ShadowClan Medicine Cat's Den

[elio]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡
ﾟ。 Mossfreckle (ShC)
　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ they/he ~ medicine cat

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ The High Priestess ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

❦ Mossy hues reminded fixated on the starry sky as a halfhearted rumbling purr slipped form his white twinged maw at the nervousness which tied the honeyed ginger toms tongue in knots and shuffled his large paws in tippy taps that sent lose soils skittering in whisper soft dances across the jumble of rocks and roots that comprised the entrance to the medicine den which sprawled like a lolling tounge from hits lichen shrouded mouth, ”You are quite handsome yourself, lad,” the herbalist chirped before rising on lanky legs, silken pelt rippling in the balmy summer breezes. Mossfreckle dipped into a mountainous peak as his spine extended upwards and his white tipped paws pressed resistantly into the ground as thorn like claws slipped nonchalantly to wrench hard as they snagged within the moist earth and tugged against the pressure… not a dream… part of him knew he had woken but when you mind killed you a million times one could never be too sure the line they walked between living and dying - a danse macabre - and the work of the waking, bitter reality, for once in a blue moon the medicine cat suppresses a yawn of genuine sleepiness as the haze of fatigue that so commonly blanketed him finally decided that now was the time it would carry him off to elusive slumber, ”I am heading back to if only until the sun rises more,” the oriental yawned as he uprighted himself and cast a half lidded gaze over a lightly muscled, freckled shoulder at Hillstrider, ”You are welcome to stay or go, Hilly,” he said clearly but somewhat slurred by the plague of sleep that now made him heavy and blurred his vision as he leapt half graceful and half clumsily over the rivulet that split the burrow in half before he took up his residence in front of the herb storage and snuggles up within the moss and down of his nest letting his dreamscapes consume his star hewn mind once more.

{ @Mica ~ Hillstrider }

[Daragca]

​​​​
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Warrior | 40 moons
Killer Aptitude T3 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue T2
The Dancing Bird

It was somewhat of a stumble the way Owlthroat walked into Mossfreckle’s den. Not his usual overly confident saunter, his ink splotched coat no longer adorned with white brilliance inbetween. But deep scarlet red, from head to paw. It looked quite worrisome, but of course the majority of the blood didn’t belong to him. Instead, belonging to the fox, he’d clamped down his crooked yellow teeth and torn its throat clean out.

Owlthroat, a moniker well deserved. Never one to shy away from the carnage, but the red devil had taken the two by surprise. Newtbelly had performed well in the fight and there was a smug sense of satisfaction that came with that. His very own apprentice finally putting his claws to some sort of productive endeavour. What would Tuftedtusk think, relationships were somewhat new to him. The occasional fling here or there but he was of the age now to settle down. But with that marked unfamiliar territory, would Tuftedtusk come and see him in this state? Be embarrassed by his antics, worried or perhaps seethe with pride. Only time would tell.

Strong scents clogged his nose, Owlthroat had never been a fan of the healer’s den, nothing personal just bad memories. Starclan awful putrid scents, that teased his eyes into watering. Mossfreckle must have gone noseblind spending all this time in here. Then there came the question of wasting resources, a graze or scrape he shrugged off. Left nature to do its work.

The ebbing flow of blood from his side told him different, wasn’t one he could simply leave unattended. Alongside this dying from an infection after fighting a fox would be severely disgraceful, the thought choking in his maw. He glanced behind him, anticipating Newtbelly only a few tail lengths away then cleared his throat.

”Mossfreckle?” The tom’s unadjusted eyes strained to the darker corners of the den, attempting to make out a familiar shape. His voice rung low, but masked the pain thoroughly enough. He’d be out of this place in no time.

The fox had been an easy piece of work, but it worried him how his skin split open as easy as he’d carve prey. Feeling like a god being faced with sickening mortality, and what did he have to show for it? A snivelling brother, a few decent apprentices. At his age his legacy was nowhere near what he’d like it to be, it needed to be powerful. Awe-inspiring, but most importantly his name needed to carry on through time. Owlthroat stunk of hubris, egotistical and cold to the touch.

How would he leave his mark?

[​​ @elio ]

[sleepyyjax]

Newtbelly
he/him | Agatha Kitty, Shadow Fiend | 17 moons

header: @/daragca
content: injury detail, animal death

Despite his wounds being far less severe than Owlthroat, the tom felt himself limping far harder. Never had he felt such a pain, burning its way through his shoulder and ribs like a parasite. A lie down in the medicine den would be welcomed. As they entered camp, he tossed the lone rat onto the prey pile - all he had to show for their troubles. Well, at least the fox had been banished, limp body a warning sign to future trespassers. Maybe they hadn't brought much back with them, but in looks alone their entrance was impressive, no?

