PAFP Medicine Cat's Den Sticks & Stones

[Monsterkit]

MONSTERKIT, 2 Moons // ShadowClan Kit // He/Him // #ff5700
A solid black tom with red rusting and piercing copper coloured eyes.
Family is TIMBERFROST, FLEAPAW and STOATKIT
No thoughts, head empty. For now.

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Sometime during the nightly adventure he had with Stoat, Flea and some of the other young cats of ShadowClan Monsterkit must've gotten something stuck in a paw pad. He had tried to just shrug it off to start with as he hadn't wanted the others to see him bothered by something, especially Flea and Stoat-- What if they thought he wasn't tough and brave like Fleapaw was! No, he couldn't have told them! So he had gone back to his nest after the adventure while avoiding putting too much weight on that paw and then mostly forgotten about it after a bit of rest. At least, he had until a sharp pain pricked his paw hard enough to make him squeak and jerk right awake! At least it had pulled him out of his reoccurring nightmares about the bright lights...

Sitting up he'd raise the throbbing paw to see that something was indeed still lodged in his pad-- A little deeper now then it had been last night. Monsterkit would swallow anxiously as he clambered out of his nest that was usually shared with Timberfrost and waddled out of the nursery. He knew he ought to go to the Medicine den but he was frightened to! Especially with no Fleapaw and Stoatkit to come with him. But his paw was really sore now from him trying to ignore the thorn in his pad and it wouldn't take much longer for others to notice he was walking funny because of it, and if they noticed he'd be in even more trouble for not having said something earlier! He had to be a big cat and just suck it up and go alone to the Medicine Den! So off he went.

Reaching the gnarled roots of the ancient tree Monsterkit would sit just outside peering up to the curtain of thorny undergrowth with wonder for a few moments while the faint scent of herbs reached his little twitching nose before eventually hunching his shoulders as he hung down his head and waited where he sat, looking like a dejected dog. He would wait to be invited in rather then barge on in- He had heard a little from Flea about the Medicine cat and he didn't want to go getting on the nerves of a healer. The pain in his paw was likely nothing to a real Warrior, but for the kit it was so sore! It made his large round copper eyes start to water, his nose twitched again this time to try and sniff back a tear before it could really show. He couldn't cry about a little injury, crying was for kits!

OOC- @cicadabuzz

 

[cicadabuzz]

CICADABUZZ, 28 moons / shc + med. cat
a SH cinnamon tabby/chocolate tortie chimera w/ black eyes
parent to deathberrykit, hemlockkit, mistletoekit ; mentor to magpiepaw
a reserved, pragmatic healer driven by duty rather than sentiment

Cicadabuzz moves with a quiet grace, their pawsteps barely stirring the earth as they emerge from the dim interior of the medicine den. The faint rustling of leaves and the distant chirp of night insects accompany their presence, though they do not speak immediately. Their sharp gaze settles on Monsterkit, taking in the hunched shoulders, the drooped head, the way he holds his paw just slightly off the ground. The kit does not announce his ailment, but Cicadabuzz does not need him to. They see it in the tension of his frame, the subtle wince that flickers across his face when he shifts. They do not coo or fuss. Instead, they simply tilt their head, gesturing with a flick of their tail for him to follow inside. There is no room for hesitation; the invitation is wordless but absolute. Once Monsterkit enters, Cicadabuzz moves smoothly to their stores, their tail idly brushing against the the wall of the den.. A paw pad injury—small, but untreated, it could fester. And he has left it for hours.

Returning to the kit, Cicadabuzz settles beside him, their posture fluid but assured. They extend their paw in a silent request, a raised brow the only indication that Monsterkit should give them his own. They do not sigh, do not press. They merely wait, their patience an unmoving thing, as steady as the roots of the tree that shelters them. When the kit finally relents, Cicadabuzz takes his paw with practiced precision. A single glance confirms what they already knew; the splinter has burrowed deeper than it should have. It is irritated around the puncture. They do not warn him before plucking it free with the flick of a claw. The action is swift, efficient, over before Monsterkit can protest. A pause. They observe his reaction, the way his breath catches, the way he fights the sting. Then, without ceremony, they chew a sprig of horsetail, ignoring the bitter taste. They spread the poultice over the slightly swollen wound, bind it with cobweb. Their work is methodical, quiet. Only when the task is complete do they finally speak, voice smooth and even, as if sharing an unremarkable fact with the air itself.

"Don't wait next time."