camp OUT BEYOND THE SKY | reintro

It feels a bit odd. Sedgepaw hasn't had more than a moment alone in weeks. That's the nature of the medicine den—whether by sickness or injury or job status, someone is always there. But now there's no Vulturemask to spread poultice over his wounds and shove damp moss against his forehead, and there's not even Wolfsong to glance over the scar tissue knitting together the puncture wounds that'd dotted his jugular. There's just Sedge; alone in the midst of WindClan camp.

He hadn't liked staying in the medicine cat's den at first. He was wounded and bloody, but what hurt most was his pride, recoiling at the memories of a kittenhood sequestered within the gorsebrush. Being an apprentice was supposed to be his first taste of freedom—spending the night anywhere but the apprentice pile, in the open air, enjoying the moon and the stars, was like a demotion. But infection had set in quickly, and Sedge wasn't in his right mind to complain for a long while.

Now, he's seeing the world from a whole new perspective. He feels wobbly, stepping through camp. His steps are measured and sure—his frame healthy, if wispier from all the bedrest—yet he feels like a fawn in its first moments. The midday sun beats hot overhead, the sky a sickly blue. Sedge lets the bright shine of it guide his way as he slips quietly forward and toward where the apprentices sleep.

And he finds—well, no one. Its the middle of the day. Most apprentices are either out with their mentors or doing chores around camp, and for the first time in his life, Sedge maybe almost kinda envies them.

For now, he glances over the nests and tries to find his own.

/ TLDR: sedgepaw is here again! he got injured in this thread and was out of commission because his wounds got infected, but now he's right as rain​
 
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── .∘°°∘. ── It seemed unfortunate that Snakepaw should have recovered quite cleanly while Sedgepaw had shaken through fever and inflammation. It is not a kind thought, Wolfsong knows, but while he is capable of kindness, he would never claim to embody it. He had hoped Badgermoon's mentorship of Snakepaw would sand the unnecessarily sharp, brittle edges into something purposeful, something driven, but Snakepaw is soon to become a warrior and Wolfsong sees only a spiteful child.

So yes, he thought it unfair that someone with Sedgepaw's potential would meet such an obstacle so soon. (Of course, Sedgepaw has his flaws, but none which irritate Wolfsong's nose quite like Snakepaw's.) At least Vulturemask had tended well to the apprentice— a living pawprint he has left behind in his journey to the stars.

"Sedgepaw," he greets when he spots the darker feline, idly flicking a patch of used cobweb from his paw. "I imagine you are eager to return to your responsibilities. They must not have seemed so freeing before your stay in the medicine den."
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WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 36 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.
  • ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge. — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know— he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
  • ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel." — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
  • ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you. — ☆☆☆☆☆ KITTING: He doesn't remember what it was like to be born. Coincidentally, that is the extent of his familiarity with kitting. At least he won't leave you without moral support.
  • ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you. — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.
 
Milkpaw was quite literally demoted. Cast aside to be made a joke. An even more disappointment to his family who barely acknowledged him before. Now? They probably pretend he didn't exist, and that was fine with him.

Totally fine.

He didn't talk to many apprentices, but maybe, perhaps this was a chance as he noticed Sedgepaw re entering the apprentice den. WolfSong was soon to follow, and the words were not caught before he supposed finally he would make his way to him.

He didn't know what had happened, left out of the loop for so long, but he wouldn't pester. "There's some open nests over here," he says gently, his eyes baring no emotion, and his tail seeming to almost drag. He didn't expect the other apprentice to say much to him, he supposed.

"I can go get some fresh moss for you though, if you prefer.."

He felt like he should be happy to be out of the nursery. But, he didn't. He just felt tired.
 



She feels rusty, having been confined to camp while the jagged lines across her back mend themselves is like torture. Every day her body yearned to be free, to race across the moors and stretch her limbs that grow weary from a lack of use. As soon as she had been given the clearance from their new (and definitely improved) healer, she had let out a loud whoop and immediately, in her joy, raced across the open moors. She was not as fast as she was before the injury, sitting idle for a time would do that, but she still allowed herself to feel the wind brush through her fur and her feet pound against the earth. When she had returned to camp finally she was in good spirits.

