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Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2012 22:44:49 GMT -5
The night is here and the day is gone... Nettlefur's mottled tabby pelt slipped beneath the overhanging boulder, his vision failing for a moment as he abandoned the glaring white landscape behind him for the dark cavern that was NightClan camp. A scrawny, damp squirrel swinging in his jaws. It was fresh, but cold. The snow, chest high in some places, had stolen any warmth that his prey had previously held. It was all that he had to show for a full morning of hunting; prey was scarce. Frighteningly scarce.
Nettlefur dropped the squirrel in the almost nonexistent fresh-kill pile, and moved away before shaking. Slush and half-melted ice scattered across the floor of the cavern. He coughed, and his tail flicked in annoyance. The cough had been persistently working at him for six sunrises. Oh, he hated being ill. He'd decided that if it didn't clear up by this sunrise, he'd go to visit Smokefur. He despised feeling weak, but was wise enough to know that he could not fight this cough with sheer willpower, no matter how much he wished he could. Being out in the snow didn't help, but the clan needed to be fed.
He'd miraculously escaped any of Ravenstar's hunting patrols into TreeClan territory, and felt guiltily relieved about it. He respected his leader, but something felt profoundly wrong about prey stealing. Since kithood, he'd been taught the warrior code, and had always followed it reverently. The warrior code separated the clans from boorish rouges, and he believed it made them strong. But he was loyal to Ravenstar, regardless, and would hardly acknowledge his own doubts, let alone speak them aloud.
He shook himself again, this time more to rid himself of the notion of a corrupt leader than the lingering dampness of his pelt. He'd been going hunting longer, and more often, to make up for the pangs of guilt he felt for being happy about avoiding TreeClan patrols. Twitching his tail irritably, forcing away those thoughts, he padded to the medicine cat's den, and peered inside. The air smelled strongly of herbs, and he twitched his whiskers. The aroma wasn't particularly unpleasant, just exotic and a bit strange to him. He'd historically been a rather healthy cat, and had hardly needed any care for the medicine cat, aside from a few minor scratches. Nettlefur realized that he hardly knew the silver tabby she-cat that acted as NightClan's medicine cat, and felt a growing sense of curiosity.
The tom took a step inside, trying to suppress his cough. "Hello?" he called into the shadowy den. "Smokefur?" ... And the world spins madly on. Character; Nettlefur Word count; 431 Notes; Sorry, I lost my entire first post, which was over twice as long and indefinitely better. >.<
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Post by Deleted on Dec 11, 2012 0:51:38 GMT -5
Smokefur was busy today day, the same as any other day, with the health of her clanmates. The season had been cruel and unforgiving and had claimed lives already, and was working to take perfectly healthy cats before their time as well as those well past their prime. Although it would never effect her ability to do her job without a moments thought Smokefur did fear the idea of her getting sick, she spent more time with the cats with whitecough then any other cat in the clan. It wasn’t infeasible for her to contract the nasty disease, and what would she do if she came down with the horrible affliction. Well the answer scared her even more; she would probably work herself to death.
She was snapped from her thoughts as she heard a voice call out to her from the entrance of her den. She turned to face the entrance calling, “Come in.” as she walked towards the sound of the speaking cat. Once there she noticed it was the tom Nettlefur, he was easily identifiable with the gangly limbs and wiry fur she of course wouldn’t tell him such things. That would be rude, albeit rather amusing. “What can I do for you?” She asked the tom but she figured she knew the answer as she saw him suppressing his cough, she wouldn’t push him though warriors tended to become defensive when sick.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 11, 2012 1:27:17 GMT -5
I just got lost and slept right through the dawn... Nettlefur entered the den, placing his paws carefully. Smokefur turned to meet him, and he nodded his head in a polite greeting. He noted that her eyes appeared troubled, but said nothing. "I've had this cough for a bit, now, and I thought I'd come to you before it got any worse," he told her. I'm no use to my clan sick. Or dead. He thought, the morbid humor a bit more real than he might have liked. He flicked his ears and sat, wrapping his long feathery tail around his paws, letting it flick from here to there.
