Lostspark peered down at Squirrelpaw with increasing worry as the minutes ticked by. She knew what this was; frostbite. And if what Squirrelpaw said was right. . . The Medicine Cat sighed heavily as she sat down beside the young feline and gently cradled the tawny-furred she-cat's front paw. "I'm not sure... if your paw will ever be the same it once was." The Medicine Cat said carefully. "If you had come to me earlier, I could have perhaps done something. But for now, find a nest in the warmest corner of this den and stay there. Keep your paw warm, let it rest. There's not much more I can do for you."
Glancing up from her supply of herbs at the tangible, heavy scent of blood in the air, Lostspark turned fully toward the med-den entrance as her mother walked through. For a brief moment, Lostspark faltered in place, gaze flitting over Dawnstar to check the Shadow Queen for injury, for the source of that overwhelming scent of blood. Only when Hawkbite was placed in an empty nest did Lostspark's tense muscles relax marginally. Ah, that explained what Lostspark had been searching for.
Swiping a couple herbs in advance from the pile at her paws, the Medicine Cat made her way over to Hawkbite's side, cleaning out his wounds and listening in silence to Dawnstar's explanation. Her ears flicked in surprise as Dawnstar mentioned Shadefrost's... death. Oh. Lostspark hadn't expected that at all. The tom had been infuriatingly annoying, but she could not deny that no matter how many times she'd verbally or mentally thought of Shadefrost's death, the actuality of it was a blow.
"Hawkbite should be fine." She said finally, after having patched the Enforcer Commander's throat wounds with infection-repellent marigold and cobwebs. She brought a paw to the limp tom's head, feeling for anything that might give away that he'd gotten a concussion. But there was no bump, no swelling, so she figured he was just unconscious. "Well, he'll live. Will probably sleep for a few days, and even if he doesn't, I'm confining him to this den until his wounds seal over." The Medic inclined her head and stepped back, turning to her mother. "Thank you for bringing him in."
[ :buh: smokekit sob - side note for later kat = you skipped over smoke because poppy said wait for ticket to be answered ): LET ME REPLY TO MY SON he's already dying u can't eat him poppy ]
The poisonous flower had come face to face with a formidable foe. A rather impressive creation, probably crafted by the king of hell himself. Sent by the devil, even better at silencing obnoxious children than she was. Standing in the den, her scent still unrecognizable from rolling in sickly sweet flowers with the intention to kill someone in this very camp, she slipped into the medicine den, staring at the dead kit.
Good. There had been far too many of the DarkLost spawn anyways. About damn time one of them died. Especially due to neglect, there were too many to be watched anyways. Eyes taking on a rather dark, shadowed veil, she slunk forward to tower above the young tomkit. She could use whatever he ate, it would be fun to poison the fresh kill pile and watch all these fools die.
Except for the cute ones, they could live.
She didn’t even notice her fangs in the smaller cat’s shoulder until they were embedded in it, the taste of blood filling her mouth and bringing a strange sense of sanity to her, as weird and backwards as it was. She felt grounded. Taking another bite of the young cat, she felt the disgustingly amazing feeling sink to her core before looking down at the now bleeding body.
Jerking away from the kit, blooding dripping from her mouth, she grabbed a clump of moss, picking out a white tuft of fur before wiping her mouth and cleaning herself off, dropping it to the ground. Finally nabbing the fur tuft, she wiping the toms blood on it before flinging it to the ground. Might as well mess with things some more.
”’M sorry, love. I wish I could control it, but I cannot. Plus, you’re dead already… or close enough, so might as well… silence the demons for the moment. Have a nice slumber, your mum will be here in a jiffy.” She mumbled, the veil lifting to reveal the horror she had committed again.
Stepping away, she made sure only her masked scent lingered, and nothing could link her to this, then she turned and peeked out of the den. Spotting no one, she slipped out casually went on her way- out of camp to mask the scent of her fake smell. Double masking.
It was over for the kit, but it had been too late for her for moons.
He was dead now, but she had been dead for ages.
