Breeze of Leaf-fall (o)

[• sparrowpaw •]

A cold breeze whisked through Sparrowpaw's fur and caused him to shudder and recoil in response, desperate to stay warm. He curled his body up tightly, tail curled around him like a grey, furry snake. Eventually he found a position that satisfied him, but this was only to be spoiled by a second breeze, this time more ferocious. The medicine cat apprentice's eyes opened reluctantly and his face was pulled into one that spoke of agitation; eyes narrowed, ears back and nose wrinkled up in disgust. Was a peaceful rest really too much to ask for? He'd been working hard to memorize the uses of herbs, and absorbed most information like a sponge. And now he felt the need to reward himself with a well-earned nap, the weather turned on him and caressed his body with icy, treacherous winds to keep him awake. Great. Just great. Well, he couldn't sleep like this.

Sparrowpaw hauled himself up and shook himself awake. Despite his efforts, his eyes were still sunken with a lazy droop. Although it wasn't atypical for him to look so tired and bored, and most cats who knew what the young medicine cat trainee was like wouldn't notice anything different about him. But he could feel the difference, and the difference slurred his thoughts and made his paw-steps heavy. He trailed out of the den and into the open WindClan camp. The same sights and smells that welcomed him every day embraced him with familiarity. Moorlands all around, and a clear view of the sky, the small cat felt as free as a bird. He extended his forelegs, making a downwards arc of his spine, and stretched. Now he felt a little more awake, but still disappointed he couldn't have gotten any sleep.

His murky eyes reflected his apathy. Although beneath the lazy outer shell of his personality was intelligence and thoughts that should have belonged to a cat far older than himself. This was also seen in his eyes, they had a trace of wisdom, sort of like the eyes of an elder. And with these eyes he surveyed his surroundings disinterestedly. It was a bit of a last resort, looking around at all the cats attending to their daily duties like this. There was nothing else to do that didn't require too much effort, and Sparrowpaw liked to avoid mildly laborious tasks as often as possible. And right now he wasn't being monitored by anybody, so he had the freedom to spend his time however he wanted. He inhaled and exhaled in a satisfied sigh, and the chilly leaf-fall air made his throat feel dry. But this coldness could barely match with the weather to be expected of the oncoming leafbare.

That sparked a bit of curiosity and genuine interest in Sparrowpaw, something fairly rare to arouse. He had not yet lived to see a leafbare, and from what he heard, it sounded like a brutal season. White grounds, scarce prey. It sounded like it would take a lot of work to survive, and with the ferocious condition of the weather during that time of year, cats were more prone to illnesses. In a way, this frightened Sparrowpaw a little, with natural concern for his Clanmates' well-being combined with his slight fear of having a lot of responsibility. He wasn't unconfident of his abilities as an aspiring medicine cat; in fact, it was quite the contrary, but he was a little worried that his inexperience would cause him to mess up. But another emotion contrasted his fear and anxiety; a sort of rippling anticipation. He was excited to learn how to deal with new cases, new herbs. He enjoyed his medicine cat training, and despite all of the work required to be successful, he generally didn't cringe at the sound of training (unless it was combat, of course).

Absorbed deep in thought, the young tom sat near the entrance to the medicine cat den, looking a little distant, absent and tired. He was quite comfortable like this, though, he enjoyed being inside his own head almost as much as he enjoyed sleeping.

[Snowstar]

I simply must go, but baby it's cold outside…

“Ow…Ow…” Snowfur tried to shake the thorn from her paw, but it was wedged in tight, and try as she might, she’d been unable to pull it out on her own. She’d been hunting near the border when she’d stepped on a bramble, which had driven a thorn straight into the softest, most tender part of her paw. The tips of her white fur was stained crimson with the small bit of blood from the wound, and her pink pads were swollen and inflamed, looking about as painful as they felt.

