet brown. Silently, without fanfare or any motion worth warranting the attention of prying eyes Mossfreckle grabbed a ball of moss and dipped it within the stream before working on cleaning the bloodstained molly of the memories she probably equally wanted to forget and remember at the moment, flakes of crusted blood that had been attempted to be removed but still lingered ingrained in her fluffy pelt washed away - it waned perfect my any means but it better and she looked more like herself than some hell sent angel of death - ”Get some rest, love,” the oriental tom spoke absentmindedly as he cleaned the blood speckled and crusted earth before him, ”You are welcome to return here once you do, the water here is deep enough to bath in so you can get the rest of the tougher blood off then if you would like.”
Re: 3v1 Mass Healing Thread
Mossfreckle is Shadowclan’s Medicine Cat 
After a [Willowpaw-has-declared-this-info-highly-classified-fbi-style] amount of time, she carefully ducked her head through the lichen covering the Medicine Den. It was a burrow underneath a cedar, not a den where you had to heave a whole tree aside to get too, as she'd first thought. There were little holes in the walls, some with herbs in them. Most of them were green, due nature's rule: the things that are the color of shrek are probably healthy ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ "H-Hello?" She mewed. 
