| Lightningstorm |
Flock Together [Tier 3] - Inactive | Mind Reader - Active
Laying in her empty den, Lightningstorm's tail twitched, her overly alert nerves frayed from lack of sleep. The clan herb stores were lacking. Again. Especially for the trouble she expected to be receiving sooner rather than later. But what could she do? Outside of no longer relying on any cats... what else did she have left but to accept the fact that most WindClanners could not be arsed with the upkeep of the herb stores.
No. Not just the herb stores. The prey pile tended to be lacking on most days too. Even she had been sent out on hunting patrols, if only to keep the stocks fresh. Stocks she never touched. Because she wasn't a member of the star forsaken clan. She had received the message clearly, and so she hunted for herself. Firestorm didn't like that on most days, but the queen was no longer here with her to state much about it. The medicine cat had seen to it that her mate moved to the nursery. It would do her well, as well as their kits. They deserved to be around many kits their own age. To make friends. To not be associated with the likes of her.
The musky smell hit her before anything else, raising her hackles even as the metallic scent of blood joined it. Almond shaped eyes narrowed, Lightningstorm unsheathed her claws by instinct, knowing full well that if one of those minks had somehow made it to her den, she was as good as dead. At least the scent was easy enough to recognize. Her patients had been marinated in the stench the past few times she'd had emergencies. Taking a step forward, the healer began imagining ways out. Scenarios in which she could survive long enough to warn the clan of the intruder. Assuming of course that the clan hadn't tossed the creature in here themselves to end her. She could imagine no one would take the blame. Why would they? Only medicine cats were to be held to lofty standards of excellence. Warriors could lead infinite cats to their demise in comparison and never be seen as anything other than the tragic hero who had at least managed to survive when odds had been against them.
The voice catching her off guard, she found herself quirking a brow, trying to make sense of the situation. There was no urgency behind the call. No sounds of hissing or spitting to indicate a battle. Was she being led to a trap? She could recognize the voice, in any case. Just barely. But then, Bravebird rarely visited her in her more eloquent of times. Curiosity driving her forward, the spotted molly approached, cautious with every taken step.
Lightningstorm wasn't certain what she had been expecting. A lynx point with a mink at her feet and herbs in her maw had... admittedly not been it. Instinctually, she assessed the older she-cat, making certain that there were no wounds. That the stench of blood belonged not to her, but the obviously dead critter at her paws. Slowly her fur smoothed out, the look of suspicion turning into a deadpanned stare as she found herself remembering the last time the warrior had brought herbs accompanied with signs of the battle that had somehow been met while gathering said blossoms. The healer used to tell her littermate - the one who claimed to be oh so courageous - that bravery was simply a lack of understanding of just how much of a feather-brain he was being when getting into dangerous situations. She couldn't help but feel this feline before her now reinforced that young, kittenish view of the world she'd once had quite nicely.
"Do you always bring souvenirs from your herb collecting or do you need my professional diagnosis on your friend's health?" the calico asked, her lip curling into a cheeky smirk despite herself, annoying others her instant reaction to situations in which she would otherwise simply stay awaiting an explanation that might never be given in the first place.
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taillow [Bravebird]