unlucky (closed.)

[gray]

Eyes narrowed in concentration, mouth half-open to drink in scents, tail held still; a lean gray shape traversed stealthily across a patch of heather. The grayish-purple heather was fragrant and interrupted every so often by smooth gray rocks; the sun was finally clear of the horizon and the sky’s color ranged from pale heather to orangey-pink to bluish-gray. Cinderfoot could taste the scent of rabbit in the air, and he was starving. He’d left camp before sunrise with the intent of traveling to the far reaches of WindClan territory in search of herbs. Most of the usual spots had already been stripped of everything useful, except for the few plants needed to keep the patch growing. So far, he’d been unlucky—the unluckiness made him angry. Cinderfoot streaked after the rabbit, abandoning all caution after a small pebble clacked down a larger rock. The rabbit’s ears angled backwards and Cinderfoot was nearly upon it before it leapt into action, spraying dirt and sparse grass into his face. Hissing angrily, fury lending him speed, Cinderfoot caught up with the rabbit. His grueling pace would soon flag, and he bunched his muscles in a terrific leap.

Claws outstretched, teeth bared, growl rising from his throat, the lean gray tomcat snagged the rabbit’s rump. He tumbled forward, slashing it viciously with his free paw as the frustrated growl burst forth in a half-scream. Breathing hard, Cinderfoot turned his pale gaze to the dead rabbit. It was mangled, nearly in half. Supremely glad that Barkface had not been around to watch his lack of control and display of violence, he settled down to eat.

His merciless warrior training had had the most impact on shaping him into the cat he was now, and Cinderfoot knew that his new mentor greatly feared and mistrusted that brutal training. The brown tabby medicine cat tried to imprint peace and gentleness on Cinderfoot, but never succeeded. It was an admirable effort, an effort Cinderfoot admired, but a futile effort nonetheless. He would do anything Barkface asked of him, but Barkface could not change the nature of the beast.

Washing his paws free of blood and swiping his tongue over his mouth, Cinderfoot rose from his spot and kicked grass and heather over the bloodstained spot—not out of shame, because there was no shame in strength or ferocity, but out of common sense. No prey would venture near such blatant warnings of death. With his violent outburst behind him, Cinderfoot trotted forward with jaws open for the scents of herbs. Tansy, coltsfoot… Tansy, lavender, and chickweed, perhaps if he could sneak near Sunningrocks and get some chickweed… He might just be onto a new combination for curing colds.

word count // 450
ooc comments // none
tags // open to all

[talltale]

Mintpaw
She-cat || 6 Moons || Windclan

--~-----~--

Soft silent white paws of soft fur treaded through the heather and the grasses and stones. Her soft fur repelled burrs and tangling grass, it made the little she-cat slip through the undergrowth like a bright white shadow. Her pelt was perfect for hiding, and that’s what she normally used it for. The white of her coat blended with light and with snow, while her charcoal spotting seeped into the shadows and rocks all about her. This was Mintpaw. She was a new apprentice, her name had just been given to her and she was curious about the wide world, not as excited and energy-filled as her sister: Breezepaw, Mintpaw was shy, and sweet as honey. Her steps were always quiet and her mind was always open. She loved to learn and one thing she loved above all else was the smells beyond the camp. She loved to know about herbs, she loved to listen to legends and gaze up at the stars wondering just what was out there.

Of course she knew not everything was fun and games but to a new apprentice who’d never felt the fear of battle or the rush of blood, war seemed so far away. Her little mind knew it wasn’t but yet she couldn’t force herself to focus on the topic for very long. Besides any time she did successfully thing about such things her face would be, moments later, in the dirt due to a sneak attack launched by one of her siblings… usually Breezepaw…

Speaking of Breezepaw how odd it was that Mintpaw dared leave the den without her sister, never mind leaving camp alone! This was a huge step for the young cat, but she felt she needed the time away from her family. She was going to be a warrior… she was going to fight and launch herself into battle! … or… at least she was expected to… She wasn’t a fighter! She could barely take care of herself, never mind her clan. Maybe they could just toss her in with the elders, she’d be less of a nuisance there or be thrown to the badgers that terrified her so. What good was she as a warrior? She looked back at herself and her bobbed-tail… without a tail she couldn’t balance or turn like her siblings and friends, and without a tail she was without confidence.