( under their noses purrk active hehe ty for waiting kat ily u can see ur son now @BEAR. @Rose )
Fogwatcher had heard they needed help. However, he wasn't quite sure where he heard it, perhaps the recent patrols that went out? No no no. . . he was just nosy and listened to everything around camp.
Probably that.
Likely that.
He didn't earn the 'watcher' suffix for no obvious reason. The tom was always listening and watching. He caught on to more than he should sometimes.
He padded to the entrance of the den. The dim lighting took a moment to adjust to, but his blue eyes managed. A few blinks and he was staring in awe at the neatly organized area. The scent of herbs was strong, and he was strangely drawn to it. Fogwatcher almost got too caught up in sniffing the air that he was distracted from his goal.
Nose still twitching, he cleared his throat, "Mossfreckle?"
Unbeknownst to him, it'd probably been a day or two since his incident.
Stars, it took some time, but Hawkbite finally came to. He wasn't sure exactly how long he'd been out. Damn, his head hurt. It hurt so much! His paw raised to rub the side of his face as his green eyes blinked a few times to figure out where he was. The sudden movement made him aware of the pain in his neck.
Slowly, the memories came back to him. Flashes of the fight made his head hurt worse. He wasn't even aware of Shadefrost's outcome, he'd been unconscious by the time that even occurred. The last thing to come back to him was the searing pain of Spiderthroat's teeth on his neck.
Hawkbite's eyes widened, his paw falling to the nest slowly as his eyes darted around the den. Shadefrost wasn't here, that must've meant he got away. He let out a small parched cough, turning to look for Lostspark now. "Lostspark?!" He choked on his dry tongue and throat. It came out more of a rasp than his actual voice. He winced but continued to search for the medicine cat.
｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡
ﾟ。 Mossfreckle (ShC)
ﾟ･｡･ﾟ they/he ~ medicine cat apprentice
White tipped paws had compulsively shuffled the stock of herbs far back in the depths of the medicine dens belly, the piles were already meticulously neat - nothing out of place - due to Lostspark’s carful paws and Mossfreckle’s own reeling starry mind, maybe it was the lingering prickles of anxiety or his tattered, crimson rivered heart that seemed to always be locked in a losing battle with the claws of insecurity but that was neither here nor there, he simply sat most nonbustling days for hours on end sorting and resorting the herb stockade… better to be prepared than not. Freckled form finally retreated a few steps away from his tedious repetitive task, mossy hues flitted from herb to herb, each plant a recitation in his starry mind to simply remind himself that he knew what they all did… that he knew how to help Shadowclan, that he was not as useless as he had been only a moon ago… in a silent assessment of their herb supply. Patrols would be coming back soon but the corners of Mossfreckle’s white muzzle turned down when mossy hues settled their gaze on the pile of yarrow and oak leaves, if he was being honest it was more the lack of pile that caught his attention: two oak leaves and one yarrow… and yarrow was not really an herb of leafbare but maybe - just maybe - he could salvage some dried plants from earlier that season, with new leaf drawing ever near and the frost beginning to thaw maybe some would have been preserved without rotting.
Mossfreckle’s starry mind was reeling but along with its usual fog it felt hazy, the confines of his mind felt cloudy and sluggish, angular head shook to try to rid and clear his mind but in that moment the haze remained… it seemed that many a sleepless night was taking its toll on him… insomnia was a lovely and happily excepted excess, it was not a straight up lie but he knew that part of his sleepless nights was his fault as he had a tendency to lose track of time simply staring at the three lined up stars he swore had shown up when his kin had died want felt like millions of moons again… but then again maybe he just had not ever looked that hard until that lost moment he had begged the stars to speak to him. With a yawn the freckled oriental shaped herbalist padded on soft white paws to his mossy nest - only a little begrudgingly - and flopped their lanky form into its midst, white tipped tail curled around his nestled form as Mossfreckle allowed the reelings of starry mind to take over and the exhaustion of sleep deprivation to ease his restless mind to half-conscious state in which he found himself peering over the edge of his cliffs mind… latter, latter, latter, latter… he would deal with that all later.
