private THE BACKYARD'S FULL OF BONES — medicine cat gathering

[BEESONG]

beesong hesitates to leave the sanctuary of camp tonight. after claws unsheathed and blood spilled underneath the past half-moon, he thinks anyone with a smidge of sensibility would. but the stars do not care for his opinion on the matter; there is an obligation for beesong to be present at fourtrees tonight, and he has never been one to shun his duties for his own personal misgivings. his affiliation with riverclan is proof of such.

so, underneath the furling branches of the four great oaks, they do find themselves. their breath fogs with each exhale in the chill of the night air, a constant reminder in the back of their skull that leafbare is not slowing in its approach. leaves crunch underfoot, signalling the approach of the other healers before the dim light of the moon bathes them in a pale glow. one, unfamiliar, crooked-jawed and ember-flecked. but the scent of the oak forest is strong, and beesong remembers too late emberstar's announcement the past gathering. cinderfrost had been exiled for her crimes, as demanded by shadowclan's new leader, and this young tom had been appointed by the stars to follow in her pawsteps.

beesong can only hope that he does not follow too closely, lest his own paws become bloodied.

he cannot say that he's sympathetic towards cinderfrost; perhaps it's because they've never shared a kinship outside of their shared career. but, seeing dandelionpaw without honeytwist, stings his heart. beesong thinks honeytwist was foolish for attacking bonejaw, even though he shared her own feelings towards the shadowclan healer revoking her own title. yet, fond memories of her from their time together in the pine colony sweetens the bitter taste in his mouth.

"hello again," beesong finally breathes, once they've all gathered. unconsciously, they drift closer to dawnglare than the rest. "let's try to avoid attempted murder this time around, if possible." their voice is forcibly lighthearted, but the clench of their jaw suggests that they feel anything but mirthful.

@DAWNGLARE @Dandelionwish @BONEJAW @BERRYHEART​

 

[Dandelionwish]

If he was being real honest with himself then he'd admit he didn't even want to come. He had no attachment to the other medicine cats outside his new and developing friendship with Bonejaw, he had no interest in trying to be friendly to any of them because the lines were so clearly drawn in the sand that he'd be stupid to expect any help or companionship from RiverClan or SkyClan.

Dandelionwish walked the worn path alone, head held high and eyes set in a cautious but nonaggressive narrow. His first meeting he had clung to Honeytwist's side and offered them all the most cheerful of greetings, this time he holds himself more coldly though the smile on his maw is still present and he twirls his wheat stem in a thoughtful stim. His only hello is a curt nod and he glances around the cats present, honing in on the unfamiliar face. He had tuned out most of the gathering, had been busy fighting down his own anxiety at the time so he hardly noticed when Emberstar announced their new healer and he certainly didn't bother trying to find out whoever this 'Berryheart' was at the time. Didn't even know if he was there, but he was now and he seemed just as lost as Dandelionwish felt as well. Maybe there was a chance to befriend the ThunderClan healer where he had no interest to before. Their previous one had been absolutely out of her mind.

It is Beesong's comment that has him snap back into focus and he almost laughs but catches himself. A brief, bitter thought drifts to the surface of his mind and he wonders why the RiverClan medicine cat cares if they fight or not; it's not like he'll do anything about it anyways.
Shaking his head he makes a very deliberate effort to ignore the River and Sky cats, leaning forward slightly to offer the newcomer a sincere smile, "Howdy, Berryheart right? Nice to meetcha-ah'm Dandelionpa-ah...Dandelionwish now I reckon. Still gettin' used to it." He waved a paw nonchalantly, mismatched gaze staring upward at the moon for a moment before he glances around with an obvious look of contempt. "Bein' honest with ya'll-ain't got no clue why we're here. Last time weren't too clear on the purpose o'this given circumstances." Unless the fighting was actually what they needed to do, in which case he could probably take all of them minus Bonejaw since she actually had the form and skill to be a proper opponent. Berryheart, no offense, looked a little on the soft side. Beesong was laughably small. Dawnglare, despite his superior air, was a kittypet. If one of them took a swing he wasn't going to hesitate to make WindClan's already barbaric reputation worse.





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[DAWNGLARE]

On this half moon, he toils.

