private LAZY SUMMER GODDESS | herb patrol

[CELANDINEPAW]

Dawn's light purled upon the asphalt skin of the Thunderpath, like dying starlight rested upon unholy smog-and-granite hue, breaking down where only foolish felines dared pass through. The medicine cat apprentice could certainly hear it before she saw it, rumbles of incomprehensible beasts running just underneath her footfall, confined to whatever disgraceful wayside that they had deigned themselves to. The Monsters of the barn seemed friendlier, at least, resting gentle after it had done its part. These ones, sleek and dangerous as a dagger-clawed weasel or badger, did not give her the same comfort. As the patrol approached the sparsely-verdant area of the moorlands, as though the morn's sacrecy shirked away from Twoleg's creation, Celandinepaw stopped where the sawgrasses peeled away to meet sandbanks and dirt. A yawn fluttered through her throat, as dewdrop-fettered whiskers twitched. There should surely be some hidden flowers or roots around here, as she knew that it was not the most abundant area for any sort of harvest. "Um... There should be some good herbs to harvest around here. Some of them like to grow on the sides of things. I remember chickweed in particular grew around the wooden fences of the Horseplace. Maybe there's some here, too?" Celandinepaw mewed as olivine gaze darted around for any sharp scents or gaudy colors, like the herbs would simply pop up through the monotony of the virescence, and irradiate through the discordance of autumnal furor. "Use your nose rather than your eyes to guide you to the herbs. Viable ones have distinct smells that should cut through everything else. If you find one, let me know. That's all! Have fun!" She gave the patrol a cheesy grin.

𝘚𝘈𝘕𝘛𝘈 𝘔𝘖𝘕𝘐𝘊𝘈, 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘝𝘌 𝘉𝘌𝘌𝘕 𝘛𝘖𝘖 𝘎𝘖𝘖𝘋 𝘛𝘖 𝘔𝘌 ₊˚❀ ༉ ‧₊ ˚. ☘︎ 𝘐 𝘞𝘖𝘕𝘛 𝘔𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘔𝘠 𝘔𝘈𝘔𝘈 𝘗𝘙𝘖𝘜𝘋

• OUT OF CHARACTER. APOLOGIES FOR THE LATENESS! I've structured this similarly to how Rae did with Cottonsprig's herb patrol :) More information down below!
  
  AVAILABLE HERBS: 1 tormentil, 2 thyme, and 3 chickweed. All of these herbs have distinct scents. Tormentil is strongly aromatic. Thyme is strongly sharp. Chickweed is lightly fresh.
  
  ROLLS: Make sure to roll a 1d20 in your channel!
  1 - 5: FAILURE, and Y/C gets a little too close to a passing Monster! The acrid aroma of asphalt and burning smoke fills Y/C's nostrils and leaves them a little disoriented.
  6 - 10: FAILURE, try again!
  11 - 15: SUCCESS, and flip a coin / 1d2 to see if the flowers/leaves are salvageable.
  16 - 20: SUCCESS, Y/C has found a salvageable herb (make sure to highlight which kind of herb they have harvested)!
  
  TAGS: @Marigoldstem , @SCORCHSTORM , @BUCKFIRE , and @FEATHERSPINE . Have fun :3
  
  

  ❁ — MEDICINAL EXPERTISE: Celandinepaw is the current medicine cat apprentice of Windclan. Although she is quite new to her position, she also has much expertise with treatment regarding infectious diseases and basic remedies. As for anything more complex... you're better off asking a more experienced medicine cat. WOUNDS — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES — ★☆☆☆☆ INFECTIONS — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES — ★☆☆☆☆ CONTAGIOUS ILLNESSES — ★★★★☆ CHRONIC ILLNESSES — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS — ★☆☆☆☆ KITTING — ★☆☆☆☆ TRAVELING — ★★★☆☆​

