did i know that i miss you? ;; prompt

[Fireflyglow]

;; prompt. fireflies buzz around fireflypaw, and fireflypaw takes it as an omen from the dead.

Soft buzzing sounds around the seal point as he seats himself in a patch of soggy grass, tail tapping at the ground in fours- one, two, three, four. No- two? His eyebrows scrunch as a firefly lands on his nose, the light feeling tickling him. He freezes up almost instantly, ghostly hues lit up by yellow light. The last time he'd seen these bugs, he could remember that they flickered a brilliant pastel in the night. Thoughts of Haku resurface, his first prophecy- was this a sign, or nothing more than nature finding its keeper?

"Good things are to come.." Fireflypaw speaks aloud, a small smile on his lips as he lazily slides down into a laying position. The firefly surprisingly follows, settling back on his nose as he listens to the buzzing of wings around him. So many, so many. Not that he minded. This was a time of peace, if only for a moment. Only a moment. "Times are changing." He blurts, a lazily grin taking place instead of the smile. ​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 13 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[GREENEYES]

Greeneyes’ vision is guided by fireflies in the dimming sky, their flickering from place to place as he too settles within dewy grass.

His gaze follows their dance, watches as they make their way around Fireflypaw. It’s quite apt, he thinks, for his friend’s namesake to shine around him - to bestow a glow upon him. The young warrior is hardly able to extrapolate a meaning from the scene before him in the ways SkyClan’s healers can, so he merely sits with a look of admiration pulling upwards at his snout.

But Fireflypaw is able to find meaning in the lightning bugs’ waltz, words spoken into the air, breaking the silence of the show before him. Good things are to come, his best friend declares. Greeneyes lays next to him, idly nodding his head as he listens. Fireflypaw wouldn’t lie about something’s meaning.

“Really? Is that what they’re telling you?” he asks, his gaze pulling away from pointed fur to observe the light-show for a moment longer. He does not see what the medicine cat reads, cannot hear what they hear, but wonders if he would, if his path had been forged by herbs, rather than battle training.

Changing times, they add on. Fireflypaw is trained to know these things, trained to read meaning in the world around them - and SkyClan needs good things right now, needs changing times. Sickness can only plague them for so long - he hopes it washes away, shifts like the seasons do.

“I hope so. StarClan knows we need it,” he murmurs, though he’d rather good times had arrived earlier - that the plague could’ve been abated. He is silent for a moment, before his gaze trains on Fireflypaw once more. “Can they tell you when, too?” Hopefully sooner, rather than later.
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[TWITCHBOLT]

Fireflies were beautiful- Twitchbolt could not deny it. As dead-set as he was on finding everything terrifying, these little fire-flickers were not- once he'd gotten past how baffling they were, of course. Only the stars and the sun had the power to light up the world, except for these little things... if he knew no better he'd almost think them blasphemous. Little stars, surely not blessed by the dead... but, no-one else had issues with them. That calmness had rubbed off on him eventually- terror had grown from ripple and spindrift to calm waters, and green-drowned pupils followed their tottering waltz.

Fireflypaw spoke definitively, speaking of changing times and tides. He blinked, following the dance, unsure how much he could believe it. Still had the night-dipped tom not received his full name, but... the winding words and dreamy understanding (apparently) of a qualified medicine cat had taken its hold. "How can you be shhh-sure?" he asked, voice croaky and quiet, skepticism not quite venom in his tone but certainly tangible. He had no talent for prophecy- who was he to disbelieve? But... a little explanation never hurt anyone.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[Plaguepaw]

I've been trying not to

Long, gangly legs snap into motion as he sprints about the small group. A wild grin lay etched upon his face as he swipes half heartedly at the little glistening bugs. They float in a panic out of his reach every time until he actually makes an effort to catch one. Inky paws trap the firefly on either side, effectively caging the insect. His grin spreads further, stretching nearly from one ear tip to the next as he leans in to inspect the flickering creature. To some degree they reminded him of the warm glow found within hs old twoleg home. His grizzled black face is illuminated with soft yellow hues upon turning to face the rest. "It's a bug. Bugs can't talk, amigo." He spouts whilst wearing a confused expression. ​

Go off the deep end​

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[FIGFEATHER]

FIGFEATHER ♀​ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥​

”He’s a medicine cat.” A serious voice snaps at Plaguepaw from behind. Emerging past a shrub appears a pelt of red, Figfeather. ”StarClan speaks to him through all types of life.” She extends a paw outward aiming to bat at Plaguepaw’s who kept one of the tiny bugs hostage. ”Treat StarClan’s omen like that and they’ll probably change their mind.” It’s said half-humoredly, but Figfeather feels there could be truth to her words. Despite her scolding of the apprentice, she too finds some doubt in the medicine cat’s interpretation. She bears no reason to doubt Fireflypaw, but after all these deaths… how could anything of good come for SkyClan? Amber eyes rest on the large medicine cat apprentice for guidance, though he would not see her gaze.

 

[Fireflyglow]

A pointed tail flicks, half irritated by the questions and half amused by Plaguepaw's statement. Figfeather comes to his defense boldly, even though Fireflypaw himself wasn't completely sure that he was right. Omens were odd, it was easy to mistake them for just another force of nature. Nonetheless, Fireflypaw hums to himself momentarily as Greeneyes asks when these good times will come, and a comical frown takes its place on his face.

"That would defeat the purpose of an omen, would it not? I can never be sure." He chuckles softly, "No, I don't know when. It could be tomorrow, it could be a moon from now. But good times are coming, I can feel it. The fireflies never lie. Listen, listen! If you're quiet, you can hear them talking.." Fireflypaw coos softly, ear twitching as the words leave his mouth. He sounds like a maniac! But it's true, he could hear them! Like soft whispers, the buzzing could be made out to be voices.

