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Post by Justice on Oct 8, 2016 13:12:16 GMT -5
Well wasn't this just peachy? She'd been randomly given the duty to watch over the medicine cat and his apprentice while they were out gathering herbs. Like Rookfrost, a grown tom, couldn't defend himself or something. They were all blind, little better than the prey they ate each day. Their esteemed medicine cat was nowhere close to helpless. He was, as she so affectionately liked to put it, a 'true predator'. Someone that got things done, no one able to stop him. She admired him very much, and him she didn't mind spending time with. It was his apprentice she had trouble with. It was so hard to be nice, to act 'normal' when all she wanted to do was be herself around one of the few cats that would truly understand her. After all, he was like her. She thought so anyway, having observed him many a time. Burying a dead cat, even if it had been at Cherrypool's behest, and not telling anyone about it had to make him different. Well, she'd find out. There were ways, after all, to ask without revealing herself. So, like the patient she-cat she'd learned to be, Whitesparrow waited. Waited until she was by herself with Rookfrost, when her tiny paws would be of use to getting to hard to get items that the larger tom wouldn't be able to reach. In this case, she dug her paw into a wet patch that was down between two stones where she saw a white blossomed plant. Water Hemlock, excellent. “Interesting, that its still warm enough for something so simple to grow.” She knew it was poisonous, of course. She batted it hard towards where she could see some rabbits grazing on the plentiful grasses. “Simple, but ultimately..” She waited a moment, fascinated as one of the rabbits nibbled on the edge of the poisonous plant before it realized what it was eating. The symptoms set in almost immediately, and she watched as the stupid creature fell to the ground and started convulsing violently. Its fellows seemed to try and sooth it, but then one of them sniffed what its fellow had eaten and the whole group ran. The sick rabbit started foaming bloody froth from its mouth while the she-cat just watched. After another few moments it squealed horribly then went limp. “Ultimately deadly.” Tag : Fawn |
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Post by Fawn on Oct 9, 2016 14:05:14 GMT -5
ROOKFROST He thought little of his so called Clanmates. Seventy-four moons of living, breathing and eating alongside them all did not improve his loyalties by so much as an ounce. If it was not mandatory to learn some of their names, Rookfrost undoubtedly would have addressed each and everyone as ‘you’ when applicable.
There were a few, however, who made it difficult to forget their names, even to the well organized mind that preferred to discard useless ‘rubbish’ from his memory the way a healer would throw away stale herbs.
Whitesparrow took a clawful of water hemlock, and Rookfrost recognized at once the plant’s properties--as well as the devastating effects it could have on the body of a living creature. With a bundle of watermint clamped between his fangs, the jet black healer could offer no word of warning or even an explanation as to what she had unearthed--but ultimately, this was not necessary.
Whitesparrow flung the water hemlock to an unsuspecting group of rabbits nibbling the last of autumn’s clovers; Rookfrost set down the watermint, watching with chilling intensity as one of the rabbits took a bite of the hemlock’s leaves. If Whitesparrow was hoping to see a gruesome show, then she would have to be patient; Rookfrost knew better than most that while the leaves were toxic when ingested, the true poison lied in the plant’s roots.
Sure enough, one of the rabbits bit in near the roots; mere heartbeats later, as it reached its threshold for the powerful toxic brown liquid that seeped out of the hemlock, the rabbit started convulsing. The unnerving cries of pain as it choked and writhed were unpleasant to Rookfrost’s ears; he turned away from the sight, uninterested in the unexpected torture of a rabbit.
”Bury it, before a stupid apprentice thinks to add it to the fresh kill pile.” Rookfrost commanded coldly, icy gray eyes taking in Whitesparrow’s appearance, noticing now the shadows that seemed to wreathe her intentions, casting a cold light upon her usual kindness that reminded him eerily of Whiteshade. ”And wash your claws when you are finished.”