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  CELANDINEPAW & TRANS WOMAN & 12 MOONS
  —— Medicine Cat Apprentice of Windclan / Mentored by Wolfsong & Cottonsprig
  —— A shorthaired, wheat-yellow spotted tabby with yellowish-green eyes. Somewhat pudgy, though lean and able to hold her ground in the wild.
  —— Extroverted and unafraid to speak her mind, she is a friendly and affable face in Windclan. Though ditzy and somewhat cowardly, she tries her best to help her clan. She is prone to outbursts when spurned or stressed.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

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[Marigoldstem]

-ˋˏ ༻༺ ˎˊ-

The thunderpath is not a pleasant smell against Marigoldstem's nose, the burn of asphalt and rubber hangs heavy in the air and while there's no literal smog to track through she believes there should be if it's going to smell that ghastly. No matter the smell she's positively as excited as a dog to be out here helping her sister out. Celandinepaw, a medicine cat apprentice, he's certain that their parents would take great pride in that if they knew what one was. Anything he can do to help her out is appealing to him, a day well spent one would argue, even if the thunderpath was not a cherished place to go. Why a herb patrol would be sent out here is beyond her but then again she's not here to tell others what to do, quite content in playing a supporting role.

The mention of chickweed perks his ears up, he's seen that for sure around Horseplace, vaguely knew the word to it since he found it funny that it was so fitting for where it grew. Apart from that he wasn't actually sure what any plants or herbs were called, not having the best knowledge dispite his mothers affinity, it seems that was turned to Celandinepaw. Not that he particularly minded, happy that it was passed down to one of them at least. "you got it sis" he grins at her kindly and with a flick of his tail sets off to try and find some kind of plant.

Tracking skills should be applicable here right? These aren't moving targets by any means so it should be relatively easy to find them right? He sure hopes so anyways, it's almost comical how he walks with his face grazing the ground, unsure of how someone should actually scent for herbs. It works well enough despite the awkward display and the fact that he accidentally feels paw pads brush against the asphalt of the thunderpath once or twice. Instead of finding chickweed like he hoped he instead is greeted with something strong and sharp, later on he would learn it to be thyme but for now he is none the wiser to it.

"Is this any good?" he calls out, proud of himself for actually finding something. Paying no mind to the rather sad look of the thyme. It's slightly shrivelled, maybe from the coating of chemicals that spell out from the monsters in the area. If he was more focused on the quality of the herb rather than just being over the moon to find one he would have thought twice before calling Celandinepaw over.

|| rolled a 11 but the thymes not salvageable! ||
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[BUCKFIRE]

Flanking @SCORCHSTORM on what was Buckfire's first herb patrol, he was not the most enthused about going about pickin' daisies or whatever he was supposed to be doing, but he at least had a task to complete. Contributing to WindClan in a relatively minor way was more meaningful than wasting his life away in a barn somewhere, watching the sun rise and fall and the grasshoppers prance about.

Celandinepaw mentions an herb, chickweed, which is unfamiliar to Buckfire by name but perhaps recognizable by scent... As someone who's traveled the boundaries of Horseplace many times, he's confident that he could pick up on the scent quickly.

Heeding the medicine cat apprentice's advice to utilize his sniffer and not his eyes, the new warrior lowers his noggin to the ground and begins seeking a smell like a bloodhound. Monster stench reeks from the Thunderpath, filling his nostrils with each inhalation. It reminded Buckfire of the city, that dark and dirty place. His home farm may have been dull and boring, but at least it didn't stink like this.

Then, Buckfire catches something. His molten eyes light up as he's nearly certain that he's tracked down the right plant. The tom verified with his eyes — leafy green stems with little white flowers at their centers. Those definitely grew around the Horseplace.

Having plucked the chickweed and taken it into his jaws, the moor runner holds his head high as he trots on over toward Celandinepaw. "I believe I found what yer' lookin' for." Buck mrrows with a grin, awaiting words of praise from the spotted tabby. Maybe he wasn't so bad at this herb-hunting thing, after all.

𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ✹ . + ˚ · 　 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋

• rolled an 18!