Blankly, he lies awake, eyes glazed over in the pale moonlight. There's a nagging, a tugging at his roots. Whispers that that curl around his ears, both a sweet caress, and the crawling of a thousand little bugs, inside and out. Disgusting, sublime, it's pushy, pushy, he worries his lip at her call, heaves a pained whine of resignation. What good was there for him, in such a place? More directionless whining? Souls so devoid of hope, so undeserving of pity, foolish in every facet, and...

Hadn't they been punished for it? The thought brings a stutter to his mind, interrupts the plucking of his claws against the grass. He hadn't truly taken much in. He'd been too preoccupied with the little ones and that bright, smiling face. (The one who's eyes shone brilliant silver in the light of the moon. Ever flattering to any and all, yet he glitters like something precious) But amongst it all, there had been... things he'd felt, snippets of it all, at the least... An arrogant fool, preening at his alliance with a leader already damned. He'd spat something, something at Blaise, Blazestar. Something that had his jaw clenching and spine bristling. So quickly, an enemy was now seen in Shadowclan. There'd been that, and... sudden joy.

Joy at the announcement of their banishment, the fools who had struck her. The fools lacked both the judgment to decide what was worth their time, and the accuracy to kill. It brings a smile to his face, the product of divine punishment. Atonement, their sins would not go unrecognized, would never go unrecognized. And yet again, it brings flashing anger, frustration in the way that he nearly yearns to like the mangy Shadowclan thing, to purr in agreement, at what he's brought forth. A fluke, it must be. Star-sent possession for the sake of retribution, nothing good could come of a group that aligns themselves with Windclan. The instigator's replacement, we have already seen, but as for Thunderclan...

Well, he would like to see them.

And it's that thought that drags him up and out of camp and beneath the moonlight yet again. Fourtrees. Magnificent, yet so dull without its very muse. Nevermind that. There were faces. Many old, one new. Perhaps his gait is unexpectedly cheerful as he approaches. An unsteady waltz, along with a noise not quite there. At least, it seems that way if you aren't paying attention. He offers a bright trill in greeting, eyes squinted with the force of his close-lipped smile

"Hi," he returns, smiling to the little one, now a river-cat. At times, his mind can still seethe in bitter betrayal, that he would leave, but this would not be one such time. They've proven themself the most worthy of the off-shoots, and with this, he happily regards any semblance of closeness. His favorite, by far. Though, his gaze drifts to the one who reeks of Blazestar's kin. Eyes already scrunched become narrowed further in their observation, though a smile still remains. And he giggles at Honeybee... Bee— their words. Perhaps it was one of his few faults, he puts so much faith in those worth so little. Not once, does he shift his head, but his eyes look pointedly to the mismatched thing. "Who's to say, who's to say this little group could achieve such a thing..." dreamily, he remarks.

The Windclanner seems hellbent on ignoring him, and he can only laugh harder, bubbling cauldron of laughs, giggles poorly stamped down in his throat. How typical, how very foreseeable. Soon, he'd receive his punishment, too. It's funny, until he abandons any modicum of friendliness to redirect it towards Thunderclan. Moon-touched eyes blow wide. From Wind, to Thunder, back and forth like a pendulum. He hates, hates, hates. Worry at his lip. "They don't want to be friends with you just because both your mentors were fools, you know," it's a sweet sort of chirrup, perhaps unfitting. He does not notice. And he watches the newcomer for a reaction. How to judge, how to judge? Wind and Shadow have already drawn clear lines, why try to reach for more. Greedy. He asks for more and more. "We've just found something, hav-en't we ♪?"

"You," this time, it's directly at them, the mottled thing, wide-eyed stare and ominous tone. "So new, so fresh. How are things? And... you," he adds, addressing the Windclanner. Truly he didn't care whether he was excelling or not (though if he wasn't, it'd bring a wider smile to his face.) "I myself have seen quite the oddity. Old, decrepit thing waltzes in. Reeks of sickness, patched up, and yet..." he cringes upon remembering the sight, smile instantly dropping into unconcealed disgust. "Swelling, swelling. He mumbles of pain. Death may be oncoming," he remarks. The statement is neutral. He held no attachment to this elder, though his suffering was quite unsightly.

