GOD SENT ME RIGHT TO VOICEMAIL — medicine cat gathering

[Starlingheart]

The moors are so much colder than the small black and white furred apprentice had anticipated. She fluffs up her fur in an effort to combat the winds as they whip at her but it does little to prevent the bite of cold air that nips at her thin pelt. How did Wind Clanners live like this, she wonders? Out of the corners of her eyes she glances at her traveling companions, wondering how they were faring.

It had been her first night meeting the other medicine cats. Starlingpaw remembers the anxiety that twisted her stomach at the thought of meeting so many new faces, about having to speak to them, introduce herself. She had allowed her aunt to speak for her, hiding behind the much bigger mollies leg after she had been properly introduced, trying not to stare too hard at the cat who was not much older than her but bore the name of a full medicine cat, or the cat with half a face, the one with the crooked jaw and the other apprentice he himself had brought with him, or the cat who was staring daggers at the others. What a strange bunch they all were, but she supposed she herself is not much better. Just wait till they heard her speak! Hah! She’ll fit right in with this crew, she’s sure of it.

Her apprehensions had eased a little bit after some idle chatter, news about illnesses in the clans, or lack thereof but she was sky rocketed back when Bonejaw had proposed that they go to the moonstone. Her eyes opened as wide as saucers at that. The moonstone? She had no idea where or what that was but it sounded like something important, and by the way the grown ups were talking, far. But everyone had agreed and so their strange crew had set off into the night.

Here they stood now, at the entrance to a cave that was pitch black. The small she cat cowered at the darkness. "W-we-wee we have to ha-have t-too go go uhm in there?" she asks, her voice small and quiet as she looks to her aunt for guidance. The last time she had been in a tunnel was under the thunder path. That day her whole life changed, and it was about to again. Star Clan. She was going to meet with Star Clan. Or at least that’s what she has been told. She hopes her mother is there, waiting for her. The thought gives her a boost of confidence, as tiny as it may be and she takes a deep breath before following the rest of her traveling companions into the darkness.

They make their way through the tunnel, her whiskers brushing the damp walls the only indication that they are even in one as they travel deeper into the earth. Suddenly, the space opens up and she’s blinking and squinting against the moonlight, bright and blinding compared to the darkness that had swallowed her whole the past couple of minutes.

The moonstone is more beautiful than she had anticipated. She almost looses her breath at the sight of it, illuminated softly by the moon that gives it its name. "wha-what what do-d-do we do n-now?" she asks no one in particular, eyes shining with wonder still.

​

 

[BONERIPPLE]

It's another one of these gatherings and they are supposed to be learning from one another. Sharing their knowledge so it will best benefit each other. Help the clans. Stop seeing themselves as separate entities. It is something she hopes for tonight under the half moon. She lifts her head up as she looks at the starry sky after the suggestion. It'll be fine and thing should be okay. Since they are medicine cats she thinks that it only seems more fitting that they be at the moonstone. That they be as close to Starclan as possible and despite her misgivings she will do this for her sister. For the colony that they were allowed to live in when they had no one else. A smile pulls at the woman's maw as they come to the cave entrance and she nods lightly. "It's not as bad as you think. I brought your mother here after all and Starclan blessed her with nine loves." But they also cursed her to die nine times as well.

Her face falls then and she turns and goes down into the tunnel. Keeping her wits about her and following through. It seems like it goes on forever and ever and she feels like that may be the case. But soon it opens up into the cavern, the brightness of the stone shining just like the first time that she saw it. Her tail twitches as she settles down beside Starling and she looks at the cats that all followed upon the suggestion. "I guess the first thing to do is introduce you. Everyone this is Starlingpaw, she is my niece but also my apprentice. She will take my place once she learns all I can teach her. As far as Shadowclan and what is happening, leafbare has come and it's...." She pauses then and frowns debating on how to say things. Say this.

"It's a trying time for my clan. So I'm asking if anyone knows how to deal with coughs? Stomach aches? Aching joints because of the cold. Anything that can help with keeping strength up." Shadowclan is not weak by any means and she doesn't want to make it appear so. It is the last thing she wants to do right now. But she has to ask for the wellbeing of her clan. One of the five and they must survive.​

 

[BEESONG]

it seems like a lifetime ago that beesong stood in front of the yawning darkness of mothermouth, back when he still called himself honeybee and his cinnamon fur still carried the scent of the pine forest. when he did not carry the weight of his clan's well-being on his shoulders. completely unaware of what awaited him on the other side, blissful in his ignorance to starclan's chosen path for him.

sometimes, beesong wants to yearn for his previous life in the pine colony. but what good would come out of that?

