private Tell me all that brings you grace || celandine

[milkthorn.]

The bittersweet return of Thriftfeather and Bluefrost left him in a discomfit position- unsure of the stance he took would make eyes fall upon him with a a look of disapproval, or even worse. The outcome would be unknown from his clanmates, especially in normal circumstances he was found to be quite complaisant. He would do what was asked without retaliation, or comments of disapproval, much unlike his younger version of himself.

He felt quite ignoble, but he also seen the purpose of his actions and felt that they were indeed valid. He had an acumen, and he saw no reason why Bluefrost, if not Thriftfeather, would hold ulterior motives. But, he did understand at the very least why Thriftfeather would incur a expedient reaction from his clanmates. His paws had been lead astray for a long time coming, and Duskclan was nothing but noxious. Alas, he had been on the wrong side, and the rogues to his clanmates, Thriftfeather had been sordid.

He however trusted Thriftfeather, however, he did not trust that the exiled rogues of Duskclan would not surface to steal back their own- and he could not see them being anything but vehement. He feared for his friends safety- but he also feared for his clan. He was not lying when he called himself loyal. But to see himself as formidable was what he felt far from the truth. Loyal, fierce, protective, helpful, but useful? He wasn't quite sure about that, his own insecurities keeping him feeling timorous especially with his recent stance.

Blue gaze would fall upon Celandinepaw; gentle, before his stocky form would find himself moving towards her. With Wolfsong having fallen sick to the yellow cough that creeps upon them, he knew she alone could not prepare without sanctuary- or perhaps it was his own worries of Duskclan making their presence again that made him weary to allow the medicine cat to gather alone. They could not risk that loss. "Celandinepaw," he greeted with a dip of his head, "Perhaps it would be worthwhile for me to join you while gathering herbs? If- you need the assistance."

@CELANDINEPAW
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[CELANDINEPAW]

The herbs beneath Celandinepaw's worn feet were once nothing but fragile leaves to her, like frangible eggshells that teetered upon her uneven palms, every movement another reminder of the ephemeral nature of the lives she was responsible for. Moons ago, she would have trampled upon the foliage would recognizing it for what it was - sanctity of sanctuary, saving grace upon what no sacrecy could save. If she had not been burdened by this knowledge, if she had not been selected as the medicine cat's apprentice, would she still be free? If it was truly fate that had deigned her to such a role, then she figured that she could never have been liberated - but that was not how she liked to think. Tired eyes turned towards Milkthorn whom had summoned for her, hues of her gaze like sprigs of newleaf ardor turning inside of themselves, roiling inwards to expose the pulp of the strife and stress that she felt within her position. The rosetted tomcat could surely flitter through her abraded countenance - she had never been the best actress, anyhow. Celandinepaw wore her heart upon her face, and her emotions to bleed out as wine-dark shadow beyond the pale of her smile. "Ah! That would be much appreciated, I think. Thank you so much." A purr rattled from the young molly's throat, as though it were a chord strummed and innervated, a twinge of the former brilliance that once dwelled so fervently within her cavity. She was glad for the kinship of her clan, at least, for they were determined never to allow any of their kind to fall behind. It never sat well with her to juxtapose the barn to the wilds, but it was an advantage that granted her hope nevertheless.

"So, how are you faring with everything going on? You're not sick right now, I hope. Otherwise, I'd have to take my herbs elsewhere." She jokingly mewed, though it was her duty to make sure that every cat within Windclan was in as best of shape as possible. She was not as loquacious as she had been before, as though the mere act of conversation were nothing but a swampland of a chore to undergo, but perhaps the appearance of normalcy would let her wander closer to the actual sense of it.

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.

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[milkthorn.]

bulky head would dip at the thanks that spilled from the apprentices jaws. "Of course. I like to keep my paws busy," he responded, a smile tugging at the corners of his maw as he craned his head to peer at the herbs before her simply observing- before back up to the golden hued apprentice.

she jokes of worry of him being sick, but it has deeper intentions as blue eyes flicker to her wary green gaze. though, always bright, they held a tiredness in them. Milkthorn knew little of medicine cats, and their load on their plate - but he knew they did a lot and deserved the respect as not just any other cat, but a starclan given opportunity. celandinepaw can save, rather than harm- she can help more in what others could not.

"healthy as a-" his voice fell suddenly, brows knitting as he tried to think of a comparison. he would brush it away with a shrug, "I assure you, I am fortunately not sick. this yellowcough- it's... worrisome, but I believe you and Wolfsong will have it maintained in no time." He spoke encouragingly, the smile returning to the rosetted toms features. "besides that- I am fine. Are.. you well? you look like you could sleep for a moon, or more and still not be rested." Milkthorn commented, not rudely. a teasing undertone in his voice towards the apprentice, though laced with worry.

he was good at that at the very least, worrying of his clanmates own state of mind. ensuring their peace, or hoping they could find some in their time of stress.

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