Trying to shake the stress away she looked up and a head, her large mint-colored eyes darting around, not in fear, but in curiosity. Suddenly her eyes moved over a familiar shape, a shape she remembered from her kit-hood. It was the medicine cat apprentice: Cinderfoot! She didn’t know much about him, had never really talked to him, but she knew he was a medicine cat and that was one thing that could always brighten Mintpaw’s day!

With silent strides she bounded over to the tom through the sweet-scented heather, not knowing his day was going so poorly, and came up beside him, “Hello Cinderfoot!” She purred in her soft sweet voice, minty eyes bright and cheery as her whiskers twitched in friendly greeting. She wondered if he remembered her from that day, only moons ago, when her and her siblings had snuck out of camp as kits and come face to face with the angry terror of a badger to whom she lost her tail.

--~-----~--

Word Count;;563
Ooc;; ~
Tags;; ~

[gray]

It was shaping up to be a beautiful day, full of sunshine, but considerably lacking in success. Certainly, he would be unable to get anywhere near Sunningrocks, he knew, that would involve far too much intrusion on enemy territory. In another age, he may have been able to manage it, but that was an age far behind him now—far behind his very birth. It had been seasons, long seasons, since cats had even considered welcoming others into their territory under any circumstances. Wartime was no occasion to go traipsing through other’s land, and although Cinderfoot did not under any conditions fear ThunderClan, he also wasn’t foolish or harebrained. Although allies, it was never intelligent to impose his authority or will on them or flaunt their alliance. Besides, BloodClan could be a bit much. So obnoxious, they were, always acting tough and terrifying when Cinderfoot could be anyone’s worst nightmare if he wished to be so.

He furiously dug his claws into the ground, anger bubbling up inside of him until a ferocious growl ripped forth from his throat. He simply couldn’t stand this! He couldn’t find one single helpful herb, not one patch of growth that hadn’t already been stripped of useful leaves and flowers and stems and roots. Cinderfoot tore at the earth until a large patch of ground covered in heather—heather that was now shredded, thank you kindly –had been completely turned over and fresh reddish dirt showed. The dirt was moist and clung to his paws, sticking in between his claws; he shook his feet and tugged the clods of earth out angrily. He stood with his back arched, tail fluffed out and lashing, breathing hard, until the red rage faded and he could become more rational.

A faint rustling sound announced the presence of another feline, and the medicine cat apprentice fervently hoped no one had caught his outburst of lost control. Two outbursts, he mentally corrected himself, remembering the rabbit from earlier. Suddenly, a fuzzy little she-cat—no more than a kit, really –bounded up to his side and attached herself to him. “Hello Cinderfoot!”

[/s] the cheerful newly named apprentice purred. Her green eyes, the eyes from which she got her name, stared up at him with wide innocence. Mintpaw had a certain naïve sweetness to her whole demeanor that endeared herself to many. In all truthfulness, the little apprentice would certainly make a better medicine cat than he himself would. She was no fighter, but wasn’t short on bravery—Cinderfoot remembered her as a kit with a missing tail. He remembered assisting Barkface in healing her; she was such a gentle spirit and had Cinderfoot been medicine cat then, he would have gladly taken her on as his apprentice. “Hello, Mintpaw,” Cinderfoot replied in a gentle tone. The violent gray tomcat had a huge soft spot for young cats, and inexperienced little Mintpaw was certainly no exception. In fact, Cinderfoot had considerably more fondness for her than many others. Her fascination with herbs—discovered from her time in the medicine cat den after the badger relieved her of her tail –appealed to him. “What brings you out of camp on your own?” The little she-cat was known to lack confidence, and this forging out on her own showed something completely opposite of that.

word count // 551
ooc comments // aww, Mintpaw is such a cutie(:
tags // open to all

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[talltale]

Mintpaw
She-cat || 6 Moons || Windclan

--~-----~--

Mintpaw purred as the scents of the moors filled her nose and her ears were never still, she listened for every sound, every chirp, every whistle. Many of the sounds she had heard before from the shelter of the camp but never seen what made them, and well… that was part of the answer to the question Cinderfoot was going to pose to her. Her whiskers twitched and she blinked at the tom slowly, a sort of friendly cat-greeting, but before she could answer the tom’s reply her ears shot straight up as a whistling chirp tore across the blue sky and Mintpaw’s eyes tracked a little yellow bird. “Oh! What’s that? A warbler? Mama said there were funny sounding yellow birds out here.” She mewed then she felt her fur heat up in embarrassment. She was making outbursts and sounding a whole lot like her rash sister, and in front of an adult cat too! How embarrassing! She shook her head and tried her darnedest to salvage the situation.

