Waterlogged - open -

[Mockingbird]

The door slammed behind the two oldest two-legs. They were going out for the day, leaving their son behind to look after the house. Whisper sighed. He knew that the kittens would have to find their hiding places soon if they were going to be stuck with him. His parents were fairly helpless to save their children when the boy decided to have some "fun" with them. It would have gotten them kicked out of the house, and then where would their kittens be? No, the kittens needed to fend for themselves. So Whisper slunk off under the couch and waited to hear the parents of the boy come home. But the young cat forgot to pull his tail in, and soon he was being pulled out by it.

The boy tossed him across the kitchen, slamming him fiercely into the round, blunt handle of the cabinet, knocking the wind out of him. Unable to escape for lack of air, he lay gasping as the boy snatched him up and took him outside, holding him by his shoulders and swinging his back end into trees and thorns, cutting his legs and haunches open over and over again. Finally, he launched the cat into the river down the hill. Whisper's usually quiet voice rang out in a terrified scream that ceased suddenly as his head disappeared below the surface of the water. The storm the previous evening and created an incredible current that sucked him under over and over again, soaking him through as it swept him downstream away from his home...away from his family...soon, too tired to fight, he simply let the waters carry him away, his head floating ever so slightly over the waves.

And now, eyes closed, breathing hardly noticeable at all, he washed up on the banks of the shallowest point in the water. His thick fur caught on twigs and branches near the water, holding him on the shore, almost fighting to keep him on land. But for a long while the young cat did not move. For a long while, the cat's breathing was shallow and uneven.

But suddenly he sputtered and coughed, two lungs full of water emptying in one moment before he sucked in a great swallow of air, gasping for breath, pulling himself up farther onto the clear bank and out of the grasp of the branches and brambles. The large cuts on his hind end stung and throbbed painfully, his paws scraped up from the rough sand and rocks he had scrabbled against to keep his head above water.

Now, exhausted and pained by his injuries, Whisper's body collapsed as he fell onto his side, his head dropping into the wet sand under him, eyes closing, now only struggling to hold onto life, but silently hoping that he would die before any sharp toothed beast could find its easiest meal of the day.

[Glowy]

Crowflower had managed to slip away from camp, by some miracle of the universe, to find some herbs to replenish his stores. He'd been getting a little low on water mint, and so he found himself near the StreamClan border, trying to scrounge up herbs on the PineClan side. Honestly, those warriors were so protective over their borders. Would it matter to them that his clan had suddenly had a wave of cats with bellies aching? No. No, it would not, and their consciences would not be troubled by the pain his clan was suffering because he could not cross the border and harvest from that gigantic patch of water mint sitting right... freaking... there. Honestly, he was disgusted by warriors and their stubbornness sometimes. If another medicine cat needed herbs from his territory, would he help them? Yes, he would! But warriors seemed to be lacking in generosity. Take, take, take, that was all they knew. Take and protect what was considered theirs only because of tenuous agreements with other clans, and even those could fail at any moment.

He was so glad that he didn't have to worry about all those things. He just had to keep his clanmates feeling well, find herbs, and be himself. Of course, he had to keep the treaties in mind too, but whatever. He didn't want to upset anybody, so he'd obey them and keep this side of the border, although it was lax in water mint. He might be forced to use a different herb, although the water mint worked so well. Ah well, what could he do? No use in getting upset about it. His being upset wouldn't help the situation any.

It was such a nice day out! He couldn't help but notice. He never could, not when the sky was blue, the clouds were clean and white and bulbous, the birds were twittering in the trees, and the breeze was absolutely perfect. That was enough in itself to make him smile. It was nice how the world was always around to bring him up. A strange scent intruded on his world, though, the scent of another cat. It didn't smell like a clan cat, but that didn't matter so much to him as the fact that he smelled blood. There was an injured cat somewhere around here.

So out went Happy!Crowflower and in came Serious-business!Crowflower. He started working in overdrive, trying to find the injured cat so he could help them. And there the cat was, lying on the bank of the river. Upon closer examination, he appeared to be barely conscious. The tom's eyes looked ready to roll back in his skull, his neck was bent at a funny angle and was swelling up from internal injuries, and the backs of his legs were completely lacerated. Something had not been kind to this poor cat.

"Hey," he prodded the stranger's side with his nose, hoping that it wasn't injured too. "Hey, can you hear me? My name is Crowflower. I'm going to help you, okay? You just stay awake for me. Here," he stuck a clump of sharply aromatic flowers in front of the stranger's nose, "Smell these and don't fall asleep. I'll be right back. Just stay awake. I'm going to move you before I leave, so you'll start to dry off. Okay?" The stranger was a bit heavier than would be expected for a cat of his young age, but Crowflower dragged him quite easily onto the grass. Grass was always preferable to sand, because grass didn't get stuck in the wounds and cause infection later.

