Shadowlight poked her head into the den. "E-Elmshadow?" she said quietly. "I was wondering if you needed any herbs? Dreamingbloom and I can gather them if you tell me what they look like." Internally, she shuddered with excitement. The medicine den! I could live in here, I like it so much.
Shadowlight poked her head into the den. "E-Elmshadow?" she said quietly. "I was wondering if you needed any herbs? Dreamingbloom and I can gather them if you tell me what they look like." Internally, she shuddered with excitement. The medicine den! I could live in here, I like it so much.
DreamingBloom "Yes, we want to help." DreamingBloom said, sitting next to Shadowlight. (Short post. Sorry) @Pitou
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PLEASE KNOW THAT MY CHARACTERS HAVE VERY DIFFERENT VIEWS AND OPINIONS THAN ME!! And that they may think or act in ways you might not deem acceptable, but I do not think or act in these ways.
Ashkit shyly entered the medicine den, limping on three paws. The fourth one, which she was holding up, had a long thorn stuck quite deep in it. The thorn was more like an excuse to talk with the medicine cat. She knew what she needed to use to heal her wound: marigold or... something with bell in it, she believed.
"Um... Elmshadow?" she asked thinly, looking for the medicine.
Shadow Fiend: Inactive | Beefed Up (T1)
(pp permission given by@/Rose and @/Estelle)
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”Elmshadow! Help!” Darkfall frantically called in a muffled tone as he carefully pushed his way into the medicine cat’s den. There was a small black and white she-kit hanging from his jaws, and the form of the youngest enforcer was strewn across his back. To be honest, the newest enforcer was exhausted from the trek back to the camp. The weight of the cat across his back and the fact that he not only had to be extra careful so as not to jostle either one of the lives he was carrying, but also keep a slower pace for Flowerpaw, and be on the lookout for predators attracted to the blood was an unbelievably stressful experience. The entire time he was walking, all he could think about was bringing Larkfire and her surviving kit back to camp safely. As his legs went numb from walking, he would inwardly chant to himself over and over again that he would get back and Elmshadow would be able to do something to heal them. He wouldn’t accept anything else.
Not even waiting for instructions, he gently set the newborn down and slid Larkfire off of his back before sticking the former next to her mother and covering her in a few gentle licks for warmth. Panting and out of breath, he began explaining the situation. ”Larkfire. Out. Icy Heartlands. Kits. Lots of blood. So much blood. One stillborn. Barely conscious. Carried Here. Help, please.” He huffed in that same frantic tone. His brain was moving one hundred miles a second and he was unable to properly get his thoughts out to form a proper sentence, he just hoped that Elmshadow would be able to make sense of it all. During the trip to the camp, the worries and doubts that he had temporarily buried had festered and were now beginning to come forth. What if Elmshadow couldn’t do anything? What would happen if Larkfire died? Would her kit die too? Would she curse him from StarClan? Oh gosh, there was just too much going on!
[ @Pitou @Rose @poppy. @Estelle So uhh I haven’t the slightest clue how the post order should go because I didn’t ask, whoops]
Quote:
Originally Posted by poppy.
Flowerpaw
The young molly hopped into her father's den, eyes glued keenly to her sister atop Darkfall's back. The calico searched the den for the fur pattern that she associated with dad but also not-dad. Darkfall was exhausted and clearly stressed, and Flowerpaw was too shellshocked to be panicked so she tried to add her two cents. "Larki- Larkfire had her kits... out in Icy Heartlands, there were.... there were complications. Two, only one is... is alive, and Larkfire is.... she needs help." She found her voice, forcing it steady as she made eye contact with the healer, wondering if maybe the eye contact would make him realize that he actually wanted to be apart of her life.
But now wasn't the time. Her sister was ill, and Flowerpaw sat down beside the nest, cradling the small, deceased tom-kit as she glanced at Larkfire, wondering if her sister wanted her son with her or if she was just too out of it to notice. Darkfall's pleas seem to suffice, and she wasn't going to bombard the medicine cat with more pleases, but she was damn close to. she just wanted her sister and niece to be okay.
