In A Room That's Growing Dim | Ravenpaw

[Mosspool]

The sunset spread like wildfire across the waters surrounding Riverclan's camp, and Mosspaw watched them. This would be the last sunset of the only medicine cat she had ever known. By the time the sun set again, Riverclan would have a new medicine cat.

Of course, that was not entirely true. Beesong's time was already over. Mosspaw kept having to remind herself of that, the thought refused to stick. Beesong had always been there, theirs was the face she imagined from the title medicine cat. They had felt immortal to her, as Cicadastar did. The chosen of Starclan, unable to ever fall. The idea that someone else might hold that title felt strange to her.

It would be right, she decided, to pay her respects to Ravenpaw before the sunrise. Raising toward her paws, she turned toward the medicine den. At the entrance though, she hesitated. her ear flicked.

Then she pushed through the sedge, and into the medicine den.

A glance around the clearing found it too empty without Beesong. It took her a moment to spot Ravenpaw among that vacuum. "Hello." Mosspaw dipped her head in respect toward him. "I wanted to wish you safe travels on your journey to Moonstone." As she went to raise her head, she hesitated for a moment, uncertain if she should have kept it dipped for longer, before raising her head entirely.

Mosspaw couldn't figure out what level of respect she should be giving him. At this moment, he was just an apprentice like her. Their areas of study were different, but their authority was the same. From that view, he was due as little respect as she gave her sibling Hazepaw. As soon as he returned from his journey tomorrow, however, he would be the medicine cat of Riverclan. The chosen of Starclan and a key member of Cicadastar's council. The hours between then and now seemed too few to discount entirely.

Then there was the fact that, unlike Hazepaw, she didn't really know Ravenpaw. It felt strange to her to try and treat him too cordially.

They had seen each other around camp, of course. There had even been a few exchanged words. In her mind, though, he had always been in Beesong's shadow. Too much older and too differently taught to be a peer to train alongside, but of too little importance for her to idolize.

For a moment she simply looked at Ravenpaw, seeming to weigh his worth in her mind. As if by simply staring long enough she measure in strictly defined units exactly how much respect he deserved.

"Do you think you'll be a good medicine cat?" The words came too suddenly, and the moment they were out in the air she looked almost ashamed of it. The question was too sharp in her mind to deny, however.​

 

[RAVENSONG]

For at least a week since Beesong's death, Ravenpaw had lived in a timeless haze. Words were heard but not understood. His paws moved in mechanical fashion without him thinking. He wondered if this was the closest a living cat would feel to being dead. Still, he could not shake the habit of looking over his shoulder or calling out to Beesong when an emergency occurred. The scarred tabby had been shorter than him, and without that guiding presence by his shoulder, Ravenpaw felt utterly lost.

He was laying in his nest, eyes open and staring unseeing at the edge of the sedge that protected the medicine den clearing.

Hello.

He raised his head suddenly, blinking wide as his brain attempted to jumpstart into activity. His fur lay flat when he recognized Mosspaw—a hardworking daughter of one of Ravenpaw's favorite and respected warriors. "Mosspaw... thank you," He rasped, slowly rising to his feet and teetering carefully out of his woven nest. A silence fell over them then, Ravenpaw's paws sinking into the earth. Mosspaw was right. It felt empty without Beesong. Not quite quiet, as the mentor and apprentice pair were taciturn themselves. That had not changed.

He was still in words an apprentice. He was not permitted to leave camp along just like the others. In his mind, he had only recently accepted he would have to take the full mantle of his position. Mosspaw voiced clearly what was on his mind.

He remembered the mixed reaction to his appointment to medicine cat apprentice. Drypaw, kitty-pet mother, Ravenpaw knew they were placing their ancestral connection in a cat that was foreign.

Ravenpaw was silent for a moment, and then he chuckled.

"Do you think you'll be a good warrior?"

​

 

[Mosspool]

It was worring, seeing Ravenpaw like this. Part of her worried that he would not be prepared for the journey tomorrow. What would happen to the clan, she wondered, if he was simply unable to go. She tried to ignore that thought the best she could.

"Do you think you'll be a good warrior?"

