[Freesia]

Originally Posted by RedHead

Stupid wounds. Stupid battle. Stupid mangy mouse-brained cat who doesn't know how to clean his own claws... Cherrybubble was not in a good mood. During the most recent battle, she had received multiple additions to her already large collection of scars. And they weren’t small and simple. No, they were quite large, with a few that could be serious. But of course Cherrybubble slunk away when everyone else was getting treated by the medicine cat. She was strong, and independent, she could handle herself. But, curse her horrible luck, one of the acts she had battled, a large burly tom, did not have clean claws when he gouged them into her fur. So instead of having simple, quickly healing wounds like usual, two of her larger ones had grown infected. This had simply been a bother of her, as she could not perform her regular warrior duties efficiently. And cats had started to take notice. The infections had grown worse, and a certain cat had decided to take matters into her own paws.
So now here Cherrybubble was, having been forced into the medicine den by Passionstar’s mother, Springingsky. Ever since her and Passion had become best friends, Springingsky had been like a second mom to her. And Cherrybubble adored the older feline, who was just as frisky and hard-headed as she was. But, also like her, she was ridiculously stubborn. She had achieved a motherly stubbornness level that Cherrybubble had quickly learned couldn’t be overcome.
So, with messy white and black fur, yet green eyes still shining with her ever burning fire, Cherrybubble made her way into the medicine’s den. She sat down with a wince, the larger laceration on her back glaring up in pain as she did so. Her eyes scanned the dim den, looking for any sign of Tallmarsh, the Thunderclan medicine cat. She would like to be out of here as soon as possible. The space was making her claustrophobia act up, and she wasn’t too particular fond of the smell either.

@Delta
[shes being salty watch out]

((lol perfect, tall is salty too))

Why couldn't they have just not fought? Sure, it was fun being able to fight again, but now it seemed like Tallmarsh's den was never empty. There were always cats in her den wanting to be healed as if she could just tap there wounds with her magic healing stick and have all their injuries disappear. Currently the medicine cat was pouting in her nest at the very back of the den. Normally she would be sorting herbs or trying to memorize their names and uses since there was no one in need of healing, but Tallmarsh was tired of that. And she was not going to go outside and risk forced conversation and a messy pelt. She was fine sitting in her nest, pretending to sleep and wondering why she'd even agreed to this position in the first place. There was rustling at the entrance, and with it the scents of an unfamiliar cat, open wounds, and infection. Great. For now, the medicine cat was pretty much concealed from view with her dark pelt blending into the shadows, but she couldn't stay hidden forever. It was her duty to help her Clanmates, after all. Not bothering to open her eyes or move from her position, she grumbled, "So, what's wrong with you?"