Larkfire
She/Her | Shadow Fiend & Beefed Up (T1) Purrk
The world was rotating. Round and round it went, spinning merrily on it's axis and only helping Larkfire feel an overwhelming desire to throw up. At least, she had enough dignity to keep reins on her retching. Especially when she clearly seemed to have plenty an onlooker. "You talk too much." She mumbled deliriously - almost conversationally - to the dark blob who'd dumped her on the ground (rude!). Mind you, it had been very gentle dumping, but the usual filter on Larkfire's words seemed to have disappeared.
"And youuu..." She turned to the other blob - or tried to turn, and only managed to let her head flop to the side, amber eyes squinting into the darkness until she could make out vivid green eyes that seemingly floated in the air. Strange, wasn't there supposed to be more of a.. cat shape somewhere? Maybe she had to blink twice with one eye to make the rest of the feline appear. That made sense, right? "Youu... look familiar." She said, the sentence aimed in Elmshadow's direction. Her words carried a cadence of wonder, as if this were some marvelous discovery.
She waited a beat, or two, before recognizing a small bundle of warmth at her side and subconsciously curling towards it protectively. Someone else was saying something, it was a feminine voice this time, and Larkfire caught a few of the words -- help? Help Larkfire? Wait, wait, wait.. That was her.
"S..son't (son't? don't? which was the correct term?) need.. help." She muttered defensively. "Maybe... a little sleep." Her words were growing progressively quieter by the moment, followed by a tired yawn. Sleep sounded good. Like buzzing bees. Buzzing.. bees? Now that reminded her of something, something to do with a black and white, amber-eyed apprentice, but Larkfire was too tired to chase that line of thought further.
[ @Pitou - Elmshadow / @Estelle - Sleepykit | This is very all-over-the-place, ack ]
The scent of blood sent a tingle of unease down Elmshadow’s spine. He looked up, moving to the front of his den in time to see a worrying group of cats rushing in. He took it in quickly, Larkfire atop Darkfall carrying a newborn kit and Flowerpaw close behind. There weren’t any particular injuries apparent but Elmshadow had been aware of Larkfire’s increasingly noticeable pregnancy, was she really so far along? He assumed quickly that the blood scent must be a sign of a kitting gone wrong, out in the territory no less. Maybe she was sooner in her pregnancy, like Elmshadow had originally suspected, and thus the kitting was a surprise. Otherwise, Elmshadow hadn’t taken Larkfire to be so frog-brained as to go traipsing about the territory with kits due at any moment, and all the way out to the Icy Heartlands, if Darkfall was to be taken at his word, and Elmshadow saw no reason for the young tom to be anything but truthful. ”Find her a nest. Flowerpaw, collect feathers for the nest and then I’ll put a couple dock leaves out for you to add to her nest as well. Darkfall, you can help move Larkfire for Flowerpaw to make the nest.” As with most of the truest Shadowclanners, Larkfire was hesitant for help but rarely did the medicine cat take that into account when they were in need, pride aside.
He moved to the back of his den swiftly and grabbed a blessed thistle, burnet, and a raspberry leaf. None of the herbs were a dry as he would have liked so they’d simply have to be eaten like most other herbs. He grabbed a broad leaf and smothered one side in honey then slid it to the little trickling stream to pull a ball of moss out and set it in the honey then wrapped the broad leaf around the wet moss and carried everything to Larkfire’s nest. If she was still holding onto some consciousness, the process would be faster and easier, otherwise he’d leave Darkfall to the task of awaiting until she did regain her consciousness to encourage her to consume the herbs. ”Larkfire, eat these,” he placed the blessed thistle, burnet, and raspberry leaf together in front of the enforcer. ”The blessed thistle will help promote your milk to come in. A traumatic kitting can delay everything but what your kit needs most is milk and warmth right now. The raspberry leaf with quell any residual bleeding, and the burnet is just for some extra strength. Then unwrap this and drink, it’s honey water that will lend some energy and keep you hydrated. Your kit needs you healthy as quickly as possible, so I won’t hear of any heroics.”
"My belly hurts." Shadowkit whimpered, curling up into a tight ball.
"She threw up earlier." Mapleshade fretted. Honestly she was more worried then her kit.
