curiosity beneath the roots [p]

[iliri]

Kestrelkit
medium-furred, gray-and-orange calico molly with heterochromatic green-and-blue eyes
purrks: n/a
she/her | thc kit | 1 moon

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The cold air nipped at Kestrelkit’s calico fur as she padded hesitantly across the clearing, her small paws sinking into the layer of snow that blanketed the camp. The winter chill was sharp, and her breath puffed visibly in front of her like little clouds. Most kits her age would have been tucked away in the nursery, pressed close to their mother’s side or playfully batting at their siblings’ tails to keep warm. But Kestrelkit’s mind was buzzing furiously with curiosity, pulling her away from the cozy confines of the den and toward something far more intriguing—the medicine cat, Wolfhawk. He was quite young, and that was what drew her curiosity the most, perhaps. The event he held earlier was still vivid in her mind. His sharp green eyes, his confident voice as he spoke about the dangers of poisons—it had all left her with a mix of awe and questions she couldn’t shake. How did he know so much about poisons? Where had he learned it? And most importantly, why had he chosen to study something so dangerous? The young calico kit wanted answers, and there was only one place to find them. She was gonna be honest about the fact that she hadn't ever visited the medicine den before, or knew how it looked from the inside, but the sharp, bitter stenches of herbal mixtures and other medical products was more than enough to inform her that she was close to the den. As she approached the medicine den, her gaze was drawn to the towering roots of the old tree that sheltered it. The roots twisted and curled above the entrance, forming an almost mystical frame that looked as though it had been shaped by StarClan themselves.

The thin stream that ran through camp encircled the den’s entrance like a protective moat, its surface partially frozen from the cold but still trickling faintly beneath the thin layer of ice. She hesitated at the edge of the pitifully small stream, her gray paws lightly brushing the icy surface before she leapt over with a soft grunt, landing just shy of the den’s entrance. Peering inside, Kestrelkit was struck by how different it felt compared to the rest of camp. The earthy smell of the den wafted out to meet her, a blend of damp soil and the sharp, tangy scent of herbs. The interior was dim, the only light coming from the faint, pale glow of the snowy landscape outside. The walls of the den were formed by the tree’s roots and packed earth, giving it a snug, secure feeling that contrasted sharply with the cold, open air of camp. The stream that encircled the den flowed gently through its center, the soft sound of trickling water echoing faintly in the otherwise quiet space. Kestrelkit took a tentative step inside, her claws clicking softly against the ground. She hadn’t been in the medicine den ever, and now, with no sickness or injury to warrant her presence, she felt a little out of place. “Wolfhawk?” she called softly, her voice barely louder than the sound of the stream. Her mismatched eyes scanned the den, landing briefly on the neat piles of herbs tucked away in crevices along the walls. They looked so organized and precise—so unlike the chaos of her own thoughts raging through her mind.

She sat down near the entrance, curling her tail tightly around her paws to ward off the lingering chill. “I… I was at your lesson earlier,” she began, her voice growing a little steadier. “You were talking about poisons—like deathberries and foxglove seeds.” Her gaze dropped to the ground as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. “Why do you know so much about things that are… so dangerous?” She glanced back up, her mismatched eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. “I mean, it’s cool, but it’s also a little scary. Don’t you ever… worry about making a mistake?” The questions tumbled out of her before she could stop them, her young mind brimming with the desire to understand. The den felt quiet and heavy around her, the winter air seeping in through the entrance but failing to touch the warmth of her evergrowing curiosity. She hoped Wolfhawk wouldn’t mind her intrusion. After all, she wasn’t just another kit looking for play or mess around—she was Kestrelkit, and she wanted to learn.

@Beaan

[Beaan]

- Wolfhawk -
- He/They - 9 Moons - ThunderClan Medicine Cat -
- A large dark brown tom with a darker back and lighter underbelly, a missing hind leg -
Wolf is not out as demi yet !!

The brown tom was surprised to hear a quiet voice calling from the entry of his den. He turned his head, green eyes falling on a small calico kit. Oh, this was one of Spring's kit. Despite how much he hated her mother, she was just an innocent ball of fluff (yes, Wolfhawk had a soft spot for kits and didn't bother hiding it). He gave the young kitten a small smile, beckoning her in with a flick of his tail, making sure his three paws were balanced before doing so. He didn't want to fall and look stupid in front of a kit, after all. He opened his jaws to speak but closed his mouth when Kestrelkit spoke once. Mainly about the poison lesson he had hosted earlier. He couldn't help but let out a sigh at the kitten's words. He had never intended on learning...any herbs, really. But Bumblestar made him a Medicine cat, so he kind of had to. But Wolfhawk didn't regret accepting it, despite his hesitation. So, the dangerous herbs were just sadly something the nine moon tom had to learn alongside the ones that weren't as dangerous.

"Well, kid, that's just part of bein a medicine cat. I didn't ask for it, but here I am. Ya can't be a medicine cat without knowing what to stay away from. Its mainly more good then bad, though," the brown tripod explained, laying down. "And all the time. Yer mother, StarClan, and other cats have taught me everything I know, and it's a lot. But i'm still not sure. But I haven't made many so far, so that's good," they added in an attempt to lighten up the conversation. "Do ya have more questions? I'd be happy to answer. But don't kits like playin games or somethin?" he asked. In all honesty, Wolfhawk didn't know what kits did. He hadn't been a kit for long, being apprenticed at just four moons before going missing. And he barley had time to have a kithood when he returned after becoming a tripod and medicine cat shortly after. It was sad now that he thought about it, but Wolfhawk just shoved away his train of thought. He didn't need to think about that just now. After all, there was a kit who might have more questions for him.

[ @iliri ]