[ I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS GOT SO LONG AND ALSO IM SO TIRED SO THIS MIGHT SUCK BA LLS TBH ]​

 

[BERRYHEART]

Berryheart could have said he was eager to come here, but he was not fond of lying. What he had imagined when he had heard of this half-moon meeting was something along the lines of what the Executioner had suggested before she had been ejected from their territory- an opportunity to learn. It seemed unfortunately to have proven in the past to be quite the opposite. Suggestions fled from the maw of one with a half-carved face, tabby pelt petering to a bobtail- they encouraged a lack of violence, something to which Berryheart was entirely unopposed.

As unassuming and quiet as always, Berryheart let his attention flicker from one cat to the next, attempting in vain to dredge their aliases up in his memory. Bear-tail, Odd-eyes... the latter of which approached him, murmured two names. Dandelionpa-no-dandelionwish, soon cast away in favour of snap judgement. Still, his friendliness was appreciated. The speckled tom nodded in greeting, smile upon his lips though subtle in formation- soon, however, the voice of another snagged his attention away before he could make any sort of response.

"She was hardly my mentor." Said levelly, low, the words were accompanied with a shrug. She had not chosen him- the stars had, to mend the wound. Perhaps he would find in time that she had taught him something, but by all definitions of teacher she had not had the time to be one. Exile had whisked her past the borders before the day of his appointment had ended. All actions taken as a medicine cat were entirely his own, done by his own merit. Frankly, he would like to admit that he had accomplished more...

He was not fond of lying. "Very new. I can't say I know much." Pale-sky peepers stared him down, before moving on to Odd-eyes, answering his question with an observation. Miasma flowed in the scent, yet his wound was covered? What was it that Father had died of... a wound, left to fester over time... he spared a glance to his first companion, Odd-eyes, before letting olivine eyes roam the other gathered felines. One of them- he knew, an old denmate from his marsh-home, Magpie. He imagined she remembered that incident... though if she had paid much attention to it was anyone's guess. Either way he judged her not- he doubted she had much of a reason to know what had happened back then.

To Peepers, then, his attention rested. "Is there no other treatment you can attempt?" No judgement fleeced his tone- no, only curiosity. This tom had been a medic much longer than he- though, a death by a swelling wound sounded slow and painful. If there was anything else to be done- surely it would be wise to attempt it, if only to stave off such a demise for a time.

[ PENNED BY PIN ]​

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[BONERIPPLE]

The last time she had come here to make her appearance she had been unyielding, unwanting of this so called Starclan given destiny. Truthfully she is still unwanting of it but she has conceded. The molly finds ire in anyone believing she is a mistake. And plus Shadowclan needs to survive. What she knows and what she will learn is beneficial for her clan. So she has no choice but to give up her own life again completely. Move on without her sister, and stand firm on her own. Command the respect from her clanmates because now she holds their lives in her paws. For better or for worse. Her words mean something now, she sits beneath the throne of Starclan and speak their messages. Shaking her thinning frame the woman pauses for just a moment, listening to those that have already gathered. Her maw is twisted tight before she manages to push forth into their midst. Her head tilts in greetint, tail swaying as she eyes them all.

Seeing whom has replaced Cinderfrost. A tom she does not know but she still bears her greeting on a stoic visage. "Hopefully I'm not too late. Starclan seems to want to keep a tight vice grip on me." It's said with feeble humor given that she knows after they had visited her she conceded to their whims and that is all there is to it. With a breath of a sigh parting her muzzle her chaotic gaze moves to Dandelionwish then and she dips her head to him. "You seem to be doing well after everything, Dandelionwish. I'm glad." Truth be it she finds she only wishes to have conversations with the youngest medicine cat. Skyclan isn't even on her radar as she still has anger towards them but for now she falls silent. For a moment she says nothing more and then she glances towards Beesong, another familiar face here.

