camp FIX WHAT'S BROKEN ♡ EXPERIMENTING

[DAWNGLARE]

[ This takes place not too far after the WindClan raid!! me trying make threads in a timely manner... </3 ]

The cry of battle spells little good for anything. With an elder burned by the brunt of claws, and Blaise ripped through at the teeth of wild dogs, only carefully does he hold his knowledge with him. Marigold and dandelion, the cure to wound-sickness. With these, the oozing never came. The green death was evaded, and their pains put to rest. So long as they were well and plentiful. But Mother's purging only seemed more thorough with every leaf-bare. Dandelion is left nigh-impossible to come by; marigold tucks itself into cracks beside the litter...

And weren't these resources, so precious, only needed by the worst of them? To keep the brittle bones of Mother's worshippers in-tact; to keep the face of his friend, sun-bright, in all of their lives? Expendable, some of these few certainly were. For the greater good, yes, certainly... And certainly, still, a cat suited for deputy would not succumb to scrapes so trivial? The realm of thought is reasonable, in his mind. Rational, as he circles the same very subject with a narrowed gaze. A blue gaze snaps upward. His face sits, unreadable. Twitch of the lip, before, wordlessly, he dips into his den. Perhaps the change is noticeable. Treatments that had come from golden-bloomed flowers would now come from pale blooms lapped into his mouth. And– partly a joke, he chews a brittle oak leaf along with it.

Anyone who knew anything would leave him to his devices; A master was not to be questioned, a prophet not to be judged; but of course, so few of these bunch ever knew any better.

Gently as he would to any other, the poultice is applied, and lain over with cobweb. Though perhaps, he couldn't quite help the smile he regards her with. Her wounds were not severe. She would live... probably. And, though unnecessary, said with a chirp, "Something new, just for you ♪" His tail twitches oddly, borne with stress; but with amusement, he copes.

[ @orangeblossom ;) ]​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

Now that Greenpaw was back home safe, Figpaw was resting easily in the medicine cats den. Well- as easy as one could get when you shared the company of a cat like Dawnglare. The Tom had healed her leg though and set it back in place, it would never be perfect, but the red tabby must confess the medicine cat likely had saved her life from fever. Her heart has opened up to him, though she isn’t sure there will be a day where his chirps and melodies didn’t raise the fur on her hackles.

Figpaw wrinkles her nose as the smell of the poultice fills the den, ”Oh, that smells nasty!” She exclaims, amusement laced in her tone. She’s not trying to sour the mood but simply stating what her nose tells her. ​

---

Spoiler: TAGS ★ 01/05

( primary character / "speech" / ic opinions )​

╰ ★ ჻ 001 GENERAL INFORMATION ,
· FIGPAW, AMAB — she / her
╰ ‣ 9 moons .
╰ ‣ skyclan apprentice . believes in starclan, doesn't fully understand

╰ ★ ჻ 002 VISUALS & AESTHETICS ,
· DOMESTIC FELINE, smells like pine nettles & sap, status — 100%
╰ ‣ A red tabby she-cat with orange eyes. Mangled right hind leg.

╰ ★ ჻ 003 MENTALITY & MANNERISMS ,
· ENFP-A ❝ CAMPAIGNER❞ , Gryfindor, Lawful Good
╰ ‣ Excitable, generous, caring, quick-to-act, daft, naive
╰ ‣ finds relative ease relating to others . kind-hearted, will show mercy

╰ ★ ჻ 004 INTERACTIONS & RELATIONSHIPS ,
· NPC X DAISYFLIGHT, sister to Greenpaw, Violetpaw, Snowpaw & Butterflypaw
╰ ‣ Pansexual . mistakes admiration for romantic feelings
╰ ‣ Apprentice to Tallulahwing
╰ ‣ poor fighter . okay hunter .
╰ ‣ unlikely to start fights . will flee .
╰ ‣ attack in underline . penned by user @ava.

