WORK TILL YOU'RE DEAD — herb patrol

[BEESONG]

beesong had wasted no time after the patrol announcements; he'd gathered up the three apprentices, giving them a brief rundown of the herbs they'd be searching for, marigold and comfrey, with visual references from his stock. once he was certain that they had a decent enough idea of what the herbs looked and smelled like, the cinnamon tabby led the patrol out of the camp. he sets a brisk pace, trotting along the riverbank where he knows marigold and comfrey grow best. starclan knows he doesn't want to be caught up in rain, if the clouds gathering in the morning sky and the winds picking up speed are any warning for the approaching storm. if he can help it, he wants to gather all that they can and head back to camp before the rain sets in.

"remember what cindershade told you; behave yourselves, or else," beesong reminds the trio of apprentices as a patch of marigold comes into view up ahead. they can understand why cindershade assigned three apprentices and no warriors to this patrol; it'd be easier to send the youth of the clan on a herb-hunting patrol rather than warriors whose experience and skill could be utilized elsewhere. still, beesong couldn't help but feel as if they'd been put on babysitting duty for the morning. "and for the love of the stars, do not touch any plants without permission." beesong had shown them what marigold and comfrey look like, but they still don't want the children running around and plucking any plant they see. there are dangerous poisons that could kill a grown cat within minutes if ingested.

[ @RAVENPAW. @CRAPPIEPAW @dovepaw. ; this patrol will be gathering 2 doses of marigold and 1 dose of comfrey as per my last herb roll! ]​

 

[CRAPPIEPATCH]

The calico trots along beside Ravenpaw, Dovepaw, and Beesong, a satisfied little smile on their face. They are on a real-life herb patrol, and they are helping the clan. Plus, they do not have to run around and kill prey. And they do not have to pretend they like any cats from other clans at the land’s borders, either. Trailing along with the rest of the herb patrol, they feel as though they are finally in their element—of course, ignoring the terrible nerves that plague their every step. What if they step on something that Beesong could use? What if they step on something that Beesong told them not to touch? What if they step on a poisonous plant, and then they lose their memory like Petalnose had? They do not want to end up like Petalnose.

"Marigold. Comfrey. Marigold. Comfrey." Their little chant is spoken under their breath, white paws lifting high enough to be amusing as they pick their way through the brush. They are not too concerned about the rain that will likely come later; their nose is already congested in preparation, and they could scent nothing of the plants that they had been shown before heading out on this patrol. Still, their eyes are keen and they catch sight of something off to one side, little white tail twitching as they move toward it. "Is this one comfrey?" It has small pink flowers and leaves with tiny little prickles on them, but the leaves are sort of strange. Does the shape of the leaves matter that much? The apprentice does not know, and they are not stupid, so they do not touch the plant.


// the plant they found is supposed to be houndstongue lol
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[ dancing in the panic room ]​

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[RAVENSONG]

He walked beside the other apprentices, his head lowered and eyes half-lidded as the scent of newleaf assaulted his sensitive nose. Plants, weeds, flowers, the smell of them all mixed together and blooming made his brain tickle. When snow coated the ground, made everything hide away, it was much more bearable.

Because of his deficiency in color, Ravenpaw relied on the shape of the plants Beesong had shown them. "Understood." He rumbled, glancing curiously at Dovepaw and Crappiepaw. He was fairly sure neither of them would touch without permission—neither seemed the type to be so reckless, so his fur lay down against his spine and he tried to ease himself.

Eyeing the patch of marigold that Beesong had already looked at, Ravenpaw picked up his pace to pass Crappiepaw and their investigation of comfrey to study the marigold. Ravenpaw bowed his head and let his whiskers brush the stalk and petals of the plant to discern its shape better. "Is this marigold?" He murmured, looking over his shoulder.

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[dovethroat.]

Unlike his friend, Dovepaw was much more amicable to the life and smells and warmth that newleaf brought them. Ravenpaw had told him of how the scents made head hurt (or something like that—he did not really get it), and so much of his time was spent idly worrying that perhaps Ravenpaw was in a state of discomfort at any given moment. He did not like to think that; that his friend was in pain.

