GROUSEPAW THE TRAILBLAZER
⋆˖ The Fool ˖⋆ SILVER TONGUE - JUST A SCRATCH - BURN, BABY, BURN
"the world is burning, feel the heat. blink and miss it: happens fast."
it was bloody hot. summer was winding up full-swing and bearing down on shadowclan in all its righteous fury. the anarchistic healer could see a lot of cases like this on the horizon where cats would come in with heat sickness. Grousepaw himself had to be careful- his pelt was thick and two layered. On his side solely was the fact that he was mostly lighter coloured. er. . . more or less.
so, he wasn't surprised when mossboss called him over and his gaze alighted on an unconscious warrior. for a brief moment, amber eyes widened before he surged forwards to help mossfreckle settle the she-cat into the stream and in the same motion, scoop a ball of damp and cool moss up and trot forwards towards darkfire.
it was then, much to his surprise and panic, that he saw the tom sway then topple. grousepaw surged forwards, dropping low in an effort to catch the warrior with his large and sturdy build, wincing at the scorch of warm fur against his own. carefully, he attempted to hook a shoulder under the other tom and guide him to the stream.
"easy, easy, easy." he soothed, more to stifle his own nerves than anything else. sparing a nervous glance to his mentor, he flashed an awkward smile, the moss still clutched between curved fangs.
❦ A sleepy dramatised protest slipped from Hillstrider’s awakened honeyed ginger form as the lanky herbalist slipped from his warm embrace and padded on weary paws, beckoning the larger tom forward and out, beyond the lichen shrouding and into the quite world that slumbered under the moonlight that hazed the clearing as it glistened off wisp of fog and tiny swirls of dust puffed up by tiny zephyrs that carried the lingering scents of heat wilted sweet blooms and the heady alpine of the conifer canopies that surrounded them. Mossy hues glanced to settle in sleep ridden sunny orbs that rested half lidded, blinking open and close as they grow heavier with lingering sleep, heavy head resting on the herbalists freckled shoulder. Soft barbed tongue licked gently and comfortingly against his still prickling pelt and Mossfreckle smiled a little to himself as he shuffled his white tipped paws and oriental into a stance more sturdy and resilient against the heavy weight of Hilly that sleepily nudged into him.
Nightmare?
❦ One word, the answer should when been so simple, so cut and dry and exact… yes OR no… no “yes and no but that’s what it was a fundamentally wrong and whether it be a prophecy or omen or dream or some hell sent concoction of all and none the medicine cat was not too sure how to state the feelings of what he had experience… death awakening to a mock rebirth. With wide eyes the medic took in the sky, followed each tinkling spark as his thought danced along internally with the glimmer of each wink of the stars, ”Ye-“ he starts and catches himself, ”Yes, or so I think for now… it’s hard sometimes to differentiate the horrid reality form the grasp of one’s imagination…” how much was he willing to share, ”omens come in all shapes and forms, some easy to solve and others ripping at you from the inside out and others are subtle almost dreamlike, it’s hard sometimes to know if it’s some archaic cat or the manifestations of all the things in my core. But enough about that,” a somewhat fake smile and a gesture to lay done, ”No reason to ruin a pretty clear sky… and it looks like someone could use some sleep,” lilting and calm Mossfreckle’s tone reveal none of the strife of the starry reeling of his mind, only life cold composure and an immaculately painted mask of ease.
Hillstrider
ShadowClan
he/him | 21 moons
[Big fluffy orange tabby with yellow eyes] Purrks: Heightened Perception (Hearing)
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ The Sun ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
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[Mossfreckle - @elio ]
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Hillstrider did his best to listen to Mossfreckle as his friend struggled to wade through his swirling thoughts. A rounded ear flicked Mossfreckle's neck in sympathy, the orange tom frowning. "Yo, that's some heavy stuff my dude." Dreams could be that bad? To make you feel like you were being torn apart? Hillstrider was suddenly glad he didn't dream at all. There was a moment of silence between them, Hillstrider sorting through the sleepy remains of his intelligence and trying to figure out what to say. "Well, at the end of the day..." his plumy tail swept the ground, kicking up a small flare of dust that twinkled in the starlight. "You can only do so much, Moss m'dude. The more you bash your head against a problem, the harder it becomes to solve." Hillstrider straightened, twisting to look down at his lanky compatriot. "That's why I stopped trying to knock squirrels out of trees with my head." He gently bumped Mossfreckle's shoulder with his striped head, then grinned smugly. "And let me tell you, I'm an expert problem-solver now."
