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
  

• ​

  ​
• 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​

 

[charitypaw]

Meadowpaw's chipper greeting is returned with an equally as bright smile, her gesture to the stone slab followed succinctly. Charitypaw delicately places the stems and roots down, using her paler paw to nudge the pieces apart so that her friend can have a better view of them. Her tail curls to her side, offering a quiet, "It's nothing, Meadowpaw, really." Although, it'd be wrong to say that the albino chimera doesn't revel in the gratitude.

"Not far from camp. It was a little difficult, however - the roots were stubborn little things. If I hadn't Molewhisker as a mentor, I don't think I would've been able to dig them up in one piece." That warrior always says the damnedest of things, but in truth, so does the apprentice. Dustystar must've wished to have her odder few corralled away from the masses, where they can share their beliefs in hushed voices. Again, hiding, again, keeping her tone so low that not even the dead tacked to her pelt can hear her. Again... alone.

She clears her throat, hiding the discomfort she brought upon herself. "I can show you some day. Maybe when the sun sets and no longerwants to singe off my pelt," she chirps it with the same kindness and brevity, though the reality of her albino fur and skin is true. She truly cannot be beneath the greenleaf sun for too long, unfortunately, and showing Meadowpaw where (and perhaps how) to dig would surely take more than a few moments.

 

[Meadowpaw]

She leaned in as Charitypaw laid out the findings—the root was sturdy, still caked with bits of dirt from being freshly uprooted. With a claw, Meadowpaw gently scraped the surface, revealing the dark cinnamon hue beneath. Meanwhile, she listened to Charitypaw with a thoughtful hum.

Molewhisker was easily one of the most skilled tunnelers she knew. No surprise that some of that talent had rubbed off on Charitypaw. "You did an amazing job getting it up intact! You and Molewhisker are amazing..." Flowers were more her area of expertise than roots, but even she could appreciate the care and skill it took to bring one back in such good shape.

"Let's see…" She went through the steps like Gladebloom showed her, working through each of her senses. Sight told her it was a root (duh), but smell would offer more. Carefully, she scrapes at the bark. The flesh was lighter and the scent had a thick earthiness to it, but there was also a subtle hint of sweetness.

"Hmmm... I'm pretty sure this is comfrey root." Meadowpaw looked to Charitypaw. "Do you remember what the plant looked like? Did it have large leaves? Maybe purple or blue flowers?"

She was fairly confident in her guess, but once Gladebloom returned, it wouldn't hurt to get a second opinion before using it to be safe.

When Charitypaw mentioned waiting for the sun to set, Meadowpaw frowned. Confusion passed across her face. "When the sun sets?" It hadn't been that hot recently had it? Then she thought of Deadwood, how the brightness had seemed painful for him to endure. Was it like that? "Is it painful for you to go out in the sun?" Then, realizing how forward that sounded, the calico stiffened. "—S-sorry if that's rude! You don't have to answer. I'm sorry!" She stammered off, green eyes flickering nervously over the chimera's face. "I would still very much love to see it, so whatever is most comfortable for you more than works for me." Whether morning, midday, or night, she could make time. That is, if Charitypaw still wanted to show her after all that...

Identification Skill Check (1d20) → 19 → Great Success

Using my MCA powers to utilize one of our monthly herb rolls to add this comfrey to the storage.

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

• "speech" - thoughts
  

• ​

  ​
• 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​