She paused on her way back to camp to lick at her aching paw, but even then, there was no relief. Thank goodness, at least, for Sparrowpaw, she thought. Even if his mentor his out right now, he’ll be able to get this thorn out. She had utter faith in the young Medicine cat apprentice. While he seemed almost lazy and apathetic at times, she knew that beneath that outer exterior lay a dedicated and committed medicine cat in training. The sleek-furred she-cat slipped into camp without much of a fuss, limping ever so slightly on one foot. She was somewhat glad she was able to bypass the other cats in her clan; she didn’t necessarily want to cause a fuss, and to have anyone fawning or concerned over her paw was only going to embarrass her.

She was never comfortable being looked after, even when she was an apprentice. She’d gotten hurt often enough, as most apprentices were wont to do, and her mother, at that time, had always fussed and fretted (not to mention Milkwhisker; her sister could be worse than the queen). It embarrassed Snowfur all the way down to the tip of her tail, and since then, she’d done her best to hide the occasional wrenched shoulder, or sore pad. It probably wasn’t the healthiest or most intelligent of strategies, but it was a strategy nonetheless. The slender she-cat crept towards the medicine cat den, her ears drooping with relief when she noticed that Sparrowpaw was sitting just outside of it, alone as usual; he seemed lost in though, and Snowfur chuckled as she limped over to him.

“Sparrowpaw,” she mewed, touching his shoulder with the tip of her tail as she passed beside him and sat down in front. “Good morning.” She twitched her whiskers wryly, wondering if the young tom had just woken up; he looked a little sleep bedraggled and bleary-eyed. Snowfur had left her den earlier than most, before the dawn patrol had even left, to go hunting. She wasn’t scheduled for patrol, so doing a bit of solo hunting in lieu of sleeping through the morning had sounded like a good idea. Until the thorn, of course. “Did you sleep well?” she asked conversationally, wondering if, by his appearance, he slept at all.

“Listen, I was out hunting this morning, and I…stepped on a thorn.” She winced at how pathetic it sounded; thorns shouldn’t even be a bother to her. She should’ve been able to pick it out herself and keep going, but she’d been forced back to camp before the dawn patrol had even managed to make all their rounds. “It hurts and it’s a bit deep. I tried to pull it out, but I couldn’t. Do you think you could help me with it?” She held out said paw, uncurling it from her chest tentatively to show him the wound. “I apologize if I’m disturbing you; most of the time, I don’t bother with such trivial things, but…I can’t very well walk around with a thorn stuck in there forever, can I?” she mewed, sounding half annoyed and half amused at the idea.

(Ooc: Figured it'd be easier to post here instead of starting another thread. ^_^)

…The answer is no, but baby it's cold outside.

[• sparrowpaw •]

Sparrowpaw hadn't initially noticed the lean, white she-cat approach until she touched his shoulder with the tip of her tail, snapping him back into the present time and out of the train of thought he had submerged himself into. She greeted him in a friendly manner, but Sparrowpaw saw in her eyes that she had seen by his appearance that he had only recently woken. He wasn't bothered by this in the slightest. Instead he noticed the small stains of blood surrounding her paw. As a medicine cat, he had grown quite perceptive and skilled at noticing when something was wrong with another cat. You had to develop a skill like that, because so many warriors were too caught up in their own pride to admit their injuries.

'Good morning, Snowfur,' meowed the apprentice, returning his focus to her face politely. The side of his mouth was tugged into a sarcastic half-smile. 'Splendidly,' he said in response to her question, but the lie was purposefully blatant. As if to highlight the untruthfulness of his reply, he lifted his paw and groomed back some of the messy fur around his face. Now looking a little more presentable, he shifted his position to one that was a little more comfortable and listened as Snowfur explained her unfortunate encounter with a thorn. She seemed a bit embarrassed at how it sounded, but he understood that it was more painful than it seemed.

