- Oct 13, 2023
- 222
- 12
- 18
Softpaw had hoped that with Dawnglare in ThunderClan, that she would have been able to glean something helpful from the off-putting tom – and though she couldn’t say that she hadn’t learned more than she had known, she hadn’t been enlightened in the way she’d expected to be. Softpaw liked to learn straightforwardly, and Dawnglare had been anything but, leaving Softpaw with answers that she didn’t know how to make sense of.
She’d told herself, that once Dawnglare was gone back to SkyClan, that she would approach Gentlestorm with her same questions – but when she’d made that decision, she’d thought Dawnglare would be more helpful in the literal sense than he had been. Now, she felt as if she was going to Gentlestorm with the same questions she’d gone to Dawnglare with, with a few additional ones that would garner odd looks from any other cat. She hoped not for Gentlestorm, though.
The girl’s resolved had only been strengthened the other day when Roaringpaw had fallen ill after returning from a patrol, and with a swish of her tail and a confidence in her step that she wondered if she was faking, Softpaw approached the medicine cat’s den, the same as she had so many days ago when she had made sure to have an audience with Dawnglare uninterrupted. The cacophony of herbal scents assaulted her senses as she pushed her way inside, and she cleared her throat, making her presence known.
“Gentlestorm,” Softpaw spoke softly, characteristic of herself, “I was hoping to take a moment of your time, if you have nothing else to attend to.” The last thing she wanted was to distract the medicine cat from his important work, but she knew that a bit of her eagerness bled through in her voice. She only hoped that Gentlestorm wouldn’t think her childish for it.
She’d told herself, that once Dawnglare was gone back to SkyClan, that she would approach Gentlestorm with her same questions – but when she’d made that decision, she’d thought Dawnglare would be more helpful in the literal sense than he had been. Now, she felt as if she was going to Gentlestorm with the same questions she’d gone to Dawnglare with, with a few additional ones that would garner odd looks from any other cat. She hoped not for Gentlestorm, though.
The girl’s resolved had only been strengthened the other day when Roaringpaw had fallen ill after returning from a patrol, and with a swish of her tail and a confidence in her step that she wondered if she was faking, Softpaw approached the medicine cat’s den, the same as she had so many days ago when she had made sure to have an audience with Dawnglare uninterrupted. The cacophony of herbal scents assaulted her senses as she pushed her way inside, and she cleared her throat, making her presence known.
“Gentlestorm,” Softpaw spoke softly, characteristic of herself, “I was hoping to take a moment of your time, if you have nothing else to attend to.” The last thing she wanted was to distract the medicine cat from his important work, but she knew that a bit of her eagerness bled through in her voice. She only hoped that Gentlestorm wouldn’t think her childish for it.