Private Camp ShadowClan strenght in the veins // cicada

[Marbleshine]

MARBLE OF SHADOWCLAN

Marbleshine padded around camp, her steps restless, a faint frown tugging at her face. She had been helping, doing what she knew, the basics. She hunted, tracked down things Cicadabuzz might need, and spent plenty of time kit-sitting. Timberfrost certainly appreciated the extra set of paws when it came to those energetic little critters. She gave gifts to her Clanmates, small tokens of appreciation, gestures of kindness. And yet… it still didn't feel like enough.

Taking a deep breath, she tilted her head back, squinting at the sky as if the stars might whisper an answer. The thought had been brewing in her mind for some time now, but she had hesitated to voice it. Not anymore. Steeling herself, she turned and padded toward the familiar figure of Cicadabuzz, a friendly smile easing onto her face as she approached. " Uhm, hello, Cicadabuzz! " she greeted, her voice polite, a soft purr threading through it. She stepped to the side, falling in line beside the medicine cat, but hesitation flickered in her gaze.

" I was… well, I was wondering something. " She faltered, wincing. " I mean-- doing everything on your own… No, wait... that's not what I meant-- " Her words tripped over themselves, frustration flickering across her face. This wasn't coming out right. She took another breath, steadied herself, then tried again. " I was wondering if I could help you. " she said, her voice quieter but firm. " I want to learn more about herbs. About healing. About how to help others… to know which herbs to use, which ones to be careful with. " Marbleshine lifted her gaze to Cicadabuzz, her expression open, hopeful.

" I want to help. "

GO ON AND TRY TO TEAR ME DOWN ——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— I WILL BE RISING FROM THE GROUND

 

[cicadabuzz]

Cicadabuzz listens without expression, their amber eyes half-lidded as Marbleshine stumbles through her words. They do not rush to fill the silences, nor do they offer any reassurance when she trips over her own tongue. They simply wait, their stillness in stark contrast to her restless energy. It is a habit ingrained in them—patience, observation, letting others reveal what they truly mean when given enough space to speak. And Marbleshine, for all her hesitations, is not merely making idle conversation. That much is clear. When she finally manages to steady herself, her voice quieter but filled with intent, Cicadabuzz lets the silence stretch a little longer. They shift their gaze to the sky, not because they expect an answer there but because the motion gives them time to think.

Marbleshine wants to learn. To help. A noble desire, but nobility has never been enough to make a cat fit for healing. Cicadabuzz knows this better than most. Healing is not simply knowing which herbs to chew and which to avoid. It is long moons of memorization, of repetition, of trial and error where the stakes are far too high for error to be tolerated. It is carrying knowledge in one's head and paws at all times, even when exhaustion sinks into the bones. It is watching a cat's breath rattle in their chest and knowing that nothing can be done. It is making peace with failure, with loss, with the knowledge that not all lives can be saved. It is knowing when to tuck red berries within prey and watch as a frail shape breathes its last.

It is not something to be learned on a whim. And Marbleshine—well, she has already set her paws firmly on the path of a warrior. She has spent time learning the skills of battle, of hunting, of fighting alongside her Clanmates. Her paws are already trained to a different rhythm, her instincts sharpened for another purpose. A cat cannot split themselves between two callings, not truly. Cicadabuzz has no interest in taking on a student who will vanish when war calls, whose lessons will always be secondary to the life already chosen. A half-trained healer is no healer at all.

And yet.

They study Marbleshine, noting the hope in her eyes, the way she holds herself as if bracing for rejection. She is not asking for an apprentice's place in the den. She is not demanding anything at all, really. She only wants to know more, to be useful in ways beyond the life she already knows. That, at least, Cicadabuzz can respect. Knowledge, when given carefully, is not a burden but a safeguard. A cat who understands the basics of healing is less likely to make mistakes that cost lives. If nothing else, teaching her a little could prevent more harm than it causes. Cicadabuzz exhales, slow and measured, before finally speaking. "You may help," they say, voice even, unreadable. "A little." Their tail flicks toward the small hollow where their herbs are stored. "I have marigold to sort. Poppy seeds to count. You will not touch anything without my say." They let the words settle, watching how Marbleshine absorbs them, before adding, "And I will teach you—some things. Enough to know what to use. What not to. Enough to keep you from making mistakes."

They do not offer more than that. This is not an invitation to something greater, not a door flung open. It is a measured allowance, a test of sorts. Marbleshine will not follow in their pawsteps, will not take their path. But she may stand at their side, for now, and if she listens well, she may yet learn something worth knowing.

 

[Marbleshine]

MARBLE OF SHADOWCLAN

Marbleshine's eyes gleamed with hope, her heart quietly hopeful though she expected, and did not demand, an answer. She knew the likelihood of rejection was high already. She knew so little, yet wanted so much more. She was aware of the poppyseeds and cobwebs… but what else was there to help when help was needed? The aftermath of the great fight that split the colony had left her with such feelings of helplessness. That fight between the clans... Shadow and Thunder... Thunder had branded her a traitor, and with that came the bitter taste of disdain. Yet it was a truth she could not ignore.

But despite the past, despite the isolation from that side of the forest, what she truly longed for was the ability to help. She saw no enemies, only others, living their lives, struggling, like her. She knew some of her clanmates could be unkind, and maybe she herself was a lot to handle for those knew not how to treat kindness when it was thrown in their face... She wished, with all her heart, to offer that kindness to them. To make them realize there was more than fighting...

