[poor unfortunate souls] tawnygaze

With the arrival of new leaf came a much need sense of relief. While illness like green cough were still possible, the chance of a cat falling prey to such a dreaded sickness. Still, that was no reason for a medicine cat to become lax in the gathering of herbs and roots, and Tawnygaze was loath to be caught unprepared. So it was that daylight found her wandering the forests of Skyclan territory on the hunt to restore some of her reserves which had long been left wanting in the frigid chill of the leaf bare moons. Everything need rest and rebirth and the flora of the forest was no different, the she-cat was just grateful that it hadn’t interfered with her ability to perform her duties. Juniperjaw had been wise enough to have her stock up on supplies before the true cold had set in, so her stores had lasted through the snowy days. Without her old mentor to guide her, though, this would be Tawnygaze’s first attempt at new leaf restocking and determination would mark her efforts to ensure she was plenty prepared for anything fate might throw her way.

Though it might have been a valuable day to spend leading her young apprentice through the territory, instructing her on the many different herbs, roots, and other items that help in the art of healing, the gentle warmth of the afternoon had encouraged her to leave the young she-cat to her own devices. There would be plenty of time later to show the she-cat such information, but this day was special. This was the sort of day meant to be spent with friends and family.

Without warning, her thoughts flashed to Mapleclaw. In the back of her mind she wondered what her sister was doing, and if she was enjoying this day as much as Tawnygaze was. However, any thoughts of her sister were darkened with the hard truth that blood was all that remained to tie them together; any bonds of affection or trust had long since shriveled and faded into dust since their kithood. Too bitter was the other fae to care for another cat, especially one that shared any relation to the father that had sealed their fate with his infidelity to their birth mother. ’Applefur… How am I supposed to help her? How can I bring her away from her own darkness when she won’t even allow me near enough to say a short greeting?’ Tawnygaze preyed silently to her dam, knowing sadly that there would be no answer from the heavenly queen. Applefur had passed into Starclan in the birthing of her only litter, and her kits had been left to be raised by another. Though she had appeared to her more spiritual daughter in visions induced by the moonstone, or in dreams to remind her that her true path had been one of healing, she thus far failed to make any other sort of visits. Instead leaving her daughters to sort their own way, and mend their broken hearts through their own strength and will.

Tawnygaze sighed, pausing in her wanderings to gather herself. The ginger gradient tabby shook out her thick pelt, the silken smoothness ruffling in animation before laying against her flesh once more. ”Focus, Tawnygaze. You’re not just out for some afternoon stroll.” The medicine cat reminded herself aloud, taking a few deep breaths before continuing on.

Even though her pace was slowed by her hopping sort of gait, Tawnygaze was still able to cover a considerable amount of ground in a day and she had every intention of scouring the territory to check each and every growth of herbs and roots that might serve a purpose in her work. She vividly recalled the many locations Juniperjaw had shown her or informed her of, and she wanted to travel by all of them to ensure the knowledge was not lost with time. Already she had come across a nice bunching of Feverfew – the tangy scented bush having bloomed vibrantly with the new leaf rains, and she had gathered a fair amount of its greenery to carry along with her until she would return to camp. Though now that she thought about it, perhaps she might need to make multiple trips to ensure she was able to gather a fair amount of the herbs she needed most. There were a pawful of other items that had earned priority at the top of her little shopping list, and with the quantity of just the one herb she had gathered so far she was nearing the maximum limit of what her jaws could hold. She would just have to hope the next herb she came upon was something she needed relatively little of.

Tawnygaze’s day might have passed in relative tranquility, her mind occupied with the task at hand rather than left to wonder in dismayed persistence what she might do to help her troubled sister; however, it seemed Starclan had other designs for her. A resounding *crack* was what snapped her attention from the alluring scent of catmint – of which her stores were running embarrassingly low after the moons of leaf bare – and the abrupt break of her tranquil silence had almost frightened the already flighty she-cat out of her skin. As it was, the fae flung herself upon the ground in a fearful crouch, mindlessly crunching the stems of Feverfew in her mouth in her haste to hide her brightly hued fur from what might be undesirable attention. Even as her belly met the loamy soil, a muted thump entered her ears to inform her that whatever had broken the limb had found an untimely meeting with the dirt.

Feeling a bit at odds with herself, Tawnygaze remained rooted in place as calls of alarm sprang up from all around her. The shriek of birds and the angry chittering of squirrels informing each other of an intrusion flooded the air, making it difficult to find any other sound of movement beneath the cacophonous chorus. Fear slowly began to creep upon her, threatening her with warnings of what might be lurking just beyond her sight and visions of dark hearted rogues lurked within the recesses of her mind to give reason to that fear. Perhaps it might be wiser to return to camp a bit early… ’You can’t just leave! What if it’s a cat that needs your help? What if they’re hurt or worse?!’ A voice fretted in her mind, even her thoughts wavering with timid inclination. The voice was right – her voice was right – she couldn’t just leave if there was a cat in need of her help. But what could she do as unprepared as she was? She had no herbs to bind wounds or stop bleeding. All she had was a battered mouthful of Feverfew, and that would have little use against the plague of a broken bone. ’Still…’ Responsibility nagged petulantly, refusing her peace until she relented. She was a medicine cat, and that meant she couldn’t stand idly by when a cat was suffering; ’Regardless of whether it may or may not be a trap…’

Her mind made up, Tawnygaze snuck toward the sound with delicate secrecy; she wanted to find the cat in question before they had a chance to find her – alone and vulnerable as she was. Thankfully, her anxiety turned out to be for naught, as when she found the hapless feline it was none other than one of her own clanmates, and one she already saw far too often.