Unless, of course, she wished to end up like that rabbit. I am Death none can excel, I'll open the door to heaven or hell 5/31 Words Used! |
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Post by Justice on Oct 10, 2016 15:51:51 GMT -5
"Before your stupid apprentice more like." She muttered as she daintily went over to the deceased rabbit and buried it. Like she'd really leave it there, she knew better. Poison was something she was fascinated by, so she knew the effects. But seeing as he'd told her what to do she did so, washing her paws in the water despite the chill then shaking them dry before rejoining him on a drier perch. Well, it seemed she hadn't impressed him with her knowledge of the deadly plant. Drat. Now, what more could be done? Of course, there was the chance he'd simply seen her for what she was and was choosing to ignore it. Maybe his apprentice was closer than she thought the other cat was? "There, I'm clean." And she didn't groom her paws either. Best to wait awhile, wash her paws again at least twice before daring to groom herself. Yep, she knew her poisons. So she tried a different tactic. "Did you know that there used to be poisonous mushrooms that grew in the nursery." When she'd been a kit she'd found one and given it to a playmate, which had begun her love affair with dangerous plants. Idle chatter was more her presented self's thing than her true self's, but it worked all the same. "Have you ever seen them?" She wondered how observant he was, and in a way was poking at his knowledge as a medicine cat. The mushrooms she thought of had a bright red top, white spots, and smelled like rotting fish as they dried. Fawn
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Post by Fawn on Oct 11, 2016 12:47:34 GMT -5
ROOKFROST Rookfrost tied the bundle of watermint together with a long reed stalk, one black ear swiveling to catch Whitesparrow's words. As a personal rule, Rookfrost did not go into the nursery unless someone or several mewling someones were dying; he despised kittings. Not for the ushering in of new life into the Clan--an ultimately necessary process for the Clan's survival, as well as one of the few things his Clanmates seemed incapable of messing up--but for the reactions of the queens, their life-partners, and any additional family members that saw fit to hover and needle him with irritating questions throughout the entire ordeal.
Poisonous mushrooms, however, were one of the few things in the valley that could turn his head. Curiosity gnawing at him, Rookfrost's gaze drew level with hers; no, he had not heard mention of any poisonous mushrooms in the nursery. "Describe them." From what he knew of fungi and some of their properties, there were a variety of highly toxic mushrooms growing in this valley. He'd once discovered the stiff corpse of a rabbit lying near a colony of toadstools; it did not take a genius intellect to determine what had happened.
That one such variety had been propagating inside the nursery was news to him; Rookfrost looked at Whitesparrow fully, searching his memory banks for any relevant information he'd managed to hold on to all these moons. She was older than him by a rough estimation of 12 moons; his parents likely hadn't even been officially life-partners by the time she was born. The mushrooms she spoke of must have been from her infancy days, which explained why he had not been aware of this information.
"Were there casualties?" Rookfrost questioned, itching to know what kind of volatile reaction cats would have had to that fungus; did it take higher doses to kill larger cats, like with most poisons? Were the death throes similar to the kind that he normally associated with water hemlock? It was difficult to gauge how much information Whitesparrow was witholding. There was a temptation to probe her thoughts, discover the depths of her knowledge on the subject, but Rookfrost always ran the risk of discovery should he let his... morbid fascinations get the better of him.
I am Death none can excel, I'll open the door to heaven or hell |
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Post by Justice on Oct 11, 2016 21:27:50 GMT -5
She had him. The she-cat smiled internally at his question and took a breath and let it out before answering. "They range in size from being about acorn size to the size of a squirrel, and in color from light yellow to a cardinal red and are splattered with small white spots. The stalks are true white." She wanted him to ask her about them, wanted to see how curious he'd get, if he'd ask where in the dens she'd seen them, where in the nursery. His question on casualties made her hidden smile a true one, if only for a moment.
"I seem to recall a young apprentice dying after consuming one, but she was on the small side. I imagine it would be lethal to a kit." She knew what they did, what the symptoms presented as, and how long it took for someone to get very sick. "Each time I've seen it the medicine cat always managed to fix things, at least after that one apprentice." She did not say that she'd seen it cause a miscarriage in an extremely small queen. No need to bring that up, it was well before his time. Nor did she say that the apprentice that had died had been hers. She'd played the distraught mentor, of course, but ultimately the little she-cat hadn't made it through.
"Most cats mistaken it for something more benign, only the smell will give it away."
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Post by Fawn on Oct 13, 2016 17:56:33 GMT -5
ROOKFROST Grizzledclaw had made no mention of these mushrooms Whitesparrow spoke of. That did not mean they did not exist; rather, it meant that the old dead tom did not know everything, such as Rookfrost had long-ago suspected. "Show me."
