camp HIS BONES THE HILLS — MCA ANNOUNCEMENT

[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── There is precious little lungwort. There is more than WindClan had when yellowcough first found them, but Wolfsong is keenly aware of how many lungs it can easily spread to— and how many will depend on Wolfsong to continue breathing. Cottonsprig was a greatly needed boon during that tumultuous leafbare, but Wolfsong does not know whether he can hold out for her return. It is a dour, disheartening thought that feels like a betrayal of their many moons together as mentor and apprentice, as friends. How can he already consider scouring the clan for another apprentice?

How can he not?

Following Quietcrow's relocation to the badger set, Wolfsong returned to the medicine den, where he now sits, staring at the faded streaks of mud on the wall as though he might find wisdom in the cracks. Can WindClan afford to wait for Cottonsprig? So early into the outbreak, he cannot say for certain. A patrol may very well find her tomorrow, bruised but safe. Would she consider a new apprentice a sign of lost faith? That Wolfsong did not believe he would see her again? Or would she understand that it is necessity, not an eagerness to leave her memory behind?

It is all conjecture, and brings him no closer to resolution. He considers his prospective apprentices in resigned silence, conjuring their faces across the wall. Wolfsong dwells, second guesses, doubles back, grows frustrated. It was simple before, with the lone puff of cotton blown into his den.

He hopes the lack of a sign is not StarClan's disapproval of his hastiness.

Vulturepaw and Weepingkit have bright minds both, curious and insightful. But hesitance lingers in Wolfsong, wary of the power of names— would Vulturepaw simply invite tragedy in the pawsteps of his namesake? And Weepingkit, orphaned and taken in by Periwinklebreeze...Yellowcough will claim lives. Wolfsong does not know that he could force such a burden on someone still so young. Which rules out Splinterkit, who is especially softhearted. Honeysucklekit is closer to being of age, but he hesitates to bring more of Sootstar's blood into the fold, still unsure what to make of Cottonsprig's disappearance.

Brackenpaw is so obstinate he worries about a smooth learning path, which may not have been as important if Wolfsong were not staring down the start of a plague. Sheeppaw is set to be a valuable hunter, much-needed in the coming moons; similarly, Lakepaw is closer to the age of a warrior, and he would not deprive WindClan of such skills. He would also not ruin the solace Midnightpaw derives from the medicine den with the miasma of stress pervasive in crisis.

Which leaves Wolfsong with no one, quite frankly. He rubs at his face, gaze drifting across the herb stores. Among the white petals of chickweed, something pops. He realizes it to be the loud bud of red chickweed, which he must have mistakenly harvested while stripping chickweed. Or perhaps Cottonsprig hadn't noticed it as she was herb-hunting. Unbidden, it brings to mind Celandinepaw, the former barncat, the apprentice training to be a warrior but still so starkly different that she remains notably separate. Bright, like the red chickweed. Excitable, which is why he hadn't initially considered her.

He hates to think it, but she is not as...brave-hearted as other WindClanners. Not as skilled of claw. He would not feel guilty pulling her from their ranks of would-be warriors, and while he had wanted a younger apprentice, perhaps it is better that she is older. Yellowcough's sorrows may struggle to break a foundation already set in stone.

Wolfsong digs his paws into the sand, dragging free of the medicine den, tired and resigned. What fortune it is that the very apprentice is in camp. "Celandinepaw." He is set to singlehandedly alter the course of her life. Nothing she does will be truly free of this moment. "Yellowcough is upon us, and I have decided, in light of Cottonsprig's disappearance, that a new apprentice is needed. Come: there is much to do." His tail sweeps toward the den entrance, and he pauses, realizing that perhaps he was too brisk or too vague. "That is to say you will be my next apprentice. It is a great honor and responsibility that I ask of you. If you wish otherwise, if this path disagrees with you, this will be your only chance to say so."

