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Post by Deleted on May 31, 2013 13:08:38 GMT -5
LETMELIGHTUPTHESKY
--------------------------------------spark
The journey from StarClan's Claws to NightClan camp seemed to stretch on forever for a crippled two moon old kitten. Through adamantly refusing any helping hand when it came to traveling, Spark only made the trek more rigorous. Through the journey to NightClan, Spark had talked little with his escorts. Of course they wanted to know about him. Who he was, how he had broken his leg, where his family was -- he figured these all were questions on the warriors' minds. Despite their efforts to withdraw information from him, Spark had been a closed book. He was a closed book not because he felt like revealing his life story would change the course of the journey, but because he did not want their sympathy. A ghost-cat, rejected by his family and left for dead. Such were not concepts that brought him the respect he so fervently wished for. In any case, Poisonleaf and Spiriteye were invested in getting him to NightClan. They saw his injuries and knew how dire it was to get him to the best possible medicine cat.
Keeping quiet was not a hard task for the kitten. Since leaving his family, he had been a loner and oftentimes in too much pain to be able to communicate with other wanderers. Spark focused inwardly as he walked. He sought to hold onto what he remembered about his family, no matter how much he felt that they were slipping away. One thought in particular that disturbed him was how he could not remember the names of his siblings. He could see their faces, hear their joking taunts, but could not give them names. As he walked, he wondered if medicine and rest could help him remember.
In retrospect, it was a wonder Spark had survived the fall in the first place. Along with initially breaking his leg, there had been a lot of blood loss. The kitten had awoken from the fall completely alone, so weak that he could barely lift his head up and cry out his mother's name. The black kitten had initially been in too much pain to function. The numbness and uselessness of his entire leg brought respite from his suffering, though he knew that nothing good would come of it.
As the threesome crossed from the outside world into NightClan territory, Spark was greeted by a whole lot of commotion.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 2, 2013 23:43:22 GMT -5
i am pride, and i am the fall
poisonleaf
The calico she-cat, after brushing past Spiriteye with a silent threat in her head, had taken the lead on their little trip back to camp. She had spoken to the kit, but after being completely ignored, focused her attention on the trip. She'd set a steady pace, not excruciatingly slow, but something the kit could follow with relative ease.
Still, it took time before the camp came into view. By that time, Poisonleaf had gotten very bored, and had begun to plot her revenge on the all too flirty Spiriteye, who had, at some point, caught a crow. Poisonleaf cast a glare in the white tom's direction, before leading Spark into the camp.
She ignored the looks from a few of her Clanmates, leading the injured kit directly to the medicine cat's den. Before entering, she turned back to Spiriteye. "Do what you want with that, quickly, and fetch Ravenstar." She turned to the broken kit behind her and flicked her tail, indicating he should follow her. She slipped through the entrance to Smokefur's den, leading the loner kit inside. Compact white paws carried her past a nest containing a pretty orangey-brown tabby she-cat, face swathed in cobwebs. Poisonleaf ignored yet another injured loner kit, intent only on alerting Smokefur to her newest patient.
"Smokefur. I have another kit for you. This one's got a different story, but won't tell it. Another loner, but not from the same place as the first." Poisonleaf stepped back, awaiting the she-cat's reply. Internally, she made a mental note to watch Ravenstar, to see how she would react to all these loner kits coming to NightClan for help. Hell, we're gonna be like TreeClan if this doesn't stop.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 10, 2013 10:18:26 GMT -5
Smokefur was in her den as she usually was; the consistency was good as it made it easy to find her when a patient needed her specialized skills. It didn’t much matter though, she took one look at the loner kit Poisonleaf brought in announcing that it was her job to take care of him; she couldn’t help but feel uneasy that another loner was brought into their camp. It wasn’t actually the kits that made her feel this way, it was her bigoted, overbearing and all around super warm and fuzzy sister that was soon to be breathing down her neck like it was her fault that they had gotten injured. She couldn’t help but feel remorse that she had to feel awful about doing the right thing just because the helpless patients weren’t of Nightclan origin; she wasn’t going to deny treatment no matter what Ravenstar said so she decided to start right away before her leader could even arrive. Sauntering closer she started simple with the mysterious kit, “What’s your name little one?” She asked as she started gently prodding and poking the loner with her nose trying to quickly assess all the injuries. “Poisonleaf would you make sure that this kits nest is extra comfortable? There is already plenty of bedding in some of those premade nests just combine two if you would.”
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Post by Deleted on Jun 22, 2013 19:30:29 GMT -5
P O I S O N L E A F
they say pride comes before the fall, but i am pride, and i am the fall
Poisonleaf stepped back as Smokefur got up and began assessing the kit. The multicolored she-cat didn't intend on hanging around very long, but apparently Smokefur had other plans. "Poisonleaf, would you make sure that this kit's nest is extra comfortable? There is already plenty of bedding in those premade nests, just combine two if you would." Poisonleaf, already poised to leave, narrowed her eyes and suppressed a growl.