Mintpaw looked up at the tom with those curious and soft big eyes, as he posed his question, it felt sudden after her outburst and she tried to think of a reasonable answer that wouldn’t give away the fact that she was totally flustered. “Um… well…” She mentally slapped herself, ‘get a grip’ she thought to herself, it wasn’t like his question was a test or trick question! “Breezepaw is off with her mentor and Onewhisker’s busy right now so I thought I would follow my nose and ears and try to put a picture to the sounds and smells I’ve been curious about for moons now.” She said, half hopping that that would explain her sudden outburst about the warbler. It was odd for a cat her age to not want to just catch everything in sight, but she was more interested in documenting everything in sight rather than catching and tasting it all. Besides she loved birds, and bugs, and stars… anything that ‘flew’ basically. She could have laid on her back all morning and watched the clouds roll by, then continue to lay there when the stars came out. She loved everything in the sky! The chattering of birds during the day and the chirping of crickets in the evening… There was nothing more relaxing. At least… she didn’t think so. Her sister always just said it was boring.

--~-----~--

Word Count;; 402
Ooc;; Thanks, I'm glad you like her. I thought she might be an interesting thread-partner for Cinderfoot.
Tags;; ~

[gray]

Usually, the gray tomcat despised any and all interruptions, yet this interruption evoked very little irritation—luckily for the apprentice; she would have no doubt been terrified by Cinderfoot’s wild rage. She twitched her whiskers and blinked warmly, green irises darted around to stare at the rugged beauty of WindClan. Cinderfoot had always wondered who his parents were, desperately wanting to kill them both. He wondered if they were WindClanners; he was certainly built like a WindClanner. Perhaps he was part WindClan and part rogue or loner—that would make more sense than two WindClan parents. Why would two proud WindClan parents leave their son in the snow to freeze? His attention snapped to the little gray-and-white she-cat as her excited chatter continuously increased in speed. Something about a warbler floated around in his head. “Breezepaw is off with her mentor and Onewhisker’s busy right now so I thought I would follow my nose and ears and try to put a picture to the sounds and smells I’ve been curious about for moons now.” Ah, yes, Onewhisker’s little apprentice. She wouldn’t turn out to be much of a fighter, judging by how she was now.

However, Mintpaw was a sweet little apprentice with a deep love of herbs, and how could he fault her for that? Going out on her own proved that her curiosity overcame her nervousness—something that revealed her courage, small as it would be at this time. “Perhaps I can assist you with that,” suggested Cinderfoot. “After all, there is no reason you shouldn’t learn. Was there anything specific you came out here to find?” Secretly, in a place where Cinderfoot hardly dared to acknowledge, he hoped that Mintpaw would want to learn about herbs and weather and creatures and mixtures. Perhaps, in the future when Barkface retired, Cinderfoot could convert Mintpaw and make a medicine cat out of her if she wished. On the other hand, perhaps with time she would grow into her warrior role, although he really rather hoped not.

word count // 337
ooc comments // whew, sorry, my English writing portfolio took a lot out of me
tags // open to all

[talltale]

Mintpaw
She-cat || 6 Moons || Windclan

--~-----~--

Mintpaw’s nose twitched as a gale blew scent over her nose and she sneezed a little shaking the pollen out of her nose. Her ears twitched around her, listening, always listening. She would have actually made a fantastic hunter if she had the bloodlust for it. Her senses were keen, smell and hearing above the others but none below average. She could be a great tracker if she would give herself the time to practice and the confidence… neither of which she seemed to have. Her attention was on other things. She wanted more knowledge, always seeking something she didn’t know already but never rubbing her accumulated knowledge in anyone’s face. She was too humble for that… in fact she was too humble in general some times. It was the rare day when Mintpaw thought she was pretty, or overly smart, or special in any way. She didn’t think she was useless or way below average (with the exception of every once in a while) but she didn’t think she was anything other than average.

