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Post by Whisptail on Jan 16, 2013 23:19:46 GMT -5
Twistedleg rolled his eyes with a light huff at the she-cat's reprimanding. He gave Snowcricket a shake of the head as if he disapproved of her snapping at him, but if anything, he enjoyed it. Most of the time, cats would either treat him as if he were no good, or with too much respect. It aggravated him more than often, yet he had gotten used to handling such situations.
The tom-cat, now a dark silhouette, let his glowing orbs scan the area. Although it was dark, he could just make out some white spot seemingly floating just off the tree line. Could that be the yarrow? Without a word, the medicine cat hobbled over to the plant and began examining it.
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Post by SpIdEr on Jan 18, 2013 13:44:23 GMT -5
Well, if he was looking for a cat who wasn't going to treat him any differently, he certainly had found her. Snowcricket not only didn't care that his leg was missing, half the time she barely noticed. Of course, if she were to lose her leg, everyone would know about it and have to deal with it. But it wasn't her problem, so she didn't really care.
Seeing him trot off, she perked her ears forward, wondering if he'd found it, and she padded after him, her small white paws getting slick with muck once again, causing her nose to wrinkle a bit. "There!" She said, flicking her tail a bit proudly, nodding to the plant and then to him. "That's it right there." |
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Post by Whisptail on Jan 19, 2013 16:49:44 GMT -5
Twistedleg let his nose course over the plant. It smelled generally like yarrow, but the murk made it hard to distinguish it from the scents around. Turning his head back to Snowcricket, the tom mewed, "Are you certain?" It wasn't that he mistrusted the young female before him, it was the way the flower heads were slightly different than the medicine cat was used to.
Instead of there being one flower head holding multiple little white flowers at the top of each stalk, there were three stalks that actually had more than one cluster. This was a common attribute to water hemlock, a very dangerous plant that grew in almost any terrain holding water. A plant that could kill even the strongest warrior with just a small amount.
The brown tabby, tom-cat sighed. It being so dark, who could tell? The only way he knew he could distinguish the two apart at this point would be the leaves, but the night sky didn't provide enough light. Not to mention how the murk and mud masked the scent too much for comfort.
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Post by SpIdEr on Jan 22, 2013 23:45:02 GMT -5
"Well, I'm not a medicine cat..." She said, sounding almost a little embarrassed... but she was CERTAIN that it was the plant he was talking about. She watched him examine the plant, wondering why in the name of Starclan he was being so picky about it. Couldn't he just pick it and examine it in the morning or something? Clearly he wasn't a thinker, and she shook her head a bit.
"But you are. Why can't you tell what it is? I thought this was your calling, or something." She snorted, padding up to him and looking at the plant as well, though she didn't do much - she was no medic. "What happens if this isn't the plant? Is there something wrong with it if it isn't?" She was starting to look a little concerned, even if there wasn't anything exceedingly nerve-wracking going on - but his worry was transferring. |
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Post by Whisptail on Jan 23, 2013 17:15:44 GMT -5
The tom continued to examine the plant believed to be yarrow for a few moments more before leaning back with a huff and sitting on his brown haunches. Why did it have to be so dark out? Couldn't there just be a full moon shining in the sky 'guiding' his path around this muddy, murk-filled marsh? No, of course not. If that were the case, he wouldn't be out here looking for herbs. Instead, Twistedleg would be at a gathering listening to the leaders announce things.
His wishful thinking was interrupted by the white she-cat's jibbing mew. "I'll have you know; being a medicine cat wasn't- isn't my calling. I was forced into it with nowhere else to go. If I wanted to serve my clan, this was my only option. Unlike queens, who can at least provide the clan with kits." He retorted, slightly hurt, before answering her in a calmer and slightly emotionless tone, "If this isn't yarrow, then it can only be water hemlock. A very dangerous plant ready to kill even the strongest of warriors. Almost every cat that ingests it dies."
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Post by SpIdEr on Jan 25, 2013 20:25:07 GMT -5
When he replied to her snub she looked away, a bit embarrassed at the low blow she had dealt him and just nodded, not really knowing what to say to that. She knew - she'd heard his story before, and she felt a wave of guilt hit her as she sat down a little stubbornly. He'd saved her life more than a few times, the least she could do was cut him some slack, as much as she hated doing that.
"Well.. Then... Maybe we should wait until morning then." She suggested, shuffling her paws a bit uncomfortably on the cold soggy ground, avoiding eye contact as she did so. "To check it out I mean..." |
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Post by Whisptail on Jan 26, 2013 14:01:39 GMT -5
The brown tabby face gave way to no emotion being felt inside, but Twistedleg had indeed been caught off-guard by Snowcricket's seemingly sudden flash of guilt. He was starting to wonder what else there was about this female he could learn by simply going out. With a nod of his head, the male mewed in response to her slightly hesitant sounding suggestion, "Yes, that would be best, as I do believe this is water hemlock and not yarrow. The stalks are too.. Different." he finished.
Giving another nod, the medicine cat stood, shaking out his pelt just for the sake of it. He would wait for her response and what-not before continuing on to camp. Suddenly, the thought his him; what if that really was yarrow? What would Snowcricket have to say about that? He would hate to be wrong in any case, but this she-cat was one he knew to be quite fond of mistakes like this. And, if he was wrong, he would certainly hear about it for a long time to come. Although, he couldn't help but find humor in the thought that the half-van female might make these sort of things into elder's stories when she joined their ranks.