"We deserve that much.." He whispers, looking downwards towards the ground.​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 13 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[SLATE]

The Maine Coon found himself standing in the midst of the lightning bugs on his way back from a solo walk. Other SkyClanners appeared to be admiring the sight of the dancing lights as well, the buzzing of miniature wings faint as they flitted around the area freely.

The son of Blazestar suggests that the fireflies are communicating a good omen, but Slate couldn't bring himself to believe in blind optimism when the state of things seemed so bleak. It seemed so superficial. "Times're changing, alright." Not in a good way. None of the herbs that the medicine cats were trying seemed to improve the symptoms of cats who had fallen gravely ill over the past few weeks. If their oh-so-effective bundles of leaves wouldn't cure anything, then what would?

Twitchbolt and Plaguepaw voice their hesitations, albeit with differing levels of honesty, before Figfeather insists that Fireflypaw just so happens to know these things because he's a medicine cat. Slate does not care to suppress a roll of his eyes and a light shake of his head at the very idea. Does StarClan actually speak to the clan's healers or do they just make lucky guesses based on coincidences?

In a decision to challenge Fireflypaw's logic, Slate furrowed his brow and grunted toward the medicine cat apprentice, "So did these fireflies ever plan on tellin' us that a deadly sickness was comin' around, or...?" While it's difficult to deny the mystical powers that are granted to leaders, as they possess the ability to literally cheat death, Slate doesn't know how anybody could be so sure of StarClan's ways. How is it that medicine cats commune with them frequently, and yet they don't warn of bad things happening like raids on camp or even a terrible sickness?​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

It seemed Fireflypaw was less interested in giving an actual explanation on how he had ascertained anything from this display, which must have been little more than buzzing to his own ears... more, he was more enamoured with the why. Were medicine cats cursed to talk this way? Maybe that was why apprentices were taken so sparingly... only a certain amount could decipher this level of metaphor. Or, only a certain amount could put up with it...

Slate's question vaguely amused Twitchbolt, in a morbid sort of way. It was all he could do not to collapse into a puddle of fear and hopelessness. And... anyway, it was too late now, wasn't it? He only hoped that the good omen meant a solution would come about for this whole disaster soon enough. He didn't think he could stand to see anyone else succumb to the illness. It already threatened to sprawl close to those whom he held closest... Quillstrike's voice was sounding scratchier, and Twitchbolt could only hope it was something unrelated. "I s'pose this is why we're not medicine cats," he murmured lowly to Slate, not hiding anymore that understanding this was quite beyond him.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[Plaguepaw]

I've been trying not to

”He’s a medicine cat.” The golden molly's curt tone caused the patchy tom's forked tail to puff out in surprise. Round blue green eyes turn in time to look up at the warrior striking out to bat his paw away, effectively freeing his captive. "H-hey!" He stammered as the little bug began floating away. Pouting, Plaguepaw plants his rump with a thud upon the ground, chin upturned. "Yeah? Well...I survived fire. So that means I'm invincible to their mind changes." He declared confidently. Although his air of triumph deflates the moment he truly begins to dwell on Figfeather's words. "Wait, how come starclan only talks to you and not the rest of us?" It didn't seem very fair in his mind.

That aside, the medic in training assures them that voices could be heard from the fireflies themselves. Doubt creases his features as he looks around, straining his ears to pick up said "voices." Yet all he could make out was the steady buzz of their wings. "I don't hear anything." He mumbled, shrugging his shoulders and giving up. ​

Go off the deep end​

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[FIGFEATHER]

FIGFEATHER ♀​ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥​

Plaguepaw whines and settles on his rump while Fireflypaw explains he can never be sure with omens. Still, medicine cats were intertwined with StarClan and his training makes him the second most reliable cat in the clan to read omens. The red tabby feels confident that if he believes the fireflies are a positive omen, that they must be. She’s unimpressed by Slate’s lack of faith, unlike an Plaguepaw, Figfeather held no authority to scold him. She makes due with laying back her ears a notch. After a moment of silence Plaguepaw voices that he can’t hear anything, Figfeather is shamed to say she can’t either. ”We’re not medicine cats.” She echoes Twitchbolt’s low words, ”That’s why we cannot hear.” The warrior is determined to hold faith and finds she believes her words.

 

[GREENEYES]

Fireflypaw's frown reflects onto Greeneyes' own face, a mirrored frown as his friend explains the lack of an answer to his question. He supposes he should've known the stars' ways by now - an omen is an omen for a reason, as the medicine apprentice tells him.

"Ah, well," he says with a hum, his gaze shifting back to the light show, "I guess I'm fine with waiting, then." Impatience begins to settle in as he says it - a fear of things getting worse before they get better hitting him for a brief moment.

But, just as he believes Fireflypaw wouldn't lie, it seems the actual fireflies don't either, and Greeneyes will hold onto the image of their flickering dance in hopes their message will come to fruition soon. Good times must be coming, even if Slate refutes StarClan's message, even if Plaguepaw thinks himself above the clans' ancestors. Good times must be coming, Fireflypaw said so himself.

Snow-freckled ears strain to hear what his friend hears - as if he'll be able to hear the whispers the pointed feline claims to hear; as if he'll pick up on part of the message Firefly hadn't been able to. But, like everyone else who makes their own attempt, Greeneyes hears nothing. He is not a medicine cat, of course. Figfeather and Twitchbolt are right in their thinking, Greeneyes supposes.

"We do deserve some good," he agrees softly with Fireflypaw's murmured words, lightly nudging his friend's shoulder. Greeneyes will just have to keep watch, have to make sure he actually notices when the good finally arrives.
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