private RIPOSTE ╱ RAVENSONG

[SALTSTING]

If there has ever been an action that incensed Saltsting's curiosity, it was to be stood before what he does not know and told do not look. A quiet conversation is as alluring to him as a warrior's memories, furtive glances as compelling as an outright fact. He does not like how easily he is ensnared by what he is told not to have, but some part of him will admit that this is the reason for how he looks at Ravensong now. Each time he sees the medicine cat he thinks of the flowers between his paws. Posion Smokethroat had called them. Immediately, he had needed to know more. It was not the threat of them that has him so desperately curious. He has no use for it, of course, and to attempt to find one would be nothing more than a detriment to the one who was truly trained in this.

But that it had existed here, within this territory, deadly as it was, without his knowledge– the warrior will never admit to fear, yet there is certainly something within him at the realization. He had always intended to be impervious. Though he knows such a goal is unreasonable, perhaps if he tries a little bit harder, knows just a little bit more. Then it will become truth. He will protect himself; more importantly: those around him. Even as he thinks it he knows it is wrong of him. As much as he may care for them...it is the prerogative of each living being to maintain their own safety. (His mother would lick between his ears and hide a smile into his fur that he could still feel. Of course, my dear. But there's nothing wrong with helping them.)

"How did Beesong teach you of these herbs?" So far into this trek, he has been relatively quiet. A few remarks here and there, and an apt listener to all that Ravensong might say. It is the first he has chosen to pry as they tread through RiverClan's drying territory. Saltsitng does not look directly at the healer, but at him nonetheless from the corner of an eye.

 "𝘐 𝘋𝘖𝘕'𝘛 𝘊𝘈𝘙𝘌," 𝘐 𝘚𝘈𝘠, 𝘊𝘈𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘎𝘓𝘠, 𝘈𝘚 𝘐 𝘊𝘈𝘙𝘌 𝘋𝘌𝘌𝘗𝘓𝘠  ╱╱ 8.08.2023 ˊˎ＜

• ooc: —
• ✦　　. 　 ˚　.  SALTSTING. FORMERLY UNDECIDED. HE - HIM OR THEY - THEM. YOUNG WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN. SEXUALITY ﹖ PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  ——
  
  
  ——  a black smoke with low white and dark brown eyes. his purebred father lent him much of his structure, with the oriental shorthair's characteristic angular features and large ears alongside a tall, lean frame, yet it is his mother's genes that rounded him out, adding strength to his shoulders and toughness to his paws. a kittypet and a colony cat, and saltsting is something entirely new.
  

  ✦ IMPORTANT NOTE. saltsting is touch averse and very vocal about it. icly, riverclanners should be aware of this. repeatedly touching him without the necessary comfort level will leave him with a poor opinion of any character.

• "speech"

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[RAVENSONG]

With the fleetingness of medicine cats, Ravensong finds his job in the Clan in a position constantly threatened by extinction. He had seen WindClan cycle through them like fleas and the mentor he thought he would have for many more moons suddenly appeared washed up in the gorge. Ravensong still thought of him—it was hard not to when he was practicing the very thing being passed down without some fleeting thought of Beesong—but it hurt less and less every day. That stretch of emptiness was the most terrifying part, he assumed. While he was grieving he could at least know what he was feeling. Now he was left with a shell ripe for emotion, positive or negative, to fill it.

Perhaps that was why he was so inclined to cater to the curiosities of his Clanmates. The meadow saffron's use had to be kept a secret, though he became increasingly aware that secrecy meant the heart grew fonder as it did with Saltsting. A good RiverClan cat had secrets. He licked his lips uncomfortably, testing the new theory he had come up with.

He blinked suddenly at the question, glancing over his shoulder at his similarly darker-furred companion. "I suppose... in the manner of a mentor." His lips curled at the ends of his toothy smile. "But a teacher can only as good as his pupil." He added with a hint of pride in his intelligence.

☾₊ ⊹ темная ночь — dark is the night

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  RAVENSONG of RIVERCLAN
  — LH BLACK POLYDACTYL MALE (CARRYING CINNAMON, DILUTE) a tall, slender creature with pitch-black feathery fur, large ears, and a sharply angled skull held up in an aloof manner. smells of dried herb, speaks with a low and rumbly accent and walks with an elegant slinking gait.
  
  — born in twolegplace and orphaned at a young age, he joined riverclan at its inception and began training as a drypaw warrior known for a bitter temperment until beesong made him his medicine cat apprentice. after his mentor's untimely death, he had been named ravensong at the moonstone, young heart revitalized with anger and guilt. he is a somber and thorough medicine cat that guards every word spoken in the confines of his den.
  
  — secretly loves "the stars but not so much what inhabits them"
  — openly suffers from chronic migraines
  — single, but "it's complicated"

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