She showed him her sore paw. She was correct, it was wedged quite deeply. He had seen her wince self-consciously as she had explained to the young medicine cat how she had gotten the thorn stuck in her paw in the first place, so he wondered if she had tried to conceal the pain and the injury from the other cats when she had journeyed back from the hunt. If she had, it certainly wouldn't have helped, but Sparrowpaw knew many cats that would have done the same. It was the easiest way to avoid humiliation and rude sneers from other warriors. Oh well, the tom composed his straying thoughts and narrowed his eyes as he observed the thorn. 'Okay, it's important you stay still now.' He said in a tone that didn't seem to belong to the lazy, disinterested apprentice that he had developed a reputation as.

He closed his teeth around the thorn and pulled. It was much easier for another cat to pull a thorn out of your paw; when you were the one taking it out, it was easy to be reluctant in case of pain. His efforts proved successful and the thorn did come out, but the paw was bleeding. 'Lick the wound,' he addressed Snowfur firmly. 'Are you in much pain?' He asked, elements of his inexperience lighting up his eyes. He was unsure if poppy seeds were necessary right now, and felt an unsettled feeling throb in the pit of his chest. He knew that he would have to learn to do things by himself, though, if he were to become the WindClan medicine cat, and he was glad for this sort of experience. Usually the pain would be sharp for a moment and fade quite quickly, so he didn't think that would be necessary. Although, since the thorn had been wedged quite deeply, he was quite certain that he'd need some marigold to prevent infection, and began to turn towards the den, ready to retrieve the necessary herbs.

OOC: Good idea, and sorry for lateness, my laptop is broken so I'm sharing my mum's XD she rarely gives me the chance to check anything though.

[Snowstar]

I simply must go, but baby it's cold outside…

((OOC: Oh SNAP! I am SO sorry. I could’ve swore it said ‘Snowfur’ instead of ‘Sparrowpaw’ for the last poster. I am so, so sorry for the latee reply. Feel free to smack me now, kthnx. ))

Snowfur was inwardly pleased at Sparrowpaw’s ability to stay calm. He might be lazy and seem somewhat apathetic, but he was anything but when it came down to business. She twitched her tail in faint amusement, but the next second, it curled up in surprise and a sharp hiss escaped her mouth. “Yowch,” she grumbled, inspecting her paw closely with bright, annoyed blue eyes. “That was more painful than being stuck in there.” She sounded grumpy, but when she glanced up at him, her eyes were bright with relief. “It’s already feeling much better, though,” she assured, careful not to tread on the apprentice’s feelings; she knew how touchy they could be about learning things and doing their duty.

She didn’t know if medicine cat apprentices were any different than regular apprentices but she imagined they were all much the same. She lifted her raw and throbbing paw and licked it cle3an, careful not to aggravate the wound as she gave it a little shake. “Not much pain,” she grunted, holding her paw out in front of her and waving it with a smile. “But it’ll probably smart for a few days when I’m out on patrol and hunting and-” She paused, her eyes growing wide. “It won’t get infected if I go out on patrol, will it? What if I step on another one?” That wasn’t something she’d thought about before; she’d definitely avoid that patch of moorland from now on. She hated anything that got in the way of her ability to use her feet or legs and run; probably one of the reasons she’d never taken a mate or had kits, in the long run.

Her little pink nose twitched as she stood on three legs, wiggling forward after Sparrowpaw and sounding faintly worried. “I can’t skip out on patrols; I refuse to stay in the warrior’s den. If I have to stay in camp, then I want to do something productive.” She disliked, above all else, being thought of as lazy, or being unable to do anything. She was already itching to get back out and hunt. “Sparrowpaw,” she groused as he turned away from her, her injured paw darting out to lightly tap his tail. “Sparrowpaw, please tell me I won’t be stuck here in camp.” Now she looked visibly worried, her blue eyes stretched wide and pink ears standing at attention. She sounded like an anxious apprentice, hoping to get out and do something so as not to feel like a helpless kit.

…The answer is no, but baby it's cold outside.