DEATH AND TAXES \ medicine cat meeting

[BERRYHEART]

Light pulsing, beckoning- even alone, this might have been a nice break from the bustle of ThunderClan's camp. Traversing to the moonstone these months was a pleasant journey, if not one Berryheart always had to take slow. Should he rush too much, he put himself at risk of suffering a bout of breathing problems- so early did he set off, letting his paws guide him as his mind wandered. Sunset and Shady resided within the nursery, and the knowledge that their kitting would be a soon-to-come thing played on his mind more often than it should. Or perhaps precisely as often as it should.

Kitting came with dangers, he knew that much. And it was his job to prevent those dangers- yet, not the tiniest iota of knowledge resided within his head save for biting upon a stick. Peepers had delivered kits before- as had Bear-tail. Odd-eyes he knew not of, and Pebbles and Stormy were young enough that it was a fair wager they had never witnessed such a thing. Each one of them held knowledge hostage, likely- but ThunderClan and himself had managed mostly to stave away a negative reputation. Besides... one had said he would offer aid. The rest- well, different perspectives would always be valued.

First to arrive, he sat within the cave allowing the light to flood his pupils, and his mind to wander. Thoughts skipped like stones- his father, the queens, what he might do. There was no shame in asking to be educated, he concluded. And really, it was not asking for much. No cat should wish the death of another, but much less that of a kitting queen and possibly her offspring. "Hello," he offered as the rest of the healers began to filter in, giving each a nod of acknowledgement as they settled. Well- almost each of them. Odd-eyes had been... ousted from his position, as Needles had so pridefully announced at the Gathering. But neither was his replacement anywhere to be seen; had he too been expelled? ​

[ PENNED BY PIN ]​

 

[Starlingheart]

There is still so much that Starlingheart doesn’t know, so much knowledge that has yet to be unlocked, and she’s certain they have the missing pieces. It’s what brings her to this meeting tonight, although her bones feel as heavy as her eyes. Sleep was a rare commodity when your clan-mates and your brother were dying in front of you. She’s just glad that she had found a way to stop it, although the solution came a little too late for some of the less-fortunate marsh dwellers. She thinks of Rainshade now, mourns her silently as a cat she couldn’t save.

The journey is long but her thoughts are troubled and before she knows it she’s coming into the cave where the medicine cats gather every moon. She almost didn’t come, almost shrugged it away with the excuse that her brother needed her, or Granitepaw. Two equally important toms in her life that were injured and that she had failed. They suffered because of her lack of knowledge. She needs to know more if she is to help them better.

Her green eyes find the ThunderClan medicine cats blue ones in the dim light and she dips her head to him. She wants to ask him question after question, an unrelenting force spewed from her mind through her tongue but she refrains. But only because she doesn’t know what to even ask. She does not know what he knows so instead she says tentatively "I- thi-this moon I- I le-learned that uhm that burd-bu-bu-burdock roooot is uhm good for for rat bites and in-infections" her voice echos lightly off the cave walls. She is hoping that this shared knowledge will open a gateway for others to share some of their own, lest they keep greedily hoarding it away.
​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Tonight, the moon sings with promise. Dedicated, dutiful, he steps with a purpose, his apprentice in tow. The lingering of a sneer fixes itself upon his face. A cruel grin split only by the bite of his teeth upon his lip. Conflicting emotionl, both externally, and not. Oh, he regrets to say that his ideals are not all so pure. There's excitement there, yes, wonderous and all. Firefly's first contact lies ahead, the clearest picture of Her grace he would ever hope to see for the time being. His own eyes sparkle with the thought. Presenting his pupil, lighting his paws upon the path. The eagerness in Dawnglare's step is hardly concealed. The stars in his eyes could be mistaken for natural moonlight. Mother's mouth yawns ahead, and she's eager to swallow them whole.

There's mutual feeling there, of course. He gave himself wholey to her, both in body and in mind. But his smile stretches with more than adoration. There's a familiar gnawing in the back of his skull. The rise of fur upon his neck. Oh, how he ached to see the pitiful faces of Windclan. Their old healer has been overthrown, and so quickly replaced according to The Moorland Wretch. He could only imagine the newcomer holds but a scrap of knowledge to their name. How would a face that Sootstar prefers appear, other than mangy and flea-bitten? A coward, encouraging this petty theft, whilst staying safe and tucked within their own nook. Dawnglare thinks it only fair that they bleed for their crimes.

Oh what, he wonders, had that little one done to so suddenly earn the ire of one as wretched as her? He'd like to ask the thing himself. Take a dollop of his blood, smear it across the lies he sews...