Had he been alone, he'd be dead by now - he knew that. But he wouldn't let it eat him up as he limped through the clearing. He'd simply get stronger, faster, he had time. No cat expects a warrior to be a fox slayer, he reminded himself - though Owlthroat thankfully was one.

As they entered the den, various scents assaulted his nose. Believe it or not, he'd never been here before. In his 17 moons he'd escaped any sickness or injury, and he'd never wanted to enter for any other reason.

Owlthroat called out to Mossfreckle. He figured he wouldn't say anything at all for now, after all, what was there to say? One look at the two of them should be enough. Owlthroat's fur dripped scarlet, rarely was its usual pale colour visible, if at all. Newtbelly wasn't quite as affected. White paws were stained right through, blood streaked up his legs, shoulder bitten straight into (thankfully, not torn as he'd feared), and his side gashed. His first scars. He felt far too old to just only be obtaining them - despite that, he did feel a sense of pride. Sure, he didn't have Owlthroat's ferocity, the ability to tear a throat out, but he'd escaped a fox with only two injuries. That had to be impressive, right? Even if he owed it to Owlthroat.

@elio
@Daragca

[Mica]

Hillstrider
ShadowClan Warrior
he/him | 21 moons
[Big fluffy orange tabby with yellow eyes]
Purrks: Heightened Perception (Hearing)
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ The Sun ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
· · ────────────── · ·
[Mossfreckle - @elio ]
· · ────────────── · ·
Snrk--huh? Admittedly, Hillstrider had fallen asleep on Mossfreckle's shoulder and completely missed the rest of the conversation--including the bit where Mossfreckle called him handsome. The orange tom twisted to see Mossfreckle padding back into the den, an invitation still on his lips. "Woah, wait for me!" Hillstrider called quietly, stumbling to his big paws and following the medicine cat into the den where he curled his large frame around the smaller oriental's and buried his head in Mossfreckle's shoulder, falling sound asleep not long after.

[SuspiciousMindz]

[Hawkbite]
Enforcer Commander
Shadow Fiend | Agatha Kitty | Kitty Softpaws T2

Blood scent reached the entrance of the den before his pawsteps would be heard. In his jaws, swung Fishkit, bloodied and probably unconscious, but he hadn't checked. Behind him, Nightshiver would follow, his tail on her shoulder to help guide the she-cat to their destination.

Hawkbite trotted into the Medicine Cat's Den. He didn't wait for them to welcome him, he didn't care quite frankly. Setting Fishkit on the ground, Hawkbite would shift his gaze sharply on Mossfreckle. "Fishkit got out and was attacked by a fox, looks bad. Nightshiver was also hurt in the fight. I might have a couple scratches, but worry about them, I need to report this to Dawnstar," the Commander would speak, briefing the medicine cat on the situation.

Before he'd leave, he'd pause, glancing over Nightshiver and Fishkit. His little family had been hurt, damage, almost taken from him. "Do you need anything else from me while I'm here?" He'd confirm Mossfreckle would be okay before he'd exit to see Dawnstar. He'd stay if the other needed assistance.

@Spider. - Fishkit | @Estelle - Nightshiver | @elio - Mossfreckle

[Spider.]

@elio @Estelle @SuspiciousMindz

fishkit was brought in bleeding badly the cut from the fox that ran down from her eye curving to under her gut then out again just slightly above her thigh, a small whimper escaped her copper colored maw as she was placed on the cold ground of the medicine cat den,cold she was so cold a shiver ran through her body causing more pain ripple through her heaving body.

[elio]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡
ﾟ。 Mossfreckle (ShC)
　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ they/he ~ medicine cat

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ The High Priestess ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

❦ Mossfreckle gave the little one a lick between her contrastingly colour pointed ears before she bounded off to greedily lap up the cold water which trickled and babbled in a meandering rivulet which started as a rumbling cascade from the cracking rocks of the burrow walls which looped between knotted roots and hard packed earth which held up the weight of the ancient cedar canopied above, ”See, all better little one,” the medicine cat purred before his gaze shifted to take Rookfife into the foresight of his vision rather than the blurred peripherals as he nodded along to the darker toms recounted the events which had passed in such an order that lead them to this current predicament, ”We may need to reemphasise not eating Deathberries even though they were outsiders…” a trailing off contemplation as his eyes darted to check the kit position besides the stream remained on the bank and not within the slight rippling current of flowing water. As Rookfire detached from the conversation to complete her task Mossfreckle’s eyes wondered around the sun dappled den before settling a watchful eye on the little kit whom continued her current task unknowing of the carefully contemplative gaze that rested on her vividly russet tiny frame… how old was she… a few moons, no more.