Seconds, minutes, or hours later, Mossfreckle was not sure when but oriental shaped ears perked as the small hairs prickled with the sound of his name being called from the mouth of the medicine den. Freckled oriental shaped form rose and dipped up into a mountain shape as his white tipped paws pressed resistantly against the cold stone of cave, uprighting himself into a standing position the lanky medicine cat apprentice padded towards the voice of the feline who had called to him, all the while freckled nose twitched to take in the new cats scents… he seemed fine, there was no metallic tang of blood or stench of illness, but then again, not all wounds were physical. Mossy hues blinked against the midday light finally focusing and settling their gaze on the pretty sliver and white tom that stood - seemingly enthralled in the medicine dens existence - at the mouth of the medicine cat’s den. Calm tones slipped from Mossfreckle’s maw after he had flicked his gaze once over the tom to assess any visible wounds his nose may have missed… and maybe a little more… “Can I help you with anything… Fogwatcher?” the apprentice asked with curt but gentle tones hoping with all his heart that he had not just called the feline by a name that was not his own, the feline was here for a reason and there really was not much use in drawing up some elaborate speech that would warrant the same answer to the same question.
She had seen him go in and never about thought it. She pay it any mind, but Lostspark had left and so had Mossfreckle. So why had he not left...where was he older brother. Howlingkit normally hated her siblings but this one was never up to no good. He was loud and bratty so him being quiet was just as dangerous. The shekit stands up, her eyesight had returned a few sunghighs before paw and she had no idea why or even how. Maybe her mother's trick had worn off. Her lie had failed to be permanent. Tail lashing to the left as she weaves her way through the camp, eyes locked onto the med den. The edges still a tiny bit fuzzy as she entered and her eyes adjusted.
Then she saw him. His dead corpse, blood dripping from wounds on his body. Bite marks. Those were bite marks in his flesh. She freezes the second she notices, eyes now locked onto his wounds. No. No. No. No. Why wasn't he moving, why wasn't her being loud. A shudder runs through her spine, paws forcing her forwards. A whisper towards her brother. "Smokekit.....?" Howlingkit looks through the den then back to him. His distinctive markings, some she had never noticed before, now motionless.
Grey kitten stepping even closer, close enough that she saw his shoulder flesh. Torn and bleeding whatever blood was left circulating through him. All Howlingkit can do is cover her mouth with her paw as a look of terror fills her face. A shaken exhale escapes her maw as she places her paw back onto the ground. Muzzle reaching towards his face as her tongue rakes through his face fur. A desperate action to wake him from his forever slumber. "Get up. please get up." Another plea as the grey shekit pulls him closer, body thinking before her brain. She now lays defensively over his body. She had a job to do now.
Find and rip apart whoever entered this god damn den and ate her brother.
hunting kat and dark in leafí’s basement
“I would've died for your sins
Instead, I just died inside
And you deserve prison, but you won't get time”
--
✰ [ stag’s carrd ]✰
kat sneaks away from aries... and runs into carmen
Her sister had gone into the medicine den, and immediately Mirekit thought about sneaking up and giving her a little scare. A little boo! Maw curled into a smile the young kitten did her best attempt at a crouch (which wasn't terrible, but also wasn't anywhere near correct) as she hurried after Howls. Were they suppose to be in Mama's den without her around? She didn't know - but she could ask later! Right now she was gonna scare her sister so good! Sneaking in behind her into the den, the little kit took a coupe more paw steps, got ready, aaaand...
"GOTCHAohhhhuhhh...."
The words sputtered into silence as an awful smell hit her nose. It was similar to the smell she'd been met with when she'd hugged Mama's leg in the clearing. Mirekit wrinkled her nose as she padded closer to Howls, who was crouched over something. As she got closer, the smell grew worse. "Howls, what is that?" she squeaks, trying to see what she was standing - oh. Tufts of dark gray fur, the smallest sliver of recognizable tail.
Suddenly Mire didn't feel so good and she wobbled a bit, eventually coming to crumble right beside her sissy. "...I don't feel so good, Howls," she mumbled, her head feeling wobbly like her paws had a minute ago as she stared at whatever was underneath Howls.