the young she-cat bonejaw had dragged along cowers at the sight of mothermouth, asks if they would have to embark on a journey through the pitch black. beesong shrugs, as if the task wasn't so daunting. it wouldn't be, if beesong had come alone. it is not the dark that they fear, but the company around them; who could they trust, and who could they not? dawnglare is the closest to a friend. gloompaw is a clanmate, and chosen by starclan themselves. (then again, honeytwist and cinderfrost had been chosen by starclan. could starclan's choices be trusted any more than the living?) starlingpaw? she seems much too frail in both body and mind to pose a threat. dandelionwish, who serves in the moorland tyrant's council. bonejaw seems to be an unstable link in the chain, flitting between serving her clan as her destined role and shunning it completely. she is unpredictable, which makes her dangerous. and berryheart... beesong does not know nearly anything about him, and that unnerves them.

"yup," is the curt answer they give to starlingpaw. they'll leave the consoling to her mentor, watching the pair through a narrowed gaze as they stick close to their own newest addition; gloompaw. nearly protective in the tensing of their muscles and clench of their jaw, the memory of dandelionwish's introduction to the role of a medicine cat too fresh in their mind.

he wonders why bonejaw had suggested they return to the moonstone. beesong would not expect such a display of religious devotion from the molly who had shunned her own calling mere moons ago. he cannot help but to wonder, is there an ulterior motive to this? is there something she wishes to gain?

perhaps bonejaw would rather spit in the faces of starclan directly this time around.

before long, the medicine cats are entering the tunnel, and beesong makes certain to bring up the rear with gloompaw. (he wouldn't allow himself or his apprentice to be ambushed from behind.) the whiskers on the left half of his face brush the tunnel's walls, guiding him where his eye couldn't in the absence of light. and, soon enough, the nearly suffocating proximity opens into a cavern. the bright light of the moonstone illuminates everything in an otherworldly blue glow, and even though he has seen it before, it still captures his breath as much as it does blind the fuck out of him for a solid minute. he's left blinking and squinting against the sudden brightness.

as his eyesight adjusts, bonejaw introduces starlingpaw to them properly. beesong swallows the snort upon learning that starlingpaw is bonejaw's niece, hiding the roll of his eye behind a blink. of course, shadowclan's nepotism knows no bounds.

but, glaringly obvious shadowclan favoritism aside, they suppose this is their cue to introduce their own apprentice. beesong keeps their expression neutral, hiding every bitter thought behind their mask of passivity as they say, "and this is gloompaw." no more needed to be said. it should be obvious that gloompaw is their apprentice, and the dream they'd received is the riverclan council's business alone.

bonejaw goes on to ask about remedies for different ailments. coughs, bellyaches, aching joints... beesong couldn't assist her with the coughing, but pain relief, he's well-versed in. "mallow leaves or watermint for bellyaches. daisy leaves for joint pain. i can describe their appearance, if needed."​

 

[Dandelionwish]

If Sootstar had a problem with them all going to the Moonstone he would deal with it, he would make it clear it was part of their medicine cat duties and dilligence and if she didn't like it she could go cry to StarClan herself about it. Frankly, he thought it was a good idea, a good distance from prying eyes and less of a walk for him personally. It also spared the others having to make this trek during their own time where they'd be held up waiting for a WindClan patrol to escort them; a tedious affair. He made a note to visit the borders every so often just in case to help expedite the process but, really it was anyone's guess when someone might want to visit. Dandelionwish stepped along after them all, cheerfully trotting ahead near the front on confident strides given he knew the terrain well; there were a few unfamiliar faces but he opted to smile at them in silence until introductions were done proper and he was pleased when they finally got inside and settled down; the cold chill of the air was uncomfortable on cats like him with shorter fur, not that he wasn't used to it out on the moors. It would, though, be his first leaf-bare with WindClan.
The skittish one with the stutter who hesitated at the entrance was Bonejaw's niece and apprentice, she didn't seem much younger than he was and he felt a longing pang in his chest as he carefully scanned the two medicine cats with their students, remembering how much more comfortable he felt as an apprentice sitting alongside Honeytwist than he ever did now.