❦ A flicker of white fur blinked in and out of the herbalist’s peripherals which soon become shadowed then sun gilded as the enforcer slipped back into the den on the fluffy forever queens soothing presence, gentle as ever her focus was on Yewkit from the beginning as she let simple introductions and questions slip out in shivered tones so akin to her suffix, he had always wondered if she had gotten the slight stutter before or after she was given her full name… focus… a snappy voice in his mind called as his large ears swivelled back to take on a question directed to him… How...i-is..she?… settled on the sensitive hairs within their canals, angular head turned to meet oceanic and sunny hued heterochromatic eyes, ”Yewkit is okay physically, she had scraped up paws but they’ve been wrapped and it doesn’t seem that they bothered her much in the first place so it was more a precaution. She is most likely dehydrated,” eyes dart to the kit as she drank from the stream, ”she is also reasonably hungry - I would recommend milk for a while before you move her to prey although if no queens can take on another kit to nurse she seems past it being a necessity and can start with smaller prey. As for mentally, I am not too sure how affected she is by her parents death at the moment - she may not have fully realised it yet - but if need be you or I can talk it out with her,” that taken care of her turned to Yewkit and called to the little one on gentle and almost cooing tones, ”off you go little one, Nightshiver is going to take care of you now. Be as good for her as you were for me.”

{ @alec ~ Rookfire } { @TheNyanCatMinecart ~ Yewkit } { @Estelle ~ Nightshiver }

[ apologies if this is a mess, I started it then came back so I’m unsure of if it will be cohesive or not }

❀⊱ - - - ♡ - - - ♡ - - - ♡ - - - ♡ - - - ⊰❀

❦ Mossfreckle… his name feel on the sensitive hairs within the canals of his large ears alongside the bittersweet and metallic scent of blood that clung cloyed within his senses and sent his body into an alert trance more akin to enthralling loll of a battle rather than panic, something he was so used to seeing it didn’t really phase him anymore past the initial surge of adrenaline when flooded his veins and set a fire of urgency beneath his paws, ”Tell me how this happened,” he ordered in lilting tones empty of annoyance or judgement, a simple question to gauge the predicaments cause as he gathered up ruffled hesperidium coloured flowers and silken threads, his petite paws tapping against a vermillion bud to show black seeds from their bluish black cage and snagging silver adorned verdant moss on his way away from the cracked an creviced rock which held the over abundance of the herb stockade. Leaping over the rivulet which separated his personal quarters and the herb supply form the general public and denstay nest the lanky medicine cat landed with softly thudding paw falls which echoed rhythmic and whisper soft through the burrowed den, even gait carried Mossfreckle to the two toms which looked more vividly russet than their own pale pelts would ever allow them to be, ”Take these please, it’s for the pain,” he instructed as he pushed two black seeds in each respective direction before turning his attention soley to the most wounded of the two for the moment being.

❀⊱ { Owlthroat ~ - 0.2 Poppy // - 1 moss // - 2 cobwebs // - 1 marigold } ⊰❀

❦ White twinged maw moved in gentle bobs as the healer washed crimson away until now pristine white pelt shown the true source of the blood which was much to the relief of the medicine cat very much not his own, ”I am assuming whatever caused this won’t be causing anything anymore considering the blood but both of you need to report to Dawnstar if you haven’t already,” he half complimented and half ordered as he busied a diligent paw with the marigold paste he had spat out just before the calm tones had slipped from his maw. With practice ease Mossfreckle scanned over the black splotched feline and dabbed the golden paste gingerly onto each wound which peppered his body, paying extra attention to the larger wounds which shone starkly on his flank, ribs, and hind leg against his now snowy pelt. Once each wound had been taken care of silken threads wrapped tightly over them to keep the dirt and grim from reentering the bites and gashes that had broken the toms soft flesh, ”You are free to leave now, please come back if anything starts to hurt again or the bandages get dirty or tattered,” a brief exchange before his focus fell on the second tom and white tipped paws reorganised the herbs before him to tend to Newtbelly who had fallen victim to the same deadly beast which had caused the whole ordeal.

