- Mar 3, 2024
- 76
- 17
- 8
A metaphorical stormcloud is tethered to Lionpaw's head, following the boy into camp as he returns from the hunting patrol empty-jawed. His attempts at securing a catch at Snakerocks had been foiled due to a literal slip-up. His paw pad was scratched and slowly oozing with crimson; ultimately nothing major but still worthy of him being sent back to camp. Mousebrain. Lionpaw insults himself for making a mistake. Just when he thought he was improving at hunting, something had to happen.
Fluffy tail wilted like a dying flower, the chocolate torbie point trudged to the entrance of the medicine den and tilted his head, blue eyes searching the darker space for a familiar form of red and white. Fireflyglow was not in camp at the moment, as he was out scouting for herbs, so he hadn't a choice but to consult the senior healer. "Hey, Dawnglare?" The longhaired apprentice mews.
When the large two-toned form finally comes into view, Lionpaw twitches a whisker uncomfortably. He's never interacted with the medicine cat too much as he always let his own brother tend to his minor injuries. "I scraped my paw on a rock while I was huntin' today." Lionpaw explains with a certain hesitance, thin pupils searching Dawnglare's features for any signs of irritation or dismay. The older cat was intimidating, admittedly. He had snapped at Slate, of all cats, a few days ago and drove the warrior out of the den. "Could you look at it...?" Maybe Dawnglare would simply dress his small scrape and send him on his way.
Fluffy tail wilted like a dying flower, the chocolate torbie point trudged to the entrance of the medicine den and tilted his head, blue eyes searching the darker space for a familiar form of red and white. Fireflyglow was not in camp at the moment, as he was out scouting for herbs, so he hadn't a choice but to consult the senior healer. "Hey, Dawnglare?" The longhaired apprentice mews.
When the large two-toned form finally comes into view, Lionpaw twitches a whisker uncomfortably. He's never interacted with the medicine cat too much as he always let his own brother tend to his minor injuries. "I scraped my paw on a rock while I was huntin' today." Lionpaw explains with a certain hesitance, thin pupils searching Dawnglare's features for any signs of irritation or dismay. The older cat was intimidating, admittedly. He had snapped at Slate, of all cats, a few days ago and drove the warrior out of the den. "Could you look at it...?" Maybe Dawnglare would simply dress his small scrape and send him on his way.
