camp ALL THAT I COULD HEAR WERE FUCKING FLIES — poison safety

[BEESONG]

The medicine cat gathering...

It had been disastrous. Bonejaw, selfish enough to think that she decides her own fate. Cinderfrost and, more shockingly, Honeytwist, both so quick to resort to violence. Beesong must contain a shudder whenever he recalls the glint of claws beneath the half-moon. He thinks that Dawnglare and — perhaps, as it is too early to tell — Dandelionpaw, are the only sane ones left.

The only good thing that had come out of the gathering had been Cinderfrost's warning to advise their clanmates of the poisonous plants in the territory.

And Beesong sought to do just that, today. Prepare for the worst. If they could prevent a foolish kit or Clayfur from eating deathberries, they would. Even if the deadly plants nestled within the leaf bundle sets every nerve ablaze with the memories of his father's threats. A visual aid would help their clanmates identify the poisons easier. They would just have to suck it up and stop being dramatic.

Into camp, Beesong shuffles. It's inconspicuous, initially. The medicine cat often brings leaf bundles back from his walks. But as he places the leaf wrap on the ground, just outside his den, there is clearly something different about today. With one paw keeping the bundle closed, concealing the deadly contents inside for now, Beesong clears his throat. "Everyone!" Eyes lock onto him. His jaw clenches tighter. "I've got an important lesson for you all. I want anyone who can attend, especially kits and apprentices, to gather around. Oh, and Clayfur, too." His gaze seeks out the chocolate-furred tom, not intending to single him out but knowing that the other would need this lesson the most out of the warriors. (He has a bad habit of eating anything that could fit into his mouth, after all.)​

 

[Frostdrop.]

GOT A HEAD FULL OF SPIDERS​

---

Frostpaw had curiosities as to where Beesong went to during the half-moon since she did not pay all much attention, however, she did worry for the medicine cat's safety for going out, especially during midst of a time like this and yet while relaxing in the last rays of light her gaze lingered onto Beesong, who carried a suspicious leaf-bundle of something and Frostpaw allowed her curiosity to get the best of her. After all, she had spent more and more time in the medicine cat den be it that she was there to keep Raccoonpaw company or checking in on Houndsnarl or Lakepaw to also keep them company.

When they called for everyone to come and listen she was quick on her paws to move closer towards where everyone was gathered, ears perked wondering what had prompted the other to call for the clan's attention and most importantly, what was in that well-tucked leaf bundle that the other has yet decide to show. Her tail swished slightly before sitting down and curling her tail around her paws, straightening herself to pay attention to what the medicine cat had to say, it was a small lesson after all, right? Anything could be useful to make sure her friends were to stay safe in case Beesong could not get there in time, yet the other seemed to have great ability to appear whenever someone was in need of them.​

"speak""Thoughts"​

 

[willowroot]

( ☾ ) willowroot has never particularly had an interest in medicine. yes, she lives beside the river, and thus has experience with the water dwelling plants, but learning to heal has not ever crossed her mind. beesong is a brilliant medicine cat, having taken on the role with little verbal complaint. she respects him for that, knows that wherever he goes, there is a meaning for his action. on this particular overcast day, a voice echoes out over camp, summoning clanmates to the source for a lesson.

there's a worried curiosity in the verdant gaze as willowroot scans for the source of the voice. beesong stands, stern faced outside of their den, paw placed delicately upon a bundle of herbs. intrigue pulls the lead warrior to her paws, and she pads over, placing herself towards the back of the group. scenting the air, there is a sharp smell of herbs, something sour and unpleasant. knowing beesong, this lesson will be important. glancing around, she'll call for her apprentices. "ashpaw, steeppaw! come join us please!"

@tinyleafs @Steeppaw ​

( THE LIGHT YOU GAVE ME )

 

[ELMBREEZE]

Elmbreeze cannot claim to have ever had an affinity for medicine, nor has he ever had a desire to improve that knowledge. He knows some basics but his knowledge pales in comparison to that of the medicine cat.