His green-brown eyes wandered around the den, catching glimpses of the herbs that scented the air. The whole affair of seemed terribly complicated, and he felt a rush of appreciation for Smokefur. How does she do it all by herself? he wondered. He turned his attention back to her. ... And the world spins madly on. Character; Nettlefur Word count; 159 Notes; Meep. Sorry, it sucks! :P
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Post by Deleted on Dec 11, 2012 1:39:16 GMT -5
“A cough, I presumed as much…” She said in a gentle tone as she closed her eyes and walked up to him. She weaved carefully around the tom brushing his fur softly to sooth him before placing an ear at his side. Closing her eyes she listened very carefully to the natural noises that the cats’ body made, she then tried to block out all other sounds besides the ones she was looking for. She blocked out the gentle sound of moving air through the cavern and her den, the toms’ heartbeat, and all other things along those lines. She focused on the sound of his breathing, a few normal breaths went by then she instructed him simply, “Take a breath for me please Nettlefur.” She said as she focused deeply on the sound the deep breath would make listening for the tell tale signs of white cough hoping if she did hear them they wouldn’t be very bad.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 11, 2012 21:53:31 GMT -5
I thought of you and where you'd gone...
Why is that we cats of the clans live the way we do? Nettlefur's thoughts wandered as Smokefur put her ear to his side, sitting obediently still. There's so much inevitable hardship; our work is never done. He took a deep breath when instructed, the herb scented air filling his senses. There will always be harsh winters and sweltering summers, prey shortages and flooding, sicknesses and battles... He flicked his ears. But, StarClan, what a wonderful life it is, once you slither past the troubles we face. He pondered like this often, the thoughts taking over his mind in his idle moments. Our camaraderie, our pleasures, our warrior code...
Now, his musings shifted to Ravenstar once more, and he tensed. It wasn't his place to think such thoughts. He was a loyal warrior! But is following blindly what's best for NightClan? a part of him whispered. He squashed the thought, trying to relax, and turned back to Smokefur, once she had removed her ear.
"So what's the verdict? Will I make it through the night?" he joked, trying to lighten his own mood. He flicked his tail in amusement, his friendly eyes following the silver she-cat.
... And the world spins madly on. Character; Nettlefur Word count; 215 Notes; Sorry it took so long, and sorry it's such crap! :3
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Post by Deleted on Dec 11, 2012 22:11:40 GMT -5
“I would assume so.” She said in a gentle tone, “It isn’t going to be the death of you yet, but you without a doubt have white cough.” She broke the news to him thinking about the crackling noise she had heard from his lungs as he took his deep breath. She quickly walked over to where she stored her herbs and brought out the best concoction she could think of with her limited supplies; Chickweed to help with the cough and the actually affliction, a small bit of coltsfoot to sooth the cats breathing, a small bit of feverfew to regulate Nettlefurs’ breathing and a just a dash of sorrel to keep his strength up. She could only spare a bit of each but together they would get the job done she thought as she pushed the pile to him and instructed him to eat. “Now you need to make sure and get your rest, but don’t lie around too much either being active is a big step towards getting your healthy again. Don’t strain yourself when you are out on patrols and make sure to get a decent amount of sleep at night and you will be good as new in no time.”
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Post by Deleted on Dec 11, 2012 22:40:34 GMT -5
I watch the stars from my windowsill... Nettlefur sighed. Whitecough. He thought of the cats most recently lost to illnesses and felt a pang of sorrow, and also a bit of worry for himself. He rose, stepping towards the herbs. "Thank you," he mewed, bending down to the herbs. They smelled a bit bad, and he reckoned that they tasted much worse, but he lapped them up into his jaws and swallowed, displaying not so much of a wince at the harsh flavor. Smokefur had worked hard for these herbs, and he was not about to disrespect her by complaining about the precious fruits of her labours. He finished the herbs and stood, his brown-green eyes glittering in the dim light.
"I'll be careful," he assured her, taking note of all she said.
He noted that she must not have had anything to eat this day, and thought of his scrawny squirrel. "Would like some fresh-kill? I caught a squirrel just before I came here." He suddenly felt guilty, as if he'd just confessed to some crime. "N-near the Branch Trail," he added quickly, stammering a bit. The tom instantly regretted it, knowing that he would sound absurd for feeling so uneasy about hunting... No NightClan cat would question Ravenstar's orders, and he shouldn't either! He looked away from her, feeling uncomfortable, hoping she wouldn't notice. ... The whole world is moving and I'm standing still. Character; Nettlefur Word count; 230 Notes; Bloop!