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Post by SpIdEr on Jan 29, 2013 13:52:56 GMT -5
She nodded in agreement with his decision and got to her paws again, white ears swiveling in agitation. She was certain it was yarrow though. She knew the smell of water hemlock, if only from spending time around it near the giant Cypress tree as an apprentice, and she knew that she had smelled a different scent earlier in the day. Now however, as the temperature dropped and the plants slept for the night, the aroma was lost and it was impossible to tell.
Still, she was sure of it.
"Anyway, we should get back." She said with a bit of disdain, but then slid a smile his way, flicking her black tail playfully. "They'll think we're up to something." She chirped a laugh and trotted away, musing to herself as she went, but still certain it war yarrow, whether he said it was or not.
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Post by Whisptail on Jan 30, 2013 17:26:53 GMT -5
The brown male shrugged inwardly at seeing the black tailed she-cat edge back into agitation. This time, it wouldn't bother him in the slightest, as he was still prickly from earlier. Most things didn't usually bother Twistedleg, and when they did, it was often easy for the tom-cat to hide his feelings in it. After all, it did no good for a medicine cat to become upset. But when his 'job' in the clan was put as if it was his path, or desire, it had a tendency to bring out a feeling in him he strongly disliked.
As Snowcricket spoke and padded off, her sudden smile almost throwing off the male's thoughts, the three-legged feline hobbled after her. Up to something? I'm a senior aged medicine cat with three legs and she's a young and beautiful she-cat with unique markings. What could they possibly think we're getting up to. The tabby jibbed bitterly in his mind. Anything more than duty didn't seem likely for him, and to imply anything otherwise, whatever exactly it was the white she-cat had been meaning, seemed off topic and sarcastic in a way.
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Post by SpIdEr on Feb 4, 2013 12:14:12 GMT -5
Feeling his irritation rolling off of him, Snowcricket slowed her pace to fall into step beside him, her ears back a bit, whiskers twitching. "I was joking, you know." She muttered, realizing he was taking her lighthearted banter to heart. "You should know me well enough not to take anything I say seriously." She huffed, her black tail dropping to hover above the ground as they traveled at his pace. "In total I've probably spend over a few moons in your den. I know I act like a pain but that's just the way I am I guess." She grumbled, flicking her ears further back, her agitation radiating again. "And I'm... sorry." She managed to cough out a bit, looking over at him with her blue eyes. "About what I said about medicine being your calling. I know it wasn't. I wasn't thinking."
She silenced herself and sped up a little bit, trotting toward the camp as they drew near, raising her black banner once again. Her emotions toward the hobbling medicine cat were... confusing. He had taken care of her multiple times, and while her grandfather had raised her, she had spent a lot if time in Twistedleg's den with him as well. In a way, the two of them were like a pair of parents to her... but. Maybe not. She shook her head and padded into the camp, her eyes gazing around almost nervously.
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Post by Whisptail on Feb 8, 2013 12:06:08 GMT -5
When the female slowed her pace to meet his, the first thing Twistedleg noticed were her laid back ears and twitching whiskers. He expected her to speak as she usually did and cause his ears to meet another bout of words he really wasn't in the mood to hear. But instead, Snowcricket seemed to be apologizing. Even if in a roundabout kind of way.
His face remained stern even though the medicine cat was listening. His expression wasn't angry, only serious. When the she-cat had finished speaking, the brown tabby opened his maw, about to reply, but was cut off as she padded forward, closer to camp. With that, he stopped himself from mewing and shut his mouth, leaving the two in silence save the crouching of foliage under-paw.
He knew she was sorry, he could tell by her tone. And he knew she hadn't meant what she had said earlier. Twistedleg had known that then, when she had spoken. But he couldn't have helped the feelings and emotions; the memories that evaded his heart and mind, causing him to remember what he had to give up those many moons ago. It still hurt him to know he would never be a warrior, never fight more than an illness. He was a Waterclan cat for Starclan's sake. They were one of the hardest of the four clans, yet he was one of the most helpless cat's around.
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Post by SpIdEr on Feb 14, 2013 15:21:14 GMT -5
Snowcricket knew he was about to answer, but... she just couldn't handle anything else as her mind swirled with the thoughts of her kithood. Damnit Twistedleg... She thought to herself as she slowed in the middle of camp, waiting for him to catch up, lifting a dainty white paw to her mouth. Her black tail was bristling slightly, and while her whiskers were still twitching irritably, the fur on her back had smoothed out a little by now, though the cool night breeze was ruffling her beautiful coat.
She looked at him with her blue eyes for a moment, almost seeming to gaze at him before padding over and landing a rough lick on his cheek. "I'm sorry." She murmured again, turning to walk toward the warriors den, her black tail curled at the tip as it hovered above the ground. "Come find me tomorrow and we'll see who's right about that stupid plant, eh?" She called over her shoulder as she turned in for the night, flicking her tail almost alluringly as she slipped inside the den, her black tip vanishing from sight.
Feeling a little more safe in the darkness of the den, she curled up next to her clanmates, though it was a long while before her mind would quiet and let her slip into a nice dreamless sleep. |
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