backwritten STRENGTH OF HEART | cotton

[CELANDINEPAW]

"Cottonpaw! Cottonpaw!" Celandine practically stumbled over to the rainstorm-toned molly, her own frayed pelt amongst the haybales like notes of marginalia, frazzled and interspersed with strands of wheat and grain. The spotted tabby had been watching Cottonpaw as she came to visit a certain cat. Juncoclaw was her name, Celandine believed. And now, just as this Cottonpaw turned her heels to return home, Celandine seized her chance like she would catch upon the supple neck of a rat. The Windclan cat often came to the Horseplace, and the barnchat's wheat-hued gaze often swam alongside her kin treading along the moors, as though their gaits tied together in legato motion. They glided and danced and played amongst the verdancy, and all Celandine could do was sit upon the sill and stare. She liked to imagine herself upon their steed, light as a feather dropped from the highest heaven, floating down to graze at the ground. "Can you tell me about what you do in Windclan, pleeeeease? It's gotta be cool, right? Who knows, maybe I could help, too!" Owlish eyes blinked at she who had come from beyond the fence, as though Cottonpaw were the ligature of the very fields themselves, tuned to the rhythm of harmonic nature. This is my only chance! What if Cottonpaw doesn't come back? Ugh, I never know how these Windclan cats work!

𝘗𝘙𝘌𝘔𝘖𝘕𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚 𝘚𝘔𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘐𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘋𝘈𝘙𝘒 .° ✿ °. 𝘐 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘚𝘌𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘚𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘠 𝘐𝘚 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖 𝘈𝘙𝘊

• OOC:
  
• ( NOTE: Reference is a placeholder until a drawn reference can be supplied. Credit HERE )​
  
• 

  —— CELANDINEPAW / She/They/He / 11 Moons
  —— Moor Runner Apprentice of Windclan / Mentored by Dimmingsun
  —— A shorthaired golden spotted tabby with yellowish-green eyes. Somewhat pudgy, though lean and able to hold her ground in the wild.
  —— Extroverted and unafraid to speak their mind, she is a friendly and affable face in Windclan. Though ditzy and somewhat cowardly, she tries her best to help her clan.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

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[cottonsprig]

She likes visiting the barn cats. Junco, specifically, but most if not all of them are kindly loners that have no issue entertaining her visits. Many of them seem to be expats of the Clans, too knowledgeable to leave properly but too outcasted to stick around. She knows the feeling, in a petulant childish way. Even now, as an accepted member of WindClan through and through, she feels as if she's not entirely there. It'll shape up one day, she's sure.

Her name being called frazzles her nerves slightly, however the she-cat doesn't grow angry at the pitched voice. Curious, most certainly, as she turns to see the golden-yellow she-cat named... Celandine. Like the flower. She wears a smile casually, if not a little confused, until the young barncat begs for information. There is a slight ego boost to being pleaded to, admittedly. Cottonpaw cannot help it, truly, and she hopes in that entertaining this conversation, she doesn't expose her own flaws.

"Yeah, sure," she chirps as she seats herself again. Her gaze flicks up and around the barn first, wondering if Junco will join them once more, before focusing on the other. "Well - I'm a medicine cat. At least, I'm the apprentice of one. My mentor's name is Wolfsong. We are a sort of... special Clan cat, where our ancestors can commune through us. It's jarring at first -" she predicts the obvious next question, 'What's that like!?' and answers it swiftly, as if she never struggled in her connection to StarClan. "- but you get used to it. Um..." The final offer (if it could be called that) is met with uncertainty, ears twitching back.

"It's a little more than just helping, Celandine. It's... a lot of sacrifice, and getting your paws dirty. My mentor, he -" Hummingbird's throat was torn open, and Cottonpaw struggles with trying to relay that in a kind and sensible manner. And so, she doesn't. "He killed someone to protect his own. It's not a role meant only for mending."​

 

[CELANDINEPAW]

"Wow! So you, like, train to be a better Clan cat than everyone else? Woah! How do you become this 'medicine cat'? Bet you have to be super special from birth! And you can talk to your dead family? Can you talk to your living ones, too? Well, I bet they're all in Windclan, so you could just talk to them normally." The young adolescent mewed onwards, rapid-fire verses like the gabble of a kindled fire, sparks and embers of half-palpable thought coming through before it faded from her tongue. The mouser's words stood often glib but not truly insincere, simply much too fast-paced for her own mind to capture and weave them, an ingraceful glame that bumbled as it burned. It still escaped her mind how Cottonsprig and her folk could effectively talk to the dead - but how could that be? Once a cat was dead, they could not lift their mouth nor their eyes. They, perhaps, sunk farther and deeper into the earth than claws could dig for. The part about killing someone to protect their own seemed to flutter right into one ear and out of the other, as if Windclan were nothing but a game to her, rhapsodies of death and murder and gore a mere fusillade of words. The topics seemed as ubiquitous as any other fairytale trope. Her conception of the clans had still been built upon the stories that her mother relayed for her. "But, if your main thing is medicine, then you don't have to fight? Fighting's scary. I saw what it did to the cats who came to the barn a while ago. Lots of blood and wounds, and some were about to die. I really enjoyed helping them, though! It fills me with, uh, what's the word... Happiness? Enjoyment? I dunno, some complicated sorta feeling." The girl tilted her head to the side, curiosity like a corposant upon which it riffled through her eyes, an electric and infectious sensation that beguiled all who still had not shorn off their naivete. The zest for life that she held so close to her beating hummingbird heart was her greatest asset and her most fatal flaw, one that would comfort her in woolen embrace but would sooner leave her in its arms if it were caught alight.

𝘗𝘙𝘌𝘔𝘖𝘕𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚 𝘚𝘔𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘐𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘋𝘈𝘙𝘒 .° ✿ °. 𝘐 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘚𝘌𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘚𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘠 𝘐𝘚 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖 𝘈𝘙𝘊

• OOC:
  
• ( NOTE: Reference is a placeholder until a drawn reference can be supplied. Credit HERE )​
  
• 

  —— CELANDINEPAW / She/They/He / 12 Moons
  —— Medicine Cat Apprentice of Windclan / Mentored by Wolfsong
  —— A shorthaired golden spotted tabby with yellowish-green eyes. Somewhat pudgy, though lean and able to hold her ground in the wild.
  —— Extroverted and unafraid to speak their mind, she is a friendly and affable face in Windclan. Though ditzy and somewhat cowardly, she tries her best to help her clan.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

​