Post by Zaperex on Dec 6, 2018 5:14:18 GMT
Brookpaw
WillowClan | Female | 9 Moons
New-leaf returned more than just prey to the land. All over WillowClan, plants rose from their lengthy rest, fresh buds, shoots, and sprouts emerging everywhere one looked. Brookpaw was in awe at the changing landscape, her paws all but moving on their own as she took it in. Only for a minute though, before she scolded herself for her distraction. They had a job to do. To bring her focus back, she returned to today's extensive list of herbs to collect, reciting them in her head. More catmint, of course, but also coltsfoot, marigold, tansy, borage, poppy seeds... This would be one of many trips to collect herbs this season, but the replenishing of their stores after leaf-bare would take both of them to carry back.
It wasn't the most exciting work, but Brookpaw didn't mind. The increasingly harsh rationing of medicines as stocks dwindled had been one of many sources of stress. Finally being able to do something about it made her feel light as a feather. She trailed behind Ashcloud, having yet to memorize all the places to find these herbs. She'd get those down soon enough. That was the easiest part of her training; all you had to do was keep repeating details until they were carved into your brain. Much easier than working with patients and dealing with puke and blood and talking to people.
She had never asked Ashcloud about the details, but she had long wondered why StarClan had picked her to be his apprentice. It definitely hadn't been due to a natural affinity for it. In the beginning, she could hardly even stand the scents of some of the stronger smelling herbs. She had been useless. It had all been so overwhelming, and the only way she had pushed through it was because the fear of disappointing everyone was worse. But that wasn't the whole story. Even before then, as a four or five moon old kit, Brookpaw had known, looking at the rest of her family, that she wasn't cut out for greatness. She couldn't live up to being a royal, let alone being a medicine cat. But that was what she would be, and the added pressure had been enough for her to admit that little Brook-kit was too weak to survive in this world. Brookpaw would have to be someone else. It was slow progress, but one day, Brookpaw would become someone who was strong.
The tantalizing scent of catmint hit the roof of Brookpaw's mouth. They came to a stop; Brookpaw followed Ashcloud's line of sight to the source. Small, tender leaves grew in an irregularly shaped patch, and the kitten part of Brookpaw wanted to dive into it. She swallowed. "Is this all of it? How much can we take?" she asked Ashcloud. There was probably enough to replenish their stores to full, but then what? How long would it take to grow back?
It wasn't the most exciting work, but Brookpaw didn't mind. The increasingly harsh rationing of medicines as stocks dwindled had been one of many sources of stress. Finally being able to do something about it made her feel light as a feather. She trailed behind Ashcloud, having yet to memorize all the places to find these herbs. She'd get those down soon enough. That was the easiest part of her training; all you had to do was keep repeating details until they were carved into your brain. Much easier than working with patients and dealing with puke and blood and talking to people.
She had never asked Ashcloud about the details, but she had long wondered why StarClan had picked her to be his apprentice. It definitely hadn't been due to a natural affinity for it. In the beginning, she could hardly even stand the scents of some of the stronger smelling herbs. She had been useless. It had all been so overwhelming, and the only way she had pushed through it was because the fear of disappointing everyone was worse. But that wasn't the whole story. Even before then, as a four or five moon old kit, Brookpaw had known, looking at the rest of her family, that she wasn't cut out for greatness. She couldn't live up to being a royal, let alone being a medicine cat. But that was what she would be, and the added pressure had been enough for her to admit that little Brook-kit was too weak to survive in this world. Brookpaw would have to be someone else. It was slow progress, but one day, Brookpaw would become someone who was strong.
The tantalizing scent of catmint hit the roof of Brookpaw's mouth. They came to a stop; Brookpaw followed Ashcloud's line of sight to the source. Small, tender leaves grew in an irregularly shaped patch, and the kitten part of Brookpaw wanted to dive into it. She swallowed. "Is this all of it? How much can we take?" she asked Ashcloud. There was probably enough to replenish their stores to full, but then what? How long would it take to grow back?
Tag: @edda