Still, the warrior turned back into the den, jaws clamped shut and eyes burning. She began pulling moss from one nest and piling it into another. White paws pushed and pulled, forming the moss into a nest-like shape. She made a mental note to add moss to her own nest, feeling the extra soft cushion now beneath her paws.
In the next nest over, the golden tabby kit stirred. With her face still swathed in cobwebs, it was difficult to tell the extent of her injury. Anyone who had seen it, though, would know what a miracle it was that she had survived. Still asleep, the she-kit relaxed and stilled, her side rising and falling with each gentle breath.
Once Poisonleaf was finished, she retreated to the entrance of Smokefur's den. Her venomous green eyes watched in silence as the medicine cat tended to her newest patient. It was more out of curiousity that she stayed, and not out of any emotional attachment to the tom, who's young heart had already been hardened by his injury.
Deep within her heart of stone, a small piece chipped off and fell, desperately crying out before it shattered.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 23, 2013 0:32:08 GMT -5
LETMELIGHTUPTHESKY
--------------------------------------spark
Skinny mottled black fur prickled as he followed the obviously self absorbed she-cat blindly into wherever she was taking him. Spark felt alone and naked as he struggled to keep up with the NightClanner's brisk step. He felt the eyes of every NightClanner in camp on him, whether or not they actually were. His presence, a loner among NightClanners, made him stick out like a sore thumb. Spark couldn't help but glance around anxiously even though he had a navigator to protect him, fearing an attack at any moment. If the kitten was assaulted, there was no way he could protect himself.
Once in the dark private comfort of the NightClan den, the kitten could breathe a sigh of relief. The space was quite quaint and the smell of herbs filling the air brought him comfort. When the silver tabby she-cat approached the pair of them, Spark had no doubt in his mind that the cat was their clan's medicine cat.
"What’s your name little one?"
The smoky kit narrowed his golden eyes at the medicine cat and bristled his pelt. Though the cat seemed to be a healer and was sniffing him all over, the tomcat still kept up his guard against her. Spark was completely defenseless, his injury preventing him from even running away if someone chose to spring on him. As Smokefur poked around and kept his name in locked jaws, the kitten couldn't help but wince. Every place on his body felt tender and sensitive, whether or not the area being prodded had been injured or not. The foreign she-cat's touch felt like fire on his pelt like ash. "What's yours?" he mewed in a reproachful tone, before turning his head ever so slightly to catch Poisonleaf leaving out of the corner of his eye.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 30, 2013 22:00:02 GMT -5
i've been beaten by the one's who get me off
Initially, Poisonleaf had intended on dumping the kit off with Smokefur and leaving immediately. But something about the kit had sparked her interest, so instead of leaving completely, she chose to sit. Just inside of the den, pawsteps from the yawning opening into the camp. The pretty calico curled her tail over her delicate white paws, narrowed green eyes softening slightly as she watched the medicine cat work.
"What’s your name little one?" Poisonleaf's whiskers twitched slightly. If their trip from StarClan's Claws had taught him anything, it was that the little tom-kit was a highly secretive and defensive cat. She watched as Smokefur poked and prodded, she couldn't help but take note of the pain he seemed to be in. He didn't disappoint her, responding with a defensive tone. "What's yours?" A small smile touched her maw, though the taste was so bittersweet.
Poisonleaf was never known for her ability to feel for anything or anyone but herself. But this tom, this small, broken tom-kit, he affected her in ways none other had. The feelings that welled up inside her as she watched him scared her. They were strange and unfamiliar, and that frightened her. What was it about him that even elicited these feelings?
If she were to allow herself to ponder the question, she'd find that she knew the answer. In the dark fur of the smaller cat, there was so much of herself reflected there. The cold, defensive shell, hiding what could only be a turmoil of emotion beneath. Refusing to show pain, too stubborn to back down and accept the help of others. She also knew her own heart, how she had so distanced herself from others to the point where she was untouchable. In her own would, stoic, strong, and unbearably alone.
She didn't feel pity for the kit. Her heart ached for him to have a better reality than the one she existed in. She wanted to protect him, defend him from the dark coldness that clutched at her own heart. But she also knew that he was far gone enough that any attempt to get close enough to make a difference would be barred. He would resist every move, counter every advance, and strike down all her attempts. That didn't make him a lost cause, though. Just someone worth fighting to save.
P O I S O N L E A F |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 25, 2013 21:15:51 GMT -5
Smokefur wasn’t at all surprised that she wasn’t able to get the kit to spit out his name the first try, especially with her poking him all over sufficiently positive he was in pain pretty much everywhere. Some places were worse than others, like his obviously broken leg, some were just sore from whatever had happened to him. Realizing she hadn’t asked for a bit more information yet she quickly delivered her reply to the kit, “I’m Smokefur the Nightclan medicine cat, and I’m going to take care of you as best I can little tom.” Then she added in a few moments after speaking to no one in particular, “So tell me what happened, or what you think happened.” She then went to work examining the leg, with a sniff and a few much prods which were much gentler then before. She was going to have to set his leg but she really wanted him calm and comfortable before she even attempted that. “So what’s your name? I told you mine.”
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