"Well howdy, ya'll done got apprentices finally! Good to see!" A relief really, knowing their clans would not be left struggling as his was in the event something happened. He sincerely hoped they would be able to train these cats before such a thing occurred; though he mostly hoped such a thing didn't occur at all. "Starlin'paw, Gloompaw, nice to meetcha-ah'm Dandelionwish, WindClan. If the smell didn't go give'n it away~" A blind cat would know he was from the moorland with ease. The point twirled the wheat stem clenched in his jaws about with a flick.
"Ya'll will do great! If ye ever need any help teach'n wise ah don't mind sharin' what I know too! Ain't a lot, but it's somethin! Still learnin' m'self, you know!"
His mismatched gazed dance about the room, the moment they had stepped inside he let the glittering blue light absorb his thoughts for only a moment before he had hurried in to take a seat but not in his idleness he found himself staring at it once again with the same awe he had felt when he first came here moons ago. It was magical still, seemed to always shine like it was a sliver of the moon itself. Sleep here would take him back to StarClan and the urge was strong but he fought them off. Another time. Rosepaw wasn't going anywhere anyways....sadly.
The WindClanner's focus snapped back at Bonejaw's question, regarding it with some thought as Beesong offered his own and his eyes lit up in delight at the mention of bellyaches. He had been curious how to handle something like that but he'd never TRIED watermint before.
"Aye, watermint fer bellyaches-now ah wouldn't guessed that!" The chocolate point nodded with a grin, wheat stem bobbing with the motion, "Fer yer coughing though-recommend tansy, real good fer sore throats too which you'll get plenty comin' up soon! Honey works too but best of luck findin' them damn beehives this late in the moons. Ain't fond of this chill m'self."
You know, now that he had a moment to think about it. Every other medicine cat had sought out an apprentice with the exception of himself and Berryheart who were still so new they may as well be apprentices still; age be damned. But one hadn't....
"When ye gettin' yerself a lil'apprentice friend too, Dawnglare?"


​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

He hadn't been sure when he'd see them again.

The starry figures in the sky. The ones who grounded him, lit up his eyes with childlike wonder. That gleam so dazzling he only wished he could capture it; tuck it between his teeth and underneath his paws, hoard it somewhere where no other could find it, not if they searched and searched until their flesh wore away and brittle bones were trampled into dust. Possessiveness. And– over the stars? You could ask. A resounding yes, would echo back at you. Cacophony of sound; the weight of his undying love. His heart skips his soul bellows completion.. satisfaction at the chance to see it again. Shiny, sparkling, jutting from the very earth, Mother's heart, so fragile, and yet, she readily offers it to them, for she is kinder than he would ever be.

And kind, gentle, loving as she is, not even she buckles at the insufferable bunch that meet before her gilded teeth. Muscle and blood. His teeth grit with the whinings from the supple. Newcomer, and from there, he was already weary. No good name, name, for herself; jittering with worries. Stupid, stupid, her question is pointless. Would they walk an age across gnarled roots and dead land, step on the toes of a witch, come to the mouth of god, only to walk away? What's the use in a tongue if you only speak so listlessly, pointlessly, your words shuddered through nerves and chittering teeth? What he really wants to say becomes no more than a sizzling hiss caught on his teeth. He bristles along his spine, but nothing, nothing yet.

Yes, he will allow her mentor's reply to sate her. He will allow Honeybee's curt words to do the same for him. Breath of relief in the thought that, no, he is not alone. She would not last. No, she wouldn't. He can only imagine the Gods will recoil at the sight of her; clamor to fix Shadowclan's mistake, and, while they're at it Shadowclan as a whole. Sin and sacrilege, shreds of faith. No, she did not deserve to live for what she's done. And her little niece– niece? She too, would be picked apart by blight. Flesh bitten and picked at by horrors beyond imagining. Perhaps he could do it himself, but it wasn't his place.

Into the tunnel, and again, he's giddy. His chest swells with sweet, sincere joy. Featherfall. He's walking on air. And oh, there's a light at the end of the tunnel, but it's blocked by the view of some tail he had no interest in seeing. Nearly frantic (overjoyed, obsessed) at the prospect of seeing it– them (his ears shudder with a thousand little whispers, lullaby in his mind) nearly, he contemplates biting whoever's ahead of him. Biting, scratching, clawing, anything; but the wait isn't immense. Before the fervor can truly set in, they're here, and, oh.

Grand, grandeur, grander than grand. Towering high, high, higher, reflection of moonlight, nearly too brilliant for eyes (The eyes of these few. Wind and shadow, he ought to rip them from their sockets–) Confession caught on his tongue, he swoons, and– screeching halt. Nonsense stutterings; introduction no one asked for. "Quiet," hissed like they committed the filthiest of sins, and really, it isn't far off. 'What she has to teach her,' she says, and he snorts. What does she have to offer other than sacrilege? No more than a glance is spared towards this 'gloompaw,' before again, they're prattling.

