Quote:
Originally Posted by tawny~
[Start of the I'm Tired of Being Here Plot.] @Lawlipop
Leafwatcher, also known as Heolstar in the Dusk Syndicate was anxious. Finally, he was normal again. No evil plans, no wicked killings. He was himself. Amnesia? Not his problem anymore. He had bigger things to deal with. Such as.. getting out of the Dusk Syndicate. Now, that was the biggest problem he had. He was really.. really itching to go home. And, quickly too. Home was all he could really think of. His bright leaf green eyes drifted across the clearing, trying to hide his anxiousness. Though, some cats could probably see was anxious. Why he was? Some could guess that he was anxious about the Dusk Syndicate state of being. Little numbers and all. But he wasn't. It was a bigger picture. And only the smartest, and sane cats could see that. He wished he could think of.. something.. a plan.. anything to get out of this place. One of these cats had killed his mother. And.. he didn't want to stick around to find out who. If he could help it. The tom-cat let out a sigh, and started to groom his marbled brown tabby pelt. More of a distraction tactic than anything else. Leafwatcher could, at times disguise how he was feeling so others wouldn't worry. Which, sometimes was a good thing. And then.. on the other paw, it was a bad thing. |
What was a medicine cat to a clan? To their clanmates, they were respected cats of their clan. Their leader needed them and depended on them for choices about the clan. They are never required to lift a claw against danger, but are the strongest cat in the clan. Now, compare that to a healer in the dark home of the Syndicate? Are they recieved the same care as a medicine cat would? Would a Commander come to them to seek guidance? No, they don't. They are expected to not only deal with the Syndicate's sick and wounded, but also deal with the abuse given by their patients. In a home that advocates the pain inflicted to them, mentally or physically, it's a miracle how no cat hasn't shoved a poisonous yew down one of their throats before. The lives medicine cats and healers live, though their objective is the same, are very different. Who live stronger lives are debatable and their answer may be swayed on bias. To Rosaleen, a healer is stronger, they must have so much weight on their shoulders. She never asked to be one, but she also never asked to be born to a home that condemn the weak or anything too needy to survive on their own. She is a small little thing, only as old as 7 moons, and is training to become the Syndicate's "burdens". She wasn't happy at all by it, but what could she do to change it? Complain to Halite? Not if she didn't want her to be slashed open and left as crowfood. The feathery ginger and white molly sat outside the healer's den, watching over trainees her age, but living different paths. Two were sparring out, with claws out and hissing in the air. This was kitten's play, a Syndicate cat would say. Her ears drooped as she scanned the area more. She spotted a brown tom out by himself, looking a bit upset. Why would he be so upset? Chin up, show less weakness! she thought, her emotions and tail moving as if she said it out loud. Deciding she wanted to find out what was bothering him, she jumped up and walked over to him. "Hello! What are you up to?"