As Cinderfoot offered his suggestion Mintpaw’s ears stopped flicking around and shot straight towards the ash-colored tom and her eyes lit up with enthusiasm. He wanted to teach her? She couldn’t have been happier, Cinderfoot was a smart cat and Mintpaw really rather liked him. He was kind to her, not only when she lost her tail but whenever she got up the courage to speak to him. She couldn’t help but wish that he was the one training her and not Onewhisker. Wait… Was that mean? She thought about it and decided that it was, she felt bad for wishing it so but she couldn’t help it. “You’d do that?” She purred pushing the thought of her mentor out of her head for the time being. Now her active little mind was filled with another problem: What did she want to learn about? It wasn’t hard to think of something, there was so much Cinderfoot could teach her but they had so little time! What did she want to learn about most? It was almost impossible to choose! “Well…” She began, quietly at first, “I’m always smelling things that blow in off the moor and out of your den, but I don’t know what they look like, what they’re called… or what they do.” She said and stood up tall feeling happy and excited and a little more free than usual, “Maybe you could show me those?” She asked then felt her fur heat up and she shuffled her paws shyly, “Y-you know… if you wanna.” She added trying to be polite and not impose.

--~-----~--

Word Count;; 441
Ooc;; Ugh, sorry. I thought I posted then realised my internet deleted my post so I had to re-do it and couldn't over the weekend...
Tags;; ~

[gray]

The little apprentice emitted a surprisingly large sneeze for one of her size as the new pollen filled the air and a light breeze whisked around them. The scent of heather filled the moorlands, a scent that Cinderfoot had always been rather fond of. Mintpaw’s ears pricked up and she gazed at him in wonderment. “You’d do that?”

[/I] she asked, sounding utterly stunned. He heard a purr rising from her chest. “Well… I’m always smelling things that blow in off the moor and out of your den, but I don’t know what they look like, what they’re called… or what they do. Maybe you could show me those?”[/I] Her tone was exciting and her eyes were bright, but then Mintpaw looked away and scuffed the ground with her paws. “Y-you know… if you wanna.” Triumph leaped within the gray tom’s chest, soaring throughout his body and making him think that perhaps the day wasn’t so unlucky after all.

“The herbs, you mean?” he mused, mostly to himself and glancing around. But of course this is the day I haven’t found anything promising, he spat to himself. Nothing went right. Cinderfoot cast around for something, anything, any sort of herb or medicine that could serve as an introduction for Mintpaw. He knew he shouldn’t show such eagerness to turn the apprentice away from her warrior path, for there was a zero chance of the medicine cat apprentice position opening up within the next few seasons. Barkface had a while yet in him, and the brown tabby medicine cat was a hardy feline. Finally, Cinderfoot’s pale green eyes spotted the distinctive splash of red that announced the presence of poppy flowers. That shade of red belonged to only two things—poppy flowers, and fresh blood oozing from a minor cut. “Do you see that splash of red? That is a poppy flower. That red is very characteristic, like a splash of blood on white fur. We use the seeds to relieve pain and aid sleep.” The cluster of red flowers stood out against the heather and the sky, a spot of bright warm color against an almost grayscale background.

The lean gray tom rather liked their defiance.

A slight breeze stirred the poppy flowers. “You will notice that poppies are rather unscented; the color is what gives them away. You could smell the air all day and never know that a poppy was behind you.” It was almost as though the flower itself was trying to be stealthy, like it had no desire to be found. Like it had no wish to help the wounded cats in need. Maybe the poppy didn’t like cats who did foolish things and got hurt in stupid ways, much the same way as Cinderfoot. He decided that poppies were his favorite herb.

word count // 466
ooc comments // no worries, I had no internet for a while; I was moving 8 hours away xD

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[talltale]

Mintpaw
She-cat || 6 Moons || Windclan

--~-----~--

The little soft-furred she-cat purred again as she saw a spark of excitement in the medicine cat apprentice, she felt like she was seeing a side of this tom that most cats didn't get to see. She had heard others talking about his grouchy disposition but she didn't think he was like that. she just thought he was misunderstood, in fact she rather liked this tom. Beyond her family she could probably say he was her favorite... Not that it was a nice thing to label your clan-mates with favoritism. He was nice to her and he was patient with her. He didn't seem to care if she wasn't the toughest cat around and he didn't scold her for her interest in herbs when she should be training to fight.

"Yes herbs." She nodded in confirmation, her whiskers twitched in excitement and her little bobbed tail moved ever so slightly from side to side. If she still had her full tail it would be waving like the plum of a common reed in the wind. She was trying to sound calm and keep herself composed and not make a fool of herself in front of Cinderfoot but she was sure it was bound to happen at some point. Mintpaw was clumsy, she knew that, and she'd trip herself up sooner or later and get laughed at. She was always afraid of being laughed at. She was always sure to pretend that sticks and stone and all that never bothered her, but it did. She knew she was different because of her tail, she knew that without it she would never have the balance of the other warriors but still, she wanted to keep others from coming to the same conclusion. Her tail was probably the only thing that made her even slightly interested in warrior training... maybe one day she'd find her balance. None the less, for now Mintpaw was unswayed by the opinions of others, her mind had temporarily forgotten about being a warrior, or even being a clan cat for that matter. Right now she was just a cat out with a friend and a teacher, right now she was happy.