Elmshadow nodded as his attention remained on the kit. He turned his way back to the herb storage and grabbed a piece of the older dried yarrow. Fresh, the herb had a tendency to be mildly toxic and induced vomiting, dried, however, it had the opposite affect. He returned to the honey water he'd made that had not yet been drunk and crushed the dried yarrow into it, maneuvering it carefully to mix the herbs into the honey and water then placed it in front of the kit again. "Drink this, as much as you can get down." He turned to Mapleshade and instructed, "Make sure she gets that down. Throwing up will dehydrate her and that'll kill her faster than just any bellyache. The herbs in it should also help settle her stomach." A kit vomiting was a dangerous ailment, it didn't take much to dehydrate the small bodies and there were few things as deadly as exactly that. He returned to the stores and grabbed a poppy seed, carrying that back but holding it back from Shadowkit for the time being. More than anything he was sure the poppy seed would help the kit sleep. A sleeping kit was less likely to hurt herself or make herself more sick. He looked again to Mapleshade, "Has she eaten anything she shouldn't have? Any herbs or plants or bad freshkill? If she was vomiting there may have been a reason, something her body was trying to dispel. If she ate something, it'll have to be brought up before she will get better." He realized that if the answer was yes he'd have wasted the honey and yarrow in the next step of inducing vomiting, but hydrating first seemed worth the risk of wasting a few herbs. Besides, if it was something she'd eaten, he would've hoped that'd have been among the first things the mother would have mentioned.
[ -1 yarrow ]
Quote:
Originally Posted by WhiteDawn
Blackhawk
Shadowclan Warrior
He entered the den and sat on the first nest he found, it was kinda comfy actually... he had been used to dirt in the Outskirts... He started to lick around his wound as he was ordered to. "I don't have any wounds aside, however I think it started to infect itself.", he then responded.
Elmshadow nodded in acknowledgement, chewing the marigold and comfrey until they formed a cohesive poultice. He sniffed at the mostly cleaned wound, picking up the distinct though mild scent of infection. It hadn’t had the time to take a full hold and would likely be resolved with the marigold alone. ”Hold still.” Assuming the warrior sat still and allowed him to do his work, Elmshadow would spread the poultice over the wound and wrap it all with the unwound cobwebs. ”This should ease some of the pain and take care of any infection taking root.”
Quote:
Originally Posted by Alchemist Kitsune
| Silverlark |
Shadow Fiend - Inactive | Just a Scratch - Inactive | Beefed Up [Tier 2] - Inactive
It was a kneejerk reaction at this point, really. The bubbling of ire that he felt in the pit of his stomach whenever he heard the medicine cat speak. He knew, of course, that this wasn't just any clanmate - not that it would have mattered, a clanmate was a clanmate - but a high rank. The clan's medicine cat. The one who ensured the well being and health of the clan. Unless they were related to him, evidently, as the young warrior had lost everyone - save one - in a single night, all thanks to his inability to do his job.
Silverlark understood it wasn't as simple as that. He'd reflected on that one night enough times, gone back to it countless nights, only to come up with the same conclusion every time. It wasn't that he hadn't been able to save his mother. Things... happened. Death was inevitable. It was a lesson he'd seen repeat itself over and over again. Sunsetthorn's death was not Elmshadow's fault. He got that.
But everything else? The neglect to the point of having his daughter - one of the kindest, most loving cats the gray tom had ever known - loath him? Never having been there for his family to the point of having had Shader not know how to react to a simple I love you. They were family, and yet the idea of family loving her was so... impossible for her she had been incapable of responding with anything other than silence and a hug, as much to hold him up in his grief as it had been to hold herself up in her shock. The fact that he had been unwilling to even name his sister... Elmshadow's own granddaughter. The kit that Sunsetthorn had died to birth. And he couldn't even name her... All of these things were what cemented his hatred of the tom. And the audacity of looking so much like him? That was just an extra strike, a blow to the face.
And yet the young warrior did as he was told. Even with all the layers of contempt he held for this tom, Silverlark was a proper warrior. He would never reduce himself to the levels his former mentor had displayed. To threaten and disobey simply because he disliked the medicine cat? It was pathetic. A warrior of ShadowClan should show more grit and professionality than that.
Verdant hues on his grandfather's identical gaze, the grayscale warrior watched as Elmshadow chewed his poultice, finishing his own task in the process. He had nothing to say, really, having never had a... proper conversation with the tom. It had always been rebellion, attempts to show he was nothing like the older feline, or sorrow and anger after his mother's passing. Everything after that had been strict. Stern. A cold deference in which he did as the medicine cat needed and nothing else. With all this in mind, it was little surprise then when a befuddled expression crossed Silverlark's eyes at the unexpected congratulations.
