SPRIG OF HOLLY ◈ medicine cat den trespasser

[Bearflight]

Nursery was a foreign concept to him, he had been born and raised in the medicine cat den of WindClan surrounded by the scent of herbs and his family and the place ThunderClan had put them did not have the same scent of home and comfort so he wandered to find his own. Bearkit's big paws plodded along, his gait bouncing and confident yet uncooradinated as most kittens were but he did not stop his exploration for a better place to nap. The rosette kitten paused before the warrior's den, nose wrinkling as he shook his head; too many cats and they were much too big, they would squish him for sure. His next stop the apprentice den, somewhat better but still too noisy-he could hear the sounds of roughhousing within and he continued onward with a dutiful sigh.
Eventually, finally, he came upon the medicine cat den - easily differentiated due to the scent of the herbs and the faint aroma of fresh moss, his lopsided ear flicked upward with his other and he tapped his paws in a little dance of delight before wandering straight inside. It was a little more out in the open than his ðir's den, didn't have the same scent of fresh earth and grass but was a little more forest-like with a gentle pine aroma. Not the same but good enough for him.
Bearkit wasted no time in finding an empty nest within and curling himself into a ball to continue the nap that those dreadful rogues had all but ruined.
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[Ooc]
Not a PAFP but I figured have a ping @BERRYHEART for your tiny trespasser.
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[FALLOWBITE]

( ⁀➷ )　 Another child with no knowledge of the nursery - not yet, that is. Fallow peers over the top of her temporary nest, eyes latching onto a new face, unaccompanied by the Clan's healer. A fire-pelted, snow-dappled thing, claiming a nest like he owns the place. Is he sick? Injured? He doesn't look it. And why would anyone want to sleep here, in this hollow that smells of cloying herbs and sickly rot? Fallow doesn't get it.

"Hey!" she squeaks, indignant. She silently laments the fact that she can't move, as she'd love to shove the little cat to make her point. "That's not your nest." She glares daggers at him over the moss of her nest. This place is too crowded already, there's no room for another kitten.

WEARING CROWNS ⁀➷ OF TWIGS AND LEAVES 【 10.9.23 】

• //
  ​

• "SPEECH"

• ˏˋ　°　•　*⁀➷ FALLOW.　THUNDERCLAN KIT.　SHE / HER & IT / ITS.
  2 MOONS & AGES ON THE 1ST.　PENNED BY SATURNID.
  
  

  

  ➳ A SCRAGGLY, POINTED BROWN MOLLY WITH PATCHY WHITE SPOTTING.

  
  NPC xx NPC. CURRENTLY IN THE MED DEN, RECOVERING FROM AN OWL ATTACK.
  ​

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[RACCOONSTRIPE]

◇────────────【☆】★【☆】────────────◇​

XXXXXRaccoonstripe knows Berryheart likely wouldn’t thank him for it, but he’s become overly protective of his remaining siblings’ well-being. Graystorm had been brutally hunted like prey, Berryheart had fallen sick and nearly died to yellowcough, and Hollow Tree had vanished, abandoning her family in crisis in the dead of night. The tabby knows his brother is deeply grieving his lost apprentice, and when he sees a little scrap of fur toddling into his sanctuary, he lifts his lip just slightly.

“Hey, you don’t belong in there unless you’re hurt or sick,” he says in an authoritative voice. Upon closer inspection, the kit is almost the spitting image of WindClan’s deputy, Sunstride—but the features on this kit are softer, endearing. Raccoonstripe has to wonder if this is one of the medicine cat’s children, if that’s why he isn’t seeking the safety of herb-scent in an unfamiliar place. The kit makes himself at home, tucking himself into one of the empty sickbeds and quickly nodding off to sleep.

The child is harmless, he knows… but still, Berryheart doesn’t like to be disturbed, so Raccoonstripe tries to sweep Bearkit awake with his tail. “Out you go,” he says in a brisk voice. He turns to the owl-scarred kit, still recovering from their assault, and wrinkles his nose just slightly. The den is full of outsider kits...

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got ninja'd, but edited quickly to reflect Fallowkit's presence!
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[BERRYHEART]

Resenting his inattentiveness until it was too late, Berryhear spared a glance to the scrap of plush moss that a kitten had curled himself upon. Shallow and subtle puzzlement twisted his expression as he turned to the commotion at the threshold, and for a few moments he could not speak. Since Freckles' death, he had been unable to react as quickly as he had before- had been unable to unlearn the tiny reliances he had upon his apprentice. The illness razed, and there was no one to help him. No one he wanted to help him, for fear the same thing would happen.

Stripes and the Owl-child already gave their judgement, their interjection. With relatively empty but subtly thankful eyes, Berryheart looked toward the both of them- though the letters capability for fully understanding gratitude was likely precarious. Instead of harping on at the poor child, he would speak only what was necessary.

It was a fondness for efficiency and that he was too tired to say anything else. Exhaustion and sadness were a deadening mix, and Berryheart felt so much like a cadaver he considered he might scare the kitten. "I'm sorry." His voice was earnest and soft- he had kept it that way with what felt like mountainous effort.​

PENNED BY PIN ☾​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── //lil cw for some imagined violence oop

It is unreasonable, Wolfsong knows, to imagine his jaws closing over Raccoonstripe's tail until his teeth touch and he feels the bones on his tongue like a bird's wing. Unreasonable, and yet the desire is within his chest, breathing through his lungs with a life of its own. My son, mine, do not soil his fur with your stink, it thunders, and he fights to swallow the rage of a hundred ills, among which Raccoonstripe is terribly small— and yet nearly enough to propel Wolfsong over a chasm. Nearly. He has not lost control of himself yet.

He bends to rasp a tongue over Bearkit's head, though not before eyeing Raccoonstripe's tail pointedly. "Come, my heartling," he murmurs. "Let us rest somewhere else— ThunderClan may need these nests for those who are sick or injured, and I know my Bearkit is strong and healthy."​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 38 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ 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: Thanks to Starlingheart, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ 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.

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[rivewhisper]

"BABY, DON'T YOU KNOW I SUFFER?"​

Oh, Wolfsong could keep his mouth sealed, but Rivekit wasn't necessarily known for quiet. Despite all of that, having been searching for her brother, and finding her ðir on his heels instead, Rivekit moved to the medicine den, poking her nose in around the entrance. She stared at Raccoonstripe, ears pushing forward and owl-eyes split wide, as if pinpointing a target. Yet, the presence of her ðir is a solid reminder. She is not to do anything stupid. She is not to cause a commotion.

And for Star's sake, it's a medicine den- there is no reason to be loud.

So instead, she does the mature thing. A mess of bared kitten-teeth and her tongue stuck out at Raccoonstripe from around Wolfsong. Oh yes, very mature. Rivekit turned, eyeing her brother until he was retrieved before she slipped back away from the stinky tree-smelling den. "C'mon, Bearkit! Let's find a sun-patch." Rivekit had a strange knowledge of her siblings favorites. She knew very well that Bearkit liked to nap, and hopefully, a warm stone somewhere would be akin to camp. Rivekit didn't want to think about camp, though, so she excused herself with movement back into the camp to distract herself. ​

✦ ★ ✦​