Mintpaw's minty-eyes followed the tom's gaze to the bright red poppy flowers, "Oh they're pretty!" she purred blinking at them a few times before bounding over to examine them more closely, "I've seen, and tasted, poppy seeds before but I didn't know what plant they came form, never imagined it would be so pretty." She said then bent to sniff the flower, he was right, there wasn't much of a scent to it if it even really had one at all. "I don't think I'll ever get this herb wrong." she pointed out, "It's pretty obvious, and it's red color makes it's effect make sense. If a cat bleeds like this flower then this flower makes it stop hurting." She said not sure if her reasoning made sense to anyone else, but it worked for her.

"Are they common?" She asked turning her eyes away from the brilliant splash of color and back to the stone-colored tom nearby. Despite the dramatic color change that met her eyes Mintpaw's mood went unaffected. The pretty color of the poppy made her happy, but Cinderfoot seemed to have the same effect on her.

--~-----~--

Word Count;; Unknown
Ooc;; D'aww they're so cute. Makes me want to draw them... If I ever got the time
Tags;; Cinderfoot

[/quote]

[gray]

“Oh, they’re pretty!”

[/I] purred the little apprentice. Horrified by the statement, Cinderfoot recoiled with a strange look. Pretty?! he thought. They’re violent. They look like battle and blood. How could they possibly be pretty? Although, little Mintpaw could not be blamed for her naivety—she had not been mentored by Fireflower. She had not seen what Cinderfoot had seen. She had never seen a battle, not even the aftermath of one. She had never set one paw in StarClan, only to claw her way out again. She was young, she was innocent, and she was forgiven. “I’ve seen, and tasted, poppy seeds before but I didn’t know what plant they came from, never imagined it would be so pretty.”[/I] Mintpaw leaned over to smell the flower, as though disbelieving that they might be scentless. “I don’t think I’ll ever get this herb wrong…”[/I] Mintpaw uncertainly explained her reasoning.

Cinderfoot nodded. “Good,” he replied. “Whatever helps you remember. It matters not what anyone might thing of your memory devices, so long as you remember them. No one cares how you remember their treatments, so long as you heal them. Poppy flowers are one of the most common in the territories. No matter where you go, most likely, poppies will be there as well.” They spread like rabbits, always a new clump of poppy flowers somewhere, no matter where in the forest you were. “You never want to give poppy seeds to nursing queens. The seeds themselves are very small; round black seeds, they are. Shaken out of a dried poppy flower-head.” It was a simple enough treatment, praise StarClan, even for the little ones to take. The kits and apprentices always spat out the herbs simply because they ‘taste yucky’. It was quite a nuisance, really. One time, Cinderfoot had become so frustrated with a new apprentice that he’d shouted, “Just take the StarClan-forsaken herbs, already, before I toss you out of here by your tail!” Of course, Barkface reprimanded him soundly for it, saying that cooperation came from gentle coaxing and encouragement. The gray tom had stubbornly pointed out that he had successfully scared the apprentice into taking the herbs. Barkface had frowned at it, but could say no more because it was the truth—Cinderfoot’s way had indeed worked.

“The poppies also are not difficult to collect. Simply pluck the flower from the ground and carry a large bundle. We have no need of the stems or leaves, so as long as the flower-head stays intact, you could certainly mutilate the stem if you wished. That makes them easy for novices to collect, as well, since there is very little finesse in collecting poppies.” Unfortunately, not all herbs were so simple. Cinderfoot remembered the first time he had mangled an herb while out on an herb-collecting operation. It was in his third week as Barkface’s apprentice, his third week of the Clan giving him sidelong glances, his third week of feeling like an utter failure. Of course, after a particularly snide remark, he had assured the entire Clan that he could—and most definitely would –still annihilate anyone who scorned him. He may have a harmless position, other than the fact that he could easily slip someone hemlock or nightshade or deathberries, but he was under no circumstances a harmless cat.

