[Phoenix]

Newtstripe

It was by pure chance that Newtstripe rounded this particular tree, and even as his heart broke at the sight that lay before him, he would be eternally glad that he did. Sprawled against the roots, a little brown body lay with a wing splayed at an awkward angle, and even from a distance, the young warrior could see the rapid rise and fall of is feathered chest as it breathed through its gaping beak. He froze when it spotted him, crouching down to make himself appear smaller and hopefully less frightening. Concern nearly overwhelmed him. The small fledgling was wounded and clearly terrified; it had no idea that he would much rather help it than harm it. Tentatively, he took a step forward, making a soft crooning noise. It tried to hop back, and he had to fight against every instinct that told him to rush forward and curl around the small creature such that it couldn’t exacerbate its injuries further.

”No, no, don’t do that.” What could possibly sound reassuring to a bird? He was not entirely sure, but he did his best. ”You’ll hurt yourself.” Slowly he inched forward until he lay completely on his stomach, chin resting on the uncomfortable forest floor as he found himself eye to eye with the little creature. ”It’s ok. I’m—I’m nice, see?” It stared at him warily, backed up against the root. He barely moved apart from what it took to talk. ”I don’t want to hurt you.” Tentatively, he sniffed at it, and then he had an idea – of course! How had he not thought of it before? Food! It was probably hungry. Surely it would trust him if he offered it something to eat.

Abruptly, Newtstripe leapt to his paws and sent the terrified bird careening backwards with a startled squawk. ”Sorry!” He whispered, even as he glanced around the area. Birds ate worms and insects. If he could find something – maybe even an ant, though that made him feel a little bad – perhaps he could somehow offer it to the his new friend. Occasionally casting a glance back toward the base of the tree, he was searching through the undergrowth for one of the creepy-crawlies that usually frequented those areas when a berry bush caught his eye. Did birds eat berries? But then he dismissed the thought almost instantly. No, it would probably be better to stick to insects in case that berry happened to be poisonous. Hmm, where to--?

Aha! With a triumphant grin and a silent apology to the sacrificial caterpillar, he returned with his catch to the injured bird, setting it down and impaling it (through the head, hoping that it would be a fast death) with a sharp claw before holding it up in a mimicry of what he had seen mother birds do for their young. A quick snap of the beak and it was gone, and Newtstripe beamed. ”See? That wasn’t so bad.” Then his eyes fell once more to the wing – it was definitely broken – and his smile fell. ”That probably hurts a lot. Maybe I can find you something?” Shadowpaw would probably know what would help with pain; the warrior could go ask him. But first he needed to make sure that his new little friend stayed safe, and voicing his concerns, he did his best to herd the young creature to a nearby bush. ”Stay there, alright? I’ll be right back.” Willing the bird to listen, he turned tail and sprinted back to NightClan’s camp as fast as he could.

Heads turned as he skidded to a halt in front of the medicine cat’s den, remembering just in time that he couldn’t simply barge in and ask for what he needed, no matter how much he wanted to. ”Uh,” Newtstripe started, staring at his paws. A thought struck him: what if they couldn’t help? Oh no, he hadn’t considered that possibility. Shadowpaw seemed like a nice cat. They hadn’t really interacted much, but he was always smiling. Surely he would have some herbs to spare. ”Something for pain,” He blurted before his mind had a chance to catch up with his mouth. ”And strength.” Belatedly: ”Please.” A pause, and then an anxious, ”Hurry.”

Fawn | background image

[Fawn]

curiosity is not a sin...

...but we should exercise caution with our curiosity

Shadowpaw

The languid, pleasant musings of a young tom devouring the last few bits of mouse were interrupted in - quite possibly - the worst way imagineable. An out of breath Clanmate with a pelt of bright ginger, appeared seemingly out of the blue, and Shadowpaw's mind already processed Newtstripe's anxious request even before he'd finished chewing.
Something for pain and something for strength!

The mouse remains were abandoned, and a dark-leather nose leafed through the assorted herbs in Smokefur's stores - grateful he had spent the other day keeping them sorted. "What's happened? Can they move?" Shadowpaw collected dandelion leaves for the pain, and set a sprig of chamomile on top of the tiny herb pile for strength and calm. He then bundled them up, tying them with a bit of vine he set aside for instances like these. "I will find cobwebs on the way. Please, take me to them." Smokefur was out. It's up to me to make sure they're safe. A nervous energy began to pool into Shadowpaw's heart, until it filled over and he found it hard to keep still, golden eyes - large and luminous as a dragonfly's - locking onto Newtstripe.