Though, the scent of Windclan is strangely lacking, aside from the markings of their territory... Vindicative soul lies trapped beneath he eyes, nontheless. Barely, barely contained, frenzied eyes stare on ahead. Pupils blow wide when set upon her gaping jaw. Sudden twitch; his tail spikes, smile widens but a fraction. "Shhh, shhhhh," His voice is a low chant, nevermind if Firefly had even been talking, the point must be made either way. "Quiet, in their domain. If Windclan calls to you, do not answer," He pushes forward, beckoning for them to follow with a flourish of his tail. "Shadowclan is perhaps as untrustworthy... but perhaps they may keep the rights to their blood..." It's partly a question, rumbled low in his throat as tongue swipes across teeth.

Her heart shines ahead of them, bright as ever, a light that will never die out. Fluttering heart; a chittering giggle slips through his lips before it's swallowed down along with spit. He emerges, shifting white against the moon. "Hello," Widened gaze flits to the freckled tom, and further to the molly stinking of rot. Her words go in one ear and out the other with a flicker. There's a moment of pause, before he speaks. "Your friends are hiding, hm?" A whitened smile only curls further. Claws click against the ground. "Guilty... good." Satisfaction purred, though the intensity in his eyes never lessens.

Without moving his head, he looks to Fireflypaw. "I have someone here to meet you all." The child is beckoned with a flick of his tail. His smile reaches his eyes. "My pupil, Fireflypaw." He blinks.​

 

[Fireflyglow]

Traveling through the territories to reach Mother's hold was the longest trip he'd ever taken in his short lifespan. By the time that they had made it, Fireflypaw's feet ached with use but no complaint left the complacent acolyte's lips. Eyes narrowed ever slightly, thankful for the darkness of the forest that kissed his sensitive little hues. Sight wasn't needed to worship Her, for she was visible even to the blind; her beauty stood out in scents, in sounds. The whooshing of wind, the whistling of grass during newleaf. Lucky, lucky were the ones who didn't have to traverse through the slippery grounds, still frozen from chilly nights. His eyes flick upwards, blurry vision taking in the pale curl of lips oh so familiar. His own wobbles, pulling upwards in his own attempt at a wry grin.

Shh, The high priest demands silence, and Fireflypaw obliges gratefully. He aches to meet these medicine cats, to see his uncle again- was Uncle Berry healthy? Was he angry at Firefly, like Burnpaw and Moonpaw and Raccoontail are? Did he hate him? Quiet, in their domain. If Windclan calls to you, do not answer, Dawnglare heeds him with a warning, solid advice in Firefly's mind. Why would he want anything to do with the cats that caused Dawnglare's scar? That caused his father to lose a life? That put Grandpa Morningbird in the condition he is in now? As soon as they dip through the mouth of Her embrace, the light of the moon hits the surface and it glows such a beautiful color and despite it's beauty, aquamarine hues shut close quickly- a wince barely audible. So pretty, yet so bright- such a shame. They arrive in time for him to catch the tail-end of Starlingheart's words, speaking of infections. His head swivels to Dawnglare's direction, wondering if he'd ask more questions- but he doesn't. Instead, he speaks of mistrust and cackles his opinion on WindClan's medicine cats. "Is it normal, to miss this gathering?" Fireflypaw asks the high priest, searching for answers. "To refuse Her, like they have?" Karma will come, misfortune befalling on those who forsake Her glory, her gifts to them. They are star-assigned, and yet it is up to Her if they make it through hard times, was it not? His voice is soft against the echo of the walls, but he catches the scent of his uncle all too sudden.

"Uncle?" He calls out to Berryheart, his expression shifting to one of relief- he was okay, that's good. Fi considers walking over, pushing his head into his uncle's chest and wishing him good will. He wants to, but he can't. He settles for a softened expression, tucked into Dawnglare's side as if seeking an anchor. He's nervous, he notices. His legs are shaking, ears are swiveling like crazy to catch any small sounds. One, two, three- his paw taps. Agonizing. One, two- no. One, two, three, four. Good. A paw reaches up, adjusting the mint stems behind his ear. They were tucked in tight, but it didn't hurt to check. "I hope you're faring well. Leafbare has done much damage to all of us, has it not?" He graces them with a smile, shining and toothy- warm. He's happy to be here, to be apart of something greater than himself- to make a change, no matter how small. But his paws feel so big in such a vast place, kissed by Her holiness.

