The sky today is full of clouds, gray, foreboding. They threaten rain, a torrential downpour that could soak them at a moments notice. She had seen it before, though she herself had never gotten stuck in a storm before, she had given a sympathetic grooming to a den mate who had. Despite the gloomy weather, cats still needed to go about their business. The Clan needed prey and, in the case of Starlingpaw and her newfound mentor, they aslo needed herbs. She fluffs up her fur as best as she can against the biting cold and follows Bonejaw back to the camp on a leg that is still uncertain, still healing from the injury that had made her move into the medicine cats den in the first place, though back then she had not known it was permanent. In her mouth, she holds a small bundle of cobwebs, for dressing wounds, her aunt had said. It was important to always have some around, warriors were always getting injured. Her mind flashes to Granitepaw and his insistant need to always pick a fight. She's almost certain she would be using a lot of these on they gray furred tom. If only he wasnt always so hot headed..
Before she knows it they are back to the camp, back in their den. Her injured leg aches but she can feel it getting stronger every day. She will be able to use it fully again before leaf-bare hits. Shes certain of it. When they make it back to their den in the rocks she nearly falls over from exertion. The small she cat sticks her bad leg out to the side, placing the cobwebs in front of her as she turns to give the leg a couple of good licks before turning her attention to the wall littered with holes, covered in ferns. The place herbs are kept.
A while ago, Bonejaw had taken all her herbs, shredded them, denounced Star Clan, denounced her title. Starlingpaw did not know what had possesed her to do such a thing, not when even she could tell how fragile their herb stocks were, how desperately they needed them. She thinks of Pitchstar and his mood swings, his anger. She still cannot fault any of her family for it though, not even if she tried to. They had lost so much. She thinks of her mother, her sudden death and wishes she hadn't. Desperate to distract herself she forces herself to stand, to make her way to the herb storage with her wad of cobwebs. "Wh-where-where-w-whe wheereee do t-the-theese g-g-go" She asks. Usually, around her aunt, her stutter is not as bad but thoughts of her mother, specifically thoughts of how she had died, always bring it back in force.