His shock when the herb ripped instead of pulling smoothly out of the earth was great; he tossed the mangled stem away from him and stared at it, fury building up until he pounced on the patch of the plant and shredded the whole clump. Barkface was disappointed by his reaction, not his mistake. Cinderfoot had borne the disappointment callously, wanting nothing more than revenge on the stupid plant that made him lose control like that. To this day, he still hated goldenrod with a passion.

word count // 638
ooc comments // whoops random really long post. oh well(: I would absolutely love to see a drawing of the two!
tags // open to all

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[talltale]

Mintpaw
She-cat || 6 Moons || Windclan

--~-----~--

Mintpaw looked about the field as the tom talked, she was listening, which showed by the backwards tilting of her one ear, but she was also examining the plant. She kind of wanted to try and colect one but what would her sister and brother say if she came back to the clan with a big red flower... They'd just think she was crazy and Breezepaw would panic that Mintpaw was going to leave her. The soft apprentice almost laughed to herself, that wasn't going to happen. She was going to live her life as a warrior, that seemed to be her only option. Mintpaw longed to be out here enjoying the day and helping cats but a little piece of her knew she would miss the warrior life too. No kits, no patrols with the others... there were lots of limitations but this is what she was cut out for, something just told her that this was what was right!

Bashfully the apprentice batted at the poppy's head making it bounce on it's stem like a toy a kitty-pet might have. Of course that was another option for cats like her... Cats that weren't great fighters or warriors or hunters... they could always leave and let a two-leg look after them... But then again that just felt like cheating, besides, it was a lonely life. A life without purpose. At least that's how Mintpaw saw it. She was a coward, but she wouldn't take the coward's way out!

"Do you need poppies?" She asked, "I could help carry some back?" She offered, at least if she was carrying them back for Cinderfoot she could just claim she used her free day for the good of the clan by helping out the medicine cats. There was nothing wring with a warrior just helping sometimes, was there? She decided not. Maybe on her free days she'd regularly visit the medicine dens, she liked Barkface and she liked Cinderfoot more. Maybe they could be friends even when she got a little bit older, when she wasn't a little kit anymore... She wondered if he would still be patient with her if she wasn't a kit, kits were expected to make mistakes but warriors didn't, they were held to different standards.

--~-----~--

Word Count;; Unknown
Ooc;; No worries, random long posts are fun! I should when my finger gets better. They're so fun, can't wait for older Mintpaw could be interesting.
Tags;; Cinderfoot

[gray]

Oh, how he hated collecting goldenrod. Fortunately, there was none of it in sight, not even any sort of herb with the color yellow anywhere on it. In fact, there was no sight of anything yellow anywhere, praise StarClan. As he spoke, Mintpaw angled her ears towards him—it was oh so gratifying to have someone hanging upon his every word. It seemed as though the entire world had abandoned any respect—or rather, fear, whatever, what it was called mattered not –for him or of him when he became Barkface’s apprentice. Not only had he returned to another endless moons that would stretch into seasons that would eventually become years, but he had also pledged to save the fools who may have been better off walking with StarClan.

Then Mintpaw was excitedly asking whether or not he needed poppies, immediately rolling into her next question—“I could help carry some back?”

[/I] The truth was, poppies were one of the few things he and Barkface had no urgent need of—or any need of in general. Because they were such common flowers, they had plenty already. In fact, their entire inventory was comprised almost solely of poppies at this point. However, the playful batting around of the poppy flower… the hopeful look in the green eyes… the wide-eyed innocence that Mintpaw possessed.

“Of course,” he said gently. “Someone is always getting hurt. There is always a need to relieve pain.” Mintpaw struck such a resonance in him unlike any other young one in the Clan. The warriors, well, he could hardly stand any of them—scrap that thought, he couldn’t stand any of them at all, just some were more bearable than others. However, he truly liked all kits, and tolerated all apprentices while liking the majority of them (except for the stubborn ones, such as the herb-spitters and the boasters). Mintpaw, though… something about her was just special. Perhaps it was the herb-lover he saw. She was so very polar opposite from him, but then again, so was Barkface. In actuality, that was probably a good thing. The balance would be good. Yes, maybe once Barkface retired, he could convert Mintpaw—or rather, Mintheart or Mintwhisker or whatever her warrior name would be –from warrior into medicine cat. Assuming she stays like this, of course, mused Cinderfoot. Maybe she would grow accustomed to living as a warrior—after, it wasn’t as though she saw any way to be a medicine cat.

Of course, all this was just him assuming she had any desire to even be a medicine cat. She could just be curious and generously helpful. Cinderfoot mentally shook himself, and sat back on his haunches. He gestured with a sweep of his tail for Mintpaw to go ahead into the poppy flowers. After all, it was simple and he had basically just explained how to do it. Maybe he would spot some other herb nearby.