”Deertail!” Tawnygaze gasped, dropping her herbs as the tom’s name escaped on a shocked breath of disbelief and concern. She rushed to his side, sniffing him in brief snuffs of air to try and ascertain whether there were any signs of sickness or blood. The feverish smog of illness didn’t cling to his bracken colored pelt, and thank Starclan there were no hints of blood to touch her pink nostrils. However, the tom was certainly a bit worse for wear, and that his unmoving state gave Tawnygaze no reason to relax. ”Deertail!” The she-cat spoke his name again, a note of desperation leaking into the airy tones of her vocalizing. ”Deertail can you hear me?” Before he could move and potentially injure himself further than he already might have, the ex warrior placed a feather light paw upon his spine, moving it along the vital chord to ensure there were no breaks or heated signs of inflammation. He seemed to stir at the contact, and the she-cat retracted her touch as if he had hissed at her, feeling her cheeks warm with a shy sort of guilt as if she had been caught doing something dishonorable. ”Deertail can you hear me? Are you alright?” Tawnygaze blurted, a flurry of fretted questions. ”What happened?”

Immediately, Tawnygaze regretted her decision to touch him; instinct demanding a defensive response from the tom, the act of which forcing a haggard cough from the wounded cat. Biting the inside of her cheek in dismay, the she-cat sprang to his head to find ruby droplets bedazzling his frosted point of his muzzle along with the leaves that had joined him in his fall. Not good. Not good at all. The blood could be a sign of any assortment of things from as simple as a mouth wound, to as deadly as a punctured lung. The previous she could handle, the latter… Well, she just hoped he would be able to get some poppyseeds down before he realized the true amount of pain.

Movement startled her away from her thoughts, and Tawnygaze leaned closer to him worriedly, her tail flicking back and forth in heightened emotion. Slowly his lids pried themselves apart, his usually warm gaze unfocused and hazy. ’He hit his head.’ The diagnoses came in an instant, and along with a deeply rooted fear. It was rare, but there were stories of cats who had received hard enough hits to their head that something broke within, not there skull but something just as valuable. Those cats often didn’t last long, and Tawnygaze desperately hoped for the sake of her friend that his little tumble wouldn’t cost him his life. Still, there was the undeniable light of consciousness returning to his honeyed gaze, and the medicine cat took that as a good sign. At least in some way he was coming back.

”I…think I fell.” ’Blessed Starclan- Of course you fell!’ A voice raged in her head, and the she-cat frowned like a mother whose kit had just told her the most obvious truth in the world. Did he think she was stupid or something that she couldn’t tell he had fallen? She wanted to know why he had fallen. Had something – ’Or somecat…’ – knocked him from the trees? The trees where she knew he was more at home in on solid ground? Suddenly paranoid for their safety the orange gradient tabby cast her eyes upward, peering into the branches for any sign of company. A squirrel paused in its tree top race to look at her and chitter an angry warning, but aside from the small rodent she could find nothing else. Had Deertail truly fallen?

His voice, as soft as a feather settling upon the surface of a pool, claimed her full attention once more, and worry filled eyes returned to her clanmate. ”I think…I bit my tongue.” Sweet relief flooded her though the fae fought hard against the tide. Just because he bit his tongue didn’t mean the blood hadn’t come from another, more severe, injury. The brown hued tom wasn’t out of the woods just yet. Before she could warn him not to move around too much just yet, Deertail tried to turn his head and only succeeded in finding a brilliant ray of sunlight. Tawnygaze winced along with him, a groan leaving his lips as he settled back against the earth.

”Easy, don’t try to move around just yet, okay?” Tawnygaze breathed in a whisper, knowing he would respond better to softer stimuli. Juniperjaw had instructed her on how to treat head trauma, and she knew some of the symptoms included lack of focus in their eyes, aversion to bright lights, and in some cases even voices could be an irritant. In an attempt to keep from causing him any further pain, she would give her voice only the necessary volume to be heard. ”I know you’re in pain, Deertail, but I need you to think and tell me where you’re feeling the most pain if you can. Is it hard to breathe at all? Do your lungs feel heavy?”

As she spoke, the fae would attempt to slide a feather weight paw down one foreleg and then the other to check for any breaks of inflammation there. Hopefully his reaction wouldn’t be as drastic as it had been the last time she dared touch him, but she couldn’t let her own anxiety hold her back from doing her job. She was the medicine cat, and it was her responsibility to take care of her clan the way only she knew how.