Though she knows which clan he originally came from he is a Riverclanner now and that is Cica's clan. Suppose that is good enough for her to feel moderately okay with the other. Especially since he has helped her a couple of times and shared his own knowledge. Yet something occurs to her and she pulls her ears back slightly. "I'm also curious as to what we are here for."​

 

[BEESONG]

beesong doesn't miss the way that dandelionpaw pointedly ignores him, and his eyes narrow by a fraction. hardly noticeable, unless one looks closely. but the healer does not comment upon it, instead choosing to listen as dandelionpaw- or dandelionwish, now- addresses the sleepy-eyed tortoiseshell. berryheart, dandelionwish refers to him as. niceties are exchanged, and beesong only hums in acknowledgement, or maybe it is agreement, far too disinterested in the small talk already.

the only one who manages to hold beesong's attention for long, is dawnglare. the taller giggles over their greeting remark, muttering something about who's to say. beesong makes a noise somewhere between a sigh and a snort, glancing up at the star-freckled sky. "not even starclan, as we've seen." if starclan could have predicted such a disaster, they do not believe cinderfrost or honeytwist would've been elected as medicine cats.

dawnglare turns comical ire onto dandelionwish, reminding the windclanner that berryheart isn't guaranteed as a friend solely because of the pair's shared unfortunate luck with mentors. beesong breathes out a laugh, although it does not fit his sharp stare flickering between dandelionwish and berryheart. dandelionwish, who had seemed friendly at the last meeting before everything went to shit. but honeytwist, beesong had known to be kind, and she had turned claws and teeth onto bonejaw. sootstar has a penchant for poisoning everything she touches, withering away that kindness until rot is the only thing left behind. beesong wonders, how quickly will dandelionwish succumb?

and berryheart, an unknown variable. too soon to tell where his paws will carry him. at least cinderfrost hadn't been given the time to properly ruin him, and underneath emberstar's rule, beesong dares to nurture a flicker of hope for the tortoiseshell. hope that starclan hasn't made another mistake with this one.

"suppose there's comfort in familiarity, though," they finally retort to dawnglare.

the conversation is pulled another direction by the dawn-frosted feline, mutterings of an elder, wounds unhealing and reeking of sickness. beesong clicks their tongue, swaying on their paws as they consider dawnglare's words. "infection?" they guess, wrinkling their nose as if they could smell the stench from fourtrees. sickly and bitter, pus leaking from an inflamed laceration. gross. they've learned a couple of things about infection, before honeytwist's exile. the cinnamon tabby searches their brain for the memory, pulling it to the forefront.

"marigold and dandelion," beesong speaks after a few heartbeats of contemplative silence. "when chewed into a poultice and applied daily, those will help fight off the infection." the elder might be too far gone, already, but the information departed will be important for future incidents.

bonejaw, to beesong's surprise, shows her face. he cannot stop the widening of his eyes, but he quickly regains his composure. "so, you've changed your mind, then?" so fickle with her loyalties, beesong thinks starclan were far too hasty in their decisions; cinderfrost, a murderer. honeytwist, driven to the brink by grief and sootstar's tyranny. bonejaw, refusing her duties... did the dead not have ample time to think over their choices?

dandelionwish and bonejaw question the purpose of meeting here, and beesong regards them with a dry smile. "to learn from each other." they've all got things they need to learn, some more-so than others. with such a hasty decision from starclan, none of them truly had the proper time to prepare for their destinies.​

 

[Dandelionwish]

“It’s almost like ah can be friendly to whoever I want to be.” The chocolate dipped tom replied with a mystified smile, focus moving from Dawnglare to Berryheart once more, “If ye need anything, know our clans ain’t to fond o’one another but I’ll help ye where ah can.” Sootstar be damned, he just wanted to not be ostracized like his clan so seemed to insist they all be.
When the SkyClan tom turned pointedly in his direction his ears went flat in thought to the sudden question. That sounded like an infection, if it was that bad it might be too late but there was always hope with pushing forward and trying.
His mouth opened to speak, reply to the question; almost eager to prove he was at least knowledgeable enough to be considered a peer but the RiverClan medicine cat cut in. Interrupted him and answered for him despite the question being addressed specifically to him. Dandelionwish closed his mismatched gaze, trying not to let his irritation be visible. If he was just going to sit here and be demeaned and talked over then why was he even here. The rudeness of it all.