Though the defiant part of him wanted to whine at being treated like such a child that he could not touch anything, Dovepaw swallowed the tiny impulse and went about looking for the herbs that they had been directed to pick out. The colors and shapes were stuck rather firmly in his head, and so he thought there was no real way he could ruin this.

Unless, unbeknownst to him, there was some herb(s) that looked exactly like marigold and/or comfrey. Hopefully that was not the case. He did want to impress Beesong, even if a nagging voice in the back of his head told him it was pointless to even try. It was nice to be asked, even if it was probably because of the fact that he just got on with the other two better than he could deal with most.

Skirting past Crappie, and then past Ravenpaw, Dovepaw went sniffing and sorting through the grass as he looked to complete his assignment. Before he could reach anything that looked right, though, Ravenpaw spoke up. His ears angling in his direction, Dovepaw trotted over for a closer look.

"I... I... th-think?" Unsurprisingly, his confidence was basically zero. At least out loud.

[⋆]​

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[BEESONG]

crappiepaw is the first to find something; they call out, is this one comfrey, and beesong's ear swivels in the direction of the nasal voice. his head follows, critical gaze shooting to the flowers at the apprentice's paws as he draws near for a closer look. aqua eyes examining, scrutinizing. after a moment, beesong shakes his head. "no," comes the matter-of-fact response. at first glance, the plant— which he recognizes as houndstongue, a plant he knows no medicinal use for— might look similar to comfrey... but the leaves aren't the correct shape, and the smell is off; instead of a distinctive tangy scent, the musty odor of the houndstongue reminds beesong of mice.

they don't think to elaborate. no should be enough of an answer, in their mind, for this herb patrol. memorize the plant and don't approach it again.

ravenpaw is the next to call out to them. beesong turns away from crappiepaw and the houndstongue to inspect what ravenpaw thinks is marigold; and, thank the stars, the raven-furred apprentice is correct in his assumption. beesong recognizes it instantly. marigold has become such a staple herb in riverclan the past few moons, they think they could recognize those bitter-smelling yellow flowers from across the territory. the cinnamon tabby hums their approval, nodding. "it is," they respond with a twitch of their whiskers, confident voice a stark contrast to dovepaw's uncertain agreement.

crouching down, beesong harvests what he can, making sure to leave behind enough flowers for the herb to be able to reproduce; which only ends up being enough marigold for a couple of doses. not enough, if riverclan's to go to war with two clans, but better than nothing. he flicks one paw toward the small bundle. "would any of you like to carry it?"​

 

[dovethroat.]

The blunt rejection of Crappiepaw's finding does inspire more than a little sympathy and sadness in the bleeding-heart apprentice, but Dovepaw tries not to outwardly show it. As a kit, he often learned that displaying emotions like pity or anything close to it toward other people was wont to go terribly awry. Probably not with Crappiepaw, but he did not want to take any chances. Especially in front of Beesong—and, regrettably, Ravenpaw (albeit to a smaller extent).

Regardless, Beesong's response to his uncertain approval made his heart sink regardless. He could not help but feel like they were passing judgment upon him as they answered.

Perhaps that feeling was what led him to be so willing to offer himself as help—to prove himself in the dullest and most inconsequential way possible. "Ah, I—I could." He offered ungracefully.

[⋆]​

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[CRAPPIEPATCH]

Being turned down so quickly, so carelessly, by the healer sends Crappiepaw’s ears flattening against their head. They receive no explanation of why they are wrong, no correction of what the plant is called—none of the knowledge that could have been gained even from their failure. Just… no. Beesong does not say anything more, instead walking off to approve of Ravenpaw’s marigold. It is an obnoxiously bright flower, so much simpler to catch sight of than comfrey.

Suddenly, they do not feel as eager to be on this herb patrol alongside the clan’s healer. "Oh." The calico glances around, spotting nothing of use. "I…" Nothing. They will say nothing more. They should not give the cinnamon tabby another reason to brush them off. Dovepaw offers to carry the marigold back, and Crappiepaw simply… watches.

This was supposed to be fun.
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[ my my, cold hearted child ]​

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