//@CELANDINEPAW :)
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WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 46 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTAR (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
  
  — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
  
  — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
  
  — ★★★☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart and his own pregnancy, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
  
  — ★★★☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

​

 

[BLUEFROST]

Wolfsong has already begun to take cats to the abandoned badger set. Bluefrost watches him leave, her pelt spiked, her tail clutched close to her bulging midsection. She can see the weariness in his slumped golden shoulders, the burden gleaming in his single blue eye, but she still bristles when he approaches Celandinepaw. An outsider. Not chosen by the paws of stars, but by a desperate medicine cat with no one to succeed him. She cannot help but lift her lip as Wolfsong declares her his successor — as camp gathers closer, drawn like bees to nectar.

Cottonsprig, this was meant for you to do! She claws the earth with her foreclaws in bitter frustration. "So you have given up hope that my sister will return?" Her tone is frost-laden, whiplike, as she confronts Wolfsong. Her angry green gaze flicks to innocent Celandinepaw, and she cannot force herself to stare at the she-cat for too long.

I know she is not coming back, do I not? Bluefrost stumbles forward, her belly swinging. I know she is gone from WindClan forever, gone to raise her unholy kits. But Wolfsong does not know that; for all he knows, his protege is dead, has met an untimely fate to fox's fangs or badger's claws or a monster's unwieldy paws. For all he knows, Cottonsprig has abandoned her Clan for good — and he would be right!

Tears of frustration burn in Bluefrost's eyes, but she does not allow them to fall. She shakes her head, stubborn. "That kit she brought in... is that where this is coming from? We should get rid of her. Our Clan is in danger." My kits are in danger. She huddles under the flimsy protection of her own tail, her terror glowing green in her stretched-out eyes. Cottonsprig, stars damn you, wherever you are! You brought this on us and then left us to pick up the pieces!

And yet, no matter her fury, her heart hurts to see Wolfsong trudging toward her sister's replacement, as though he'd never found the cotton sprig outside his den. As though she'd never been chosen by the stars...

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 17 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
  — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring Brackenpaw ; previously mentored n/a.
  — windclan lead warrior and queen. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh blue smoke she-cat with white and emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.
  
  

​

 

[CELANDINEPAW]

The plague cast a grim shadow upon Windclan, pestilence a reaper of dire times, sweeping away the unfortunate and the unbidden. Coughing arose from the dens like a sea-sick melody, waning and wobbling but never truly wavering. It seemed to overtake the moorlands so quickly, pallid shadow of a cloud sinking into day, though this gloom would not pass so easily. Lungwort seemed to fade away from what little storage they had, for the gaunt beast of death vexed even the moors booned with verdancy, a danger belying the greater beauty of the idealistic lands she once dreamed of setting foot upon. All the spotted tabby had seen since coming here was strife, the strife that the clan cats had dragged into the barn so many moons ago, and brought away with them. It had sunk into her bleeding heart that the way of the wild was that of discord, and perhaps she had learned a little too late. She had seen even the most jaded of warriors dampen their gazes, as though hard-bitten by the austerity of their situation, and almost taken aback by its scornful severity. It was quite hard to keep up her spirits in this impested season, and even she felt her ardor begin to fall into bleakness.

Celandinepaw heard her name from an unexpected fount, though the medicine cat's voice had been rimed in urgency, as if fulminant request would keen heavily upon her ears. Wolfsong? Olivine eyes turned towards the wheat-hued medicine cat, and he spoke of something unbelievable - and she would have been inclined to think it a joke or a mistake, if not for the ailing hours. "Me...?" Incredulousness filled the molly's tone, like haggard sunlight smiting that which dwelled within her, a harsh and unforgiving brilliance. Her heart stopped within her chest, for even it would sit and simmer in the silt of the silence, standing face-to-face with that of an altered destiny. Cottonsprig's not coming back, is she? She could practically feel the searing heat from Bluefrost's eyes, how they dug into her fur like ruinous blaze, wildfire of terrible emotions welling up to the surface. She could not disagree with the lead warrior's anger nor her grief. She wished that it did not fall upon her to take her sister's stead, in that moment.

