[Charmer]

Originally Posted by Duskflight

The leader was quietly glad that the medicine cat didn't respond to his comment about him having many seasons left, he wanted to move on from that subject quicker than anything. And by the grace of Starclan the change of subject came, focusing now on the herb that Shinefang had scented and told him about. It took him a moment to pick out the smell, but he was able to, doing his best to document it in his head so that if he needed the information later on, he could recall it. Though part of him was doubtful that he would remember it, there were many other things that he had to worry about as leader, the smell of a herb was unfortunately not high on his priority list. But he did appreciate the medicine cat teaching him about it, it was a kind gesture.
Turning his head, he tried to pinpoint the source of the relatively sweet smell, his tail flicking back and forth in thought but it was just so hard when other smells tried to grab his attention. Perhaps it was something that the medicine cat had gotten used to, looking for herbs. What did he say it looked like?
A.. Fern or something? Grousestar almost wanted to imagine it as a flower, since it did have a sweet smell, but another part of him argued that that's not what Shinefang told him it looked like. Luckily enough he didn't have to think about it for long because the older tom had already found it.
With a newfound smile, he quickly padded after Shinefang as he approached the fern-like plant. "Hm, well I suppose we're pretty lucky to have some in the territory! Hopefully we won't have to use it a whole lot, now that the Syndicate is truly gone." His tail flicked back and forth slowly as he watched the other tom struggle to pull the root up out of the ground. "Oh!
Well in that case, I do hope we use it a lot! It's always good to have more kits in the clan. And really? That's good news, I'm glad to hear it. Perhaps I could visit her sometime in the nursery after she's had her little ones; I do love seeing all the kits." Flicking his ear, something flickered in his mind as they were on the topic of queens and kits. He lost his mate and his kits.. He had heard it around the camp, though hadn't actually gotten all of the details. Glancing over, Grousestar didn't really think about what he was asking, or how it might hurt the other tom, he more or less blurted it out.
"Isn't it painful? To help the queens.. I mean surely, you must enjoy being able to help them bring new life into the clan, but does.. It still hurt?"
The leader blinked a bit after he said this before quickly going to correct himself.
"I apologize for being so blunt. If it's too much to answer, feel free to ignore what I asked."

Shinefang continued digging as Grousestar spoke. "You should. Just make sure no toms come to visit at the same time. Handsome young tom like you around their mates? They may get the wrong idea." Shinefang let out a mischievous chortle at his own off-color joke, then grabbed hold of the stem in his teeth again and pulled. This time the root came free, and he stumbled back as he struggled to keep his balance. He inspected the knobby root briefly and nodded. "That's a good one," he muttered to himself. He'd heard Groustar's question, but didn't answer right away. He didn't turn and look at the leader. When he had given the root a lengthy inspection, he stood straight and stared into the distance. "I just don't want to see it happen to another queen... to another father. I remember some things from when Slatepelt was in the nursery... before she kitted. But I want... need to learn more." The tom turned around and glanced briefly at the young, brown tabby. His remaining orange eye was clouded with grief. "I missed her everyday." Shinefang had always felt like a little part of himself had died that day. For the longest time, part of him wished the rest had too. But he'd survived. He'd moved forward, and he'd become an outstanding warrior. He'd made a good life for himself. But he'd have traded it all for just one more day with Slatepelt. The tom stood up at last. "We ought to keep moving," when he looked at Grousestar, the grief was gone again, shoved into the darkest corner of his being where anger and hatred for the cats he blamed for her death festered and infected him for years until it had become a part of him. Now he just looked like the driven warrior-turned-medicine cat again. "We'll collect the root on the way back."