He had communed with StarClan the night before, and though the journey home had been long, Shadowpaw still rode the high, still felt the wonderment and awe of having met his ancestors. The half-moon gathering had also been the moment Shadowpaw stepped from the world of 'unofficial' to 'fully fledged apprentice'; at last, Smokefur had performed the rite to introduce him to StarClan, and he had pledged his whole being to the path of a medicine cat.

And not a moment too soon. Already, he had been tested. Shadowpaw knew he would be tested a thousand times more, but this didn't frighten him. Instead, with a look as adament to be helpful as it was determined not to let anything stop him, Shadowpaw prepared to face this new trial.

medicine cat apprentice of nightclan

Phoenix | jk rowling | background image | table by phoenix

[Phoenix]

Newtstripe

Suddenly, Shadowpaw was there before him, swallowing down the last piece of whatever he had just finished eating, and Newtstripe took a step back in surprise. In the next moment, he had disappeared deeper into the den, and as various leaves were picked through to find the right ones – perhaps he could figure it out for himself, so he wouldn’t have to keep coming back for help? – the strong scent of herbs filled the air and made him sneeze. Questions were tossed over his shoulder as he searched, and somewhat overwhelmed, Newtstripe found himself responding with vague answers: he wasn’t sure, and yes, they could move. The other tom moved with a haste that the young warrior found incredibly gratifying, and when Shadowpaw returned with a small bundle of herb wrapped in a piece of twine, he was prepared to offer his gratitude and make a hasty retreat. And then: “Please, take me to them.”

Newtstripe froze, staring blankly at the younger cat’s earnest expression as his mind froze, caught up entirely on the many reasons why that particular course of action was not possible. Shadowpaw only cared because he thought it was a cat; if he knew the herbs were going to a bird, he’d take them back in a heartbeat – that is, if he didn’t eat his little friend first. ”I- I-“ He uttered lamely, heart racing as he struggled with an explanation. Maybe if he could convince the other cat that no one was in immediate danger? ”It’s fine. I – just – the herbs, I need the herbs for... for something.” In his mind’s eye, he could see the little creature with the broken wing cowering against the root, and his heart ached. That wing looked like it hurt so much, and he every second he stood here with Shadowpaw was another second that it had to suffer. The bird was so exposed, too; he needed to get back before something bad happened to it.

Pale green eyes fell to the herbs at the medicine cat apprentice’s feet. Did he really have the time to try to argue? Before he could give it a second thought, he reached out a paw and rolled the bundle closer to himself in a swift movement, reaching down and picking up the herbs gently between this teeth. ”Sorry – it’s important. I gotta—“ And then he was off, ducking out of camp as if he hadn’t just snagged a bundle of herbs straight from beneath Shadowpaw’s nose. He would probably hear about it later, but there was a little bird who was in pain and was relying on him for relief. Paws flew over the ground as he retraced his steps, and much to his relief, the small creature was still there. It looked up at him as he slowed his approach.

”I told you I’d be back,” The warrior murmured softly, setting the bundle down and carefully unwrapping it to examine its contents. Shadowpaw was entirely forgotten as he nosed through the herbs and committed their scent and appearance to memory. ”Brought you something too.” With a warm smile on his face, he looked at the little thrush and nudged one of the leaves toward it. Wary curiosity evident in its manner, the creature pecked at it once before looking at him as though unimpressed at his offering. Newtstripe could relate; there was something entirely unpalatable about everything that could be found in the medicine cat’s den. ”I know, but it’ll be good for you.”

He cast a critical eye at the leaf before him and the others in the pile. They were meant to be eaten by a cat, so they were probably a little big for the other animal. With an unsheathed claw, he divided each leaf into bite-sized pieces and placed them before the bird again. It ate another one before giving him the same unimpressed look. ”Eat,” The warrior urged, even as he tried to remember what his mother had done when he and his sisters had been reluctant to eat anything. Oh! As the thought struck him, he turned and poked through the undergrowth until he found another insect – a little spider – and doing his best to hold both the spider and a piece of the leaf, he managed to get the bird to swallow another piece. Newtstripe sat back, ridiculously pleased. ”Alright,” He murmured. ”That’s how we’ll do it.” And so he turned to find another insect.

Fawn | background image

[Fawn]

curiosity is not a sin...