If questioned about his intensity for the subject matter, Rookfrost had every intention of declaring it the role of a medicine cat to have an advanced knowledge of poisons and healing herbs, as well as to know their locations at all times. Fungi needed wet, damp earth to thrive in; they were excellent decomposers, though they lacked the pleasing aesthetic of flowers. This did not surprise him; maggots, worms, fungi, ants--they were all tasked with a simple but important role in life--that of decomposition. They were as vital to a healthy forest as the bees or birds were, which pollinated flowers and spread seeds from one area to the next.
Maggots, worms and fungi did not come with gossamer wings or excessive ornamentation. They did not need it. Rookfrost could respect the simplicity of it.
"The patients were made to vomit, were they not? Or were they treated with a herb meant to neutralize the poison?" Would the idiocy of his fellow felines ever cease to amaze him? If they had such a pungent, unpleasant aroma, how a cat could compel themselves to eat one -- even on a dare -- was well below Rookfrost's level of comprehension. He could not bring himself down to that level, not even if he wanted to.
Rookfrost's thoughts turned to the tunnels woven like veins through LightningClan's moorland; it was entirely possible there were pockets of these mushrooms thriving underground. He had little interest in tunnels. He had little interest in wandering around in the dark, running the risk fo entrapment should an entrance or a wall prove particularly unstable. The prospect of exploring the tunnels did not fill him with trepidation, more like short-tempered exasperation, as if frustrated with the inconvenience of it all. I am Death none can excel, I'll open the door to heaven or hell |
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Post by Justice on Oct 14, 2016 13:13:21 GMT -5
Show him? Weren't they supposed to be gathering herbs right now? Oooh, somebody was forgetting what he was doing. Of course, poisonous anything was bound to catch a cat's attention, especially one that grew in the nursery. "As you wish." She dipped her head and flicked her tail as she rose, going to wash her paws for the second time before coming back to the medicine cat. The trip wouldn't take long, but they wouldn't be totally alone once they got back to camp either. "Do you recall a large stone, shoved in the far ends of the nursery? We tell kits not to mess with it, that the tunnel is collapsed. In reality, some of the warriors moved that stone there some moons back because the mushrooms grow back there. There's a large opening, a place where kits could play if not for the assortment of mushrooms that don't stay gone even after they are pulled up."As they made the trip she kept talking, answering his question about what had been done. "The mushrooms, once ingested, cause a cat to go into a catatonic sleep for something close to three nights, sometimes more. They burn with fever and chills alternatively, and there is no waking them. So yes, they were induced to vomit, and monitored. Really, a grown cat with some measure of common sense wouldn't eat them at all. Personally, I think if a cat is stupid enough to eat something that is going to make them sick, without being told to by a medicine cat, then perhaps its best if they don't survive." She shrugged. "Is that unkind of me to think?"The familiar paths and scents of home permeated the scent of their outlying territory, and she knew they'd be home soon. Well, time to act the normal warrior again. She put on a pleasant mask and greeted the guards as they came into camp, never once breaking stride. She knew the queens would be surprised to see Rookfrost in the nursery since no one was sick or injured, but that wasn't her concern. Whitesparrow brought him deeper into the caves than most went anymore, with this tunnel closed off. Finally, they'd come to the rock she spoke of, and a low snort escaped her. "Great plan, blocking the tunnel. Except the mushrooms are starting to grow off the stone now." Which they were, soon they'd spread back into the nursery itself. Fawn |
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Post by Fawn on Oct 15, 2016 8:56:59 GMT -5
ROOKFROST Carrying the watermint bundle in his mouth prevented him from replying immediately. That did not prove to be an issue, however, as Whitesparrow readily told him what he wanted to know, including the unique effects of the mushrooms on the living.
"The mushrooms, once ingested, cause a cat to go into a catatonic sleep for something close to three nights, sometimes more. They burn with fever and chills alternatively, and there is no waking them. So yes, they were induced to vomit, and monitored."
Rookfrost's mind burned over the possibilities, and there was a certain convenience over these highly toxic fungii growing in the nursery, of all places. Where had they been when Dovesong's irritating offspring had been birthed? Blazefang surely would have eaten one on a dare. Blazefang and Gustclaw both. These were fleeting thoughts in the vast, churning ocean of his mind, and there was a peculiar, unearthly gleam in the medicine cat's eyes as he briefly stepped away from her (upon their return) to deposit the watermint in his den.
Reappearing, as Rookfrost stepped back out of the fox den that was the medicine cat's place of rest, he began to see Whitesparrow for what she was. Her knowledge of the poison's effects, her willingness to discuss them. It was all very telling, like scar tissue; only it was not her scars, but rather, the scars in her past that had been inflicted upon others.