With a quiet swallow, Marbleshine lifted her head, letting her smile remain firm and unwavering, though the vulnerability lingered. She trusted Cicadabuzz. They were eccentric, sure, but not unkind. And their intelligence was undeniable.

When Cicadabuzz finally spoke, offering guidance on how she could help, Marbleshine's expression brightened immediately. She wasn't sure what exactly she had expected, but hearing that she could contribute, no matter how small, filled her with a rush of warmth. " O-oh, oh, thank you! " she meowed gratefully, rising to her paws, her tail flicking happily. She listened closely as Cicadabuzz spoke of the tasks at hand, counting poppyseeds, sorting marigold. Not touch anything without their say so... Yes, she could do that. Even gathering herbs for the clan would be something she could manage.

Her chest swelled with gratitude, and she swallowed a few times, the words tumbling out before she could stop herself. " Thank you, thank you so much, Cicadabuzz! I promise to listen well, to help in every way possible. I won't touch anything without your say-so. I promise! "

With a firm nod, she dipped her head low in sincere respect, her heart set on fulfilling her new role, no matter how small or large. She would make the most of this opportunity to be useful, to prove to herself and to others that she was more than just a kind face...

GO ON AND TRY TO TEAR ME DOWN ——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— I WILL BE RISING FROM THE GROUND

 

[cicadabuzz]

Cicadabuzz watches Marbleshine's reaction with quiet scrutiny, their expression unreadable even as her face lights up with gratitude. She is eager—perhaps too eager. They had expected relief, perhaps a quiet nod of acceptance, but instead, they are met with an outpouring of enthusiasm that borders on overwhelming. The words tumble from her mouth like water spilling from an overfull stream, one after another, until she is practically breathless. They blink, slow and deliberate, letting the rush of her voice settle into the air before responding. There is nothing to say to such effusive thanks. They have not granted her some great privilege—only a small allowance, a sliver of knowledge, nothing more. And yet, she treats it as if it is everything.

Cicadabuzz exhales through their nose, glancing toward their herb store before returning their gaze to Marbleshine. If she is going to help, even in small ways, she will need to learn restraint. Healing is not done with eager paws and overflowing words. It is done with precision, patience, and a careful mind that does not rush ahead of itself. "You are excitable," they observe, voice calm, flat. It is not quite a criticism, nor is it praise—simply an observation, one they expect her to acknowledge. "Enthusiasm will not serve you if it makes you careless. Healing requires steady paws and a clear mind. If you wish to be useful, you must learn when to hold still." They let the words settle, watching to see how she absorbs them. Marbleshine is not an unthinking cat—she feels deeply, that much is obvious—but feeling is not always an asset in this work. It clouds the mind, makes decisions heavier than they need to be. A healer cannot hesitate when lives are at stake, nor can they rush ahead simply because their heart urges them to act.

Cicadabuzz flicks their tail toward the small pile of herbs beside their den. "Marigold first. The leaves must be checked for rot—dark spots, wilting edges. If it is spoiled, it is useless." They pause, then add, "You will not keep every piece simply because you wish for it to be good. A healer does not work with wishes, only what is real." They shift their weight, settling into a comfortable sit as they watch her, gauging her reaction. Marbleshine is earnest, but is she capable of setting aside hope for pragmatism? Can she let go of what she wants something to be in favor of what it truly is? That will be the test, the first of many. For now, they will let her sort marigold. They will watch. They will see if she listens, if she follows instructions without letting her excitement make her clumsy. Perhaps, in time, she will learn something worth knowing. But Cicadabuzz will not rush to meet her enthusiasm with their own. They are in no hurry. The world will teach her patience, one way or another.

 

[Marbleshine]

MARBLE OF SHADOWCLAN

Cicadabuzz was... an enigma to her. She couldn't quite place their reactions, their actions, their words. She was excited, happy, grateful for the smallest morsel of approval. It was enough to brighten her spirit. Yet their response caused a flicker of doubt to cross her face.

Enthusiasm will not serve you if it makes you careless.

Was that what they meant? That her eagerness might lead her astray? Her ears twitched, and she glanced down, a thoughtful frown tugging at her lips. They didn't sound unkind, their words carried a steadiness, not criticism. But still, it stung in a way she hadn't expected. Steady paws. A clear mind. Knowing when to hold still. She let the advice settle, the meaning swirling in her thoughts. Look before acting. Think before moving. Did she ever pause to truly think about her actions? Her heart had always been in the right place, with the best intentions for others' health and well-being. But perhaps that wasn't always enough.

" I... think I understand what you're trying to say... " she murmured softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. But there was determination too. She wanted to learn, to grow. " I need to work on it... but I'm willing to try. " Marigold. She could start with the marigold. Sorting through which pieces could be kept and which needed to be discarded, it sounded simple enough. Yet even this required precision. She perked up at the task but quickly stopped herself, remembering their advice. Enthusiasm could not outweigh careful judgment.

Turning her focus to the marigold, she worked with slow, deliberate care. Her paws hovered over each piece as she examined them. Some made her hesitate, but she forced herself to make decisions, no matter how much she wanted to hope for the best. Bad pieces couldn't be kept... They would do no good. Her usual bright smile had faded, replaced with a serious frown of concentration. Her movements were slow, perhaps too slow, as she learned to set aside her impulsiveness. But eventually, she finished, pulling together the pieces she deemed usable and pushing aside those she knew weren't good enough.

She turned to Cicadabuzz, her gaze searching for approval. " How does this look? "

GO ON AND TRY TO TEAR ME DOWN ——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— I WILL BE RISING FROM THE GROUND