He pulled his attention fully from the others, offering Bonejaw a smile, “Doin well as can be all things considered.” What was it like being in a clan that let him breath more easily and weren’t prone to such brutish displays he was kept continually on his toes and at his wits end. To be in a clan with a little more mercy to the down and trodden. A pipe dream. Wishful thinking never got anyone anywhere, his name was Dandelionwish. Not Dandelionunreasonableexpectations.

Beesong’s response to the ShadowClanner’s message is met with a sharp stare, “So yer sayin’ I can ask whatever ah want and get answers if ye know’em or are any of ye plannin’ to withhold information out of spite? Cause gonna be real honest, we either work together entirely or we don’t bother with this no more. So we’re good havin’ a proper pow-wow?”
If even one of them decided to hold their medical knowledge over the others without sharing or even offering help then he was done and he would never do this again. “Any of ye know about broken bones and sickness that makes ye sleepy?” He still had no idea how to help a cat with such severity done to the body and Perwinklekit’s current state was always at the back of his mind.

​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Sharp, his eyes flicker to– to Honeybee. Small, small thing, chestnut-striped. No. No, wrong. Itch, he itches, suddenly lothes the company of these few. He draws in on himself, tail tucked tight around clouded paws. His face seems to scrunch. Still smiling, it's like the sun glares in his eyes. "S-sure they do," He says. There's Click-click-clicking of claws against stone. Nearly, he shakes. He cannot– will not imagine the possibility of the stars being so clueless. What good would they be, then? "but perhaps, they do not wish to share." Kinder spirits than he. They try– try to reach out to those unwilling to follow them, but they can't keep their promises. Lost cause, waste of air.

'She was hardly my mentor,' the sun-splotched one replies, and he finds satisfaction in this, if true. Not yet had she the time to pollute his mind, still so malleable, in need of reworking... but, the workload would be less. Further, he would have to assess him. Nothing stands out just– just yet. Certainly better than a bad impression, isn't that right? Perhaps still, he could save him... It would make Blaise happy. A blue-sky gaze is wide at the mottled tom. A blink. One, two– "Good," eventually, he purrs. The chocolate tom's question is met with no more than a glance. (Not worth his or Her time, time.) Rap of a paw against the earth. It's fine, he couldn't care (but he does). He'd rip the throats from all of Windclan... someday. A few exceptions. A few. Comfort in familiarity, though. Dawnglare scoffs.

And... "Infection," he repeats, the very word brings with it a bad taste. He's heard of it, but the word brought a different idea to mind. Sniffles and sickness, rather than... oozing and green. Not synonymous then. Fine. Marigold and Dandelion. Side-eye towards nothing. Nothing at all... "Sure," he says. It's half-asleep, but whiskers twitch at Honeybee, and his eyes flit to Dandy- dan-de-lion ♪ Was that his name? He'd crush him into poultice, then.

Shadowclan's appearence is not surprising. Surely, the stars sent plague after plague, blinding light, swarm of locuts– something, to fetch her. Regret, he sincerely hopes she feels it. His eyes widen. His smile is bright "Oh, now she cares!" sweetly he sings. It's a chirp to Honeybee, though he's never quite subtle. Claws click quicker and quicker, until they do not. Curious to why we are here? Instantaniously, a frown deep as the sea. Hissed, "Are you listening?" he'd only just said– and yet Honeybee has to put it in layman terms for them to get the messege. Oh, he would rip them all apart, if it wouldn't cause issues for his friend...

Greedy like all Windclanners, chocolate dipped tom presses more and more. He doesn't reply, not right away... Instead, he allows his smile to reappear. So demanding, this thing... And so funny, his words. His snicker is poorly hidden behind bitten lips and a thumping tail. 'are any of ye plannin’ to withhold information out of spite?' Spite, isn't that blasphemous? Rightful hatred, he'd rather say. Repentance, punishment... It's his to dole out.

Broken bones, sleeping sickness? Isn't that... something? Away– look away. He chews at his lip, bitten-back grin. Who, but who? Sootstar? A lead warrior? Let them rot, the thought is instant, but... stipulations. "W-who's bones are broken?" he asks. (Ridiculous to some, maybe. He does not care.) "Sleepy sickness? ...Elaborate."​