Probably not, he snapped to himself.

word count // 494
ooc comments // aaaand back to a normal length(: best wishes to your poor finger!
tags // open to all

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[talltale]

Mintpaw
She-cat || 6 Moons || Windclan

--~-----~--

Mintpaw's eyes lit up when he said she could collect the flowers and she let a warm bubbly purr boil up from her chest as she set to work tugging at the stem of the flower. It was tougher than she expected and so had to pull harder using her claws to ground her before she pulled the flower up and off. She felt a glow of pride sparking in her soft fur, her first herb! And she had actually collected it without any problems! It wasn't like her first miserable hunting trip, no no, she hadn't fail, not this time! No flower could escape her! Stupid mouse, who needs it anyway. She thought to herself, she didn't like hunting, it just proved what she already knew, that without a tail she wasn't a very balanced being.

She repeated her process a few times until she had 3 bright red flowers just hanging in her mouth, "This enough?" She managed to mumble from behind a mouthful of stem. She wondered if they needed to get the herbs back right away or if Cinderfoot would teach her something else. It didn't have to be a herb, it could really be anything, she was just enjoying this day. It made her feel useful, less tiny and pathetic. It proved to her that she could actually accomplish something! Maybe she could accomplish more than she thought? Maybe she could be a warrior. Sure it wasn't exactly what she wanted but that didn't mean she shouldn't do her best... right?

--~-----~--

Word Count;; Unknown
Ooc;; Thought it was on the mend but NOPE hurts more today than it has in the past few days! Typical.
Tags;; Cinderfoot

[gray]

The eagerness with which Mintpaw went about her task was so fresh, so invigorating; it had been such a long time since Cinderfoot had seen excitement for anything medicine cat related in anyone that wasn’t either Barkface or himself. She struggled with the first flower but pulled up two more in rapid succession. Such a natural, he mused. He truly enjoyed being around the happy little apprentice and, much to his surprise, she seemed to like his presence as well. She trotted over with the crimson poppies clutched in her mouth. “This enough?”

[/I] she mumbled around the flowers. Oh, she was quitting already? Perhaps she had already decided that being a medicine cat wasn’t the path for her. Then, Cinderfoot told himself not to be foolish. This was Mintpaw, the gentle apprentice who was nervous of her own shadow. She was no warrior, and there was no shame in that since her talents clearly lay in other areas. She might not be a warrior, but she certainly was no soft-brained kittypet, either.

Nodding, he said, “For now, yes; we have many poppy heads in the store.” He cast about for another herb, but he saw nothing and was forced to give up with an infuriated sigh. “It seems as though there are no other herbs around now; Barkface and I have stripped this area pretty much bare—except for the poppies, of course.” The poppies seemed to be as numerous as the stars in the sky. Perhaps for every dead warrior a star and a poppy appeared in the sky and the ground respectively. Poppies, red, like the blood of those warriors and stars like the fire of their lives. He turned away from Mintpaw and his pale eyes raked the horizon as his mouth curled into an unpleasant, sardonic smile. What a pleasant thought, he mused scathingly. It sounded like something his foster mother would have said. Blackpelt had been as plain as her name as far as appearance, but she was so kind. He wondered what his apprenticeship would have been like had she and Coalkit survived. He wondered if he would have harmed Coalkit in any way; it was entirely possible, Coalkit might have been foolish had he lived and grown up with Cinderfoot.

“I will be in dire need of an apprentice when Barkface retires,” he murmured as though to himself. It was hardly a subtle tactic, but he glanced at Mintpaw out of the corner of his eyes anyways. She was young and innocent and saw the best in everyone; she would hardly suspect the tiniest bit of manipulation he was about to use. He knew that gently prodding Mintpaw’s sights on that of the position of medicine cat apprentice would hardly be difficult. It would be a quick and simple thing, and besides, he was only helping her lean towards what she wanted in the first place. That wasn’t a bad thing, no. He opened his mouth to drink in the air as though scenting another herb—which, to his astonishment, he did. Of course, though, it just had to be a yellow plant. StarClan-forsaken ragwort… He cursed the day that StarClan decided to invent the color yellow.

word count // 534
ooc comments // haha boo I hate when that happens
tags // open to all

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[talltale]