Understanding dawned upon him, and he felt a sense of unease briefly envelope him, such as the first time he had come to understand Whiteshade. It was merely an inherent survival trait that had been trained to react to unpredictable, intelligent predators, but Rookfrost considered it a nuisance. He was not truly afraid. Intrigued.
After seventy-four moons, there existed another cat in the Clan that shared his philosophy regarding feline stupidity and whether or not they deserved to live, to learn from their errors.
Rookfrost ignored the strange looks they were getting as they investigated the blocked tunnel; his senses opening up, he was bludgeoned with the strong scent of damp earth, mustiness and yes, mushrooms. His first thought, perhaps a true indication of how little he thought of his Clanmates and his role as 'healer', was that they looked beautiful. They were not aesthetically pleasing, not in the traditional sense, but Rookfrost did not have a traditional mind. They were beautiful for their properties, not the spots and the conspicuous choice of colors, ranging from yellow to white just as Whitesparrow had said.
It would be the mark of a good medicine cat to inform Firestar of the mushrooms, and that the nursery would have to be moved to prevent incident. Yet Rookfrost said nothing, nor did he retreat; he stepped closer, familiarizing himself with the scent. "You have an interest in poisons," Rookfrost remarked in his cold, clipped voice, which echoed into the remainder of the tunnel. "You have witnessed the properties of this plant up close. What is its name?"
I am Death none can excel, I'll open the door to heaven or hell |
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Post by Justice on Oct 15, 2016 12:55:17 GMT -5
"An unhealthy fascination, as my mother used to say." Though the half smile on her face said she didn't agree. "I've always felt it was in my personal best interest to know what dangerous things grew in the world around me. Curiously, this particular mushroom, if licked rather than eaten, is a great cure for insomnia. Since it induces a deep sleep." Or catatonic state. Either way, she thought it was restful. Was it courting her own death to have licked the mushroom as a young apprentice to see what would happen if she did so? She wasn't stupid enough to eat it, but what could one little lick have hurt? And, as she discovered, it wasn't harmful if used that way. When asked for a name she looked sideways at him, completely pleased with his interest in her little plants and her knowledge of them. "Its commonly referred to as the Redfish Mushroom, due to the color and scent." Was she being helpful to the esteemed Rookfrost? She thought she was. Though he had no way of knowing this, he was absolutely safe from her machinations, from her need to cause chaos in the world and cats around her. He was safe, she'd even protect him if she had to, because he was like her. Having a kindred spirit meant everything to someone that had been in hiding of who she truly was for her entire life. "They are prolific in spreading themselves as well. I imagine, if we were to open the tunnel, it would be filled with them by now since no one has been trying to keep them at bay." She wondered, if she asked him, if he'd want to move the stone and see just how many of the mushrooms had grown in the moons since the tunnel was sealed off. Or, she'd move the stone, so that she could see his face when he got a look at them all. She was sure, just from how the mushrooms were pushing at the stone, that there were enough to kill the entire clan in one go. Every warrior, queen, and kit. FawnNotes : Whitesparrow is scaring me right now XD |
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Post by Fawn on Oct 18, 2016 12:29:04 GMT -5
ROOKFROST "Its commonly referred to as the Redfish Mushroom, due to the color and scent."
Yes, that much he could glean. Oh, Clan cats and their ability to attribute names to the flora and fauna in their surroundings was... obnoxious, sometimes. It was a miracle rabbits weren't referred to as 'not-cats', or 'tallears'. Clan cats loved stating the obvious. If he had a death berry for every time he came across a kit or apprentice with an all-too-obvious name, he could've killed Firestar, Kindleflare, Redscar and half the apprentices by now with a few left over.
There was no pleasing him, when it came to names. He abhorred the overly poetic names, and scorned the blatantly obvious. Until he could examine the properties of the redfish mushroom for himself, he would let the name slide; he would have preferred something a bit more telling, like bloodspots (if it caused the coughing up of blood), or sleeper, for it's ability to induce a coma as Whitesparrow put it.
"How far does the tunnel go?" If these mushrooms were indeed as prolific as Whitesparrow said, Rookfrost's interest lied in determining how well they had propagated in roughly 70 moons' time. Questions began to line themselves up neatly in the tom's analytical mind, and he approached them in an orderly fashion; were the mushrooms invasive? Have they filled the tunnel at the expense of any other common fungi? Could they be found above-ground? Which contained the most poison: the caps or the stems?