"Yes." Mosspaw's response was instant, without a moment of hesitation or consideration. It was, in her mind, a fact that she would be a good warrior. She had done everything right, followed all the rules, and trained until she perfected everything she was taught. The warriors of the clan had all praised her for doing so. Their words made her certain that she was on the right path. Of course, if she strayed from that path, the facts may change. So long as she did not, however, she was certain that she would one day become a good warrior. An great one, even.

Hers was the childish confidence of someone who had never really failed before.

The path Ravenpaw walked was different, though. After a second of thought, she added, "But being a medicine cat is harder than being a warrior, is it not?" Mosspaw realized, as she spoke, that she did not really know. A medicine cat had more authority than a warrior, so she assumed it must be harder, but Ravenpaw would know better than her. She regarded him curiously. "I could learn all the herbs, I think, with time. It would be just like I learned how to fight or hunt. I do not know if I would be able to learn the Starclan stuff though." She made the realization aloud, talking through her thoughts as she had them. Yes, she thought, Starclan was what would make it harder.

"I believe in Starclan, as we all do." Mosspaw reassured him quickly, not wanting her words to be mistaken for a lack of faith. "I am just not sure I understand them. I have tried. I really have. But, their ways seem much more complicated than fighting or hunting." Her eyes fell away from his gaze, drifting about the den around them. "I would not want your position."

There was a beat of silence from her, after those words. With everything she had done, she had tried to be the best. Even when she was a kit, her mother had been amused at how she tried to hard to be the best at mossball, and had been even more so when she succeeded. Being a medicine cat, however, was something she could never be the best at. Which made her grateful that she would never have to try to be.

Two green eyes affixed on Ravenpaw once more. "You did not answer my question."​

 

[RAVENSONG]

The instant reply brought a near smile to Ravenpaw's face. He lifted his chin up, eyes relaxing. If he were still a warrior's apprentice and had been asked that very question, he could not say that he would have responded in the same resounding manner. He had no luxury of being born here. In many ways, he understood that his lineage made him one step outside of an outsider. Yet Beesong had trusted to place his medical legacy within his paws.

"Harder," He mused thoughtfully. "Not if it is right for you. I learn medicine easier than hunting and fighting. Sometimes it really can be something you were born to do." Destiny was still a concept that Ravenpaw liked to shy away from. His appointment to medicine cat apprentice was one that was not given a sign by StarClan. Beesong had not told him it was his destiny and yer Ravenpaw felt that finally he had a place to belong.

Then Mosspaw developed her theory and Ravenpaw's fur ruffled in interest. She was right—that was the one aspect of the medicine cat realm that no warrior could be able to wrap their mind around fully. Even Ravenpaw held his shortcomings about it close to his chest. He was reminded of how short his faith was at every medicine cat gathering.

"You're right, Mosspaw." His bony shoulders fell. She believes, as we all do. Ravenpaw's lungs expanded in their cavity. "It's alright to not understand fully. My job is to give the dead a voice. But knowing... I suppose that is one part of my training that I will never finish. You need a lifetime to understand that." Perhaps that was why they joined StarClan only after death.

"You're right." He smiled as if he had fish bones stuck in his cheek. His eyes looked over Mosspaw, a quiet and dignified apprentice who knew what she would become. She was his peer, so he would not coddle her. She had proven to be more observant than most. "Yes. I have to be." He finally replied, his voice dipping back into its usual somber. "But I'm not ready, I will admit that. But that is not up to me. Pray for me, maybe, before I go?"

​

 

[Mosspool]

Mosspaw nodded along as he told her that it was not really harder to learn medicine. Especially not for him. That made sense to her. Though she knew nothing of it, the ways of herbs made sense to her in a very basic way. Everything did something, and all you had to do was memorize what it all did. That felt like something she would be able to do. Unlike him, she had no particular talent for either the ways of a warrior or those of a medicine cat. What she did have was sheer, focused work ethic. Her excellence did not come from any particular affinity for what she had been taught, but simply spending more time than her peers studying and training.