Had he... ever heard the tom say anything positive before? Anything that showed he noticed his family? Perhaps once, long ago... but that had only been after cold, distant words had dismissed two litters of kits who had only recently learned what lay beyond the nursery walls had been expected to learn how to do proper hunting crouches. The expectation itself did not bother the younger warrior - a fact that disturbed him somewhat, knowing he would probably expect the same from his own young if he were to ever be blessed with any - but the words? Surely there could have been kinder ways to teach waddling balls of fur? And yet that very same, cold, calculating tom stood here, congratulating him now? He found himself feeling similar to what he expected Shader had felt that night, moons ago now. Uncertain of how to proceed with that information.
While his brain processed what had just happened, he felt the sting of the poultice on his wound, and his muscles tensed at the sensation. Funny, really, how the bite had barely tickled, yet a few, squished up petals could make his fur bristle. Silence followed as the medicine cat treated him, and the new warrior considered the option of simply... letting it be. Elmshadow barely gave a word, a glance, a sign of acknowledgement to him or the rest of his family. Perhaps it would be a fitting medicine for the healer, to taste the same bitter lack of affection from someone else during a rare moment of... whatever that had been.
The idea died in his mind the moment it had been formed. Much as he loathed the gray tom, Silverlark could not bring himself to do it. To ignore the kind words. What would that make him, if he acted just as he'd known Elmshadow to behave his entire life? It would make him be exactly what he had been scared of becoming his entire life. Turn him into the cat he always feared his mother saw when she looked at him. Instead, he gave the tom a sideway glance as he applied the poultice.
"Thanks," he stated simply, allowing his gaze to drift away from his grandfather once again.
The brief silence after his words had not been unwelcome. Elmshadow so rarely gave words of praise with no strings attached, no criticism to follow. It had been a curse laid upon him by his own father. He appreciated in hindsight his father’s rigid standards. It was what drove Elmshadow to continue pursuing greater heights, to continue growing upwards, but he’d found himself chasing that approval long after his father had died. He knew it had made him into the cat he was now, a loyal Shadowclanner serving his duty in healing his clanmates. But it’d also left him with so much growing in so many other areas of his life that had been neglected growing up. He recognized the importance of pushing hard but then also granting that recognition so the next generations would not be left chasing ghosts. He was sure Silverlark had never truly chased his approval but he was just as sure that Sunsetthorn had, and that he had let her down. It was Goldenstep and her daughters that had opened the glaring truth that he had so much growing left to do but changing those habits had been a near impossible feat, though the excuse hardly gave him any solace under the weight of the family he’d allowed, rather forced, to crumbled around him. And Silverlark was simply a product of exactly that. So while the disdain the new warrior had always rather blatantly shown towards him had been completely personal, Elmshadow had never held it against the young tom, it was simply a fact of the environment that had developed. All the same, he knew his words would catch Silverlark by surprise, because he knew how he’d feel if ever he’d heard those words he’d been chasing from his father. It was different, sure, Elmshadow had wanted to hear those words, pursued them. Silverlark, he was sure, never expected them, and quite frankly, Elmshadow wasn’t sure in the beginning if he’d ever grant them, but here he was. He only wished now he’d left less unsaid with his grandson’s mother.
He nodded, giving Silverlark little direct attention, at the curt gratitude. He had to admire how far the young warrior had come from the outspoken kit he’d started as to the professional and well-spoken warrior, curbing his emotional outbursts for the good of the clan. He was exactly the warrior Elmshadow expected of all Shadowclanners, of which there’d been too few recently. If hating him was part of the journey to bring Shadowclan a warrior such as that, Elmshadow would accept that role as readily as he’d accepted the role of medicine cat Dawnstar had entrusted him with. Then he finished wrapping the wounded shoulder, its layer of marigold applied, with the cobwebs and stepped back. ”Rest it. Your warrior duties can wait a few days. But it should heal just fine over the next week. Come back if it grows worse or begins to smell.”