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Post by Deleted on Dec 11, 2012 22:51:28 GMT -5
After promising to care for himself and offering Smokefur some freshkill Nettlefur began to act rather strangely, the medicine tipped her head to the side as she answered his first question simply. “I’m fine thank you, I shall eat later if there is anything left in the kill pile there are other cats that need it much more to give them strength this harsh leafbare.” She justified quickly as she tilted her head the other way continuing to examine him with his razor sharp gaze. She squinted her eyes before asking him in a non-accusing gentle tone, “Are you okay Nettlefur? You seem to be a little off…” She added as she noticed him look away and wondered what could possibly be getting under his skin. He had just mentioned catching prey, and then something about his demeanor had changed considerable. For the life of the medicine cat though she couldn’t figure out what it was that had caused the sudden shift of attitude.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 11, 2012 23:26:04 GMT -5
I think of you, oh, where've you gone... Nettlefur felt frozen in place with a mix of guilt, anxiety, and apprehension. He was tense and nervous. Should I say anything? he thought, then quickly countered himself. No, of course not! His gut twisted with his dilemma. He opened his jaws to speak. "I..." he started, then stopped himself. Maybe it was in the best interest of his clan to say something...
His tail twitched in agitation. It was so complicated! He met her eyes again. She was so gentle, and he felt like he could trust her... He looked away, bracing himself as if for a violent blow.
"I'm worried about Ravenstar's patrols into TreeClan," he forced out, his voice barely a whisper. It felt so peculiar to speak the words aloud. This was the first time that he'd admitted it to himself, and he had just blurted it out to another cat! He felt angry with himself, and fearful of the judgement he was likely to receive from this she-cat. He prayed to StarClan that Smokefur wouldn't yowl it to his clanmates. Nettlefur felt vulnerable and foolish, standing here in the medicine cat's den, awkward and uneasy under her vibrant blue gaze. ... And let the world spin madly on. Character; Nettlefur Word count; 199 Notes; SCANDALOUS!
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Post by Deleted on Dec 11, 2012 23:33:45 GMT -5
Smokefur was ready to hear any reason the cat could give her why he was acting so shifty at the mere mention of hunting and freshkill, however she wasn’t expecting he would answer with ill feelings towards Ravenstars’ patrols into Treeclans’ territory. She went wide eyed for a moment before catching herself and adjusting her gaze to appear as normal as it ever did before, she wasn’t at all displeased with the warrior as she had recently brought her doubts up with Ravenstar. It hadn’t ended well, she had folded on her threats and been punished with an iron paw by her strong willed and dedicated sister.
“You don’t need to worry, I’m not going to ridicule your or strike you.” She said in the same gentle voice as before trying to calm the tom before she moved into any other conversation on the topic. “I myself had felt uneasy about the situation since she started sending the patrols, I brought it up with her and was swiftly punished after making threats against the clan if she didn’t stop.” The silver medicine cat explained simply. “I learned that I may not agree with her, but she is strong and more than capable of keeping her clanmates safe. On a moral level you need not worry, I am in charge of our clans’ morality I take it personally upon myself and in this case I was shown the error of my ways by Ravenstar.”
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Post by Deleted on Dec 11, 2012 23:56:40 GMT -5
Take a good look in my eyes... Nettlefur saw Smokefur's eyes widen in shock. He had caught her off guard, and felt another pang of guilt. She spoke gently, and he relaxed a bit, still reeling inside. He found her response odd, but got the message, and nodded, his tail flicking. But it goes directly against the warrior code! he thought. From the silver tabby's words, he'd gained the sense that Ravenstar punishing her and insisting that it was okay had not appeased the she-cat's worries. But he understood.
