- Mar 14, 2024
- 175
- 20
- 18
... I wanna go home.
The thought popped into her mind rather intrusively, like a pendent tempting her to grab at it, snowfall thawing into a slush within her cold-addled brain. It was much like the early winter itself - prying, obtrusive, seeping into every little segment and crevice of her rounded frame. The medicine cat apprentice attempted to ignore it at first, for her clan needed her more than ever. What kind of a cat could she be if she were to abandon them during the blizzard? Still, she could not help but allow homesickness to swathe over her as though a balmy humidity that reigned stronger than the cold. Celandinepaw missed the warmth of snuggling underneath the haystacks, as though the worries of winter simply perspired upon her back, drifting away into the embrace of peaceful dreams. She pressed against her mother's side, with her muzzle deep within the pockets of pulsing heat between her siblings. By then, she had been grown enough to stray away from her birthgiver's belly, but she still insisted on sleeping with her kin. Attempting to wrest any heat from the medicine cat den now seemed like an impossible task, like trying to drink all the meltwater from the rain, for it would simply slide past her without much of a care. The outside world cared naught for her survival, not as the workfolk did. This was a crueler god, one that neglected any spirit that could not pass its harsh judgment. So, why should she spare it the joy and satisfaction of watching her succumb to its madness?
It's just for a day or so. They'll hardly notice it. Cottonsprig will be so focused on counting the herbs and making sure that they don't go bad that she won't care about my absence. I'll tell her I got lost in the snow, huddled down in a badger's den or something. Guilt still wracked at her every pawstep, riveting through each movement, but she could not take the volume of the knell for much longer. As the hours passed, she had given up on the intricacies of her master plan.
A scant bundle of traveling herbs lie within her jaws, as if powder positioned precariously within dulled laniaries, careful not to pierce through the brittle leaves. Fragile leaves of daisy lie below her feet - a meager amount, but she tried to take as many as she figured would not raise suspicions. Besides, the journey to the Horseplace was one that she had traveled many times, and she knew the path like the creases in her own pawpads. The wheat-colored molly would stick out through the snowstorm, jutting out like a sore thumb, but she couldn't find much more care to give. Celandinepaw let out a mist-laden sigh as she stared at the outside, blanketed and smothered in a stark alabaster that allowed for little else. She had grown sick of it so easily, grown tired of the monochrome that lie violently upon her gaze. She had just been about to depart when her head bumped into a larger and warmer form, and olivine gaze rested upwards upon the imposing moor runner, like a perforation in her not-well-thought-out-at-all plan. "Dimmingsun! Hey! I, uh, I was just taking these to the elders." She hoped that he did not recognize what the daisy leaves were for, or that he would not question why she would set out at this time of day (she couldn't readily tell, but it must have been close to night's unfurling at the very least). Tense and thin-lipped smile furrowed along her sallow countenance. Of all the cats to see right now...
The thought popped into her mind rather intrusively, like a pendent tempting her to grab at it, snowfall thawing into a slush within her cold-addled brain. It was much like the early winter itself - prying, obtrusive, seeping into every little segment and crevice of her rounded frame. The medicine cat apprentice attempted to ignore it at first, for her clan needed her more than ever. What kind of a cat could she be if she were to abandon them during the blizzard? Still, she could not help but allow homesickness to swathe over her as though a balmy humidity that reigned stronger than the cold. Celandinepaw missed the warmth of snuggling underneath the haystacks, as though the worries of winter simply perspired upon her back, drifting away into the embrace of peaceful dreams. She pressed against her mother's side, with her muzzle deep within the pockets of pulsing heat between her siblings. By then, she had been grown enough to stray away from her birthgiver's belly, but she still insisted on sleeping with her kin. Attempting to wrest any heat from the medicine cat den now seemed like an impossible task, like trying to drink all the meltwater from the rain, for it would simply slide past her without much of a care. The outside world cared naught for her survival, not as the workfolk did. This was a crueler god, one that neglected any spirit that could not pass its harsh judgment. So, why should she spare it the joy and satisfaction of watching her succumb to its madness?
It's just for a day or so. They'll hardly notice it. Cottonsprig will be so focused on counting the herbs and making sure that they don't go bad that she won't care about my absence. I'll tell her I got lost in the snow, huddled down in a badger's den or something. Guilt still wracked at her every pawstep, riveting through each movement, but she could not take the volume of the knell for much longer. As the hours passed, she had given up on the intricacies of her master plan.
A scant bundle of traveling herbs lie within her jaws, as if powder positioned precariously within dulled laniaries, careful not to pierce through the brittle leaves. Fragile leaves of daisy lie below her feet - a meager amount, but she tried to take as many as she figured would not raise suspicions. Besides, the journey to the Horseplace was one that she had traveled many times, and she knew the path like the creases in her own pawpads. The wheat-colored molly would stick out through the snowstorm, jutting out like a sore thumb, but she couldn't find much more care to give. Celandinepaw let out a mist-laden sigh as she stared at the outside, blanketed and smothered in a stark alabaster that allowed for little else. She had grown sick of it so easily, grown tired of the monochrome that lie violently upon her gaze. She had just been about to depart when her head bumped into a larger and warmer form, and olivine gaze rested upwards upon the imposing moor runner, like a perforation in her not-well-thought-out-at-all plan. "Dimmingsun! Hey! I, uh, I was just taking these to the elders." She hoped that he did not recognize what the daisy leaves were for, or that he would not question why she would set out at this time of day (she couldn't readily tell, but it must have been close to night's unfurling at the very least). Tense and thin-lipped smile furrowed along her sallow countenance. Of all the cats to see right now...
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OUT OF CHARACTER. @DIMMINGSUN hi <3
❁ — MEDICINAL EXPERTISE: Celandinepaw is the current medicine cat apprentice of Windclan. Although she is quite new to her position, she also has much expertise with treatment regarding infectious diseases and basic remedies. As for anything more complex... you're better off asking a more experienced medicine cat.
WOUNDS — ★☆☆☆☆
ACHES — ★☆☆☆☆
INFECTIONS — ★☆☆☆☆
BROKEN BONES — ★☆☆☆☆
CONTAGIOUS ILLNESSES — ★★★★☆
CHRONIC ILLNESSES — ★☆☆☆☆
POISONS — ★☆☆☆☆
KITTING — ★☆☆☆☆
TRAVELING — ★★★☆☆ -
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