Quote:
Originally Posted by FeurSturm
Shadowlight
(Female-She/Her)
(13 moons)
Shadowlight poked her head into the den. "E-Elmshadow?" she said quietly. "I was wondering if you needed any herbs? Dreamingbloom and I can gather them if you tell me what they look like." Internally, she shuddered with excitement. The medicine den! I could live in here, I like it so much.
DreamingBloom "Yes, we want to help." DreamingBloom said, sitting next to Shadowlight. (Short post. Sorry) @Pitou
It’d been a long night followed by a longer day. He’d hoped to have gotten some sleep the previous night but the ancestors, as they were wont to do, knew his intentions and intervened. He sighed moving back into camp. Immediate inspection was promising, things hadn’t seemed to have fallen apart completely. Things had been decently quiet since the battle with the foxes. His dark eyes moved instinctively towards his den noticing just in time as two of the younger warriors were making their way in. He blinked slowly and redirected his path towards the medicine den and moved in confidently. His green eyes switched to the two as he moved past them, hardly hearing of their desire to ”help”. He snorted quietly. [B]”I don’t recall inviting you. Unless Starclan or the Dark Forest made you medicine cat without my knowledge, this is still my den. Leave, before I decide allowing your ears to stay intact is too merciful.”[B] He’d slowed his walk to address the warriors, in so much as he had, but picked up his pace again when he’d finished, turning his back on any attempt for a conversation. When it came down to it, he preferred having willing volunteers for the herb patrols, they tended to be less of a battle to ensure they were completed, so he’d likely throw the pair in his next patrols, but the long walk, mental strain, and lack of sleep left little desire in the tom for niceties, or dealing with entitled warriors guising their impositions as ”help”.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Cinnamon~
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Ashkit
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Ashkit shyly entered the medicine den, limping on three paws. The fourth one, which she was holding up, had a long thorn stuck quite deep in it. The thorn was more like an excuse to talk with the medicine cat. She knew what she needed to use to heal her wound: marigold or... something with bell in it, she believed.
"Um... Elmshadow?" she asked thinly, looking for the medicine.
He looked up from his work beside the small stream, lifting out the last bit of stinging nettle he'd been soaking and turned to look at the kit limping into his den. He stood and took in the sight quickly, his eyes given enough clues as to where to look immediately. "What did you do to your paw? Take a seat, let me look at it."
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Active Purrks Elmshadow - The Collector Cougarivy - Beefed Up Sunsetpaw - Biligual, Flock Together:Tier 2
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Last edited by Pitou; September 24th, 2023 at 10:30 PM.
"I didn't see her eat anything." Mapleshade meows. She crouches beside her daughter. "Shadowkit? Did you eat anything you shouldn't have?"
Shadowkit drinking eating the water and peered up at the medicine cat and her mom. "No, I~" she pauses, whimpering as a cramp ran through her belly. "I found a dead sparrow in the brambles yesterday and wanted to try it." she whimpers.
So much was happening at once. So much the little newborn could not, and would not, keep up, even if she tried. Her senses were still dull, too dull to comprehend the pure panic and chaos around her and even so she could instinctively feel her body tense up against the warmth of her mother’s fur as sounds only grew more hasty.
But, and all too soon, that warmth was ripped away. The soft fur she’d been leaning up against jerked away and the newborn fell to the ground (or at least, as much falling as a little one that can’t even properly sit up could do). But regardless, almost instantly, she was back to being cold and… Afraid. Fear. Newborn and her first senses were fear.
She mewled in complaint, tiny and trembly paws reaching through the damp grass to try and find the warmth once more when she felt something gently clamp around her the soft fur on her neck. A loud squeal sounded and the black and white kitten curled in on herself as she dangled in the chilly air, still calling back for mother’s warmth.
It felt like she’d been dangling there for an eternity. By the time they reached the medicine cat’s den the kit was already trembling and her mews had largely ceased, too occupied by the coldness that had enveloped her small body as she tried to keep warm. Only occasional complaints sounded, though they were soft and weak.
Though the air shifted, it grew ever so slightly warmer and the kitten mewled as they entered the den. Although she saw none, the nothingness disappeared beneath her as she was set to the ground, her little baby scrunch disappearing as she lay there sprawled out on the floor, little mewls escaping her once mire.
