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Post by Deleted on Jun 19, 2013 16:45:04 GMT -5
It was hot, but not as hot as it had been, nor as hot as it was when the fire decided to run though the once green but now blackened woods of Treeclan. However, it seemed that the Open Woods had a significant breeze that cooled the pelt under the sun, unless of course you were black pelted or any other dark pigmented fur. However, the small tom that sat inside the Lightninclan border with the ever so strong scent of Treeclan was not of dark fur, but instread held a sandy brown coloring. Pale teal eyes stared out onto the moors as he awaited the arrival of the tom who was to be mentoring him for the next few moons. With his head tilted to the side, and his tail curled around his rather small paws, the odd little Treeclanner sat like a statue.
If Littletimber was one to emote emotions, he would emote excitement, after all it was his first day learning the ropes of a Medicine Cat after being a warrior. However, the montonous tom was mearly blank, like canvas that had yet to be painted, but his would never be painted. Quiet and mysterious, he was one of those cats who could sneak up on you before you were able to hear, or scent him. He often startled Lionstar, who was once the small tom's mentor. Such things like that would amuse any normal cat, but alas, Littletimber was far from normal. He was the outcast of his clan. Prefering to be alone, not liking the touch or comfort of another cat, and sticking to the shadows where he was alone and by himself.
Yes, an odd cat like that could not be seen as a warrior, but as a Medicine Cat, where his path was one walked far away from those who lived as warriors, that was his life. That was where his journey now lead him. He would learn under Rookfrost by day, and by Whispersong at night when he dreamt with Starclan in his comforting nest, alone inside the Medicine Cat's den. Littletimber's ears flicked, the first thing that this statue like cat had done for the past maybe ten mintues, pale teal eyes turning from their stared spot on the moorland grasses to where a black shadow was creeping towards him at an ever so slow pace that didn't bother the Treeclanner at all.
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Post by Fawn on Jun 20, 2013 19:26:58 GMT -5
⇒Medicine Cat of LightningClan⇐
He had spent the night digging up corpses. Not something the frigid tom could say to openly express his shorter-than-usual levels of patience and tolerance for his fellow Clanmates' stupidity. It was not the kind of irritation caused by a lack of sleep - Rookfrost often found that a short nap here and there was enough to stave off the tiredness, adrenal glands fully functioning in keeping him awake during all hours of the night. It was an irritation caused by the normalcy required of his position that he finish up long before he wanted to so that he might meet a deadline or fulfill some promise made.
One such promise was waiting for the LightningClan Medicine Cat at the edge of the moorlands, the sparse line of trees that separated his Clan from the other tom's only a few foxlengths away now, a coarse wind sweeping the tufts at the tips of his ears in all directions. The queen had been struck with such precision, if I had to give credit to the supposed killer, of LightningClan, there can only be Whiteshade. This was no accident. This revelation did not horrify or unsettle the Medicine Cat, though he had taken oaths that heavily contradicted his sociopathic lack of empathy and concern for others, if anything, it had only intrigued him further.
In the midst of these thoughts, calculating how much force must've been applied to rob the she-cat of her life - with no real signs of a struggle indicating that she had been taken completely by surprise - Rookfrost blinked once. Coming back into focus, icy pools met stark, empty teal as Medicine Cat met Medicine Cat, their differences numerous but overall demeanor of a startling sameness as to heighten the wariness of any prey animals within the immediate vicinity.
He did not waste time with trivial greetings or meaningless questions - he did not care out the tom's day was, in fact, he could scarcely recall the smaller tom's name, remembering him only through facial recognition and nothing else. If he were forced to recall one particular thing about the new TreeClan healer, Rookfrost supposed he could mention the unnaturally shrill voice Littletimber spoke with.
It was high enough to suspect the tom had not hit puberty, or there was some sort of accident or mistake in his adolescent development to somehow justify his high-pitched vocals now that he was an adult. A precursory look was cast over Littletimber's body, Rookfrost speaking up half on a whim rather than any actual desire to initiate conversation. Right down to business, because as soon as he was done, the black shadow would be permitted by the restrictive chains of his comfortably unassuming persona to finally return to the work he loved best. Cutting things open.
"We will go herb gathering in the mountains. Tell me in advance all of your collected herb knowledge thus far, as I hate repeating myself." As if to satisfy some abstract consideration, Rookfrost added, "Are you, by chance, related to Littlestep?" Their stout height and similar names automatically forced a connection within the black tom's mind, but without conclusive evidence, Rookfrost was inclined to believe otherwise.
Was that stoutness genetic? Or was Littletimber simply underdeveloped? If memory served him, the small she-cat that had accompanied him into the mountains during his last excursion had still had time to grow. She could've made her name obsolete, for all he knew. If it weren't for a curiosity concerning genetic traits exchanged between parents and offspring, Rookfrost would have discarded the information and the encounter entirely.
In fact, some other cat had gone with them into the mountains during that excursion, but Rookfrost could recall no image or name of this 'third party', and had no further reason to bother.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 20, 2013 13:42:56 GMT -5
Ears perked up at the sound of the dull, raspy voice of the older and darker colored tom that now traveled with the pint size former warrior. It seemed as if it would be a normal day in the mountains, letting the sandy brown tom figure his way out with different herbs and berries. Always a fun way to start any day, but then again... What was fun to him?
Such an odd thing, emotions. Littletimber didn't quite understand the point of being happy, or sad. To him, who was emotionless indeed, he saw the weight that such feelings carried, and why would anycat want to be burdened with such a thing. Littletimber's small ears swerved to catch Rookfrost's next bout of words before he had time to fall to deep into thought about the over importance of emotions within a normal cat.