[ @Demeter hi i need more mire posts and unfortunately this one took interest so surprise!! sister sneak attack gone wrong! ((not clickbait!!!)) ]
[Fogwatcher]
ShadowClan Warrior
Flock Together [T1] | Bilingual [T1] | The Collector
The scents were delightful, his nose couldn't stop twitching even when the medicine cat apprentice approached. For a moment, Fogwatcher stood before him, nose twitching like a rabbit. It only paused when he processed the darling feline to walk towards him. He hadn't actually encountered the tom up close before. Oh wow! The grey feline was speechless for a moment as he stared in awe. Even in the dimly lit den, he could admire the pretty pattern and glowing eyes.
He swallowed, hard, feeling his ears heat up. Why though? He'd never been this bothered by another feline before. Bothered? Was that correct word for this feeling? Fogwatcher wasn't too sure, but it was the word he was going to use for now. Perhaps a better one would come to him once he was settled more. The grey and white tom blinked his blue eyes a couple times before clearing his throat, again.
"Oh, I uh- uh"Why won't the words come to me?! He stamped on his paws a couple times. Maybe that would rattle his fogged brain! "I was coming to see if you needed any help with anything!"Yes, finally! Rattling that brain did help! Gosh, he probably looked like a fool right now. Thankfully, he wasn't in front of anyone but Mossfreckle. That was okay. The apprentice was allowed to see him flabbergasted for now. It wouldn't happen again! Right? Right. . . Most likely.
"Yeah, that's all. I wanted to see if you needed something or if I could go get herbs for you. Anything of the sort! I'm not doing anything, so here I am!"
Cinderkit
~<>~
4 moons || she/her || ShadowClan Kit small black tabby with minimal white markings; amber eyes
Her foot hurts, it hurts a lot, but she'd stopped crying some time ago now, clutching the pinecone and clover she'd collected like her life depends on them - as far as she knows, it does. She was supposed to be safe, how could something have hurt her out in the territory? Something out there deliberately went against the warrior code just to hurt her. Was everything out there the same way? Were there things that could do that? Cinderpaw doesn't see how that's possible.
Regardless, she's brought into the medicine den by Mossy, momma's apprentice, and placed gently into a nest. She doesn't speak, her breath coming out in hiccoughing gasps, too worn out from sobbing to do much else and no more tears left to shed. Even if she wanted to, Cinderkit isn't sure she could speak right now, she'd just been put through a stressful event and it feels as though her brain isn't working. Silently, the small tabby curls around her trinkets, trying not to move her foot, as she waits for Mossy to make her feel better or for momma to come back.
｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡
ﾟ。 Mossfreckle (ShC)
ﾟ･｡･ﾟ they/he ~ medicine cat apprentice
❀⊱ { Lost power play perms granted by Kat } ⊰❀
Oriental shaped ears perked as Silverlark called out to the medicine cat’s apprentice, the silvery feline was as chipper as ever but the news he brought was not simply of a successful patrol and the bundle of herbs he set at the freckled apprentices white tipped paws - along with those herbs came a fluffy black kit, one of Lostspark’s thirteen. Freckled pink and mauve nose twitched as it took on the scene along with his concerned mossy coloured hues… blood… the distinctive tangy, metallic, sickly sweet smell of crimson life settled heady in his nostrils and sent his starry mind reeling, he was once again a whiskers length away from the cliff edge that lead to oblivion. Mossfreckle’s medical gaze flicked over the returning patrol… he knew it was Cinderkit’s fear and blood lingering in his senses but he wanted to scour over the lot of Silverlark’s patrol just in case someone was hiding third own injuries, but alas the little kit was the only one injured and by the strong heady scent that was consuming the herbalist’s senses they knew the injury was something much worse than Dawnstar’s mink wounds that he had treated only a half a moon of so earlier. With a curt nod of thanks and a short, ”Thank you for finding this little one and bringing them back,” the freckled oriental shaped feline gently bobbed his angular head down to grab the wounded bundle by her scruff with a soft white muzzle. As fast as his diligent white paws could pad without jostling Cinderkit and aggregating her already weeping wound, all the medicine cat could smell was blood and it consumed his senses, starry mind was in overdrive and the anxiety that had prickling his pelt was washed away by necessity… focus, focus, focus, focus… the incantation in his mind that ripped his starry mind apart and made him whole again as he settled into a hyper-focused state of a feline with a life or death task.