Her pale yellow eyes find Sedgepaw, wobbly and unsteady and she imagines that perhaps that is what she would look like if she had been on bed rest for as long as this young apprentice was. The thought causes a shudder of revulsion to run through her spine like a jolt. If she ever looked so weak... Wolfsong speaks then, stating how Sedgepaw must be excited to get back to his apprentice duties "You'll have to work hard to get those muscles back up kiddo" she admonishes, a smile on her face.

Milkpaw speaks then, saying that he would go to fetch moss for the tom and all Bluepool does is nod silently in response, though a small part of her is glad that the apprentice's punishment had seemed to humble him a little. Mr. too big for his pelt over there had talked back to her and been promptly put into place by her brother-in-law. Gathering moss would probably do him some good.


 
A voice, closely following and now effortlessly familiar, breaks him out of idle and nameless thoughts. Wolfsong's tone is just gruff enough to catch on the soft edge of his ear, but he's soft-spoken and calm. He makes for a far more reassuring presence in the medicine den than Vulturemask had—a thought that sends a flare of guilt through Sedgepaw's chest.

"Weeelllll..." he hedges, running a paw over the short, shrubby grass along the edge of the open den. The smile he gives Wolfsong is crooked. "I know my dedicated and very responsible reputation precedes me, but. Yeah. I'll be happy to get back to normal."

The confession allows a thread of anxiety to nag at him. The time he lost wasting away in the medicine cat den wasn't lost to Sedge—he's missed a whole moon of apprenticeship. The looming weight of his warrior ceremony feels both oppressive and impossibly far away. A hurdle which he has no hope of surpassing, worrying enough to have condensed into something of a fear of his.

Milkpaw provides a distraction.

Sedgepaw knows him, kind of. Milkpaw's reputation is definitely more unsavory than Sedgepaw's own habit of skipping out on chores now and again, but he's a people pleaser at heart. And by that logic, it doesn't exactly do him any good to contribute to Milkpaw's sour mood. Honestly, he doesn't even like it when everyone picks on Snakepaw—and that guy deserves it!

So Sedge tries to shake himself out of the funk he was in and smiles more openly at Milkpaw, aiming to push his shoulder good-naturedly with a paw. "We can go get some together, yeah?" he says, and it's at that point that Bluepool arrives.

He tries to take her ribbing in a good light, and he likes to think that he's pretty successful. The laugh he gives is only a little strained. "That's the plan," Sedge hums in agreement. His gaze catches on the patchy bits of fur still growing in on Bluepool's back, so he asks without really thinking: "How was the battle, by the way? I haven't really heard anything about it." He remembers seeing the wounded cycle through the medicine den, but all the glory-tales of the day seemed to pass him by. Sedgepaw was disappointed enough that he couldn't be there himself—he might as well live vicariously through someone else.​
 

While too young to remember much of Sedgepaw's initial injuries and subsequent complications, Luckykit's still aware of the apprentice, having seen him just enough to classify as familiar-looking, even if he doesn't know him particularly personally. It's a nice enough day out, not too much chatter about in camp, and today his gaze has found its way onto the newly-returned Sedgepaw, who in turn appears fixated upon the apprentice nests piled up about camp. That's one aspect of apprenticeship he's especially not looking forward to - so open in camp, and even if you pressed your nest up next to someone else's, it surely can't live up to sharing a nest as he and his siblings have done for so long. It doesn't take long before a small ripple begins to form throughout camp, cats encouraging Sedgepaw and offering to help with his nest, but Luckykit hangs back, idly listening in to the range of conversation topics. There's not really much for him to add, is there? He can't commiserate over lost apprentice duties, offer to help gather moss, or even understand how much work will have to go into making up for lost time.