Mintpaw
She-cat || 6 Moons || Windclan

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Mintpaw put the flowers down in front of herself so she could speak better, "If there is anything else you want me to collect I'd be happy to help." She purred sweetly, she liked the idea of using her mind to help others and she also liked the idea of hanging around with Cinderfoot more. So what if she had to be a warrior? Why couldn't she do both, right? It would take up all her time but if she enjoyed doing it what was the harm? She had always been the type of cat to like cats that were different. If there was something different about you she wanted to know more, if you didn't have friends she wanted to be your friend. It made her sad to see other cats that were sad and it made her mad to see cats picking on each other for no reason. She understood what war was, she knew it was mandatory sometimes too, but that didn't mean she had to like it. In a way she liked Tigerstar's idea of having one big harmonious clan but at the same time, she really didn't. There was always four clans in the forest, besides, how could one leader keep a massive clan like that in order? No, it was better to have clans that related to one another, clans that were all different, clans that knew things the others didn't. If every cat knew how to fish like Riverclan there would be no more fish in the river. If every cat could run like a windclanner there would be no reason for races. If every cat was as rule-abiding as Thunderclan there would never be any adventurers. And if every cat was as resilient as Shadowclan warriors there would not be any strife or challenge to life... No if all clans came together as one, no doubt they would be strong, but there would be no more specialty any more, no more individuality...

The little grey and white apprentice was snapped out of her thoughtful loop when Cinderfoot spoke up again, "I could do it!" She purred then coughed and shuffled her feet, did that sound over the top eager? Probably, she was going to make a fool of herself! She could feel her fur heating up in embarrassment. "I mean I would love to do it, but I'm not in a hurry for anything to happen to Barkface either." she said trying not to sound like a psycho-path that would just kick someone off the gorge to get what she wanted. She wasn't like that at all! If it meant Barkface would live longer, or if it meant anyone would live longer for that matter, she would give up on her dream.

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Word Count;; Unknown
Ooc;; Feels better today, maybe after exams I'll have time for a picture
Tags;; Cinderfoot

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A low growl rose in his throat; did they need ragwort? Unless they had a dire life-or-death need for it, then he was definitely not going to collect any. Its color looked exactly like that of goldenrod. Half the flowering herbs in this StarClan-forsaken forest were goldenrod-flower-yellow. It seemed so unnecessary; it was so… so irksome! He had never, not once in his life since the accursed goldenrod incident, ever played his games with a she-cat who had yellow eyes. He was so very glad that he hadn’t been born with yellow eyes. It would have been the ultimate irony. StarClan at least liked him enough to have spared him that. However, they had provided him with a perfect apprentice who couldn’t be his apprentice because he was Barkface’s apprentice. It drove him so crazy, especially when Mintpaw gasped, “I could do it!”

[/I] A loud purr rumbled from her chest—once again, the lithe gray tom marveled at how such an intense sound came from such a little cat. Then, sounding embarrassed, she added, “I mean, I would love to do it, but I’m not in a hurry for anything to happen to Barkface, either.”[/I] No one was; the Clan loved the brown tabby medicine cat. Even Cinderfoot loved the brown tabby medicine cat, and he felt no attachment to anyone—proof of just how likeable and special WindClan’s medicine cat truly was.

Cinderfoot had spent so much time in the medicine den when he was young that he had been practically raised by Barkface. He knew the medicine den so well he could easily navigate it blind. Each herb was so familiar to him, every nook and every crack memorized. Its scent was home. He wondered what the den would feel like without Barkface. “Neither am I,” he replied with a shrug. “But if anything were to happen to him—well, I wouldn’t put anything past ShadowClan. Oh, don’t mind me, Mintpaw. I shouldn’t take your focus away from your warrior training.” He resisted the smirk that threatened to curl his mouth. “Just—don’t forget to visit me in between training. The herbs are always waiting.” He almost added a sly remark at the end, but no; Mintpaw was too young and innocent. He would never do what he had already done to so many she-cats to a kitten. Perhaps when she was older and wiser.

Actually, he was shocked by how readily the words nearly slipped off his tongue. He genuinely liked being around the sweet little apprentice. Her cheerfulness was practically contagious. Cinderfoot flicked his ear and gazed at the sky; it was getting late and he certainly didn’t have enough herbs to fill today’s quota. That made him angry. He should have tried a different spot; of course all the herbs had been picked here, it was his most frequented area. The area needed time to replenish itself. However, in a way, the day had been a success. The gray tom would be able to have a successor immediately once Barkface retired instead of desperately searching and wondering what would happen if he died before training anyone. Barkface should be relatively pleased.

word count // 526
ooc comments // it might be time to wrap this up(:
tags // tale

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