[Deleted]

The heavy rainfall had kept many of NightClan's warriors within the cavernous shelter of their camp. But, as it were, Featherpaw was no warrior. Though the water dripped off of her silvery fur, darkening it several shades, the rain wasn't particularly cold. A fair contrast, she mused, from the bitter leafbare that had claimed so many lives. Still, she did not linger on the lives lost. Their spirits were among the stars now, and, lo, it was a merciful conclusion to a spectacularly unforgiving life.

The plume of her tail brushed against the needles that littered the earth beneath the pines, rustling them slightly as her paws fell soft upon the path that she'd hardly chosen for herself. She didn't have a destination, but instead meandered through the trees. There was a certain weight to being medicine cat. She was a healer, a counselor, and the link between her clan and the starry spirits of their ancestors. But it did little to hinder her. She was rather cut out for the life, it would seem. The stars seemed to favor her enough to help her on her way, guiding her gentle pawsteps where they'd lead no other.

Though she felt calm, her thoughts drifted to more troubling aspects of her role. She knew of Ravenstar's strength in leadership, but also of her harshness, of her arrogant moves against the other clans, and of her bitterness towards them. She'd swelled in power, become bloated with it. Featherpaw thought fondly of her late mentor, but couldn't help but feel that Smokefur had allowed her older sister to slip too easily in to the throes of power. She'd grown to disregard the warrior code, to take authority in to her own claws. Making tactically unwise decisions that put all of NightClan at risk. Even now, she'd yet to become familiar with her young medicine cat. Her ancient mentors had taught her that the relationship between a leader and her medicine cat should be close and respectful. They should work alongside each other, especially when it came to making decisions in leadership.

Featherpaw flicked the tip of her tail thoughtfully. Littlecloud also told me that NightClan has long struggled with leaders disregarding the stars, she remembered. Perhaps it was a matter she must cultivate on her own, something she needed to handle with care. The past isn't irrelevant, but it decides little about our future. That is up to ourselves and the stars.

The downpour continued, Featherpaw padding calmly through the sheets of rain.

Character; Featherpaw
Word count; 420 (lol blaze it)
Notes; the end

[Fawn]

THORNFLAME

18 Moons | NightClan | Tom | Warrior

Why a cat with fur as long as his would be out in this downpour was anyone’s guess. It wasn’t that he was simply toadbrained, had this been his rather optimistic (if not intellectually lacking) brother, Oakpaw, (sorry, Oakblaze) then no one would have had any questions at all. But this was Thornflame, the altogether cleverer and oldest of the trio, who also had a particular pet peeve about cleaning heavy, wet fur. It was why he felt an unusual disgust towards RainClan that had more to do with his abhorrence of their water-centered lifestyle than any actual Clan hostility, not that NightClan wasn’t at least somewhat justified in their hatred of RainClan after what had happened in recent events. Oakblaze had been at the epicenter of that catastrophic absurdity, but several moons had passed since then, and the quicker Thornflame could stop talking about it or stop receiving looks about it, the better. He continued on through the rain, pine needles soft and easily trampled as he made a steady path for camp. I’ll finish cleaning my pelt by moonrise, at this rate. The pearly white mountain range of teeth gripped a little tighter on the mouse than was necessary, expressing his displeasure physically in between the internalized, almost sulky remarks. Not expecting anyone to be out in this weather (unless caught, like him), Featherpaw’s familiar pale hide brought the sober march of buff limbs to a slow halt. What’s she doing out here? Collecting herbs? In this weather? Any other cat, and Thornflame would have snidely chuffed and walked on by without more than an acknowledging nod, considering them toadbrained for just wandering around getting wet, but Featherpaw was not just any cat. Thornflame set the mouse down, intending to break her of that troubled, pensive expression she’d been holding for the past couple of heartbeats. ”I hope you’re looking for a magical cure for whitecough,” he mewed in fine example of his slightly acerbic humor. ”Otherwise, my only other theory is you’ve decided to quit your position and become a frog.” Plop! Thornflame hissed under his breath as a rain drop plummeted straight into his ear canal and he flicked it harder than necessary, picking up the mouse and stepping under an overhanging frond, though he was already well and truly damp. They didn’t have much time to socialize, Featherpaw and himself. Her duties as the sole medicine cat of NightClan left her in a predicament that was as tricky as it was occupying, and he had given her the wide berth she needed to fulfill her role without the added distraction of trying to keep up a social life. That didn’t mean he didn’t miss spending time with her, however. Starlingcry as well, was less absent in his life than Featherpaw was, considering they shared the same den, but there was awkwardness with her as well. Thornflame had never gotten the chance to ask (he didn’t really want to) what either of them thought about the Oakblaze incident, and he wasn’t certain he wanted the answer. He could be mightily defensive of his siblings, and it was enough so that it could jeopardize his relationship with the only friends he’s ever had.

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OOC: I hope you don't mind me jumping in! I know this is supposed to be a Ravenstar/Featherpaw thread, but Raven said it'd be alright if I just sneaked Thornflame in there. Thornflame's post is based around the discussion we had (forever ago) about Starlingcry, Featherpaw and Thornflame all being friends. If you'd like me to change it, I certainly can.

[Deleted]

So lost in thought was Featherpaw that Thornflame's approach had all but gone unnoticed. Her focus returned to the realm of the living has the young warrior set down the mouse he'd been carrying, ears twitching as he spoke, flicking water. Thoughts of StarClan and of fate, and of all the work that laid before her, were laid aside as she suppressed a purr, forcing her features in to a stony, matter-of-fact expression. A picture of poise, everything about the medicine cat read that she was deeply unimpressed with his, uh, shenanigans.

"Perhaps I am," she mewed, lifting her head in mock indignation, her waterlogged tail waving in the air. "And perhaps I have." Crouching suddenly, she leaped in to the air, landing in a half-crouch before jumping forward again, the soggy earth shifting and squelching gently under her paws. Coming to a somewhat unstable halt, her nose a few mouse-lengths from Thornflame's, eyes burning in to his, she declared evenly, "Ribbit."

Character; Featherpaw
Word count; 162
Notes; ~

[Fawn]

THORNFLAME

18 Moons | NightClan | Tom | Warrior

"Ribbit." Even in a state of agitation due to the rain, Thornflame could laugh at her sense of humor. So this was why they were friends; occasionally she'd remind him of this with her witty retorts, or simply the way she handled his occasionally sharp-edged words as only Featherpaw could possibly handle them. He'd never had much respect for the Medicine Cat position, mainly because it had never been given much thought by him, same as the leadership and deputy positions; they simply were, but with Featherpaw in charge of the Clan's health and well-being, he actually felt himself reassured by this. She seemed capable, which was all they could ever ask of a medicine cat who was still very much an apprentice. "Alright, spill." He mewed after his laughter had subsided. "What's got you out here in this mess?" Ugh, he really did hate the rain sometimes. Thornflame again, tried to read the truth in her eyes, but the pale-toned she-cat had gained a certain aura of mystery ever since her connection to StarClan had been established, and Thornflame knew that his trying was more or less futile; the problems rattling around in her skull were probably beyond his scope of understanding, beyond his range of empathy or sympathy. It was a good thing she was the healer and he was not, Thornflame was certain he could not afforded as much compassion as the position likely needed. "Is it Medicine Cat stuff?" It must've been. Thornflame smiled a little to himself, watching her. Or maybe she really is trying to become a frog. He must've been spending too much time with his brother to have that kind of thought in his head, and Thornflame made a mental note to reacquaint himself with solitude, they'd fallen out of touch lately.

nimble