"Thank you," he murmured, examining the cavern floor. He was unsure if he should leave or linger, and stood uncomfortably where he was. ... And tell me what you see. Character; Nettlefur Word count; 114 Notes; -
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Post by Deleted on Dec 12, 2012 0:15:58 GMT -5
The silver medicine cat could sense the levels of awkwardness still emanating from the pelt of the warrior tom. She tilted her head as she felt pangs of sympathy for Nettlefur, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to feel ashamed of her own ideas and free will. She decided to step forward and nudge him gently with her head under his jaw and to add a few words to try and cheer him up. “Don’t be ashamed of these thoughts, I myself and very happy you are so concerned with doing what you think is right. I thought it was an issue worth pursing and I was quickly corrected, so believe me when I tell you that it is the lesser of two evils. Ravenstar cares to keep you fed, more than she cares about the anger of Treeclan.” She said as she nuzzled him gently, she was aware she was a pretty young she-cat and just because she couldn’t have a mate it didn’t mean she couldn’t use her feminine charm on a tom to calm him. She would feel awful sending him away sick and anxious so she offered simply, “It’s getting late, so if you want to stay for the night I would be very thankful. It can get rather cold in here at night and another cat would sure warm it up.” she said sweetly.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 12, 2012 1:01:12 GMT -5
And when I see you, I really see you upside down... Nettlefur was surprised when Smokefur nudged him. Her words did make sense, though he feared that TreeClan's anger might not be all that they were risking. The she-cat was warm and gentle with him, and he felt his nerves calming a bit. For the first time, he wondered what the life of a medicine cat was like. It had never struck him as a lonely life, but now he pondered that thought. It wasn't necessary for every cat to have a mate, but he realized that she might not have many real friends within the clan... NightClan cats weren't always overly friendly with each other. It wasn't a bad thing, per say, just a... thing. Nettlefur, for one, was a friendly soul, and enjoyed the company of other cats.
"Alright," he agreed, brightening up a bit. His mottled tabby fur had dried from his snowy hunt at odd angles, but he didn't notice it. He wasn't an overly vain cat, and while he kept himself clean, it was common for his hair to go a bit wonky at the end of the day.
He was fished for a topic for a moment before asking casually, "So, what are the other medicine cats like?" He didn't know much about them, and had only seen the cats from a distance at gatherings. Smokefur must know them on the level of acquaintances, at the least.
His eyes sparkling pleasantly, Nettlefur relaxed considerably. The silver tabby was easy to be around, and he enjoyed her company. ... But my brain knows better, it picks you up and turns you 'round. Character; Nettlefur Word count; 255 Notes; Zoopity-soup!
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Post by Deleted on Dec 12, 2012 20:41:25 GMT -5
“The other medicine cats?” Smokefur echoed the question as she moved her tail to drop over his back as she lead him further into the den, she was smiling pleased he had agreed to spend the night in the medicine cats den. “There is usually a theme of kindness and gentle heartedness among the females.” She explained tilting her head as if thinking about something a bit differently, “And for the apprenticed males, they usually seem to be rather feminine for a while too… maybe it’s a thing I don’t know. Before long though they are regular toms like a warrior would be, subtract the massive egos.” She said with a soft giggle. She lead him over to one of her patients nests and flicked him with her tail telling him he was good to sleep here, “I’m sorry the moss isn’t fresh, there isn’t much bedding to go around leafbare and I save what I have for the elders and urgently sick.” She explained before continuing on with her other rant, “The toms are still kind, but they don’t seem as gentle and soft as the she-cats… especially Rookfrost. He doesn’t really seem to be any of what I’ve just described, he is scary.” She explained with a shiver.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 14, 2012 2:30:29 GMT -5
The Atlantic was born today and I'll tell you how... Nettlefur placidly followed Smokefur's lead, absorbing all that she said. Warriors' egos. He laughed out loud, inducing a quiet cough, and nodded in agreement. StarClan, they could get pompous! He did make valid efforts at not behaving like a badger with moonlight up its tail, but he was aware that he could occasionally be a complete mouse-brain. What set Nettlefur apart from some cats was that he recognized this, and would readily apologize when called out on it; it wasn't that he had a huge ego, but he would occasionally get defensive when he got his pride bruised. He was always ready to laugh at himself for these moments of utter idiocy. The stone walls reminded him to never take himself too seriously. After all, where would he find resonance for his time here if not in the natural satire of the world?
The tabby tom purred as he sat on the nest. "Thank you. And don't worry, I've practically been sleeping on the stone floor in the warrior's den." He good-naturedly sat in the nest, and pricked his ears at her mention of Rookfrost. "What is Rookfrost, then, if not like the rest of them?" he asked, intrigued.
Why would he be frightening to her? he pondered, twitching his tail at the thought. Medicine cats were, by reputation, a very non-alarming bunch, and the thought of a cat the would unnerve his own medicine cat caused him contemplate a bit on the matter. ... The clouds above opened up and let it out. Character; Nettlefur Words; 253 Notes; Plum dum sugar! ... What is a sugar plum, anyways?
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