As the pair slipped into comfortable silence, Hillstrider set his gaze up at the stars. They twinkled merrily, and his eyes sparkled in return. "Gee, y'know Moss..." Hillstrider looked back to his dappled friend, expression impossibly open and kind. "You got those same stars in your eyes. Same as the ones up there." His sunny eyes flicked between the sky and Mossfreckle's face. "Ain't that something?" The words tumbled out of him, piling onto the ground in front of their paws like sticks.
Yewkit was exhausted, but she couldn't suppress a giggle of delight as the dark gray she-cat - whose name was really long and confusing; Bookfire or something like that? What was a Bookfire? Then again, she didn't know what a Cheeto was, either - grabbed her by the scruff and lifted her into the air. Her stomach swooped with excitement as her gaze rose closer to the sky. Was this what the adults saw? That was, like, great! A purr rumbled in her dry throat as she waved her muddy paws - then promptly let them hang as fatigue clenched her muscles like teeth.
She wasn't sure where she was being taken. All she knew was that was her home now. The place she was meant to be! The place Mama and Papa had been looking for! Well... except they wouldn't be here. But that was alright! Yewkit had a name now, and she'd get food once she wasn't... gross? Did Bookfire call her gross? Yewkit scowled. She wasn't gross! She was strong! How dare she?! Mama and Papa always say me strong! Why not these cats? Was she not... being strong enough?
The giant tree they'd passed earlier, different from the others, loomed up ahead. Yewkit felt a burst of excitement, but it didn't completely chase away her sadness. Was she not being good enough? Well, then... then she'd have to be better! She clamped her jaws shut and tried to ignore her tired body or the rumbling in her stomach. She swallowed the weird wet, burning sensation she got when she felt sad. Tears? Was that what they were called? No cry. Me strong. Yewkit strong!
Wait, why were they going into the tree? The weird, tangled roots loomed closer. Were they being eaten?! Yewkit kept her head high - as best she could with Bookfire holding her, anyway - and refused to give in to the rising feeling in her belly. She was not scared! Nuh-uh! The roots ate them, and everything was dark for a second even though Yewkit kept her eyes wiiiide open, and...
Woah!
There was a huge den in here, even bigger than Mama Badger's den! So many colorful, pretty things lay all around the area. A sharp, disgusting smell hit Yewkit's nose. She gagged as her stomach turned. That wasn't fun. Strong, she reminded herself, trying to curl her lip to drive out the taste while keeping her expression as neutral as possible. Yewkit thought she was doing a great job. However, she was failing miserably.
She wanted to be put down so she could run around and drink from the stream and eat the colorful flowers. Surely they were edible? Yewkit wanted to ask Bookfire! However, she didn't want to be called gross again. She had to be quiet and good and not complain so she would be happy!
@alec @elio @redshiftreign (Yewkit is covered in mud, which isn't mentioned in detail here! She also doesn't feel her scratched pads because she has Just a Scratch)
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Not roleplaying for now; indefinite hiatus
rookfire entered the medicine den like many times before, a bit more stiff than usual though, with the kit between his teeth he felt like he might knock into something if he didnt move very carefully, which was stupid. but he couldnt make it stop by accepting how stupid it was.
once they were in, rookfire almost dropped the kit from standing height, forgetting and momentarily not caring that it was a bit more of a fall now than it wouldve been a few moons ago and the kit was not even close to apprentice aged in addition to probably being malnourished, and reluctantly bent down to put the kit down gently instead. "mossy?" rookfire called into the den even though the herbalist had most likely already taken notice of them as there had been no effort to be quiet. the nickname had passed his lips with a soft reluctance so very different to the one he had felt when putting the kit down. whilst he hadnt loved bending down to put soil beneath yewkits paws because he didnt like bowing down to those he didnt deem worthy, this time it was fuelled by fear of rejection and the general discomfort he felt about letting nicknames slip into conversation. trying to redirect his thoughts away from this, he watched the kit carefully, the heavy herby smell that never quite thinned out enough to smell the fresh air outside was nothing short of comforting though, soothing some of the tension that had settled into rookfires muscles. someone remind him to keep away from kits in the future tho... "stay where you are or im throwing you back out into the outskirts" the enforcer spoke calmly yet firmly enough for the kit to realistically realise he was being serious, even though he had no right in deciding something like that. the kit didnt know. so why should he care.