Rookfrost examined them delicately. "And the stems? Poisonous?" He would need to find a way to safely harvest two or three, and then transport them without causing serious harm to himself. Kindleflare and/or Firestar would likely have questions for him if he returned to his den with highly dangerous mushrooms, but he was prepared to dismiss their concerns.
He was a medicine cat. Plants were his area of expertise. If the mushroom had any beneficial properties, then it was in the best interest of the Clan that he discover them. It was about as trustworthy a statement as a drooling fox, but Firestar would have no choice but to accept it; he was not beholden to the Code quite like the rest of his .... Clanmates were. And besides, only he would know that he had a greater investment in the corpses these mushrooms would produce than any healing properties. I am Death none can excel, I'll open the door to heaven or hell |
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Post by Justice on Oct 23, 2016 22:20:51 GMT -5
"The same distance as from here to Firestar's den." It was a decent size, big enough for young kits to play around in with relative ease. It pleased her to have his attention, and she was going to soak it up while she had the chance. After all, how often did she get to talk about something like this with someone that really understood the value of the knowledge? "The stems are fine, except for where it touches the underside of the cap. Easiest way I've found to deal with them is to knock them over then pick them up by the bottom." She shrugged, looking at the stone consideringly for a long moment. "Found that out when I had to help clear them out the last time." And that had been such a pain in her backside. She'd wanted to see what else the mushrooms could do, how many cats they'd get to if left for the unwary or uninformed. But noooooo...they just had to get rid of them. Well, now there wasn't any getting rid of them. "Would you care for a better look at the mushrooms?" She asked him politely, tipping her head to regard the medicine cat. "I can move the stone by myself if you'd like." Fawn |
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Post by Fawn on Oct 25, 2016 13:19:20 GMT -5
ROOKFROST She spoke the answers to questions he had yet to propose, with an almost unnerving intuition. They were alike, united by fascination for the fatal specimens of the naturl world; Rookfrost regarded her quietly, the same as any other apex predator would another.
"Found that out when I had to help clear them out the last time."
Doubt flared across Rookfrost's mind like a jarring reflection of sunlight on a frozen river. Had her experience truly come from 'fulfilling orders' from the deputy, or had she dabbled here, on her own? She knew very much for one who wore the guise of normalcy so well. It was no stretch of Rookfrost's imagination to see Whitesparrow creeping into this tunnel, turning frightful intentions upon the redfish mushrooms, with their devilish appearance and revolting stench.
At her offer to move the rock, a curt nod was all she earned from the black healer, Rookfrost taking a few short steps back to give Whitesparrow space to maneuver. Rookfrost was never one to call out another on their morality or lackthereof. Whitesparrow was an outlier, like him; like Whiteshade, like Rookfrost. As with all things in the same animal or plant family, there were recognizeable traits - a lack of compassion, shallow emotional range, and a deliberate disregard for the sanctity of life - but even in the same family, there were different varieties.
The phrase 'to each their own' applied here.
He would collect two samples. There was no great need to gather much more than this; even if Firestar should discover this small but horrific cache of 'death plants' growing in the nursery, Whitesparrow's account of the fungi being difficult to kill was a small reassurance that they would return. But you will not. Said the cold voice of logic, the kind detached from his burning desire to survive, that could state the truth plainly. Something must be done about his condition. Perhaps the answer would lie in these mushrooms? Rookfrost did not 'hope' on grounds of nothing, he preferred to hypothesize. Rookfrost would hypothesize that the redfish mushroom's undiscovered properties would potentially yield beneficial results for those such as he who have been stricken with an unknown, incurable ailment.