When Beesong calls out for cats to gather, Elmbreeze comes to listen. It's not often that Beesong gives out lessons like this - in fact Elmbreeze can't remember a time at all - and he's curious to see what he'll bring up. Sitting on the ground, he curls a tail around his paws, and his eyes land on Beesong watching him intently as he began his lesson.​

 

[CICADASTAR]

− ♱ ABOUT : the call for attention meets ears at a relaxed half - mast, dozing eyes and quiet expression. the fact that it was beesong’s voice, however, seems to slit open frostbit eyes, pupils narrowing against the blistering light of sun overhead. there had been a time, long ago now, in which the mottled tom had been interested in herbal remedies and their more harmful counterparts — moons ago, when he’d not an idea of medicine cats or starclan. he still kept his flowers neat and tidy, harvesting and drying to decorate his den, and that was now the extent of his interest in herbs. cicadastar did not know the qualification it took, to be gazed upon by the stars above and taken down a path formerly unheard of. a path of mediation, of healing. and yet . .

images of cinderfrost flit behind thin eyelids, bringing his ears to a neat backward point as he rolls, stands to full, looming height. he wondered what it was that had caused the stars forgiveness — her many misdeeds, her wild, insane accusations. her unrepentance. he thinks of the time they’d shared with her in his camp and is unable to place the slight churn of nausea that wrenches through his stomach ; she believes she’s justified. she is a madwoman. he knows not of the attack, back on grounds sacred and blessed by the same divines that had appointed them — so he approached without weariness, gaze warm and encouraging towards the scarred cinnamon tabby. a lesson! he takes up a spot alongside willowroot, leaving room for their apprentices to duck in aside them, cranium tilting just slightly.

out of character information translations

• − CICADASTAR ; he / him. roughly thirty nine months old, riverclan leader
  − handsome, lanky black smoke tortie chimera with curly fur and icy blue eyes
  − gay. speaks with a thick german accent, former marsh cat, penned by antlers
  
  
• none.

​

​

 

[CLAYFUR]

Mmmm, berries. Clay’s favorite food just has to be berries. He’s always wanted to try those bright yellow ones, but someone once told him not to so he’s been too nervous to try them yet. But the purple and red and blue berries are all so tasty looking, he can’t resist shoving them in his mouth. They taste just as good as they look, too, which doesn’t really help his resistance.

He’s considering finding something else to eat—there was a particularly fluffy looking patch of moss he’d spotted earlier—when he hears Beesong’s call. The brown tabby trots over to sit with the crowd that’s gathered, settling a few tail-lengths away from everyone else. "I’m here," he mumbles through a mouthful of berries, ears pinned to his head. Guilty. He opens his mouth, and several multicolored berries fall out in a half-chewed glob. He swipes at the mushy mass with a paw, shoving it behind his tail and hopefully out of sight of the medic.
​

[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

Smokethroat was a quiet cat. When he spoke it was with a purpose and when spoken to first for the most part, but he had gotten much better at idle chitchat and enjoying the company of others; yet there was still a few things that were considered a rarity regarding his presence.
Beesong's call is met with an indifferent glance and he only joins to encourage his own two apprentice to listen in less he has to have a more prolonged discussion with the medicine cat later but it is the use of 'Clayfur' mingled among that of the young cats that draws out a muffled snort of amusement that he desperately tries to mask with a paw pushing against the side of his maw. The bard was quite the good warrior, a bit on the odd side but the dark tom had no problem with him outside a few instances of foolishness but to hear him so blatantly called out in a public spectacle had caught him offguard to earn a sound almost akin to a laugh that died in his throat.
Yet it would permitted to rise once more when he spotted, out of the corner of one sunset eye, the perpatraitor in question approach and sit down, mouth full and chewing and the literal second he saw the mash of berries roll from tabby's maw to the ground in a messy yet colorful display that was hastily mopped with a paw he lost it. Absolutely dissolved into peels of laughter.
All sense of refinement and stoicism left him, his mouth burst open with a distinct "HA" before he was doubled over in a light crouch, heaving between choked laughter and frantic attempts to stifle himself that left him sounding like a man dying and choking on his own breath.

​

 

[GLOOMPAW]

*:･ﾟ✧☁ ⋯ Gloomkit trots over at the call, struggling to avert her attention from the berries that fall out of Clayfur's mouth to the actual lesson. She's heard his reputation to eat just about anything, and honestly? She can totally understand it. Most cats pull her away from any berries, though, and lecture her not to eat any ointments on her fur.