White tipped paws carried Mossfreckle through the mouth of the medicine cat’s den and into the nest filled alcove in its throat, gentle white muzzle placed the tiny bundle into the fluffiest and coziest looking one before he proceed to dip his angular head to get a better view of Cinderkit, all the while his freckled nose twitches in search of any unseen wounds. Soft coos slip from his maw as he works, soothing hums and tones settling sweetly into the traumatised kits ears - she had long sense stopped wailing and now laid, in shock, curled around her trinkets as if her life depends on them - the “herbs” only a relic of the escapade that probably seemed to be moons away by now in her tiny frightened mind. The kits “bitten” leg looked horrible and mangled… he was not even too sure that a full grown warrior was much match for a fox trap, hell they could not take on foxes alone without a death wish in the end… but a kit, stars, she had never had a chance when the metal jaws slammed down on her small leg - in all honesty he was not even too sure how Silverlark and his patrolmates had gotten the leg out (partially) whole. Oriental shaped head bobbed to lick the small black fluff ball, ”I will be back soon little flame, you have been so, so brave. When I come back I will bring something for the pain and your mumma,okay?” his question was rhetorical and he was already padding into the med dens belly by the time his last word trailed off in a fading echo… stars, oh Starclan help me… a silent prayer sent up into the sky to guide his paws as he took on a task neither his lithe grey mentor nor himself knew.
Mossy hues blinked - quick, quick, quick - pupils widening against the harsh darkness of the depths of his shared den, eyes adjusted at last, the herbalist’s gaze flicked quickly to Lostspark to gain her attention before busying himself with a poppy flower while he talked, ”Lostspark…, he started, ”one of the returning patrols - Silverlark’s lot - found Cinderkit and brought her to me, she had an accident and I wish I could say that she was okay but she was caught by a fox trap and well… I do not think her leg will be salvageable and it would be a waste of herbs to try when I know that all it would do would prolong her pain…” Bile rose in his throat as he spoke, no one wants to tell a mother that their kit was hurt… no one wanted to tell a mother that there was nothing but a drastic solution to solve the pains of their child, to tell them they had to experiment for the first time on their own kin - but here he was, that very situation, and he cares too much about Shadowclan, about Lostspark, to selfishly claim to have an easier solution.
Carful white paws finally worked a singular tiny black seed from the dried flower, scooping it up with his pink tongue and focusing hard on not swallowing the poppy seed - white tipped feathery tail flicked and Lostspark followed her apprentice to the nest where he had laid Cinderkit. With cautious ease the freckled oriental shaped feline placed the poppy seed on the stone and picked it up with his paw and offered it to the tiny black kit, ”Open up little flame, it will make you feel better and it does not taste bad,” the medic said with a soothing but professional purr, [B]”and here is your mumma, we are going to take care of you. It is going to be a big change but can you be brave for me?” this time his words carried a weight, he wanted to soothe the kit but she deserved to know. A moment later, mossy hues flicked to Lostspark’s milky amber gaze and he awaited her instructions, they were in this together and they would acquire this knowledge - or stars help them, the failure - as a team.
The Saltmeadow Marsh patrol had been swift enough. Chipmunkpaw and Rufflepaw had been no trouble - if only she could say for her onslaught of children. The thirteen were everywhere - and nowhere - at once. Lostspark was certain some of them had disappeared, gone with the wind. Her heart panged with loss, a bitter reminder that even trying her hardest was never enough. They had been bound to hate her, Lostspark supposed. It was only by fluke that Moonkit and Birdkit seemed to love her so, and maybe even that wouldn't last.
