- Feb 3, 2024
- 56
- 5
- 8
Juniper, marigold, poppy seeds.
It had been some time since they had gone on that patrol - the one that had seemed to start the cascade of heartbreak that ThunderClan had faced over the past few moons. Things were never easy, and that was to be expected; it was the life of warrior. Living each day not knowing what the sunrise would bring, watching the world move in whatever rhythm it felt so inclined to that day, not knowing whether or not you would see the sun rise again tomorrow. The tempo of life varied vastly by the day, by the hour, even by the minute. A slow, melodic drawl could quickly become a scramble to stay on beat, a rush while trying not to trip over anyone's feet, and it could happen within seconds. He'd known that, from the losses he'd experienced in his life previously, of course, but watching his clanmates face that kind of tragedy over, and over, and over again was difficult, and even when it was cats he did not know well, the grief of those left behind tugged at his heart. And Gentlestorm, as the clan healer, was always facing death head on, given that he had to help prepare the bodies of the lost, given that he could commune with their ancestors, given that many came to him with their loss - and of course, he could not understand exactly what that was like, or exactly how the snowy tom was feeling, but it was easy to see the way that he was always working. How tired he was. He couldn't confirm it, really, but it seemed fairly clear that he was pushing himself to work as a form of distraction - the same way that he did (though it was a concern when others did it, and not when it was himself).
It should've occurred to him sooner that Gentlestorm may not actually need those herbs at this point, given how long it's been, but he keeps an eye out as he hunts anyway - without much luck, unfortunately, on the part of the flowers and berries, but he does make a successful catch. He couldn't be sure whether the medicine cat had eaten yet or not, and for a moment he lingers at the mouth of the medicine den, a little uncertain before he enters, setting down the vole that he'd caught. "Gentlestorm," With a brief dip of his head, he greets the fuzzy tom politely, "Have you eaten yet?" He asks the question, but the offer of his catch doesn't really need to be voiced. If he hadn't, Copperfang hoped at least that he'd take a minute to do so now before plunging back into his work, taking at least a few moments for himself.
IT'LL HELP YOU
: ̗̀➛
SOME SUNNY DAY
- speech, thoughts, actions
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☼ SH chocolate ticked tabby tom w/amber eyes
☼ 47 moons; ages every 3rd,npc x npc
☼ cis male he/him; bisexual, not purposely looking
☼ currently mentoring roaringpaw
☼ peaceful & healing powerplay permitted
☼ easy to befriend; will not start fights, will end fights