[Fawn]

curiosity is not a sin...

...but we should exercise caution with our curiosity

Shadowchaser

Despite winter being a time for solitude and stillness throughout the forest, Shadowchaser felt an uncharacteristic restlessness. With no herbs to collect and the threat of greencough stalking his thoughts like a malignant crow, Shadowchaser found himself awake more than usual. The chestnut-furred tom had always been slender-framed, possessing his mother's lithe form though with a height between Echobreeze's and Hollowcry's; with the slight prey shortage that always took place in leafbare, he was looking even skinnier.

This didn't bother him. Shadowchaser's guilty pleasure was sleep; he loved to indulge in a good long nap when he could spare it. His role as a healer had built up his selfless nature enough that he felt it acceptable to go a bit hungry from time to time. There were apprentices and kits, queens and elders who all needed looking-after. Let them have an extra mouthful.

Wishing for a season that had not yet come to pass, Shadowchaser tried to pass the time with good company. Anything to distract his idle paws and bored mind. "I'm going to take a walk along the borders," said Shadowchaser to the introverted ginger tom, Newtstripe, near the camp's entrance. "Would you like to come with me?" They hadn't spoken nearly as often as he would have liked. To be truthful, Shadowchaser hoped they could become friends beyond being caretakers for injured birds.

Luminous golden eyes rested on his peer, Shadowchaser's patience worn in his posture like a second layer of fur. He'd be disappointed with a refusal, but that couldn't be helped. Newtstripe may very well have plans of his own that Shadowchaser was intruding upon.

medicine cat of nightclan

Phoenix | jk rowling | background image | table by phoenix

[Phoenix]

Newtstripe

Leaf-bare was just as hard on the forest creatures whom he called friends as it was on the felines who made up his clan, so he ventured out to their little hidey-holes and shelters quite often to check up on them, pleased every time he saw little footprints around their burrows and dreading the day when he might find instead a splash of red on the snow. As of today, thankfully, that day had not yet come to pass. With the days having reached their shortest and starting to lengthen once more, Newtstripe knew that there would be less than half of the season to go before he could start looking forward to warmer weather. Which wasn’t to say that he did not consider leaf-bare entirely uninteresting, for he did enjoy seeing the forest transformed into an entirely different land during the colder moons. Snowfall changed everything; not only did it make it easier for him to see what animals had crossed his path, but when freshly fallen, it gave the forest an otherworldly sort of appearance.

Admittedly, it also made him look forward to returning to his warm nest that much more. Even when the wind died down, he had discovered that the cold had a way of seeping into his bones and hooking its icy claws into his gut. The comfort of his nest in the corner of the den did not entirely defrost him at the end of the day, but it certainly helped.

When Shadowchaser caught him at the entrance of camp, he had only the intention of filling his empty nest in mind, but the familiar voice and invitation caught him off guard. Pale green eyes flicked upward from their examination of the ground as he turned to see the dark colored tom standing beside him. Though he hadn’t known it at the time, what had started as a mission to save the wing of a little wood thrush had also planted the seeds for a new friendship with NightClan’s medicine cat apprentice. Shadowchaser’s willingness to treat – and even name! – Feathers had forever earned him a spot in Newtstripe’s heart, for there were many who would have just as easily snapped the bird’s neck that day rather than feed it caterpillars. And after a few moons of tentative ice breaking, he had found that he quite enjoyed the other tom’s company.

If anyone else had asked him to abandon the prospect of his comfortable nest and head back out into the forest, his answer would have been a negative. But this was Shadowchaser; this was his friend. ”Oh, of-of course,” The orange tabby mewed, finding, much to his own surprise, that he was not lying. ”Haven’t seen you in a while. H-how’ve you been?” He did genuinely want to join the other tom on his walk and to spend time with him. Even if it meant his paws stayed a little cold a little longer.

Fawn | background image

[Fawn]

curiosity is not a sin...

...but we should exercise caution with our curiosity

Shadowchaser

To Shadowchaser's delight, Newtstripe readily agreed to join him. They were only two moons apart - with the ginger tom being slightly ahead of him - and Shadowchaser's thoughts, which often liked to mull over the possibilities, wondered what it would have been like to grow up a warrior alongside Newtstripe. They most certainly would have been good friends; he was certain of that.

However, the largely solo endeavor of being a medicine cat's apprentice had left him little time for friends - his closest social circle tended to be his mentor, Smokefur, and his kin, who could often be handful enough. So now they were tentatively reaching the point in their interaction where they could call each other friend, even if it had taken longer than it would have if Shadowchaser's path in life had been the same.

Shadowchaser smiled, glancing to the tom's ginger paws as they carried him back out into the cold. "I'm apologize, you must want to be in your nest right now. The walk will be brief, then." There was an awkward politeness about Newtstripe that gave Shadowchaser the impression that if the tom was physically uncomfortable, he wouldn't outright complain about it.