[ @TheNyanCatMinecart - yewkit @elio - mossy | short posts only today yall, im half asleep apologies if anything sounds weird ]
Lostspark followed after Moonkit, pawsteps light. It was when she entered the Medicine Den and spotted the un-tended Queen that her pace quickened, critical gaze scanning the molly over. Looking around for Mossfreckle and Grousepaw, Lostspark pursed her lips with quiet disapproval. Where were they? She did not expect them to constantly be at paw, but Stonelight...
Stonelight did not smell well at all. Any more delay and Lostspark feared the wound would get infected. "Stay put." Lostspark told Moonkit sternly, striding off to the herb storage after scanning Stonelight over to grab the items she needed. A moment later she was back, dipping her wad of moss in the stream trickling through the Medicine Den and cleaning the blood from the queen's injuries.
"Don't move." She ordered Stonelight, setting the moss down and chewing the marigold into a paste to layer onto the feline's head, sealing it with cobwebs. She stepped back finally. "You wounds should scab and heal, but I swear to the stars if you re-open them I will personally have you gather the herbs needed before I re-seal them."
Lostspark let that hang in the air a moment, and then sat down. "Now tell me what happened in the first place."
It'd taken him too long to come home. Well, probably not enough to kill him, but he usually would've gotten their faster, but his damn leg refused to stop hurting like hell. He was here now though.
(sorry for late reply!) "There were some dogs. There were also twolegs. Cryingelk died." He explained simply.
[ @elio ]
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"Tomatoes are in the same family as some of the world's deadliest poisons. That just goes to show how rebellious tomatoes are." "What about how the apple can fall far from the tree?" "No, sometimes the tomato falls from the plant."
❦ Mossy hues dart up from white tipped paws which work in a meticulously choreographed and unconscious duet of moments as they shuffle herbs in a compulsive organisational state as if they had not been pulled from the cracking crevices in which they resided in perfect harmony - each like herb placed together, each placement chosen for ease of memorisation - but the moments hazed state breaks as large ears perk forward in alert as the whisper soft sounds of paws scraping on the hard packed soil mingle with the peripheral, fuzzy aspersions of a familiar muscled, bluish grey pelt which slunk with over cautious movements through the shrouding of silvery orange and muddied verdant toned lichen momentarily glistening in the bright golden rays of the noon sun which beamed vehemently and blaming upon the world which resided just beyond the mouth of the medicine den which had always been an almost otherworldly place with its towering, ancient cedar crown and internal dappling of root filters sunlight, a gentle babbling filling the heady herb scented den as chilled water cascaded from a crevice in the stone and tumbled wildly into a calm rivulet which split the burrow into two symmetrical halves. Tentatively Mossfreckle watches as Rookfire picks his way closer and closer, neatly toned pelt rippling as he leaps with ease over the stream his white tipped paws landing in a unilateral roll as long fore limbs thud softly before hind legs lands in a running follow before he pads to stand in awkward but easing strive before the freckled herbalist. Flitting gaze settles to fall upon the silken, powder blues that soon reveal themselves as the tops of velveteen gauze wings, a butterfly lays between the two toms with its beauty a memorial requiem even in the embrace of death it now floated in… it intrigued him… the beauty of death, the sweet softened view one got when the corpses of those long gone remained in silent peace, it was a morbid way of thinking - yes - but there was something so lovely about starting fate in the eyes and living to tell the tale. The lifeless butterfly between them had a fragile gentleness to it, a silent and aching reminder of the fragile state of their slowly healing relationship… blossoming from wilted buds… blooming into something new and delicate. A soft smile pulls at the corners of Mossfreckle’s white twinged maw as Rookfire’s seemingly cumbersome explanation is the small gift he had brought the medic… err little thank you for patching me up..n the other thing… he didn’t press on the other thing only took the butterfly within his paws gingerly and held it trying not to blush or cry or some combination at both… he has never gotten a gift… and the butterflies that fluttered in glinting moonlight within his tummy made him chuckle as the warmth of the moment rouged his freckled cheeks. Curiously piqued and deeply intrigued the medicine cat simply stood for a moment in the sun patches of the burrow and cradled the dead insects back and forth to see the oceanic glimmer of its wings like the sea spray that caught in the full moons beam and cast a prism of colourful light onto the darkened sand, ”T-thank you…” he chirped still a little stunned at the usually stoic enforcers action - no matter how much it really meant to him. Placing the insect in a balanced position in a small crack of the stone wall Mossfreckle took a step back to assess the mid flight affect that had been created before he turned his mossy hues back to the feline which sat within his den, his pelt was ruffled upon further and closer observation, as if he had rushed with little regard for the obstacles