What draws her finally to focus fully on Beesong is the leaf parcel he holds, regarding it curiously with a tilt of her head. Briefly, she wonders if they have something edible inside. Snacks put others on her good side, and she might have to bite their ankle off if it's something else.​

 

[iciclefang]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

The small tortoiseshell gazes with half-interested pale blue eyes at Beesong's little leaf bundle. A presentation, he says. An announcement. About leaves? She isn't a medicine cat, couldn't imagine being one, and she doesn't know what's so interesting that she needs to be here, but nonetheless, she is. She pads idly toward the group before sitting her mottled self close to Smokethroat and Frostpaw.

"What're you laughing at?" She mutters toward her mentor, before her gaze tightens on Clayfur and the mash of berries foaming out of his mouth. She frowns. Her uncle is just eating a snack. What's wrong with that?

- ,,​

​

 

[COAST]

At the call of Rosemary, he barely rips himself away from the spot hes sunbathing in, a yawn parting his lips. Hes standing there, not entirely interested and quite honestly just wanting to lay back down, his eyes are unfocused until he hears laughing from Wildfire, a brow quirking upwards. Mmm.... The scene isn't quite particularly funny, perhaps Smokethroat was lost in the mania of his duties, he shrugs his shoulders upwards.

Perhaps Coast is just becoming jaded.

"Fawn legs' just eatin some berries," their tone is light and airy, whimsical as always as he shakes out his pelt. "Don't yuck his yum, ya know?"
​

"speech"​

 

[TIDEFROST]

Tide doesn't know much about herbs. He doesn't know good leaves from bad, and hardly knows much about berries. Other than they taste good, of course.

Beesong calls for those nearby to gather. Something about a lesson. Perhaps Tide will finally learn the difference between round leaves and spiky leaves? Or maybe he'll learn about the cobweb obsession clan cats seemed to have?

He isn't sure what's to come, but the black smoke settles beside his sibling anyway. Beesong sits before the crowd, mysterious leaf-wrapped bundles separating the medicine cat from his audience. Frosty eyes are amusement filled as Clayfur approaches, as berries tumble to the ground, straight out of his jaws.

So many berries.

"Oh! Are we having a feast?" Tide asks suddenly, amidst Smokethroat's laughter. It would make sense, what with Beesong's leaf bundles and Clayfur's berries. "Should we all have brought something?" More berries, perhaps?
​

 

[HOUNDSTRIDE.]

( ᴛᴀɢs. )  ❝  Houndsnarl had always been a cautious creature. There are few stories of his that he'd be so interested in sharing, but he has stories abound somewhere in his chest. Those that he'd run rowdy with in his youth eating berries to fill a starving gut, and throwing up all that and more until their limbs caught a tremble. Rolling around in a patch of leaves only to find a fire settling in beneath his skin. Everything about this world seemed intent on violence, whether or not it said as much with its looks. He's learned to be wary. Beesong's knowledge has his respect in this way. Knowing what to shove in a wound an' knowing what to pull out– Hound could never imagine what it'd be like to command nature as their medic does. All skill lies elsewhere within his bones, in wrought-whip muscle and teeth meant for tearing. He wound himself 'round the world like a choking vine. Bee knew just where to cut it down.

It's out of this respect that he heeds his call. A strong crowd's growing. Curiosity simmers. The tabby tom settles off to the side, weight off the injured shoulder an' eyes quietly expectant, though amusement ruins the seriousness at Clayfur's berry-stained mouth. His face crinkles as his mouth curls up, head ducked low to halfway muffle a snort'f laughter. "Suppose there're times his yum should be yucked," he calls out to Coast, teasing mirth light on his tongue.

†  ooc notes information †

• 
  ooc: —
• ──── houndsnarl. trans male, he/him pronouns.
  ──── approximately 30 moons old, or 2.5 years.
  ──── bisexual with firm male preference; single.
  
  ──── a chocolate tabby with ( stylized ) low white and intense lime eyes. lean and lanky,  with whiplike musculature and a long, quick stride. hound's notable features include his impressive height, the long scar across the left side of his face from nose to jaw, his very deep, dense fur, and the confident manner with which he conducts himself.
• "speech"

​

 

[BEESONG]

Beesong's garnered quite a crowd. Each feline who approaches earns an approving hum, bobbed tail twitching in rhythm.