 

[Orangestar]

It's been an odd few days, in and out of sleep and carefully keeping weight off her injured leg as she shifts in her makeshift nest. Dawnglare has been no mental help whatsoever, though Orangeblossom firstly had not expected much otherwise and secondly would privately admit she appreciates the medicinal assistance. So, she's a patient of, well, patience. She holds still obediently even as Dawnglare slathers green on her muzzle and leg, wrinkles her nose and flattens her ears at the smell and feel of the poultice on her face. Grimaces at the taste of it along her maw. She twitches the ear that sits in one piece at Figpaw's cheeky quip, brown eyes shifting sideways at the apprentice briefly, before sidling back to their medicine cat.

Laced with a heavy sigh, she meows in a deadpan, "What did you put in it, Dawnglare." It's a question without being a question, resigned to a likely answer of something and little else by way of information.​

✦ ooc ✦ info

•  
• 
  ✦ orangeblossom, deputy of skyclan
  — mentoring vulturepaw and eveningpaw.
  ✦ 26 moons, she/her
  ✦ fluffy white and ginger cat with brown eyes. torn left ear, scar on right foreleg. injured!
  ✦ bi, single. @ on discord for plots.
  ✦ "speech" — thoughts

​

 

[MUSHROOMPAW]

---

---

"Probably nothing you don't need. Herbs have strong smells after all." One of those who was [mostly] unquestioning, was Mushroomkit and she was ever willing to assist in backing up Mother's most exhaulted....and his protege. Perhaps the only reason she was on Dawnglare's side in the first place was the apprentice who had been so intriguied by the medicine cat he'd resorted to stalking him at unfathomable times of night. The one cat they similarly held close, regardless of the faith that had kept them on good terms.

"How are you both fairing by the way?" She had originally come to make sure her grandfather was doing alright, but a quick glance to the back of the den told her that he was sleeping most of his injuries off. There was no harm checking in on the other residents before she left though, perhaps see if anyone needed prey brought. ​

---

---

ALL I CAN DO IS DREAM ─

─ FOR I AM SO, SO TIRED.

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Figpaw's exclamation was loud. But not ill intentioned, no, he does not think. Dawnglare acknowledges her with a willowy hum. "Dramatic." spoken, hushed. He too, only means it good-naturedly, though it likely does not come across in his tone.

And this one, she could never just live and accept, could she? Always with the questions, this one. Always with the arching eye. Her tone demands answers that she did not necessarily deserve. Nose poking where it shouldn't be... His intentions were not quite malodorous, on the cusp between helpful, and not. His eyes linger on her for too long. A not-right smile affixes itself to his face. Pondering... Suddenly wanting to tell her its something terrible. And just how would she feel? Would her skin pull taught? Would she feign a cool exterior while her spine bristles and her blood rushes cold. How could he tell? He'd need only split her seem... tear a claw through flesh to see pulse of a scattered soul.

Thinking, still thinking, the patter of paws reveals the face of the devout. This one knew her place. Born to be worth something in the beginning. More than many others had the pleasure of saying; their downfall determined by birth. Raised sound and secure in the warmth of Her earth.

No, he would not allow his mood to be tarnished by a face so dreary, however fragile it already was... "Certainly." In agreement, he hums along with the kit. His smile pinches at his eyes, in a way not-so-comforting. "Crow's tears and nightshade... blood of a nymph..." What was a nymph? He hadn't a clue, except that he knew a feline in twolegplace by that name, and he found them terribly worthy of a killing. "Ragweed, rose thorns... Who's that cat you're always with? Mm, his pawpads. Ripped clean off. Chewy."​

 

[SLATESNARL]

Slate hadn't sustained any major injuries from the battle with WindClan, other than a bite around his hind leg. He had insisted on licking his own wounds; on the streets, any scratches didn't need more than that, anyhow. All of these herbs and whatnot... was it really necessary? Perhaps cats who were destined to die shouldn't require saving.