❀⊱ { Newtbelly ~ - 0.2 Poppy // - 1 moss // - 1 cobweb // - 1 marigold } ⊰❀

❦ A repetitive absentminded charge that was far more soothing than monotonous ensued, the same steps just different wounds as the oriental snagged another damp moss ball and washed away the blood so that the wounds looked less ominous and more realistic… blood lied… only the wounds told the true story written in scars across pelts born unscathed and returned to the earth peppered in memories one remembered only in the darkest hours of the night, alone and full of the fear and pride that could only come from the act of killing or maiming or playing at a god that never truly existed outside of one’s own grandiose view of their own fragile existence. Marigold paste was blotted on the now visible wounds as comfortable silence lapsed between the two felines as one sat still and the other did his Starclan given task, ”Your shoulder seemed to be giving you a hassle when you came in, quite the limp,” the medic mused as he began to bind the wounds with cobweb, ”See how those two poppy seeds work for now but if it continues to impair your ability to walk come back and I’ll give you another, for now you too are free to leave but you are also welcome to stay in here and see how you feels on a few in a few hours,” the brown and tan bicoloured tom was well enough if he chose to leave but since no cat was currently taking up a nest within his den besides himself on his own downy and moss nest in front of the herb storage he had no qualms against offering one to Newtbelly if he decided it was better he stay and access rather than coming back when it began to hurt again, he could always leave once he decided it wasn’t going to be an issue now that it was taken care of.

{ @Daragca ~ Owlthroat } { @sleepyyjax ~ Newtbelly }

❀⊱ - - - ♡ - - - ♡ - - - ♡ - - - ♡ - - - ⊰❀

❀⊱ { - 1 moss // - 1 marigold // - 1 oak leave // - 3 cobwebs } ⊰❀

❦ The heady scent of blood hit the medicine cats freckled nose before pawsteps could even be heard and his pelt rippled with anxiety that prickled his flesh and puffed up his silky fur, there was something utterly ominous about the looming bittersweet, metallic tang that wafted in the air and clung to his tongue and made his throat feel sticky, he wasn’t one to be squeamish or panic at whatever he saw but his reaction could was far more akin to panic then he ever really got - a piqued, adrenaline fuelled sense of being but fear nonetheless - something was so fundamentally wrong with the crimson hazed scene of the enforcer commander slipping through verdant and muddy orange lichen which stained was red by the limp form that was held gently between his canines. Mossy hues flared momentarily in minute realisation as he met the chocolate tabby in a few fast paced strides, he had snagged herbs half moving half stalled on his way over, it was second nature and he simply grabbed without looking and made his way to the bloodied and torn kit which now damped the hard packed soils with her very own essence of life. Mossfreckle’s attention was split, unevenly as he kept his ears flicked in Hawkbite’s direction only as he began to brief him in all that had gone down, only the necessities which the oriental was thankful for because quite frankly he didn’t care and he knew the enforcer knew that, he didn’t care for unneeded storytelling recountments when he was trying to do his job, playing the role of a false god as he held lives in his paws, he was more so Sisyphus damned to eternity to suffer but loving the monotonous honing of a skill that now become commonplace within his actions, his lanky body moving without thought as a mask of medical detachment snapped down and he took a step inside himself allowing knowledge over feeling to take over.

❦ ”Go report to Dawnstar, I have this handled,” the healer said plainly not averting his gaze to take the large tom in his peripheral into his foresight as he busied himself with soft silver gilded verdant moss which moved in ginger strokes over the multicoloured kits small body, for once the blood didn’t lie and for once the tom couldn’t held but wince at the severity of the wound as the corners of his maw turned down into a grimace before he caught himself and returned to neutrality, Fishkit shouldn’t be alive… she was barely alive… a deadly danse macabre as she teetered closer and closer to falling off the edge, she looked far more like a mauled piece of prey than her usual small and bouncing presence. There wasn’t much that Mossfreckle could do beyond basic first aid and send a silent prayer up to Starclan, on a warrior this wound would be a minor ailment but for a kit it was far more fatal, that wasn’t to say she wouldn’t live but she had just earned herself a one way ticket to a long stay in the medicine den and nasty scar which would severe as a permanent reminder of the importance of following the rules which unlike most things, existed for a reason.