...but we should exercise caution with our curiosity

Shadowpaw

"Newtstripe wait--"

The ginger tom, with the tidy bundle of herbs in his teeth, had disappeared almost as quickly as he'd arrived. As if the warrior had left his shadow behind - so quick was his pace - the medicine cat's apprentice was left to blink slowly, trying to absorb what had just happened. Why did he take it and run? Suspicion wasn't the first sensation to spring to Shadowpaw's mind; instead, it was curiosity. Why would Newtstripe need these herbs? Why would Newtstripe be so hesitant to share the truth with him?

Shadowpaw was a little hurt that his Clanmate didn't trust him to be a neutral party with whatever it was. Maybe it's for a rogue? Or a cat from a different Clan? Hesitation grappled with the need to know what was going on. If it was a rogue or a neighboring Clan cat, he would be obligated to report his findings to Foxfern or Pinestar. However, they couldn't stop him from treating an injured cat who needed his attention, could they?

I swore an oath to StarClan...

A surruptitious glance around camp, and the subtle, eager twitch of his whiskers made up his mind for him. Shadowpaw, as quick and stealthy and unnoticed as his namesake, slipped out of NightClan's camp and into the open air. It was warm tonight, but the wind carried with it an energy that Shadowpaw didn't recognize immediately. Not until he looked at the sky, and saw the dark clouds on the horizon through the dense wall of pines.

Not much time until the storm arrives. What if Newtstripe was having difficulty? What if the injuries were worse than he'd anticipated? Shadowpaw renewed his focus, his jaws parting to pick up his Clanmate's scent. He could so easily picture a ginger tom fleeing through the woods as if the Dark Forest were chasing him - and that lent a sense of urgency to Shadowpaw's movements.

Detecting many scents - some among them thrush - Shadowpaw brushed away the unimportant ones like cobwebs blocking his path, and followed the one that was distinctly Newtstripe's. The scent of thrush got stronger, but this was no time for hunting.

”I know, but it’ll be good for you.”

That's Newtstripe's voice! Shadowpaw instinctively slowed, easing into a natural hunter's crouch though he had few chances to actually practice it. The ground here was dry, and the pine needles threatened to rustle under paw, so he crept ever so carefully. Hiding under a dense clump of ferns, Shadowpaw got a semi-clear view of Newtstripe looming over something small and brown.

Is that a--

The tom moved away, fetching something that Shadowpaw could not see. What was left in Newtstripe's wake was a... thrush. Why? He didn't think in terms of 'why isn't he eating it'. Or 'maybe he can't bring himself to finish it off'. Instead, Shadowpaw's first thought was of why did a bird need dandelion and chamomile leaves? Shadowpaw peered curiously, the ferns rustling a bit as he moved in to get a better look.

The bird's wing was obviously broken, and lay at an unnatural angle. Sympathy wrestled with logic in Shadowpaw's heart. Wouldn't it be better to put it out of its misery? And he hated to say it, but wouldn't that thrush be a good addition to the fresh kill pile?

Shadowpaw pressed himself flat to the earth as Newtstripe came back, and tenderly fed the bird - cleverly using a spider to make the leaf bit more palpable. Shadowpaw's heart softened. I can't...

He didn't want to frighten the bird or his Clanmate, so Shadowpaw left as quietly as he could, and sought out more chamomile.

After a few minutes, the medicine cat's apprentice returned with two fat black roots of chamomile, and slightly dirty paws. Shadowpaw waved his tail to Newtstripe when he was close enough that the young warrior might see him. Setting down the roots, Shadowpaw awkwardly cleared his throat. I've never healed a bird before...

"Chamomile helps with broken bones."

medicine cat apprentice of nightclan

Phoenix | jk rowling | background image | table by phoenix

[Phoenix]

Newtstripe

As focused as he was on feeding the bird the leaves piece by piece, Newtstripe was completely unaware of the bright golden eyes that peered out at him from a nearby cluster of ferns, so when he turned to collect another caterpillar only to find himself face to face with Shadowpaw, his heart skidded to a halt. Instinctively, he stepped to the side, intending to block the medicine cat apprentice’s view of the tiny creature in the vain hope that perhaps he hadn’t noticed it yet even as he tried to figure out the right words that could be used to justify being caught in the act – and then the other tom’s comment registered. Oh. He looked down and saw the two black roots at their feet. That was nice of Shadowpaw. Chamomile, He repeated to himself, instilling it in his mind. Broken bones. Ducking his head, he bent down to pick up the roots and turned toward the little bird behind him when the realization suddenly struck him: the other tom must have seen the thrush.