Slinking behind him at a pace, the Medicine Cat, or was he currently a Medicine Cat Apprentice, well whatever his title, he turned his teal eyes towards Rookfrost. Littlestep? Being rather smart, Littletimber just assumed that the black tom was making this relation assumption due to the prefix of both names and perhaps this Littlestep of Lightningclan was small as well. Even if such was true, there was no way that Littlestep and Littletimber were related, one came from Lightningclan where the were no trees and the wind blew like breath, while the other hailed from Treeclan, hidden saftly among the trees and given a chance to learn to sneak without being seen.
Deciding to pipe up, Littletimber allowed his silent voice to be heard, "I find it odd." He stopped, his high pitched voice was such a burden sometimes, "That you ask if this, Littlestep, and I are related when it is impossible." His small pawsteps moved him forwards in the course grasses that led up to the mountain. "From what I know, my family is pure blooded Treeclan, and I was an only kit." He said, almost in a matter-of-factly tone, if not for the fact that his tone was dull and lifeless.
Shaking this little conversation off, the small sandy brown tom pushed forwards, pausing at a rather small bush. Tilting his head to the side, Littletimber turned to Rookfrost, "Tansy right?" He asked, though with the way he did it, it almost sounded like a statement.
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Post by Fawn on Aug 24, 2013 19:19:45 GMT -5
⇒Medicine Cat of LightningClan⇐
The smaller healer's voice was high and deliberate, Rookfrost able to only compare it to the sometimes unbearable screech of the wind through the right combination of tree branches, able to tolerate the sound only due to the mind it voiced the opinions of and for no other reason. With the additional denial of having any relation to Littlestep, the tom put the matter to rest – considering the way Littletimber had chosen to respond seemed to indicate a lack of blood purity concerning Littlestep's parentage.
He considered the blood purity ideals to which some of the older, more aristocratic felines of any Clan clung to be nothing short of ridiculous; if the Clans wished to survive then keeping up with the old traditions concerning only this Clan's cats mating within their own Clan then they would likely keep producing weaker and weaker breeding stock each year. Weaker warriors, weaker apprentices, odder kits.
One simply had to take a look at LightningClan to see the result of what was likely a few bloodlines that ran a little too closely. Between the pair of albinos and that birdbrained Icewhisker – though somehow that felt like an insult to Avian kind – his Clan was already on a crash course for such unnaturally close genetic pools that he almost felt as though he should mention something to somecat.
But who?
And then again, why bother? If the Clans wanted to drive themselves to genetic ruin, who was he to stand in their way?
Suddenly Rookfrost's lip curled just slightly, pulling away from perfectly white teeth in sharp contrast to the inky blackness of his coat; Perhaps StarClan will send them all a message if it spirals much further. What could their supposed feline ancestors say on the matter? That, for once, would've been a message he'd like to receive, so he could have the utmost pleasure of curbing a few of his Clanmates' ability to reproduce, as some of them, for the good of feline-kind, should not be passing on their obnoxious, crippling genes onto the next generation.
He could think of one she-cat in particular.
”That is tansy.” Rookfrost did not need to approach the strong-smelling yellow-flowered plant from here; his senses were working perfectly, and it could be scented even from the foxlength of distance that separated himself from Littletimber. An icy gray eye was questioningly cast upon the slighter feline, dark ears swiveling forward to catch anymore of the TreeClanner's slightly grating vocals, obviously waiting for the tom to tell him what it was good for – if he knew.
Rookfrost was never one to waste his breath. If Littletimber knew it, then he would do well to give an answer, and if the tom was lacking in that knowledge, only then would the dark-souled healer step forward to enlighten him.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 24, 2013 1:33:40 GMT -5
I walk a lonely road The only one that I have ever known Don't know where it goes But it's home to me and I walk alone
After a moment, there was a small nod from the tom's head. Nothing that could be pride in himself for finding the plant, when he didn't experience emotions. It was merely a nod of that he had been able to correctly address the plant's name. After staring at it, as though the yellow flower would suddenly talk to him, the sandy brown tabby turned from the plant and back to fact Rookfrost, who looked rather annoyed, or impatient. Such emotions were useless, they led to trouble, did they not?
Once more, Littletimber's jaws opened to speak the answer to Rookfrost's unspoken question, as he had proven he was quite good at doing such that. "Tansy is good for coughs. Though it should only be taken in small doses." His head tilted to the side, "Though I suppose Honey could work too, even though it's usually used for when you breath in too much smoke." His pale teal eyes turned back to Rookfrost after his conclusion was finished.
He wasn't quite sure why he Rookfrost had agreed to such measures as training Littletimber when it was clear that the older, pitch black tom had little fondness for anyone, quite like Littletimber in a way. It would take more time spent together for the Treeclanner to figure out the Lightningclanner's motives in training a warrior in the ways of a Medicine Cat. It seemed to him that Whispersong should have been enough to train him, after all she was an ancient Medicine Cat, more experienced and perhaps a better teacher than the offsetting Rookfrost. If Starclan were to guide him as a medicine cat, why not train him as one as well.
Mysteries worth pondering for later perhaps. Littletimber's eyes narrowed, there was something that he had said earlier about him and Littlestep's relations that bothered the older tom. Perhaps the fact that Littletimber accused Littlestep of not being full blooded Treeclan. Was that not the way he was raised, to think that out of clan relations were against Starclan and the Code. And now for a question.
"You do not like the fact that I spoke ill of Littlestep's heritage?" He asked in his shrill voice, perhaps to on point with Rookfrost's thoughts. "I do not know if she is not full Treeclan. I only state that I am." He said, as if trying to ease a wound he may have opened, though he did in poorly and with a dull, monotone voice.
My shadow's the only one that walks beside me My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating Sometimes I wish some one up there will find me Till then I walk alone
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