and underbrush which opposed his chosen, seemingly quickest route and ignored the pricks of the many small burrs that clung to the enforcers dark pelt. A teasing tsk tsk was the healers only sound as he moves to take the first burr between his sharp canines and pulled it with ease form the others pelt, freckled nose taking in cool night air and herbal scent that seemed to cling to Rookfire as he bobbed his head down to lick the small pinprick of blood form the burr away before he moved onto the next in a repetitive manner before he paused and contemplated the starry reeling of his mind that had been slipping to the forefront of his mind since the tom had returned to the medicine den which he had stayed in since the battle against Riverclan, ”I-I am happy we… I’m happy we are okay now, I… I missed you,” eyes downcast with embarrassment as he took up the repetition once more to finish plucking the burrs form the other felines pelt.
mossfreckles reaction concerned rookfire at first, having never been particularly good at reading smaller expressions or taking in the whole picture of more unique, fragile emotions, the odd combination between what rook assumed to be shock and something fleetingly akin to sadness, he half expected the other to get mad at him. for killing the butterfly, invading his privacy or disrupting his work, rookfire wasnt sure. however, as quickly as worry had clouded his chest and snaked up to curl around his windpipe, resulting in every breath feeling like a bit more work than the last, it was gone, replaced by soft warmth, blooming deep in his chest and intermingling with the light, floaty feeling in his stomach. in this moment, mossfreckles chuckle was the single best sound to have ever found its way into rooks ears, washing away worry like waves did to loose sand on the beach.
rook granted mossfreckle silence, small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the sweet curiosity almost radiating off of the usually so serious herbalist. relief, another emotion he could detect within himself, he was glad mossfreckle liked the butterfly and didnt think rookfire was ridiculous for gifting another tom-ish cat a butterfly of all things which was definitely totally not manly from what rook knew.
the teasing tsk tsk and the herbalist moving closer made rook flush, ridiculous. why would that be the reaction to a nice cat being nice by freeing their friend from pesky burrs whilst also engaging in friendly teasing. he was sure there must be something wrong with him. not only had he recently found out he had been living the largest part of his life wrong in not one but two major ways, but now it was acting ridiculous without his consent! had this not been in response to something mossfreckle did, the enforcer mightve sought out medical advice to fix whatever was going on. oh stars maybe he had caught a fever-
but then mossfreckle was speaking again, pulling rookfire out of his thoughts with minor stuttering and more words that made rook feel something bloom in his chest. he ignored it. choosing actions over words once more, rookfire pressed the side of his face against mossfreckles in silent reciprocation.
[Fogwatcher]
ShadowClan Warrior
Flock Together [T1] | Bilingual [T1] | The Collector
The tom laid in the nest he claimed with Mossfreckle. Something hadn't been sitting right with him for a while, something felt odd within him. Something just wasn't okay. He'd felt more moody, hungrier, more... heavy? Fogwatcher would take a glance over his curled-up body but wouldn't notice any difference. Maybe Mossfreckle did? Should he ask?
The anxiety was rising in his chest as he let the thoughts dance around his head. Nervously, he'd start to lick his forepaws and his chest. Mossfreckle was busy right now, he wouldn't bother him yet.
@elio - don't need to reply if you don't want to, it's here so you can see though!
Moonkit stands there trying to explain what she saw "I saw some of it mommy was attacked by a hawk and she nearly.....passed away....." she says reddened eyes glistening "I was so scared..." she looked down at her paws
<Moonkit>
PS: Stone light is sleeping she doesn't know she is being treated
Re: ShadowClan Medicine Cat's Den