The chamomile fell from his mouth as alarm jolted through him, his urge to watch over his new charge warrior with the necessity of ensuring that the innocent creature would remain alive for him to watch over. Indecision saw him standing half turned between the pair of them, yearning to return his undivided attention to the bird while at the same time reluctant to turn his back on Shadowpaw because the other tom had made no promises that he wouldn’t harm it. There were cats, he knew, who would swallow his little friend with one bite and feel no remorse later. Maybe the other tom wasn’t one of those cats, but he hadn’t said… Aloud, he began to plead, tail lashing through the air anxiously. ”You-- You can’t hurt him,” He spoke quickly as he raised his eyes to stare just beyond Shadowpaw’s head. ”Please. He’s injured.” Willing him to understand, Newtstripe glanced back at the bird, heart welling up with emotion. ”I—I—“ I what? Have to help? Will fight to protect him?

Both.

Slowly, painfully aware of his feline companion even as he watched him out of the corner of his eye, the orange tabby picked up the roots again and turned to face his patient, carefully keeping his body between the little bird and his clan mate just in case. He took inventory. He had a few more leaf pieces and roots, and for a few moments, his mind spun aimlessly as it jumped between wondering how he could possibly feed the bird the tangled mess of roots and trying to recall what he had been doing before Shadowpaw’s unexpected appearance. Maybe if he tore those into smaller pieces as well and repeated what he had been doing with the – oh, that was it: caterpillar. Newtstripe took a step to the side and then froze, recalling exactly why he was hunched over the bird so oddly. The bird wouldn’t eat the herbs on its own, but he couldn’t move to find another insect in the undergrowth without exposing it to the medicine cat apprentice at his back.

A solution came to mind. Ears pivoted toward the other cat, he hesitantly requested, ”Can you find a caterpillar? Check the—“ With his tail, he gestured toward the nearby undergrowth. ”There. Please.”

Fawn | background image

[Fawn]

curiosity is not a sin...

...but we should exercise caution with our curiosity

Shadowpaw

Newtstripe stammered as if icicles had grown in his mind, and he was having trouble getting his thoughts into some semblance of order - Shadowpaw's appearance clearly distressing him. Shadowpaw wore a wincing smile, and raised one paw towards the other tom for walk. He gently laid it on Newtstripe's shoulder; a light touch, meant to be reassuring. "I'm not going to hurt the bird. I promise. It seems wrong," golden eyes darted to the wounded feathered creature, who seemed to be watching them both so intently. "Especially when you asked me to help."

Well, not directly. But Shadowpaw had become involved the instant Newtstripe had snatched up that bundle of herbs and ran. How could he simply turn the other way, and ignore the plights of others? Even if the others ended up being a bird with a broken wing, and a ginger tabby with a heart as soft as moss trying to take care of it.

Shadowpaw removed his paw and stepped back, giving the two creatures space. Hard to say who was more uncertain of his presence - Newtstripe or the bird? Shadowpaw's tail flicked and swayed with excess energy; he wanted to get closer, to actually see how bad the wing was, and if it would be possible to tie some twigs to it to help keep it stable - but he had to temper his curiosity with caution. With rationality.

I have to show them both that they can trust me. Though he itched to begin chewing up the chamomile roots to make it more palpable for the bird, Shadowpaw stayed where he was - frenetically trying to come up with a way to prove that he was trustworthy - until Newtstripe gave him the opportunity. With a gesture of his tail, the warrior directed Shadowpaw to search for caterpillars, which would undoubtedly be fed to the thrush.

With an agreeable nod, Shadowpaw turned and made short work reaching the bushes. As he nosed carefully through the greenery, he let his mind wander down the many twisting paths it usually took in situations he deemed unusual. Idle musing was the stuff of daydreams and free time; this was Shadowpaw's attempt at solving a puzzle. His mind could be as sharp as his claws, when he focused; finding a fat green caterpillar with black splotches on its back, Shadowpaw nipped the leaf it was on with his teeth, and carried it back to Newtstripe.

"I'll chew up the roots, so they're easier to swallow. Then we can mix the caterpillar with the roots?" Shadowpaw gently batted the caterpillar back onto the leaf when it tried to make a hasty escape for a nearby clump of ferns. "It's really important that it gets the chamomile. A bird must have a small belly, so if it gets full before it eats all the herbs, you'll have to wait until its hungry again."

I think. Shadowpaw was in uncharted territory, but rather than quell at the unexpected, he felt eager to see how this concluded. Eager to learn more. I never thought I'd test my skills on a bird, but any practice is good practice.

medicine cat apprentice of nightclan

Phoenix | jk rowling | background image | table by phoenix