One lick, two lick, up against the order of her already messy fur it warmed the cold kitten slightly. Her paws tingled but her attention was soon distracted when the familiar scent, now far more easily discernable with most of the blood no longer overwhelming her senses, reappeared.
It was close, oh so close, the warmth and conform she yearned for. The warmth and comfort she was supposed to know. The currently nameless kitten edged closer, quickly finding the soft and warm fur that she’d once been pressed up against, once more enveloping herself in it. The fear the kitten had felt faded as she slowly warmed up; the otherwise perfectly healthy little one evidently calming as distraught complaints had turned into small calls for attention and comfort, only seeking Larkfire’s presence and warmth, snuggling closer as she seemingly did the same.
| Silverlark |
Shadow Fiend - Inactive | Just a Scratch - Inactive | Beefed Up [Tier 3] - Inactive
Twitching his ear, Silverlark listened to the dark medicine cat, silently letting him know he'd heard. The less he had to talk to his grandfather, the better... yet that did not excuse rudeness when he was being healed. That would place him in the same category as his former mentor, and as much as he loathed the medicine cat, he would not turn into another cat that had his equal ire for... different yet eerily similar reasons. Huh... it seemed that at every turn he took, the toms in his life were just... disappointments. Branchfire had never been a relevant presence in his life, with the young warrior only appreciating the fact that he seemed to make mum happy. Shadowfur was gone. Abandoned him on their last outing and was never heard from again. Shadefrost was just a bully who promptly ignored him and left him to his own devices shortly after being assigned his mentor, their interactions being nothing more than the black furred tom's teasing of his name and putting everyone in danger midbattle, with never a single lesson given in all the moons they were stuck together. The fiend hadn't so much as looked at him during his ceremony. Frankly, the muscular tom wouldn't have been surprised if his former mentor had even forgotten he was supposed to have been teaching him at all.
When it was all said and done... When everything was really accounted for, Elmshadow was almost the least of the disappointments to have crossed through the silver throated warrior's life. He couldn't forgive him. His mum had obviously hated the tom for a reason, and nothing he had seen save for this moment ever showed the medicine cat cared. Yet he couldn't help but wonder for a single moment if he would have ended up the same if their circumstances had been similar. Truthfully, what did he know of his grandfather, other than he was a terrible father - a trait that Branchfire shared - and an equal grandfather? Would the young tom have been similar, had he not had Sunsetthorn in his life? It was a horrible thought, and not one he wished to dwell in any longer than he had to, thank you very much.
Instead, he nodded. It was curt. Professional. The motion clearly representing a cat who wanted to get out of here. "Will do," he stated, turning around, intent on heading off before taking a small pause, one rounded ear twitching slightly before he added, "Thanks... again," before taking his leave, broad shoulders making their way through the cave's entrance.
Shadow Fiend: Inactive | Beefed Up (T2)
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Darkfall, thankful for Elmshadow’s lack of questioning and seemingly understanding what he and Flowerpaw said, nodded along with his instructions. Darkfall gently grabbed Larkfire by the scruff of her neck before moving her a little bit and then repositioning her young kit so that Flowerpaw would have room for making a nest. Goodness gracious he was stressing out. Why was it that Larkfire was so insistent on stressing him out with every turn? First it was the fact that she had actually left the camp on her own for a border patrol, then she had her kits out in the middle of no where, and THEN she had the audacity to nearly die on him. Gosh she could be so frustrating sometimes. He prayed that even though she was talking all kinds of nonsense right now, she would eat the herbs that the medicine cat offered her. ”Alright Larkfire, make sure you eat all the herbs Elmshadow is giving you,” he called to the younger enforcer softly. The newest of the enforcers then turned his blue gaze to Elmshadow and quirked an eyebrow inquisitively. ”Will she be alright?” he asked, unable to keep the worry out of his voice.
Flowerpaw quickly found a nest, then scampered out to scoop up all the feathers she had gathered from her own nest and dumped them into the nest, spreading them out so the nest was extra comfy. Anything for her kin. Her sister and niece would have the comfiest nest for their recovery. Flowerpaw gently lay the dead tom-kit in a spare nest for the time being, wanting to be respectful of the deceased tom and not distress her poor sister.
[ @Orchid @Pitou @Dark - sorry so short, wanted to get this out]
Re: ShadowClan Medicine Cat's Den
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