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  — buckfire / 32 moons / he/him pronouns
  — windclan moor runner / shadowing scorchstorm / former loner
  — sh black tabby w/ orange eyes, nick in left ear & scratch on right side of lip
  — click for tags

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[SCORCHSTORM]

Herb patrols often harbor a strange feeling for the flaming molly. This is not her first by any stretch, but even if it was her first patrol on WindClan's own soil, it would still not be the first herb patrol of her life. That honor, as far as she can remember, went to the mountains — went to the lungwort she trekked so perilously to retrieve. Every herb gathering afterward has been considerably less daunting, and that reduction in pressure should certainly make her glad, or relieved, or something. But instead, Scorchstorm finds that herb patrols still bring with them a terrible foreboding, a reminder that disease never truly ends no matter how hard she or anyone else works to destroy it.

A lack of enthusiasm does not a poor scavenger make, though. Her nose works fine whether she is confident or not. Like her apprentice, she is familiar enough with the Horseplace fences that she thinks she might be able to recognize chickweed, even if she has never put a name to its scent before. If only the Thunderpath were not so awful. The tarmac stinks even this early into the day, before the sun has seen fit to roast it so fully and spread its acrid stink around the territory. Scorchstorm wrinkles her nose at it but remains undeterred.

Marigoldstem is the first of all of them to find something. His thyme wilts sadly, black at the edges of its leaves, but it is... something. Buck finds a healthy sprig of chickweed. Its mild, fresh scent permeates the air now — and it isn't only coming from the sprig in his jaws, she realizes. Dual-toned hues cart about the Thunderpath for the herb's siblings, hoping that there are more shoots poking through the grass than any of them realize. It is not the flashy purple that lungwort is, but Scorchstorm's heart thuds with dim satisfaction as she spots more of the small, white flowers and uproots them in her teeth.

"Here," she utters, offering the sprig to the medicine cat dutifully. Once Celandinepaw accepts, the lead warrior returns to the search.

𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍’𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 ✧

• ooc. rolled a 17 and found more chickweed!
  
• SCORCHSTORM —— lead warrior of windclan, mentored by sunstar & badgermoon . scorchstreak x badgermoon . littermate to rumblerain, frostwind, and luckypaw ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a broad-shouldered tortoiseshell with low white and dual-toned amber eyes. extremely loyal to sunstar and her family, and enjoys a deep connection to the moorlands
  ✦ demigirl / she they pronouns / lesbian / 18 moons & ages every 1st
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will start fights / will not flee / may show mercy. fights honorably and with great ferocity. can tank a few hits, but is not the sturdiest cat in windclan. starts fights with the intention of finishing them permanently, but will not aim to maim or kill obviously young cats
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

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[FEATHERSPINE]

The scowl carved stony and unmoving on Featherspine's face had darkened the longer and longer this journey had stretched on. His skin felt crumpled with annoyance, and as with every twist of ill temperament he felt, he did not hide it very well; being on patrol for herbs was not where he felt his skills were best used. Far be it from her to bark questions at authority- she knew her place, though Scorchstreak had earned a bemused, embittered look from her.

The Thunderpath, too- he would rather be anywhere else, and Featherspine's silence was a frigid, uncomfortable thing- he didn't bother even to engage Scorchstorm, who he liked quite well. The stench of the Path, miasmic and choking, was not helpful- Featherspine dragged her feet as she kept her nose close to the ground, mumbling, "Had I wanted to b-b-be a medicine cat, I would have had an easy in," with a twist of irritation. Yes, when he'd still had kitten eyes, they couldhave pleaded to learn ... with it in his blood, would she have been denied?

Something caught her eye, then - something very strong, wholly recognisable. Cutting through everything, like Calandinepaw had said. Still, the leaves and flowers, green and yellow, looked a bit blackened by the path-fumes. Featherspine's face curved into very identifiable disgust. "Is this anything?" she asked, feeling deeply humiliated for having to ask.

\ rolled a 14 for tormentil but it isn't salvageable!​

✦ penned by pin​