The former rogue scrunches his nose as the acrid stench wafts into his nostrils ( and probably alters his brain cells ). He couldn't help but fix his attention on that of the medicine cat, deputy, and a few others. Dawnglare lists off the "ingredients" of his homemade mixture, though he's inclined to believe it all to be nonsense; the tom is rather eccentric and it didn't seem to be too far-fetched for him for every other word he says to be utter gibberish. Therefore, Slate isn't necessarily concerned with the concoction that the medicine cat is slathering onto Orangeblossom — he is more intrigued ( and a little disgusted ) than anything. Slate is just glad that he wasn't Dawnglare's test subject. "And the purpose of this is... what?"​

— * ✰. ooc information recent events * ✰. —

• 
  
• 
  ✰ SLATE
  —— amab, uses he/him pronouns. twenty-nine moons old. warrior of skyclan; former rogue.
  —— unrefined, rough and tumble rogue who is not accustomed to clan life. only trustful of his littermate, duskmane.
  —— link to tags. @ on discord for plots.
  
  quite the hulk of a cat, slate stands above the average clanmate with an arrogant gait. he has a dark gray ( bordering on black ) colored pelt with a pale-brown-tinged underbelly and whisps of tan at the tips of his chest hairs. amber-colored eyes contrast against his dark palette. notable features include a jagged scar across his right eye and two small scratches across the bridge of his nose.
• —— decided to officially remain in skyclan as a warrior
  —— participated in battle with windclan, currently recovering from belly scratches and a bite mark on hind leg
  

​

 

[Orangestar]

Orangeblossom tips her head to the side slightly in acknowledgement; Mushroomkit has a point. She often avoids the medicine cats' den, wrinkling her nose on the way past, though she's become somewhat desensitized in the wake of her injury and being around the herbal reek for hours on end. She's surprised by the query into her health, though she responds close behind with a gruff, "Still alive, can't complain. How're things outside the den?"

Dawnglare, however, has a glint in his eyes that she doesn't like. Here we go. Unimpressed, she waits as he lists a concoction so vile and scattered that ... wait, what was a nymph? Orangeblossom has no idea, though some memory stirs about Alice mentioning a friend by a similar name. Weird. Anyway, her nose wrinkles (ow) at the mental image of their healer using Hailstone's pawpads in this haphazard poultice. Gross. "They'd be cracked in this weather, how does that make them chewy?" Ragweed and rose thorns are the only two reasonable things he's listed- though while she has no idea if either of them would help her, Orangeblossom takes small amusement in the mental image of their healer poking holes in his maw trying to chew up the prickles.

Her attention slides sideways, falling on Slate. With a small amount of humour in her voice, she snips back, "Making sure I don't die, probably. Or making sure I do, who knows?"​

✦ ooc ✦ info

•  
• 
  ✦ orangeblossom, deputy of skyclan
  — mentoring eveningpaw.
  ✦ 26 moons, she/her
  ✦ fluffy white and ginger cat with brown eyes. torn left ear, scar on right foreleg. injured!
  ✦ bi, single. @ on discord for plots.
  ✦ "speech" — thoughts

​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

Although his sentiment isn't a popular one, Blazestar trusts Dawnglare with his life. The eccentric medicine cat has been his (eccentric) confidante since he was two moons old and the sepia was three moons. Dawnglare had saved his mate's life during her birthing, ensured all five kits were delivered well, did what he could to save his daughter's life, and attempted in all his bizarre wisdom to comfort Blazestar in his grief.

Even still, he gives the herb packet he offers Orangeblossom a dubious look. Figpaw's right, the scent is offensive, but he can't help but think they're all bitter and harsh on the senses. Mushroompaw claims they're all something she needs, and Blazestar wishes he could agree with her. He nods at Slate's words, wondering, too, what the purpose of this concoction truly is.

He looks at his deputy with a vaguely worried expression. "Are you actually going to eat those?" He doesn't really think Dawnglare would do anything insidious to her, but... he can never quiet the nagging in the back of his head. Even as Valentine, his best friend had extraordinary ideas.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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