Why me? The evergreen question sprouted within her, quickly burgeoning into a garden of doubt, flowers waking to the sight of her despairs. She had never thought of herself as an outstanding apprentice, both in the way of the moor runner nor the medicine cat. But she had been about to graduate with her name - hadn't she been doing okay so far? Wasn't that what she had come to Windclan for? And yet, she sensed it deep down, that lingering seed of hesitation, furrowed deep within the grits and the guts. She knew she could not survive long in a place where survival weeded out the weak from the warriors. She knew she would sooner die than allow a cat to fall by her fang or claw, friend or foe. And so, she extended herself to the hand of her fate, and would allow it to leash her upon a new path, a path more suited to the soft-hearted and the compassionate. Maybe it's only temporary, was the justification that seemed most sound to her.

"I... I accept. T-Thank you for the opportunity, Wolfsong." She stammered, still halfway in utter disbelief, as though the reality of the situation had not settled into her breath and her words. There were still so many questions to be answered, loose ties tangling the way in front of her. She would ask them, in due time.

𝘗𝘙𝘌𝘔𝘖𝘕𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚 𝘚𝘔𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘐𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘋𝘈𝘙𝘒 .° ✿ °. 𝘐 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘚𝘌𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘚𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘠 𝘐𝘚 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖 𝘈𝘙𝘊

• OOC:
  
• ( NOTE: Reference is a placeholder until a drawn reference can be supplied. Credit HERE )​
  
• 

  —— CELANDINEPAW / She/They/He / 11 Moons
  —— Moor Runner Apprentice of Windclan / Mentored by Dimmingsun
  —— A shorthaired golden spotted tabby with yellowish-green eyes. Somewhat pudgy, though lean and able to hold her ground in the wild.
  —— Extroverted and unafraid to speak their mind, she is a friendly and affable face in Windclan. Though ditzy and somewhat cowardly, she tries her best to help her clan.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

​

 

[PINKSHINE]

Wolfsong emerges from his den, any already, he looks... tired. Pinkshine has never really worried about Wolfsong before. That just seemed like... like a silly thing to do. He was talented... and being a Medicine Cat didn't stop him from using his claws, too. And though he always seemed so super wise and stuff... maybe that didn't stop him from being emotionally weak. Pinkshine angles a sympathetic look his way, clinging onto a smile that's just... kinda, sorta, mostly there. He's here for a reason, though, and Pinkshine really doesn't mean to be nosy, but it's okay for her to be worried, isn't it?

So, it's true then. Yellowcough has returned. Pinkshine's stomach gives this lurch that she doesn't really like, and her smile suddenly stretches wider than before, needing to cover up how badly she wanted to frown right now. A soft breath, " Oh, " barely has time to be uttered before the Medicine Cat is carrying on swiftly, naming Celandinepaw his her apprentice. Pinkshine's eyes fly wide. Bluefrost's surprise is a whole different kind — with bristling fur and claws unsheathed. It gives Pinkshine the boost she needs to stop... standing around and looking silly. " Wolfsong needs help... " she tells Bluefrost. She knew that already, didn't she? She's just... sad. " That doesn't mean we'll forget Cottonsprig! We... I could go look for her right now, " she offers. She doesn't add again, out loud.

She looks to Celandinepaw, her friend, who'd she'd thought would be a warrior with her soon... Cottonpaw — Cottonfang, Cottonsprig had always been the Medicine Cat's Apprentice to her... So long as she was here, Pinkshine had never thought about anyone else in that place... but now that it was real, Pinkshine could look at Celandinepaw and think... okay.

Yeah... She can see it. Pinkshine can smile just a teensy bit more genuinely now. And... and soon they'd find Cottonsprig, and all three of them could be a team together. Pinkshine would try to offer a reassuring touch, her tail flicking across her friend's flank. " You're gonna do amazing, Celandinepaw! "​

 

[STOATSPOT]

Wolfsong seems tired- and with a missing medicine cat, leaving only him, Stoatspot doesn’t quite blame him. He emerges and his lone eye is set upon one cat in particular that he calls out for: Celandinepaw. Celandinepaw would be the new medicine cat apprentice in Cottonsprigs disappearance. Though he gives her a choice… It doesn’t seem like she really had much of a say to begin with.