He thinks back to Starlingheart's words, filing away the name of the herb in his brain. Burdock Root. Infections. Rat bites. He hums softly, a mental reminder to inform Dawnglare should it come up in the future. They could figure the rest out themselves, couldn't they? He was no genius, not at all. He could take a chance. His face turns to the stuttering ShadowClan healer, head raised high in confidence- ebbing down by the minute. "What does it smell like, this Burdock Root? Dawnglare, have you heard of it?" It's a complicated question, he knows. He wouldn't be able to find it himself, probably- not without Dawnglare's help. He would never go searching for something he doesn't know of himself, something the high priest doesn't approve of. Still, the information is filed into the back of his mind for later. It doesn't hurt to know, doesn't hurt to keep it to himself until Dawnglare needs it. He could be good, he could behave- be obedient, and smile for those around him. Those who need it most.

The talks cease, Dawnglare introduces him to the cats present. His pupil, he says. A spark of pride lights up in his chest, Firefly licking his chest fur in embarrassment. I wish mom was here to see me, I miss her. He thinks to himself sadly, ears swiveling back against his head. A claw clicks to the stone, bringing him back to reality. He smiles towards the medicine cats present, the cats to come soon. "It's nice to meet all of you properly." He meows in response, lackluster- he wishes he could show more of his excitement, but with the long travel, he can't seem to muster up the energy to with his exhaustion grasping a hold of him. "What.. What do we do here, Dawnglare?" He asks, breathless.​

 

[BEESONG]

beesong's paws have become no stranger to the path he follows beneath the half-moon. it is one that he often travels with apprehension creeping up his spine, and his habitual humming does little to ease this knot in his stomach. last time, there had been a promise of bloodshed that kissed the wind. none of them had known it, then... still, finding blame in his own actions, or lack thereof, has always come naturally to beesong. he should've told dawnglare to warn blazestar of dandelionwish's request, and of the potential threat that lurked within sootstar's greed. he'd had no way of knowing what would happen, then. but it seems so obvious to him, now, after windclan had already laid claim to skyclan's herb store.

they don't want to see windclan again. they don't want to be reminded of the skyclan blood that stained their paws, or their inability to protect their home- their old home. beesong's responsibilities have never cared for what they want, though, so they trudge through snow until the yawning entrance of mothermouth is before them and they can slip into the darkness beside gloompaw.

by some funny twist of fate, the scent of windclan is stale. nearly indistinguishable beneath the much stronger smell of the other three clans. as they expect, dandelionwish is not there... held hostage by sootstar, and beesong wonders if he'd ever make it out alive. would sootstar allow him to leave without a fight, after so many of her exiles have fled to riverclan to spill her secrets? beesong and dandelionwish had never been close, had hardly been anything other than acquaintances, really. but they don't wish the young tom dead.

and vulturemask, windclan's new medicine cat... he isn't here, either, and beesong doesn't know what to make of the absence. did he not want to come? or did sootstar banish him from attending? it's hard to take a guess, when he's never even seen the other before.

the other medicine cats have already gathered as beesong steps into the illuminated cavern, cinnamon fur tinged in pale blue. the second thing that beesong notices after windclan's absence, is the presence of another skyclanner. a young seal point tom, with scars speckling his dark face like stars in the night sky. before dawnglare's even introduced him as his pupil, beesong guesses that fireflypaw is skyclan's new medicine cat apprentice. one of blazestar's kits, right? it sounds correct in his head, so he assumes it must be true. it would explain fireflypaw's size... so young, yet he's already taller than beesong. (that isn't a very difficult feat to accomplish, though.)

beesong nods in fireflypaw's direction, a cool friendliness in the gesture. "i'm beesong," they return the greeting, a practiced nicety that is monotonous in its frequent delivery. small talk has never been a strong suit, nor particularly interesting...

starlingheart announces that she's discovered burdock root heals rat bites, as well as infections. beesong looks in her direction, but says nothing. expression impassive as they store the information away in their brain. burdock root for rat bites and infection... it doesn't grow in riverclan's territory, but any knowledge is welcomed. unknown to them, starlingheart expects their own knowledge to be shared in exchange. they're tight-lipped as ever, though- not out of a desire to hoard information from the others, but out of the belief that if someone needs that information, they'll ask first.

dawnglare turns to starlingheart, accusing her friends of hiding out of guilt. beesong hums, and tilts his head. i don't think that sootstar's capable of guilt... and if her chosen medicine cat is anything like her, he won't be, either. "maybe," is what beesong decides on saying. oh, well... have they lost anything from windclan not showing face tonight? beesong thinks not. ​

 

[BERRYHEART]

The rest of the medics entered, exchanging words both aside and aloud. Accompanying Peepers was one he had not expected to see, but not a face unwelcome; no, catching his gaze was the unmistakeable sight of his nephew, a feline who brought a tiny flicker of surprise to Berryheart's gaze. A look upon his speckled face that many of his colleagues would not have seen before was fondness, but it subtly lightened his expression as he was greeted cheerily by the name Uncle. "Sootypaws," he chimed, dipping his head in greeting. "I'm fine, and glad to see you." Perhaps not the most loving of displays, but he spoke nothing if not plainly. Though his tone stayed as level as ever, there was the slightest lilt to it- happiness that shone its light through his voice.

