Camp let's dive together [ meadowpaw ]

[charitypaw]

One day, they will all be gone. Fed to wolves and the earth itself, their souls will be driven from their bodies and all that remains will be useful again. But what of the interim? Charitypaw doesn't chase away fate nor desire, nor does she find it in herself to shame those who desire to live, even if to spite death. But is it not demeaning to destiny to stave off the end? A poultice, a bandage, a steeped leaf and the water it soaked in... All remedies to hold away Death and his horsemen... Is that wrong?

It's an ongoing line of questioning for Charitypaw. The Clan she's joined has cats that are skilled in the art of warding away sickness and injury. Are they horrid in their attempts to preserve what's left - or simply unaware? Charitypaw could even wager a guess that they believe in the "StarClan" of it all, and that it's their belief system that keeps them anchored to this waking world. And now the molly, no longer a working cog in that old rogue group, has no need to hunt down the few (or many) who defy her gods and her views. Just in time, perhaps; she doesn't think she could harbor additional souls in her chest.

But could she, in good faith, help these cats? Feeding them, arranging nests... each are tasks not necessarily important to their roles rather than their loose survival. But herbs? The very thing that could be life or death? It feels wrong.

And yet, Charitypaw holds a bundle of stems beneath her chin, her long tail swaying behind her. "Gladebloom?" she calls the elder first, then her apprentice with the same lilt, "Meadowpaw? I've found something with sturdy roots. I'm not sure if it's any use for you..." With hope, it's not, with luck, it may be.

@Meadowpaw

 

[Meadowpaw]

Meadowpaw lifted her head at the quiet rustle of the den's drapery, ears flicking at the sound of Gladebloom being called first, and then her. She recognized that lilting voice immediately. Leaving the herbs she'd been sorting, she rose to greet the other apprentice.

She hopped over, green eyes projecting warmth as they settled on Charitypaw—and then drifted to the bundle of stems tucked beneath her chin. A familiar scent wafted in on the breeze, but Meadowpaw wouldn't jump to an answer yet. No, it was always better to be sure when it came to identifying herbs. If she mistook it for something it wasn't, then it could mean life or death.

"Oh, hello Charitypaw!" With a sweep of her tail, she beckoned for Charitypaw to make their way in. "Gladebloom's out right now, but you can set it down over here and I'll take a look." The calico led to a small rocky slab where the root could be placed. Overhead, a breeze stirred the gorse, stirring the air with sweetness and small petals.

"Thank you for bringing this." Meadowpaw mewed softly, peeking over at the cream-color with a timid smile. "It's really nice of you to help out." Whether or not the stems proved useful, she really appreciated the effort—and Meadowpaw knew Gladebloom would feel the same. "Where did you find this?" Her clanmate seemed to have a knack for finding plants. First, the dandelion puff, and now a mystery root...

______________I believe that there is a courage ✿ but its burnin' like ash in the wind_____________

• "speech" - thoughts
  

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• Meadow she/her & windclan
  ✿ Three-legged black and red tortoiseshell with green eyes.
  ✿ A light crisp-sounding voice
  ✿ Loves flowers and always has some woven into her fur
  ✿ Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted. All others DM.
  ✿ Fur smells floral and mildly sweet.
  
  
  penned by Scarlet​