Open Territory no man’s land ] herb collecting

[cicadabuzz]

{$title} takes place at the border

CICADABUZZ, 27 moons / shc + med. cat
a SH cinnamon tabby/chocolate tortie chimera w/ orange eyes
parent to deathberrykit, hemlockkit, mistletoekit
a reserved, pragmatic healer driven by duty rather than sentiment

Cicadabuzz moves like a shadow through the disputed land, their pawsteps light against the damp earth. The air is thick with the scent of rain from the night before, clinging to the undergrowth, darkening the bark of the trees. They take in their surroundings with a measured gaze, their ears flicking at the distant calls of birds overhead. This strip of land, once ThunderClan's, now claimed by ShadowClan, feels neither like home nor enemy territory—it is simply earth, rich and untamed, full of the plants they seek. They crouch near a patch of greenery, their sharp eyes picking out the unmistakable shape of lamb's ear nestled between the roots of a fallen log. Its soft, silvery leaves spread in a low cluster, almost glowing in the dim forest light. Cicadabuzz brushes a paw over them, feeling their velvety texture. Lamb's ear is not a common remedy, but they know its value—used to grant strength, to steady those who falter.

Carefully, they begin to harvest. They do not take too much; the plant must continue to grow, must remain for the moons ahead. With precise bites, they sever a few leaves at the stem, gathering them gently. Rather than burden their jaws, they tuck the soft leaves into the fur of their tail. It is a habit they have long practiced—carrying herbs woven into themselves, keeping them safe as they move. The land here is still and heavy with silence, save for the occasional rustling in the undergrowth. Cicadabuzz does not fear being caught, but they are not foolish enough to be careless. Still, they linger a moment longer, scanning for any other useful plants before stepping back from the patch of lamb's ear.

Their mind is already turning over their stores back at camp. Lamb's ear will be a useful addition. Strength, in all its forms, is something the colony will always need. They continue moving along the disputed land, eyes scanning back and forth for more tp claim for their diminished den. As they walk, the leaves remain nestled in their tail, carried with the same quiet certainty that marks all of Cicadabuzz's steps. They are no warrior, no fighter for territory, but the land still gives to them, still yields its secrets to those who know how to look.

 

[rowanpaw]

☼ Rowanpaw is still wary of the forest. She is wary of the bushes, of the high tree tops, the holes in the earth– Molepaw's death is still clinging to her fur, her own fall never forgotten, the occasional ache in her paw a constant reminder. But she's here nonetheless; Serpentberry had sent her out on herb patrol, both a test and a show of trust. Hyacinthrain and Persimmonswirl are somewhere nearby, the rest of the patrol. She's wandered off, though not too far, in search of something useful. Anything will do during leafbare… suddenly, an unfamiliar smell. Slightly tangy, it sticks to the roof of her mouth. She dips below a bramble bush and lets out a soft gasp of surprise as she sees the cat who had moons ago helped save her life; Cicada. She didn't know if the other cat had gotten a new name, now. If Sable was now Sablestar, would he have given them new names too, like Juniperstar had?

Then, Rowanpaw realizes she must have wandered too far. This must be the patch of land they'd fought over. But Cicada… Cicada was a healer, like her, like her mother, and… she had never gotten to thank them.

"Cicada…?" Rowanpaw says. "I… I'm sorry, I didn't realize I'd wandered onto shadowclan land. I'm not her to cause trouble, I'm just looking for herbs for our stocks…" she hesitates for a moment. "I never got to thank you," she says. Because Sable betrayed my father, she thinks, because you sided with him. She shakes her head. That was… that was a separate matter. "For helping me after I fell. So… thank you."

creator, you destroy me

you know my hunger well.

• ooc: @hyacinthrain and @persimmonswirl mentioned as patrol partners
• 

  rowanpaw, 9 moons, thunderclan apprentice
  russet furred she-cat, lawful neutral
  healing and soft powerplay allowed

 

[cicadabuzz]

CICADABUZZ, 27 moons / shc + med. cat
a SH cinnamon tabby/chocolate tortie chimera w/ black eyes
parent to deathberrykit, hemlockkit, mistletoekit
a reserved, pragmatic healer driven by duty rather than sentiment

Cicadabuzz stills at the sound of their name—Cicada, the one they carried before—but they do not flinch, do not react beyond the slight turn of their ears. They recognize the voice before they fully lift their head, gaze settling on the young ThunderClan apprentice who emerges from beneath the bramble bush. Rowanpaw. The forest still clings to her, shadowed in her cautious steps, in the way her body seems braced for the earth to betray her again. Their expression remains unreadable, but their tail flicks once, the gathered lamb's ear shifting with the movement. She is out here alone. Not wise. Though her words confirm she is part of a patrol, she is separated, vulnerable. Foolishness, or stubbornness? Perhaps both.

"Then take what you need," Cicadabuzz says simply, their voice as steady as the earth beneath them. They are not a warrior. They will not send her away. "The forest does not recognize borders, only those who know how to listen to it, or those who don't." Rowanpaw hesitates—not out of fear. Uncertainty, perhaps. The gratitude in her voice is sincere, but there is something else beneath it, something tangled. Cicadabuzz does not pry. It is not their responsibility to untangle the thoughts of others. "You do not owe me thanks," they say after a pause. Their gaze flickers, searching, but not unkind. "I did what needed to be done." They always do. That is what healing is. Not kindness. Not sentiment. Necessity.

"Your paw still aches," they observe, a statement rather than a question. Their eyes drop briefly, considering. "Lamb's ear can help. For strength." A faint shift of their tail, an offering—not directly spoken, but clear enough. A quiet moment stretches between them, thin as a spider's thread, delicate but unbroken. Then Cicadabuzz turns slightly, their attention already shifting back to the earth, to the plants that thrive in its shadows.

 

[rowanpaw]

☼ "Thank you," Rowanpaw says, more out of habit than feeling a need to– Cicada was… strange, but kind. And they were right. Perhaps they– that is, those who were not warriors, but healers… perhaps they did not need to fight, as the others did. Rowanpaw would much prefer that, at least. She steps closer to Cicada, pulling the lamb's ear from their tail, tucking it into her own fur, leaving her mouth free. "Doing what needs to be done… I suppose that's true. But how do you… decide?" Her voice is so quiet that it's not clear whether or not she's addressing Cicada.

She shakes her head, speaking clearly now; "I'll remember the kindness you've shown me," she says, and then she dips back under the bramble bush, picking up her own trail back towards the patrol.

creator, you destroy me

you know my hunger well.

• ooc: -
• 

  
  

  rowanpaw, 9 moons, thunderclan apprentice
  russet furred she-cat, lawful neutral
  healing and soft powerplay allowed