Possibly a result of being shy, and having more outgoing (but far less supportive) sisters.

Taking in the fresh, cool scent of leafbare, the itch in Shadowchaser's paws began to relieve itself. And while he got his bearings in the snowy terrain - StarClan, the chill was a little more penetrating than he'd expected - Shadowchaser had to consider how much he could tell Newtstripe. How have you been? Was a loaded question, to a medicine cat. He longed to talk about Pinewhisker's condition, but he prided himself on not chatting idly about very serious topics with any cat that showed an interest. If Newtstripe had sounded concerned, that would be a different matter.

It wasn't his usual choice for conversation, but Shadowchaser chose to avoid any patient-specifics and speak of himself. "Truthfully? Restless. I'm thankful there has been only mild cases of sniffling and sneezing throughout camp, but all this free time to myself--" Shadowchaser slowly shook his head, "--it makes me feel a tad useless. I think it would be smart to brush up on my hunting, to do what I can for the Clan while the plants are all asleep."

medicine cat of nightclan

Phoenix | jk rowling | background image | table by phoenix

[Phoenix]

Newtstripe

It was as if Shadowchaser could read his mind; astute as ever, the other tom must have picked up on something that had given Newtstripe away, and he could feel himself flushing at his companion’s apology. Shaking his head, the orange tabby hastened to reassure the medicine cat with a slightly flustered, ”No – no, it’s fine. I-I don’t mind.“ Like an afterthought that was just now beginning to take form, the following words came a little quieter as he tested them on his tongue: ”It’s nice getting to spend time with you.” He didn’t say them that often; his woodland creatures didn’t understand what he was saying, and his clan mates didn’t understand him in other ways.

Out of the corner of his eye, the warrior watched his friend as they walked. There was a short period of silence – had he said something wrong? He thought the question was one that friends normally asked each other – as Shadowchaser seemed to ponder his answer, but any concerns about a negative response Newtstripe might have developed in the interim were dashed by what he heard. ”You’re not useless,” He blurted, eyes wide as he surprised himself with the force behind the words. It was his turn to hesitate as he tried to figure out how to salvage the situation. ”I-I mean. Yeah.” Perhaps he should just shut up now.

If the darker tom wanted hunting advice, however, he had to know that he had come to the wrong cat. Easily distracted from what he was supposed to be doing – or even more often avoiding camp in favor of the comforting solitude of the woods and thus managing to miss out on patrol assignments – Newtstripe was not a very dutiful warrior, but he was even worse at hunting. Eating meat he could reconcile with himself, for the poor creature had already been killed and it would only be worse if it went to waste. But actively doing the killing himself… He would never be able to hunt birds without thinking of Feathers or target frogs without thinking of the new-leaf that he’d spent watching tadpoles grow their legs.

Surely Shadowchaser knew that, right? But what if he didn’t? What if he truly wanted hunting advice? ”I-I can’t h-help you hunt,” He said quietly, tail tip flicking as he watched their paws. ”S-sorry.”

Fawn | background image

[Fawn]

curiosity is not a sin...

...but we should exercise caution with our curiosity

Shadowchaser

Shadowchaser felt warmth rush to his face and ears as Newtstripe adamently countered his own self-deprecating confession. He smiled, uncertain how best to thank Newtstripe for coming to his defense so sincerely. "Thank you," said the medicine cat, overwhelmed by the urge to press his nose into his friend's neck. Was that too forward? Was that to intimate a gesture? Especially for a budding friendship. "It's good to hear someone say it, that isn't part of my family. I think they're a little biased." Shadowchaser hummed a laugh; yes, his sisters and his mother were his biggest supporters.

It was wonderful, and sometimes burdensome due to the fear of disappointing them someday but for the most part - Shadowchaser hoped to see himself through their eyes whenever he was feeling poorly about himself. Fortunately, that wasn't often. The conversation took a turn towards hunting, and Shadowchaser was acutely aware of having made Newtstripe uncomfortable with the topic choice. "I wasn't asking for help, Newtstripe," mewed the healer, laying the end of his tail over the ginger tom's back. "It would be nice to hunt with you, but not if it's going to be too upsetting."

Cats hunted. Cats had to kill prey to survive. It was the way of things, yet despite knowing this, Shadowchaser could feel empathy for Newtstripe's plight. Did he feel about all the creatures the way they had felt about Feathers? The fresh kill pile must have been a nightmare to walk by, for so gentle a soul as Newtstripe. "I imagine it's difficult," Shadowchaser mewed thoughtfully, quiet and respectful. "Hunting. It helps me to thank StarClan after each catch, and knowing that the prey will not go to waste."

Would that make it any easier to deliver the killing blow? No. But it soothed some of the coldness of it. Necessity could be an unkind thing.

medicine cat of nightclan

Phoenix | jk rowling | background image