I SPY // herb hunting (phase 2)

[Puddlepaw.]

I WANT TO BELONG
LIKE THE BIRDS IN THE TREES ​

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puddlepaw & 09 moons & demi-girl & she/they & windclan apprentice ​

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As deft paws carry dust-hued frame along well worn paths, blue eyes shut in contentment - more then willing to ignore the cold weather in favor of humming a wordless tune as she wobbles and weaves. Puddlepaw, turthfulky, hasnt got the faitnest clue what she's looking for as mismatched gaze roves over the greenery - no longer so green after leafbares first frost has taken its toll. Still, finding herbs is important - without medicine, sickness can be deadly, and while some part of Puddlepaw will always revere the morbid, she'd much rather have moons of exploration and adventure ahead of her. A gleam of... something catches her eye, and the molly pauses - ink stained head tilting as she peers into the long grass. " I found cobwebs, I think, " she hollers - these, at least, she knows are useful.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

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B L U E B I R D S ━ F O R E V E R ━ C O L O U R ━ T H E ━ S K Y

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// 8 - common herb, 1 point
Mobile ♡

 

[DIMMINGSUN]

"Now these—" comes the voice of Dimmingsun from behind Puddlepaw first, soon migrating to beside her, "—I can actually identify."

In an ideal world, Dimmingsun would only ever hunt for his Clan... but then, in an ideal world, he would never get bored nor ashamed after failure. Even the most skilled hunters need a break from such a repetitive and sometimes frustrating task; and Dimmingsun is far from the most skilled one anyhow, so he deserves to shift his focus sometimes. Except... if he is no skilled hunter, then he is not even a decently knowledgeable about herbs. Cottonsprig could try to treat his injuries with a blade of grass, and he would be none the wiser.

Just a few tail-lengths away, more cobwebs coat the fields. Retrieval is easy with big paws, and as he does so, he doesn't miss the opportunity to boast a little. "Dimmingsun, medicine cat of WindClan at your service."

Rolled 10; 1 point.

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[SEDGEPOUNCE]

There was once a time when Sedgepounce wanted nothing more than to be a medicine cat. He'd huddle in the medicine den awash with fever, staring forlornly at the herb stocks in the hopes that Wolfsong would just...impart some knowledge to him through osmosis or something. He'd wanted it so bad that only divine intervention could hold his tongue over losing the apprenticeship. Now those days are gone and worn and fuzzy in his memory, and nowadays the closest to medicine he gets is visiting Cottonsprig in her den. Foliage just looks like foliage to him—osmosis be damned.

After several minutes of sniffing around some plants that he's pretty sure are just weeds, Sedgepounce wanders back to the patrol empty pawed. "Ooooohhh, cobwebs. Those mollies gotta watch out before you two take their jobs," the tomcat jokes, his smile a little tired at the edges. He'd hoped to really repay Cottonsprig for the herbs he'd wasted...Maybe another time, with better luck.

// rolled a 5
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[bramblepaw -]

✦ The golden eyed girl had very little need for herbs - somehow, in all her boisterous kithood adventures, she'd never injured herself enough to warrant a visit to the medicine cat den, let alone some leaves or cobwebs to be wasted on her. That was probably for the best, so that herbs could go to the people who actually required them. The closest Bramblepaw had ever gotten to herbs had been when she'd desperately snuck in last moon to look for something to soothe her aching joints, though her sneaking had been terrible and Cottonsprig had caught her almost instantly. Suffice to say, the apprentice didn't know much about herbs.

That didn't stop her from helping others look for them, of course. How would it look if Sootspot's daughter, Scorchstorm's apprentice, hung back in camp when there was jobs to be done? Bad, she knew that much. She nosed through the frost-bitten ground cover, searching for anything that didn't smell of cold or grass or dirt. "Hey, medicine cat, are these any good?" She asked with a smile, pulling back to gently bat at an unfamiliar plant and glance around the party. "They smell good. Well, they smell bad, but helpful, don't they?"

//rolled a 19; 3 points!​

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[MAELSTROMPAW]

Maelstrompaw trudges through the frosted grasses, his paws crunching against the brittle ground as he keeps his focus sharp. The crisp air nips at his whiskers, but the bite of the cold doesn't bother him right now. His breath puffs out in small clouds as he scans the rimed plants, eyes narrowing at every potential find. The others chatter, their voices mingling like birdsong, but Maelstrompaw tunes them out. He has to focus on the task at hand, to make sure he's of some help to the Clan. He pauses, spotting a flash of color against the muted whites and browns of the frosted field. It's faint, but unmistakable—golden petals, shriveled at the edges but still holding their vibrant hue. He crouches down, brushing aside frost with a careful paw to reveal a cluster of goldenrod growing stubbornly against the odds. A faint smile tugs at his lips, pride swelling at the discovery.

"That's something," he hums to himself, his voice quiet and deliberate. It's a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. "Still good enough to use." Without hesitation, Maelstrompaw begins plucking the flowers with care, leaving the roots intact in case they regrow come newleaf. He thinks this is supposed to help heal wounds—an herb Cottonsprig would be glad to have stocked. As he straightens, he casts a glance toward the others. "Guys, I found something!" he calls out with a little grin. He's glad to find a way to be of use, to provide for the cats around him.

[ rolled a 12! ]​

 

[Vulturepaw]

˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖ Vulturepaw has seen firsthand how important the medicine cats' stores are. He remembers through a haze the sight of Quietcrow's cold body, the slow wasting away of DuskClan's leader. He snuffles through the grasses with ears pinned back, mind whirling with fears of what leafbare may bring. It is the season of illness, he has heard in whispers. He cannot imagine anything worse than what WindClan has already faced, dreads a repeat of that terror.

He can't focus. He pulls his head back up to look at the rest of the patrol forlornly. Their light banter fits awkwardly for Vulturepaw, and he ducks his head down. Amber eyes slide towards Bramblepaw. "It's, um, good for them t-to smell bad. I think." Lungwort smelled horrid, and that's one of the most important herbs in the forest. He tries not to feel bad about the younger apprentice being more successful than him. It is very difficult.

I HAD TO LEARN THAT THE HELPING HAND ⛧ CAN BE THE SAME THAT HOLDS THE KNIFE

• // rolled a 2 ;-;
• 

  
  
  "SPEECH"
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• 
  VULTUREPAW ⛧ he / any, apprentice of windclan, nine moons.
  ➳ a spiky-furred dark tabby with amber eyes.
  ➳ skittish and dour, with a superstitious sort of pessimism.
  ➳ micheal x npc, adopted by periwinklebreeze.
  ➳ sibling to dustpaw, bilberrypaw, mourningpaw and weepingpaw.
  ➳ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ➳ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

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