Lostspark had worked so hard to find a life for herself here in ShadowClan, to give everything she had, but all this life had done was... take. It took, and took, and didn't pause even a moment to let her grapple with her new reality before trudging on. What hurt more was that everyone who called themselves her closest family didn't reach out, didn't care enough to ask, and instead distanced themselves. They took from her. Took her love, her dedication, her devotion, and twisted it to their own means.
Twisted it so much and threw it back in her face in a way that Lostspark herself could not recognize her own feelings anymore.
But that was at an end now. She had a path to pave, a future to look toward. She'd cut the ties she had to Darkfall, and while it pained her greatly, there had been no other option. Lostspark had loved him for so long. Had held out hope for him, a candle in the dark. He'd flirted with her shamelessly through their apprenticehood, to the point that Lostspark had let her get attached, and then he'd ditched her after they'd gotten their warrior names. She didn't blame him for going after his missing apprentice - hell, she even understood - but then he brought back those four kits. And while Lostspark had not said anything, had offered to care for them as if they were her own, she had known heartbreak for the second time in a short span of moons.
Prince had been lost to her, and Darkfall too.
It was ironic, that the so-called 'Queen of Mean' was the cat who'd equally given back everything Lostspark had given to ShadowClan. Dawnstar, Lostspark was realizing, was the sole feline in this Clan who had treated her fairly, who had given her chance upon chance even as she'd floundered and nearly drowned in mistakes of her own doing.
And realizing that, was why Lostspark knew what she'd be doing in a couple days. Knew where she'd be heading - to Wolverine, to the Starcave, to a new beginning.
It was well past the time she rose from the ashes of her undoings and spread her wings again.
It was with grim determination Lostspark stepped foot into her den, but somehow her hackles were already raised, her fur prickling with unease, her heavily-buried motherly instinct knowing something was wrong. She didn't know the scent that graced her den's entrance. Or, at least, Smokekit and Howlingkit and Mirekit's she could pick out, yes, but the one of flowers? A cloying scent that threatened to choke her? This one, Lostspark did not recognize, and as the scarred molly prowled into the den, it was the sight she stood witness to that she could not comprehend.
Glazed-over amber hues raked over the three figures in her den - but one was at a very wrong angle. Distantly, it pinged within her mind that she knew that fur, knew that body, knew that kit who was lying limp and covered in bite marks, but Lostspark stood frozen, rooted to the spot.
A keening wail tore through the silence of the dark den, full of grief and anguish and misery, and it took a moment for Lostspark to realize - the sound was coming from her. It had torn itself from her throat unbidden, because a part of her knew he was gone. Gone, gone, gone. Smokekit was dead, and there was nothing she could do about it. Howlingkit and Mirekit were huddled around their brother's body, and while all Lostspark wished to do was hug them and never let go ... she wasn't sure if she was welcome to the sentiment of loving her own children anymore. Lostspark had been pushed away at every turn, and now all she knew was how to widen the distance.
It was nearly an unconcious decision that she made when she slumped to the ground right in the den entrance, a hazard for anyone who tried to walk in an tripped over her body, but a warning all the same. Lostspark did not wish for anyone else to walk into the den, and while all she wanted was to curl up around Smokekit's body and weep into his fur until her tears ran dry, she would not push Howlingkit's boundries like this. Her daughter had made her hate for her clear, and now all Lostspark felt was a bone-deep wariness, amber eyes dimming with defeat, gaze fixed on the limp body of her son.
Gone.
Her eldest son, gone, again. Sorrelkit, then Daykit, and now Smokekit. She'd not hear his happy voice again, would not see him in camp, would not witness his apprenticeship, and then warriorhood. Her son had been stolen right out from under her - just as Sorrelkit and Daykit before him.
The question was if by the end of this, Lostspark would survive all her losses. It felt more that she'd been named Lostspark for all the losses she'd experience during these days. Another reason for her to get rid of this name, this burden, this cloak of misery.
Re: ShadowClan Medicine Cat's Den
Mossfreckle is Shadowclan’s Medicine Cat Apprentice 
