private say that with your chest // featherpaw

[cottonsprig]

Cottonfang steps around the few poor souls still trapped in the medicine den - many, like Downypaw, have been released with each of their own caveats. But some, like Featherpaw, are forced to rest for longer, purely due to the gravity of their injury. The grey she-cat is grateful that she's only been nicked and scraped throughout the whole debacle (lest they think of her heart, which bleeds with uncertain grief and fearful despair.) But as her eyes rest on reddish brown fur, she finds that she cares less for the state of her pelt, and more for the health of those around her.

"Hey, Featherpaw," she greets the young apprentice casually, her cheery tones subdued only slightly. "Wolfsong - he'll be back soon, but I figured it'd be okay if I went ahead to change your dressings, yeah?" Such is the job of a medicine cat apprentice, is it not? She's learning to be just like the youth's parent. A moss ball, dripping with water, is nudged towards him first, "Plus, I'm sure you're thirsty." For once, she thinks too-little of the scrutiny she could be afforded. Cottonfang's grown too used to being accepted once again that she doesn't worry over being shunned - though perhaps she should.​

 

[FEATHERSPINE]

When her name was called, Featherpaw's face immediately collapsed into a dark scowl. Cottonpaw, Cottonfang, had him uneasy. A late addition to the rebellion, but why? Had she a less fearful heart, Featherpaw might be more charitable- for Sootstar was her mother, and Cottonfang had followed her parent just as Featherpaw had followed her own. Still- letting her creep up behind him, do stars-knew-what to the wound spanning his spine... did she even know what she was doing? Wolfsong certainly hadn't deemed her training done. Why should he trust her not to hurt him, inadvertently or otherwise?

"I'm not thirsty," Featherpaw cut in, his voice instantly frosty. "D-Does Wolfsong know you're changing my dressings? Shouldn't you wait till he's b-b-buh... b-back?" A white paw pushed away the moss- she was unable to stop the bristling of her mane and hackles. Her white-tipped tail curled protectively around her body, as if she could whip Cottonfang in the face if she got too close. ​

✦ penned by pin​