Her ear flicked as he told her that it was alright not to understand. "That does not make any sense." She told him bluntly, frustration evident in her tone. Of all cats, she had hoped that he would have a different answer. "Everyone always says that, so it must be true, but it does not make any sense. How are we meant to follow the will of the stars if we cannot understand that will? How are you meant to do your job if you do not understand the job you are doing?" Her words came quickly as she argued her case with a sudden passion. She stared at him for a long moment after her last word. Then, with a blink, she seemed to realize how she must seem to him. With a little huff of annoyance, she stepped back and composed herself to be her usual, formal self. "That does not make any sense." Mosspaw stated firmly, attempting to hide her uncertainty behind her rigid insistence.

The idea that Starclan could not be understood did not sit well with her. She could make peace with the idea that she did not understand, even if she desperately wanted to. But someone had to. Starclan was the highest authority, the only thing above even Cicadastar. The idea that they would always be a mystery...

Mosspaw didn't want to think about that.

When he told her that he thought he would be a good medicine cat, because he had to be, she perked back up. "Good." She told him gladly with a nod. His word had her faith. If he said he would do a good job, then she believed him. Simple as that. "I will pray for you."

"Though, there are better cats to ask for prayers from then me." Mosspaw added evenly after a moment of thought. There was nothing wrong with that in her mind, it was merely a statement of fact. Starclan had a lot of cats to watch over. The prayers of Cicadastar and his council were much more important than her own. For that matter, most of the warriors in the clan would probably have priority over her. She was only an apprentice after all. Given his station, she had no doubt Ravenpaw would have no trouble soliciting prayers from any or all of them.​

 

[RAVENSONG]

Ravenpaw was silent, allowing Mosspaw to speak her case. He did not know. He had never gotten a prophecy before. But he was well aware of the ghosts' difficult means of communication. He had been too young then, but it had been spoken that Buckgait was appointed deputy because of a sign Beesong gave. Now all Ravenpaw could remember of the former deputy was Cicadastar's screaming and her subsequent demotion.

"I am a living cat, just as all of us." He did not make an effort to defend himself, but he was careful to pick his next words as Mosspaw spoke. "There are things a living mind cannot comprehend. Such as why StarClan continues to allow Sootstar to live. And sometimes prophecies... there are instances of mistakes. I have to tread lightly when it comes to them. The spirits know, and they will not answer me or anyone in clear words... as it stands." He remembered challenging Beesong on that point of Sootstar. The unfettered power he had over the Clan was now realized in that moment. He was the interpreter of signs and omens—the star's mouthpiece to their kin. He took notice of how Mosspaw expected him to know the answers when he was only a paw-full of moons older than she. He could say anything, and they would listen. How could a cat not become mad with that power?

A black and white image of a cat flashed across his mind.

He did not think it was prudent to smile at Mosspaw's reply for his askance of prayers. Regardless, his heart warmed ever so slightly. "Prayers do not have different weights. They all must make it to the sky, so they are weightless and all equal... whether it was uttered by an elder or a leader." As he spoke it, he could almost believe what he was saying felt true.

​

 

[Mosspool]

Mosspaw fell silent for a moment, considering Ravenpaw's words. "I guess so." The answer still felt unsatisfactory to her. She wanted to be able to measure the stars in precise units, to learn their workings as simply as she had learned those of her own clan. That was how she had ensured that she would become a good warrior. By following all the rules and all the teachings that she had learned to the strictest letter, taking note whenever she faltered, and striving to follow them ever closer. That was what she wanted from Starclan. Without it... "Then, how will I know if I'm dong what they would want?" She asked, looking to Ravenpaw. As with everything else in her life, she wanted a way to measure how well she was doing. A way to succeed in the eyes of Starclan.

His little comment about her prayers did noting to abate her uncertainty.

"That seems... inefficient." Mosspaw muttered, half to herself, confusion writ across her features. She did not mean to contradict him with her words. Ravenpaw spoke with such certainty that what he saidmust be true, but she could not wrap her mind around it. The idea that her own prayer might be weighed equally with that of Cicadastar himself was strange to her. Then, her face lit up. "Ah! But Starclan's power is limitless. They can hear any number of prayers, so they have no need to prioritize." As she concluded her realization, she shone with the eagerness and pride of a student who had just figured out a particularly tricky problem. Ravenpaw was wise indeed, she decided, to know such things already. Starclan seemed to make so much more sense to him then it did to her, even though he claimed not to understand them.

Looking over him anew, she dipped her head in respect. "You will be a good medicine cat." She stated decidedly, leaving no room for question.​