private ONE LESS PROBLEM // tigersting

Tigersting approaching her early in the afternoon wasn't odd, per say, but it wasn't normal either. Wolfsong and Sunstar's litter moved to walk their own paths once they found apprenticehood, and further from the medicine den they often strolled. Tigersting among them, the usually peppy and talkative she-cat forming new bonds with her new denmates, no doubt. Cottonsprig had let them go, had loosed her own unknown reign from the litter. It's weird, now, to see them fully fledged adults when she often still sees the wide eyed and bushy tailed kittens she once kitsat... but she supposes the same can be said for her, sometimes.

They're now wandering the moorlands, the green grasses dying with the change of seasons. "Honey is a little harder to gather in leaf fall," Cottonsprig keeps the air filled with chatter, trying to desperately dispel the weird air between herself and the chocolate molly. "Bees don't make as much due to the plant life dying, and we try to not take as much from them because - well... if everyone took our prey, we'd die out too, y'know?" A morbid relation, no doubt, but one that made sense. She spies a hive up ahead and twitches an ear to move closer.

In the short bout of silence, Cottonsprig looks to the other. She pulls her lips into a thin line, and then a mournful smile. "You're worried for him?" she asks nonchalantly. It's obvious, not to mention... who wouldn't be? Wolfsong had been so important to the Clan for seasons upon seasons, after all. His recovery is slow going, but even when ensured it doesn't change the pain and fear that dwell in some hearts.

  • ooc // @TIGERSTING
  • MEDICINAL KNOWLEDGE
    ♥♥♡ WOUNDS ; can confidently stop bleeding and mend lacerations. will often request that you keep your injury clean and wait it out first.
    ♥♥♡ INFECTION ; as a side effect of likely her own doing, very dutiful with technique and treatment shortly thereafter.
    ♥♡♡ ACHES & PAINS ; will defer to a dark tunnel and rest. if pain persists, maybe she will offer something.
    ♥♡♡ BROKEN BONES ; has never dealt with a broken bone. likely will ask that you never move. ever again.
    ♥♥♥ TRAVELING HERBS ; learned well from her previous mentor. will pile even too many remedies to tough the wilderness with.
    ♥♥♥ KITTING ; having kittens of her own and helped several others with their litters, she is very well versed with calming techniques and quelling pain.
    ♥♡♡ POISONS ; she knows what they are... but that isn't enough, isn't it?
    ♥♥♡ ILLNESS ; having worked through two yellowcough bouts, she is confident in her remedies. much else... she's operating on trial and error.
    ⸻ cottonsprig is a dutiful and excitable medicine cat. she enjoys company and loves conversation. she'd rather not have too many curious noses snooping around her den... but who is she to quell curiosity?
  • hLNSgig.png
    ⸻❥ cottonsprig is the primary medicine cat of windclan. a former princess to the moors, she harbors many guilts for her actions throughout her short life. she has no consistent partner, unwilling to commit and settle, and she is training celandinepaw in medicine.
 




There's an overwhelming sense of urgency that consumes the copper tabby from the inside out as an invisible adversary still stinks its fangs into Wolfsong's lungs. The all consuming urgency shouts at her to visit her ðir but her paws do not carry her there or an invisible force presses against her, forcing her to stare helplessly at the distance where her ðir languishes beside her father. She knows this force means to save her from a sight that'd send her rearing back to a memory she's all but buried: Bearflight's demise. It's better to appear selfish and semi useful to the camp than be a husk of her usual self, Tigersting decides- she'll be fake.

Friends are sparse for Tigersting despite the apparent ease words cascade from her, flooding the ears of any willing (and unwilling) passerby. The only consistent relationships she maintains are those with her siblings and parents- otherwise, there is no one of significance the tabby allows herself to be vulnerable around. And so Tigersting maintains the fortress around herself with walls reinforced with cheeriness and wit which guards the dread that gnaws at her mind. Does she not care?

She approachs Cottonsprig cautiously with discernible timidness. She's privy to Rivewhisper's thoughts about her even if it was not spoken out loud. She'd left their ðir to battle the plague on his own... but the chocolate tabby is in no position to judge. Wolfsong trusted, trusts, her... and so Tigersting breaks a wall of ice between Cottonsprig and her siblings. Besides, the blue smoke was a beacon of comfort as a kit, as an apprentice even, why must it be any different now with such upsetting circumstances.

The chocolate tabby prowls beside Cottonsprig. She listens (graciously) to the she-cat's chatter with an ear angled towards her and another swiveling; as always her guard is up, she would not want any danger to threaten Cottonsprig... not when she could very well become the final defense against yellowcough if... Tigersting moves their gaze to the hive Cottonsprig indicates to and begins to approach it. As they do, the wind shifts directions and the tabby nearly trips in hole when she smells a stale scent of Wolfsong which clings upon Cottonsprig's pelt- she nearly feels jealous, how dare Cottonsprig smell like her ðir?

"He's strong," Tigersting says with a lack of emotion, meeting Cottonsprig's smile with a frown. But their tail whips nervously as a prickle of unease tiptoes up her spine. She has not been able to speak openly about Wolfsong and feels the invitation to in Cottonsprig's question. She wrenches her amber stare from the medicine cat's and directs it to the hive, which looms just a few tail lengths ahead. "I never stop wondering about him, and father... no matter how many times I am assured he's... recovering." Their is a moment in which she recognizes that maybe the same fears she has is felt by Cottonsprig as well and itches to know what may be on her mind. Tact is not her speciality, however, and she instead drops the inclination to ask outright if Cottonsprig herself was concerned; the fear that Cottonsprig has been lying to her about his improving condition also prevents this. She purses her lips and pauses, falling back onto her haunches as she quietly scrutinizes the hive. Pitifully, she mumbles, "I lied about my ðir showing me how to harvest honey. But, like, I just wanted to come out with you and I'd still like to help."

A bee lazily floats towards her and she hardly resists the urge to bat it away and squash it beneath her paw. "Are they going to be angry at me?" Whether it was her parents, the bees, her siblings, or all of the above she was referring to, even she could not be sure. Their were not many buzzing insects swirling around the hive, but just enough to warn her to be wary unless she wanted to be stung by one.

 
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