Post by JOS on Aug 16, 2023 20:05:01 GMT -8
[attr="class","round-presto"]
DUSKFEATHER
Windclan Medicine Cat
Windclan Medicine Cat
Greenleaf was at its peak, and although the living was relatively easy during this season, dread and anxiety plagued the forest territories. Duskfeather could feel it all around her like electricity from a lightening storm. Reports and rumors of missing cats had soured any joy that bountiful prey and pleasant weather brought, making every day activities such as gathering herbs seem somehow perverse. Surely there was something she could do, something she had to do? Every night when she curled up in to her nest she would pray for a sign from Starclan, but every morning she awoke only to another beautiful day in Windclan.
The medicine cat woke to a perfect Greenleaf morning having slept solidly and dreamlessly through the night. She blinked into the sunlight streaming in to her den, reaching in to her memory to try to uncover some whisper of a dream, a scrap of a symbol. Nothing. âMouse dung!â she grumbled, raising from her nest and stretching her legs and back. Her den was empty, for once. Her apprentice was gone, the place where he used to sleep had been long since cleared. That was another thing she wanted to get doneâto choose a new apprentice. Unlike becoming a warrior, becoming a medicine cat was more often than not a choice, or a calling that was very rarely declined. So far, none had come forward to her, and Starclan had been silent on this issue as well. They better have something to tell me at halfmoon, she thought as she groomed herself in a sunbeam. Or else Iâm just going to have some words for them, thatâs for certain!
After grooming, Duskfeather set about her daily tasks, singing to herself as she went:
âWe have dock leaves for sore pads
Elder leaves for sprains
Juniper for stomach aches and
Poppy seeds for pain
We must keep them high
We must keep them dry,
To protect them from the rain!â
She would surely have died of horror if anyone caught her singing about her herbs, as it would have ruined her carefully cultivated prickly exterior, but since her den was empty she saw no harm in it as she sorted through her store and took stock of what she had.
After the morning sort, the medicine cat ventured into the main camp to look for fresh kill. There was quite a collection of prey already from the sunrise hunting patrol, and she picked out a rabbit to share with her dear friend Mintfeather.
The she-cats had become good friends, often eating and sharing tongues together. Duskfeather was quite fond of the white she-cat, even though their personalities were quite the opposite in some ways. Perhaps that was the appeal? Though, the stubbornness was the same, and Duskfeather was finding that her friend was a very difficult patient indeed. There was something wrong with Mintfeather, that much Duskfeather knew, but every time Duskfeather seemed to be getting close to the answer, Mintfeather would find some way to deflect. It was very frustrating for the medicine cat who, above all else, loved solving a good problem.
Duskfeather dragged the prey over to the warriorâs den and waited for Mintfeather to awake, as this was the time they usually shared tongues together. Soon she became impatient and called out,
âMintfeather! I have a nice juicy rabbit for us. Get your tail out here or Iâll eat it myself!â
Minteh Freshness