Vision flickered to Pebbles as she spoke, giving news of recent findings. Good- she set a precedent here for sharing, and he had arrived with an intent to pursue more. His attention seized, he nodded in silent thanks as she gave her discovery freely. Burdock was a plant he was thankfully familiar with, and though he held the answer to Sootypaws' question he thought it respectful to allow Peepers to give the teaching to his own apprentice. It would be out of line to imply he knew better, after all.

WindClan's absence seemed not to bother the majority- Bear-tail gave almost-agreement to Peepers' judgement, something close but not-quite. A slow blink overtook Berryheart's olive-hued gaze, a deep breath moving through his lungs and dropping his shoulders. A lean tail moved to cover his trio of white-toed paws. He doubted WindClan held what he sought, given their recent herb-raid... half-heartedly, Berryheart's ear flicked to the suggestion of guilt. Embarrassment, perhaps. He had long forgotten the name of Odd-eyes' replacement, but there was a possibility he had been a part of the attack.

Never mind them. If the medic of the moors had decided himself above their knowledge, or simply felt ashamed to show his face, then so be it. Such a new addition, he would not hold such seldom-required solutions anyhow. Lopsided eyes swept over those who had made it to the meeting- they were the apex of his attention, now. "I need your knowledge," he said, attention particularly spared toward Bear-tail and Peepers, "On how to aid with kitting." They needed little more information than that to surmise why he needed such knowledge. Even one queen would be enough to justify it, and he had two. ​

PENNED BY PIN ☾​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Fireflypaw is a welcome presence to his side. Low-speaking; questioning, as any student should. Better to question, before any mistakes could be made. He wrinkles his nose with the question, and he smiles, crooked. His teeth glint with the light of her pale heart. His own, burns conflicted. the lack of a face spells as many words– no, maybe even more, than a worthless presence would. Satisfaction is a roll over his shoulders. Less-than-steady. Did his apprentice not deserve to know the faces of his enemies? It's foolish, to try and choose their fate like this. Though, he has never been given a reason to think they were anything but.

Though his spine bristles slightly, his face is self assured. In an aborted little motion, his paw lifts to gesture something unreadable. Chin aloft, Firefly is regarded with a half-lidded stare. "No. Not even for them," He says; and once again, he'd catch the rotting molly's eye. Crucial that she knows she is not far past the scum that was Windclan. The path she walked was similar, by extension, and Dawnglare would reguard her nearly the same. "Hmm, but it was only a matter of time." His gaze flickers away, and the ground is warm beneath his paws. "They will pay their due diligence."

Starkly, he's reminded of relationship between a certain two. Blood ties, to the crooked jawed medicine cat that lingered amongst them. And Dawnglare is suddenly, strangely bothered. His face falls blank as he observes their interaction, brief as it may have been. He and he alone should be his only dedication; and too kindly, do they look at him. Dawnglare looks away.

Another question, and again, Dawnglare does not reply. His ear flickers, this time, with the third utterance. Annoyance is light on his soul, but to be leaned on is a different joy, entirely. He is straight-faced, now. His lip juts out, just so (petulant). And the next thing... well, it is out of place. Curiously, his gaze snaps to the other. And to Firefly, he says with a smile. "We assist those deserving." A pointed gesture, though one carried through with care, he taps at the pale fur of his shoulder, rumbles low, as he says. "this one is a friend." And he hesitates. Briefly, he wonders how it would have gone over had anything else been the case. Just who's side would he take. "You knew that already, though." Discomfort, in those words. He spares a fleeting glance to Beesong.

Quickly, away. A want was optional. And a need was not. Berryheart, of course he trusted, to do more than lie. "There is little to be done. A stick for their efforts... They certainly appreciate it." He nearly speaks as if it is something distant. Hardly acknowledges that he was borne from the same miracle. "Raspberry leaves, too. Soothes the... the– Hmm, nerves begone." Truthfully, his understanding was vague (near nonexistant). If only, because it was not so important in his mind to retain. And were Firefly to look at him with an idle question, he would reply with a look that spelt later.​