Rookfrost made the quick decision to find Whiteshade, after he and Whitesparrow were finished with their lesson in horticultural horrors. If he was to find a cure, he was going to need test subjects. my name is Death and the end is here 4/31 words used: Revolting, Unnerving, Devilish, Frightful. |
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Post by Justice on Oct 29, 2016 20:09:03 GMT -5
The white she-cat flicked her ears and went to the rock, a slight grin on her features that was less than pleasant. It really made her happy, having someone appreciate and understand her particular....interests. The stone was no matter, though it had taken two big toms and herself to move it into place originally. Time and the damp had made it slick and it rolled with only a moderate amount of effort from herself. It landed against the far wall with a jarring thud that made debris fall from overhead for a moment before things settled down again. What lay inside made her blue eyes widen with a dark sort of joy. The tunnel was filled with the mushrooms in various states of growth, each available space filled with the lethal plants. She lashed her tail behind her as she took in the sight. She had been right, there were enough mushrooms here to bring total chaos to the clan. Now that sounded like a marvelous idea. Of course, there was no way she'd be able to pull it off. There were enough warriors, older warriors, that remembered the last time these mushrooms had been loose in the clan, and the sickness and death they had the potential to bring with them. Whitesparrow moved to the side to present the healer with the sight, a pleased grin across her face. He was cold, a different sort of predator than herself. Still, she wanted to have some indication that he was pleased with this discovery. Anything really, would suffice. She wasn't fussy. Fawn |
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Post by Fawn on Oct 30, 2016 16:58:14 GMT -5
ROOKFROST The expression on Whitesparrow's face was bloodcurdling. No, not the expression - the readible glee written upon her face as if there were nothing she would enjoy more than putting those mushrooms to good use. Revealing a veritable treasure hoard of the poisonous fungi, Rookfrost's ears pricked forward with genuine interest, his precise steps carrying him closer to the potent plants.
There were as many as the eyes could see, prolific in this cavern that lacked sunlight but not the nutrients needed to grow. Rookfrost surmised that the original owners of this tunnel - rabbits, foxes perhaps - had died, and it was over their corpses that these fungi had grown, converting the remains into sustinance for an untold number of moons.
Rookfrost took a closer look at the soil, scraping a paw over the dark, peaty earth.
"It would seem," intoned the black healer, "that we have an invasive species." There was something like respect in his voice for the resilience of plantlife, and he felt a certain appreciation for the decomposers especially. She seemed to be watching him, waiting for his reaction - or perhaps his approval.
Rookfrost's ears twitched, and he withdrew from the mushrooms, his thoughts circling like vultures around the undoubtedly gruesome effects of the mushrooms. Yet... he often found, where there was poison, so too could there be healing. It was entirely plausible these mushrooms had beneficial properties yet to be discovered.
"Well done. I require three - one smaller than the paw, and two larger."
Enlisting her assistance with the removal of the fungi, Rookfrost selected the smallest of his immediate vicinity; remembering sharply her words about avoiding the undersides of the caps, Rookfrost raised a paw and pushed the mushroom over, bending the stalk until it broke. With little interest in sinking his teeth into something he hadn't fully explored yet, the tom found a small stone with a sharp enough edge, and severed the mushroom the rest of the way. With care, he gathered the tattered end in his teeth, feeling the dirt scrape against his whiskers as he lifted his head, backing away with his prize. The stench was enough to make his stomach dry heave, and he held his breath while he carried it out of the nursery.
my name is Death and the end is here Halloween Words Used: Gruesome, Bloodcurdling 2/31 |
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Post by Justice on Oct 31, 2016 15:26:07 GMT -5
The white she-cat beamed at the healer and bounced forward, more than happy to do as he bid her. She waded through the mass of mushrooms, not the least bit worried about them contaminating her fur. She'd go jump in the brook later and wash it off. After all, unlike her unfortunate mother, she could swim. It'd be cold, but better than offing herself accidently from these mushrooms. Besides, it would deter the queens from trying to greet her in any sort of affectionate way. After all, they knew the smell for what it was, at least some of them would remember from their kithoods or have been told. Whitesparrow was specific in which mushrooms she pushed over. One was the largest she could find, nearly the size of herself or at least as tall, and the other was between that size and the one Rookfrost had chosen. She bore her weight on the big one first, hearing it make a deflating sound before it came free from the earth. She chose to pick it up where it was still attached to the ground, clumps of soil falling from it while she drug it over and plopped it at the entrance before gathering the other. These she rolled together with her paws. "One moment." She told Rookfrost before disappearing in a dash out the front of hte nursery, returning a few moments later with a large leaf. She wasn't sure what sort, just that it smelled better than the mushrooms and it was large enough to wrap them in and safely carry all the two big ones she'd gotten at once. "For the sake of our noses." She'd fetched two, the other being nudged over towards the medicine cat for his use if he wanted it. She didn't expect his thanks. Especially since she'd done it entirely for the selfish reason that she couldn't stand the stench any longer. And being in the tunnel with them would have made her stomach heave if she hadn't held her breath. Fawn |
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