Still, though, he wonders - what had it been like to be stuck in Vulturemask's, and then Wolfsong's, den for so long? It can't be any fun - it's kind of stuffy in there, and everybody always seems so relieved to be released. Knowing that the world is still going on outside as normal, that others are still learning and training without you? Just the idea sounds like a nightmare, and so Luckykit can certainly sympathize, even if he can't empathize. Talk turns to that of the SkyClan skirmish, and it brings up a certain curiosity within him regarding Sedgepaw's own wounds. Finally approaching on light paws, he fidgets for a moment, trying to gauge whether the question is appropriate or not given how long the apprentice had been out of commission, but finally he asks, "Did you win?" with a gesture towards his own throat. The answer to the question is important, he thinks, though perhaps it's already answered by Sedgepaw standing in camp, ready to return to his duties. A win doesn't strictly mean the ideal - take the SkyClan skirmish, for example. A win seems more like...overcoming, in some way. Or, maybe it just means not dying or being outright chased off - it's not like he has much experience to back his ideas, anyways, and at the end of the day they're only fleeting ideas and nothing more.
[ PENNED BY HIJINKS ]
 
Luckykit scuttles forward from nearby, looking a bit like a ball of dandelion fluff with wide, unwavering eyes more than the merely curious kitten that he is, and Sedgepaw turns toward him accordingly. He thinks that all children have a bit of an unsettling nature about them. Scorchstreak's kits especially—though he's never actually voiced that observation since he's never been in the mood to be buried alive.

Luckykit's question is simple enough. Did he win?

The whole encounter is—was—a blur. He recalls Snakepaw and moss gathering and boredom, an itching desire for escape, but of the actual attack he can remember very little. Vulturemask suggested it was a product of adrenaline, the vast expanse of his mind narrowed to a single pinprick of survival when faced with imminent death. Or maybe it was the bloodloss. Regardless, and perhaps most strangely, what he remembers most was the smell. Pungent and thick, like an unbathed cat left to bake under the sun—wild and suffocating and deadly.

His fur prickles just from the memory. "I..." he starts, then stops. Did he win?

Snakepaw walked away with a scratch. The fox escaped with enough wounds to stay away, and they hadn't had any fox trouble since then. Sedgepaw spent a moon sick and nearly dying, but...he lived. He's living. And the thought of his exacerbated weakness and delayed warrior ceremony sting worse than his scars, at this point. That's good enough, isn't it?

"I'd say so," Sedgepaw answers, a smile worming its way back onto his face, brittle but earnest. Sure, the situation sucked, but it'd work out for him. Things always do.

Maybe Sootstar would even give him an awesome warrior name for all his troubles.​
 
// retro to warrior ceremony

Laying his sights upon Sedgepaw again stirred a sludge of contorted and ill feelings within the dark-furred apprentice. He hadn't spoken to the other tom since his departure from the medicine den, but even then, their interactions had been rather sparse. It wasn't a great feeling knowing that Sedgepaw, of all cats, had quite possibly been the only reason he was still breathing. It had been him to first jump into action and deter the snarling vulpine before it ripped his arm off and tore into him. And what had Snakepaw done? He had run away like a coward.

Snakepaw could have slunk away, under the radar without an obligation to interact with his clanmates, but he instead chooses to interject himself into the conversation if only for a brief time. "That beast was sent running. If it's smart, it won't show its ugly mug near our borders again." It would only be a matter of time before more foxes boldly overstepped the scent markers and hunted on WindClan land, but for now, at least that creature in particular had been driven away.

He gives a tilt of his head, eyeing Sedgepaw and his healed wounds. "So you're all better, then?" Not without complication, obviously, but ready to move on with his training nonetheless. "I'm sure it was getting tiresome staying cooped up with him." He snorts with a glance in the golden-furred feline's direction, though strangely, his tone lacks the venom it typically holds. He was certainly glad that he had been discharged from the medicine cat den before Wolfsong had taken the reigns after Vulturemask. Both cats were insufferable, but Wolfsong had given him elder duty before, which edged him out slightly further than the late healer.