camp makes me evil ;; cleaning

[cottonsprig]

Vulturemask's medicine den is a dubious place to Cottonpaw. Weaselclaw and Sunflowerpaw have both recently left its clutches, neither unscathed but both still breathing - and she, a recent visitor much to her own chagrin. She's grateful that the black tom doesn't withhold entirely her from her duties due to her injuries. She's limited to camp for a week or so, but allowed to at least conduct minor apprentice-bound duties. She wonders if it's a purposeful limitation - given her normal behavior, maybe he'd rather her walk off her wounds than listen to her badger him about the herbs he's using. Better to save his ears than to save her hind end - again. She swallows thickly with the reminder.

Regardless of her feelings towards the intense smelling den, Cottonpaw feels as if she owes the black tom that lives within it. She knows better than to even dare touching his storage. She would get the same treatment as that - that hawk did, maybe even worse. But with the tom's infirmary effectively empty for right now (and a potential war on the horizon) maybe it'd be nice to help him reset a couple of the old, decaying nests.

She gathers as much moss as she can without completely depleting their early greenleaf growth and heads towards the medicine den with all the confidence she can muster. "Vulturemask...?" Cottonpaw calls out, waiting for some sort of gruff reply in response. She notices the nest closest to the den's entrance and decides that she can at least make an example of the work she wants to provide - and maybe she can get some help from other cats in need of busying. She tugs apart the old nest, retaining its basic shape and reinforcing it with newer, softer moss. It's only then that she realizes the entire process is far more slow going than she realized.​

 

[SUNFLOWERMASK]

.°☀ AND IF IT EVER STARTS TO FEEL BAD, LITTLE FANG

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Sunflowerpaw watches with quiet curiosity as Cottonpaw makes her way towards the medicine den, moss in her mouth. It was not too long ago that they both of them had been in there, Sunflowerpaw still on the mend from their moon-old injury and Cottonpaw lost in the shock of a fresh one. A cruel gift from a hawk, talon-marks across her back, just like the medicine cat's own scars. They'd stayed with her, that night, filled with an uneasy concern at her hollow stare, watching as their brother treated her wounds. Shallow, thankfully. She'd been quick to leave as soon as she was able.

It's strange to see her heading back now, so they trail after. The moss she carries -- another gift, perhaps? But no, after she calls the medicine cat's name, she starts messing with the nest closest to the entrance. (The one they themself had stayed in, now bereft of its adornments, quickly moved back to their apprentice nest once they were permitted to once again sleep under the stars.) Sunflowerpaw creeps closer, sees her slowly replacing the moss, freshening it up. Oh, that's a good idea.

Sunflowerpaw moves softly towards the nest, looking to Cottonpaw first with a small wave of their tail in greeting. If she's wanting to help out in the medicine den, they're happy to join. Wordlessly, they take their place beside her and begin tugging away the dried moss. This will go faster with the both of them working together, they know.

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IT'S EASY TO EXPLAIN 'CAUSE THIS WORLD'S NOT TAME .°☀

⟪ OOC ⟫ ⟪ INFO ⟫ ⟪ REF ⟫

• //​
• SUNFLOWERPAW named by their half-brother vulturemask after his friend and mentor.
  — they/them, 5 moons. semiverbal.
  — windclan apprentice, mentored by wolfsong.
  — reserved yet loyal, distrusts most.
  — mild limp due to a poorly healed injury to their front paw.
  
  primary character, high activity. penned by saturnid.​
• 

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[Periwinklebreeze.]

STEADY THE RIGHTS AND THE WRONGS
periwinklepaw | 09 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically easy (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff

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The medicine den is never truly empty - not with vulturemask and periwinklepaw residing within. But it's certainly without many patients these days compared to the amount that had been crammed into every crevice after the battle against riverclan. It had almost felt as though there was not a single cat who had come out unscathed - perhaps there hadn't been. It's not as though he'd know.

Exhaustion has settled heavily upon the boy once more despite his recently improved spirits - to the point where he's flopped down in his nest and not moved since dawn. Clear gaze is unfocused and bleary with sleep - or the lack thereof really - as he hears a quiet voice call out for his brother in all but blood. Oh - it's cottonpaw. That's an unexpected face for sure, but then again he supposes he knows what it's like to have the black tom swoop in and save you from certain death. Who wouldn't worship him after such an experience?

Sunflowerpaw is nearby too he notes after a moment - tail waving slowly in greeting as he just observes. The nest is an empty one anyways - there is no harm in the two poking about. As long as they don't touch his, old and prickly as the moss is by now, he will be fine. His comfort matters less than the items kept within after all. Now if only he could sleep.
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[LAMBCURL.]

Lambcurl finds it a wonder that the two of them linger, now released from the den that had once held them up. Youthful exuberance often did not mesh with the time and patience healing took, particularly, he'd think, in the paws of one not so experienced. But the role of medicine cat was a niche one – never before heard where he had come from. A young mind would surely latch onto such a thought, claiming spryness and energy abound if it meant they could stretch their legs.

It was no old wound though, he recalls. Brutal in nature, a first encounter that could have tore the very spirit out of himself, when he'd started. Perhaps it came with a certain wisening. Straightening of the spine – duty owed, job performed well, for all that Vulturemask truly knew. Miracle, indeed. And a miracle, he shall be rewarded with... Lambcurl is but an onlooker to it all, his usual smile placid upon his face. He himself is blessed with deft paws when it came to such a thing, but for them – ? Well, Lambcurl cannot help but peruse in a nosy fashion, lips pinched in preparation to offer help, if so needed. Of course, Cottonkit already had a friend with her, though.

〖 OOC 𓆩ꕥ𓆪 NOTES 〗

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  LAMBCURL: HE / HIM , CISGENDER MALE ; GAY & SINGLE, IN LOVE WITH EVERYBODY TBH ; TUNNELER OF WINDCLAN ; 41 MOONS
  
  tiny, curly - furred albino tom with teary pink eyes. ; dreamy – eyed and dreamy – minded, Lambcurl drags himself across the land with an ever-present smile and glassy bug eyes. Deeply honored to hold his position as a tunneler and whisperingly reverent with everything he does. Somewhat unnerving in ideals and the way he speaks, but he means well.
  — tentative voice claim: fox mulder
  

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