Except for Clayfur.

The long-legged tom mumbles something out of a mouth full, and Beesong's jaw clenches ever tighter; this is exactly why he'd called for Clayfur to attend. "What do you-" His controlled voice is interrupted by laughter somewhere in the crowd, and the saliva-coated mush of berries which slip from Clayfur's tongue. It plops onto the ground, swept aside by a paw. Beesong's stomach twists into a knot, and the small cinnamon tom is on his paws in an instant, pushing Clayfur away to examine the mush.

As foul as it was, Beesong sniffs at the slimy half-chewed berries.

They only relax once they've confirmed that it isn't anything poisonous, shaking their head and returning to their leaf bundle... "This is exactly why I've called you all here," Beesong's eyes meet Cicadastar's momentarily, before they duck their head with a clearing of their throat. Such high expectations weigh upon them, so high that even the leader looks to them for guidance, but they'd shoulder it with every last ounce of strength.

Unlike Bonejaw.

"There are dangerous plants out there, deadly enough to kill a warrior within a few heartbeats." Beesong shifts the leaf bundle to reveal the deathberries and nightshade, which Cinderfrost had warned them of. He avoids looking at the poisonous herbs. "These are called deathberries," Beesong points towards the red berries, and then, to the bell-shaped flowers. "And this is nightshade. Take a good look at them, memorize their appearance and smell, because you never want to ingest these. They are a couple of the poisonous herbs that you can find in our territory; eating them will have dire consequences that could result in death if not treated in time." Beesong stares at every face in front of him, imploring them to listen thoroughly. His eyes linger slightly longer on Clayfur. "I wouldn't suggest eating any plants without knowing what they are, actually."​

 

[Frostdrop.]

GOT A HEAD FULL OF SPIDERS​

---

Frostpaw's gaze landed on those who also joined, her mentor chuckling at Clayfur for eating unknown berries, and the others making comments about it or throwing their own muse at Clayfur's snack enjoying, except...Beesong, who was quick to examine the berries and then move on to explain their reasoning for the lesson, her gaze drifting to the bright red berries and the nightshade, examining both as she tried to memorize the looks of each plant. Deadly, got it but, "What if someone ate it? What can we do? Just in case, you know?" she asked Beesong with a worried curiosity. Surely, there was nothing to worry about but what if someone forgets and ate one, it was a good question, at least she hoped so, her gaze once again fixating on the other, surely others would ask the same question right, it wouldn't only be her, bi-color eyes flicking towards Iciclepaw and Smokethroat both also there, and she hope they too would agree to the young apprentice's question. ​

"speak""Thoughts"​

 

[CLAYFUR]

Smokethroat’s outburst of laughter causes Clay to laugh as well—though he shoots a glance at Beesong, hoping that the medicine cat hasn’t noticed the berry mush at his paws. Unfortunately it seems that the cinnamon cat’s attention has been drawn by the laughter—Clay blames Smoke for all of this—and the chocolate tabby sighs resignedly as Beesong makes their way over. Their shove sends Clay tripping dramatically over his own paws, and yeah, he’s playing it up a bit when he bumps into Smokethroat, but he thinks it’s deserved, just a bit.

Luckily, the medic seems annoyed but not too angry, and quickly returns to their spot to lecture the whole clan about something that’s definitely boring.

He stares at the berry that Beesong reveals and calls a deathberry. Aptly named, it seems to be, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary about it. It looks a lot like the berry he’d eaten the other day, actually. But he’d felt nothing different than normal, so hopefully that means he’s just, like, immune or something. He’s probably just eaten enough weird things that his body is resilient enough to withstand even deadly poisonous berries.

Once Beesong is done speaking and Frostpaw has asked her question, Clay decides to chime in. He levels the medic with a gold-flecked gaze that hopefully conveys nothing but seriousness. "I make no promises, but I’ll work on setting a better example. Especially with the plants that I eat." And he means it with his entire heart, but he knows that he’ll probably end up breaking his word by the end of the moon.
​

[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]​

​