Dual-toned gaze slides to find the tabby, eyes softening up just a smidge as they land on her. The little kitten that she had known from their shared time in the barn is all grown up now, huh? What once was a tiny scrap of fur running supplies to and fro is now a cat that would… well, essentially be doing the same thing, just with a healing twinge! The thought makes her silently giggle.

Bluefrost seems rigid at this and Stoatspot finds empathy in her heart for her. That was her sister, wasn’t it? It’d be mighty hard to not feel like Wolfsong was replacing her- but in a time of sweeping sickness… He could not work alone and not get sick himself. She has no words that would help console her, and so the kindest thing she can do is keep her mouth shut and avoid looking at her in pity. Bluefrost doesn’t seem like the type to want that.

Pinkshine chimes in a good word and Stoatspot finally makes her way closer to speak well, just as Pinkshine did. "Well, i’ll be, kiddo! Reckon you’ll be great at this." Stoatspot offers a big smile towards her, pride in her chest.

AND WHEN I WAKE GOT ANOTHER DAY ‧₊˚🍎 WOAH, LEARN FROM MISTAKES

• ❥ stoatspot ʚ♡ɞ palomino
  ❥ cis female ʚ♡ɞ she/her ʚ♡ɞ 24 months
  ❥ windclan warrior ʚ♡ɞ mentoring n/a
  ❥ fluffy black / fawn tortie chimera with heterochromia ʚ♡ɞ short, but pure muscle
  ❥ "speech, bfdb81" ʚ♡ɞ thoughts
  ❥ single ʚ♡ɞ pansexual
  ❥ smells like straw, fresh rainfall & soil ʚ♡ɞ home on the range
  ❥ penned by chuff

​

 

[dimmingsun]

Wolfsong returns to the medicine cats' den, and there is some respite to be found in his presence alone. Cottonsprig's disappearance weighs down on the Clan in more ways than one — though every member has their own worth, a skilled set of paws is nowhere near negligible when it comes to a sickness that spreads as fast as wildfire. Its already broken containment... as unofficial as it had been, anyway, its source bound within nursery walls. Dimmingsun considers himself lucky to be freed from the sickness so far. One less cat to give precious treatment to, and he's had enough of the sharp tang of herbs for a lifetime already.

When Wolfsong emerges again, it is with determination. He commands Dimmingsun's attention with ease. Celandinepaw, Wolfsong calls, and when his intentions are finally clear, Dimmingsun feels compelled to echo; "Celandinepaw."

Her place as a warrior has never been questioned by Dimmingsun. Perhaps she hadn't shown excitement for unsheathing her claws and using it on others, but that does not mean the drive is not there — she has taken control of the situation when DuskClan invaded, using the rest of her skillset to aid her Clanmates. Dimmingsun can still see her new name being called by Sunstar, her nest moving to the warriors' den... but with the seed now planted, it is just as easy to see her working tirelessly alongside Wolfsong. How had Dimmingsun not seen it before?

Bluefrost intervenes before anyone could get a word in; she cuts hope of celebration short with words sharp enough to hurt. Dimmingsun cannot blame her. They all want Cottonsprig back... and without any clue as to whether she's okay or not, the whole ordeal is made that much worse.

He understands, but- in the same vein, he wants Celandinepaw to enjoy the moment. "Pinkshine's right. Not all hope is lost yet." It's the least he could say.

Dimmingsun turns his full attention to Celandinepaw finally. She seems bewildered — Wolfsong had been quick to fling this upon her after all. But amidst the surprise of it all, there is acceptance... and he couldn't be more proud of her when she decides to accept.

"So eager to peel yourself off me," he says, face remaining faux-serious for just a moment. "Just kidding. I can see you in this role so clearly. Listen to Wolfsong like you've listened to me, and I know you'll do great."
​