My sister, Bonejaw, is our medicine cat.


His muzzle wrinkles with a strange face, like an almost-sneeze, the finest of loose wisp tickle his senses. This one’s sense of smell was typically sharp as a shell’s edge, hearing clear as sky that dispelled nearby drifting clouds. But all this noise was dizzying. They swam in his head like a mishmashed cacophony of sound. Mishearing, strange interpretation. Song upon song rang in his ears. It isn’t right. Complication.

They’ve also given us a medicine cat, Honeytwist.

By now, Dawnglare’s eyes are blinking open. Previously shut in an effort to ground himself, they flutter open with the grace of a fragile dream. Blasphemous thought, mind-rotting, ear-fluffing– nonsense. Nonsense. But was it? Is it? Perhaps it isn’t so, clear blue luminaries dance in their confusion.

His jaw sets tight as he skims through the crowd, searches for these so called special ones found. Others like him, he very much doubted it so. How much value does doubt hold? Much, very, er– in his case…

He’s staring, staring at a familiar face in the crowd as it dispels. Small, chestnut fur, flesh slashed across a gnarled face. Little bug, showing his face again. Dawnglare pads towards them.

Eyes narrow, wry as he draws near. Suspicions are clear, recognition rings true. Honey-bug, Honey-bear. Them? Dawnglare stares. "You?” he says, and his tone is accusing, this one would point if he could. Other’s linger, sweet-furred honey mentioned by smoke-hearted Soot. Formerly Pine, he can barely recall. Unimportant.

His frown only deepens as he realizes just the extent. Three, four, five– Oh, irritating. His body twitches.

"You,” he repeats, and this time it’s more firm. Dreamlike gaze sweeps the clearing, locks eyes and minds with all those declared medicine cat. Only now does he understand what Blaise sought to distinguish. These others were… medicine cats. He and he alone remained prophet. A difficult distinction for the general public. No, he would not shame them… "All of you… gather,” he huffs.

[ @BEESONG @honeytwist @BONEJAW @cinderfrost ]
She wished time would freeze so that she could stay as long as possible with her nephew. No, she didn't deserve to call him that any longer. However, the moon waited for no mortal as it traversed the stars. The blue molly would have stayed by his side as long as the full moon allowed but a separate gathering caught her attention.

Whispers of medicine cats reached her ears. Though her heart yearned to stay, she knew she needed to meet the other appointed medicine cats. Her lack of medicinal knowledge was concerning, to say the least. StarClan only dubbed her "Cinderfrost" and guided her towards a wrong-interpreted destiny. There had been no sudden influx of knowledge. At the end of the day, she still only knew to not ingest certain berries and to lick her own wounds.

Something told her that simply licking someone's wounds wouldn't cure her future patients.

With this in mind, she parted ways with tears in her eyes, and tentatively stalked over to the gathered cats. Upon seeing Bone, she paused - their last encounter nearly ended with death. She continued her approach only once she was sure her eyes were no longer wet and that the tracks of her tears had been erased.

Although fragile in appearance, she stepped forward with her head held high. The marsh cats had helped her descent into madness but she hid the pain they inflicted well. She refused, absolutely refused, to give them the satisfaction of seeing her broken and bruised.

Her lips kept tightly sealed as she sat down. If this split gathering turned out to be pointless, she would leave in a heartbeat. Already she harbored frustrations from being forced to attend the gathering, from being pulled away from her nephew all in the name of her "star-blessed duty". But she had promised she would try to become the medicine cat Hare Whiskers and Ash spoke of. This would, hopefully, be a step in the correct direction. ​

Honey is, quite frankly, not surprised there are other medicine cats. She could not have been the only one ripped from her home and her suspicions rang true as Riverclan called out their medicine cat, ‘Beesong’. Honeybee. She had vaguely seen him around Skyclan when she had been Fritter, still. Her head twists and turns with possibilities and when others were announced she’d look for each in the crowd and give a curt nod.

She’s tired out now, at the end of the gathering. She’s ready to go home. She wants nothing more than to rest in to Pollenfurs side, and she has caught Tuggers eyes. Destroyed, she has destroyed him- no. It was the stars that destroyed them. It was not her fault, she reassures herself. Not her fault, her kits would be okay with her.

Theres a voice that tugs her out of her thoughts and she narrows her eyes in frustration. A commandeering presence of a chocolatey furred cat and a cat of ash have begun to gather and with rolling eyes she makes her way over at the command. "Speak. Sootstar will not be happy with me being gone so long."

Beesong, much like Honeytwist, could not say that he is surprised to hear that there are other medicine cats. It wouldn't make sense from a logical standpoint to only have one medicine cat in RiverClan. So, he'd heeded the announcement with little more than a twitch of his ear and a courteous smile passed to the others; Dawnglare, Cinderfrost, Honeytwist, and Bonejaw. Some he recognized well from his time spent in SkyClan, and others he could only vaguely recall from the throes of war.

When Valentine- no, Dawnglare- approaches them with a single word that sounds almost accusatory, Beesong simply breathes a puff of laughter. "Me," they answer with an affirming nod. "Good to see you again, bell-whisperer." The nickname falls from their tongue with ease, a smile quirking their lips. Funny it is how what started as a joke turned into a reality; communication with divine spirits. Dawnglare, too, had been called forth by StarClan. Everyone here has. Their eyes rake over each cat, nose twitching. So many scents in one place. Pine, oak, swampy water, cool breeze... It's as if their shared history together has been erased.

Do they smell of the river now? Does the scent of fish cloak their fur?

Dawnglare demands that they gather. Beesong blinks and lowers onto his haunches. There is no qualms from the cinnamon-furred healer. Cicadastar would simply have to understand that this is an important meeting between the medicine cats, between StarClan's chosen. Still, there is impatience within a twitching tail and shuffling paws, but one that is born of an eagerness to learn rather than a need to leave.
  • Love
Reactions: Floppie