White, white noise, and he can only bite at his lip. Stare daggers as his sanity wears away. Sudden mention. His gaze snaps to the odd-eyed tom. And it's not fair. Not fair that Honeybee can spin answers with mallow while Windclan was present. Scent so familiar, but wrong. It barely belongs to him. Was it in his fur? In his skin? His bones? His blood? Would it come flowing out and away if he were to split him open? Would he still have to cope with the travesty– "Huh?" Not a question, not really. A noise welled in his throat to signify his displeasure. Flat and low, set loose from his jaw falling slack. His brows pinch in an aggravated glower, his face twitches. Too much effort just to preserve a useless life. "I am not replaceable," plainly, he says; and that is all the answer he should need.

His paws guide him closer to Her heart. Entranced, enraptured, they move all on their own. As much as he'd love to find himself in star-soaked fields– afloat in the sky, amongst the clouds– he is not priority. His tail jitters with misplaced excitement, but he maintains his poise. "Starclan must accept them," he says, wide-eyed presentation. "No, we are not here to exchange little names like the sinner thinks. You are here to be judged" The last word is drawled, and with this Shadowclan's newest is met with a moon-bright stare.

[ 850 words of Dawn wanting everyone here dead im so sorry ]​

 

[BERRYHEART]

"Yes- welcome." It was spoken briefly, followed by a polite nod, but Berryheart did not-could not- offer any more. Flame-flecked shadow, the three-footed tom lagged behind, barely involving himself in the conversation. These meetings were beginning to become more populated; Peepers, Odd-eyes, Magpie and Bear-tail he knew from before, but following the latter two were faces he knew not- and young ones, younger than even the Windclanner. Askew olive eyes studied the pair-ups levelly, interest low and calm, judgement buzzing along the wire of his eyeline. Round like a pebble, smoky like storm clouds. These new faces... before the weight was placed upon their shoulders, would they have more time to learn? More than himself, was all he hoped. Ill-preparation was not fun, he had learned as such- but there was nothing he could have done.

No control, none of them...

Interest snagged him as everyone shared their knowledge; if he was less overwhelmed perhaps he would be frustrated. It was his dream, and had been for moons, to be the one everyone turned to for knowledge. To be all-knowing- this was a stinging reminder that he was nowhere near that status. The knowledge was not shrugged off, though... it was welcome. His silence was effort to commit it all to his memory; mallow-leaves, waterint, bellyaches. Daisy leaves for joints... hone for coughs, that he knew. There was something, at least- a morsel.

Peepers was a strange one, speech tangoing with deepest peculiarity- he wondered how Pebbles and Stormy might react to such words, whether they'd be able to decipher it at all. Berryheart himself understood the sentiment- that they must be placed before the stars and accepted, just as they all had been. Named, communed-with... this ritual was their introduction but also the weighing of their souls. Worthy or unworthy- they'd find out. But did StarClan truly have all that knowledge...? Had the fall of his own 'mentor' been an unanticipated one? The way the Boss Man had spoken- it seemed that way...

"They will be kind to you," he murmured, sure of it. They were... young, hopefully untouched by the cruelty of the world. Hopefully far from madness. Usually he would not say anything if he was not entirely sure of these words, but... the enirelty of this situation was precarious. He could not deny the fact of his apprehension back then.​

[ PENNED BY PIN ]​

 

[GLOOMPAW]

Gloompaw had never walked so far from RiverClan. It'd been two months since she was free-roaming, able to be where she wanted and when she wanted. The idea she was walking through the moors, on another territory, excited her. Better yet, it was allowed on this specific night.

The cycle of wandering a few feet away, staring at something moving in the tall grasses, then snapping back to Beesong's side continued until they'd reached the tunnel. It was difficult to pay attention to the sound of owls and crickets when there was a huge cave in front of you. She bit down doubts and bile. Tonight was judgement night. Gloompaw couldn't run from belief anymore, and she'd have to face it come sunrise.

She turned to Starlingpaw as she inquired of the tunnel. Various answers flowed from cats she'd never met, but whose names meant importance. Her own is given by Beesong, and for that she's thankful for rescue through the awkward, rigid posture she held. Eyes lay on her and drift by, back towards remedy sharing and small talk. Gloompaw didn't ask of their own in return. That would come sometime.

Wondering if StarClanners could be poked by mortal claws, she barely caught Dandelionwish's introduction. "Cool, thanks," the mink's response was stilted. He looked like he could be her denmate, features still apprentice-like. Gloompaw wished she could interrogate him about it later.

Then, after a few more words, they filed into the tunnel, bursting out like a flood into the room below. She fought back against the sudden power of the cave, of the thing inside. Her heart thudded. She wanted to climb it. She wondered about if she tripped and if she'd fall into StarClan, had she done so.

She wanted to believe Berryheart's words. Maybe both he and Dawnglare were right, in their own ways. She'd need all the kind judgement she could get, especially as she hovered so close, putting heavy amounts of consideration into licking the stone. What did the afterlike taste like?​