❦ Part of him was happy the kit was blacked out, lolled to a bitter pain induced slumber but he really wished that she wasn’t as her current state proved just how much blood of the small amount she had that had been lost - not to the fault of anyone involved that was, just another cold reality - but at least he didn’t have to try to get the little feline to stomach poppy seeds… at least he didn’t have to listen to her scream. White tipped paws already stained crimson become gilded as they dapped into golden marigold paste that was peppered with crushed oak leaves for the bleeding and began to blot with extra care onto the large, jagged gash which slit the molly into two… almost literally… before he bound her up in silken threads, once again wincing as the reality bit into his starry mind more as mossy hues took on a kit that no longer looked like mauled prey and now was far more comparable to a cobweb ball due to the sheer about of bandaging he had had to do to cover the whole wound. Finished with Fishkit, Mossfreckle picked her up and carried her to a nest, his gait was so very slow as each pawstep was taken with over thought out movements, each pawfall achingly slow and steady as to not jostle her as he reached a downy nest and laid her in as best as he could in a manner that wouldn’t disturb the freshly bandaged wound before he allowed himself to fully acknowledge the battered forever queen who was quite bloody himself and he could only hope that most of it wasn’t her own but from the look of her torn face he doubted that would be the case in this ordeal either.

{ @SuspiciousMindz ~ Hawkbite }

{ @Spider. ~ Fishkit }
[ Fishkit will need to stay in the medicine cats den for a minimum of about one in real life month which would be 16/ 11/ 2024 but rapid recovery could be bought to shorten this time. Furthermore, since a mot would not completely heal the wound she will need to take it easy and be mindful of the wound but can begin training and what not. o7 ]

{ @/Estelle ~ Nightshiver }
[ no rush on posting lovely ]

[Daragca]

​​​​
Owlthroat
he/him | Shadowclan Warrior | 40 moons
Killer Aptitude T3 - Just A Scratch - Silver Tongue T2
The Dancing Bird

Owlthroat cracked the black seeds between his teeth and gulped down the bitter taste. Mossfreckle’s pragmatism and matter of factness appealed to him greatly. There was something deeply refreshing about it, no beating around the bush. Instead straight to the point. He payed acute attention to his work and it was admirable, reminding him something of himself. But whereas Mossfreckle healed, Owlthroat carved. Destroyed.

”A fox at Mourning Ruins”, the tom gruffly nodded. ”You assume right, won’t be causing much trouble anymore.” Bleeding had stopped, healing would take a while. He’d just have to go easy, make sure he didn’t tear open the healer’s pristine work, that he was capable of. A few weeks lounging around, he secretly hoped he didn’t miss out on much. Thankful that he didn’t have to stay, Owlthroat wasn’t sure how much more of the repugnant herbalistic scents he could handle.

Even his pelt looked cleaner now, the brilliant white underneath shining clearer. Not that it wasn’t still twinged delicately by crimson, he’d clean the rest later. Share tongues with Tuftedtusk and tell him about his escapades over a chuckle. Grooming was important to him, ritualistic. Owlthroat liked to look his best, long fur meant a lot of keeping on top of. His yellow gaze flitted over Newtbelly, he hadn’t noticed his limp, too focused inwardly. Mossfreckle knew what they were doing, he’d be right in no time. But he was proud of him, a real seething pride that swallowed him whole. Newtbelly had stood by his side fiercely, flung himself against the red devil with real courage. A fine warrior he was beginning to finally be.

”Thank you”, Owlthroat rasped, nodding his head towards Mossfreckle. Before swivelling it entirely to his former apprentice, a smile played at the corners of his blackened lips. ”Rest up ey, you fought well.” That was about as much praise as he could wrangle from his maw but he was sure Newtbelly would take it admirably. ”I’ll go report it”, there was a time as a youngster their leader scared him. But that never seemed to be the case anymore, as he’d grown somewhat older and more battle hardened himself it morphed into something more akin to respect. The tom wasn’t particularly fond of all her decisions but she hadn’t ruined the clan. Something he’d seen happen time and time again with others, Riverclan had simply fallen away.

Owlthroat’s jagged claws itched in the dirt below, turning somewhat stiffly to make his exit. Hoping for a breath of deliciously fresh air. Tail flickering surprisingly cheerily, for the tom knew how to make his mark. Leave his legacy so to speak, his mind had been discreetly whirring away. What better way to do so than sweet little menaces, baby Owlthroats.

Dear world, look out!

[​​ @elio @sleepyyjax ]