It did not take him very long to find the few herbs he needed to work with. He was soon back at his patient's side, licking the sand out of his wounds and trying everything he knew to preserve his life and keep the tom awake. "What's your name, stranger? Can you tell me your name?" He padded around so he could see the stranger's face after taking care of his legs, which took a while, to be honest. There were so many cuts on them it was a wonder he hadn't bled out already. In fact, Crowflower had to leave a few times to find more cobwebs to bind the injuries with. Many times, he considered how useful it would be for him to have an apprentice. Crowflower could do the healing while the apprentice fetched supplies, or vice versa.

The swelling on his neck was going down a bit, which was good, but not quite fast enough for Crowflower's taste. He wished that he could see inside the stranger's neck to ascertain the extent of his injuries, but unfortunately, that was not possible. So he gently prodded with his paw, closing his eyes. When that didn't tell him anything, he sighed and went back to where his patient could see him. "Hey," he snapped, making a clicking sound with his tongue, "What did I tell you about staying awake? How many tails am I holding up?"

[/center]

[Cloudbat]

The clouds came and went, came and went, like the day was feeling moody. The sun still shone brightly, like it was protesting being covered and uncovered so much.

When did I become a poet? Duskstorm wondered as she yawned, tail brushing the grass. Oh well, it was a pretty good day regardless of her strange mind-wanderings. She'd caught a finch, and it wasn't too cold. Better yet, Dovepaw was off on a border patrol, so she didn't even have to worry about the cute, irritating fluffball.

But she did have to worry about the two cats she saw a few tree-lengths away, one leaning over the other. The tortoiseshell's orange eyes narrowed as her shoulders tensed, opening her mouth to try and catch their scent. But a sudden breeze blew in the opposite direction. Oh well, if they were intruders she'd need to get closer anyway.

There goes my good day, she grumbled mentally as the lanky she-cat raced over the goopy, muddy ground.

She stopped, panting slightly, a few tail-lengths from the odd pair, and sniffed again. PineClan! The black tom was PineClan...the unconscious silver tom smelled of blood, water, and something else she couldn't identify.

The StreamClan warrior's mouth pulled back in a snarl...but it died as she realized the silver tom bore signs of being treated by a medicine cat...which must be the black PineClanner.

Her ears still laid back as the breeze blew around them again, she studied the odd pair. The black tom couldn't be any older than her, the silver tom only apprentice age, and he was unconscious. They were no threat. In fact...she dimly recalled a new PineClan medicine cat being mentioned at the last Gathering. Crow-something. Crowtail? Crow-whisker?

Then she looked at the herbs between his paws. Crowflower. That was it.

Aware that she'd been staring at them for a while, she cleared her throat and sat up straight, doing her best to look dignified.

"Hello, Crowflower. I'm Duskstorm, warrior of StreamClan and all that. I'd be mad at you for trespassing, but-" (she chuckled) "-you do have a good excuse, and I doubt you could do much harm anyway." Her expression became more serious as she gazed down at his patient, who really didn't look too good.

"Who is this tom? He looks like he's half-drowned. He doesn't smell like PineClan, though I can't really tell...do you know him?"

[Mockingbird]

A voice met Whisper's ears and his eyes opened to slits to see a large black tomcat looking down at him. Too exhausted and hurt to move, Whisper simply let his head fall back to the ground, drifting between consciousness and sleep until strong smelling plant life was forced under his nose. The scent made it easier to stay awake, as the voice of the cat above him requested, but it was still a struggle. His fur was wet and cold, skin prickling with a chill as the soft wind blew over him. Whisper felt the sting of teeth in his scruff and whined quietly as his injured body was pulled up the bank of the stream to rest in some nearby grass.

It was softer here, and the sand was no longer sticking to his wet fur to cause further discomfort. Now he felt the cat's tongue over his legs and shoulders, licking the dirt from each cut and scrape and pressing something sticky and warm into them afterward. What's your name? Whisper began to speak, coughed, then rasped out quietly, "Whisper."

He finally opened his eyes enough to get a clearer look at the tom that was tending to him. He was jet black, fur shiny and well kept, and his eyes were a color Whisper had never seen before. His body was thick and strong, and yet here he was tending wounds. Hadn't a cat of this amount of power anything better to do? Perhaps hunting or chasing dogs down the street. But Whisper supposed that his two-leg owner probably took too much care of him to allow such things.

The thinking began to make his head hurt and he lowered it back down as the next question came from the mouth of this snappy cat. How many tails? Whisper sighed, "Considering you only have one?" He was sick. He wasn't stupid. But now, despite the fact that he'd nearly drowned just moments ago, he was thirsty and painfully so, "May I have a drink, Crowflower?" His young voice was quiet and timid. Even a cat as feisty as he knew when he was no match for another.

The sound of more paw steps were muffled in his ears and another voice joined theirs. He started to turn his head and whimpered, resting it on the ground again. This new cat smelled differently, and her words caused Whisper to assume that this would not be a particularly friendly meeting.

[Glowy]

Well, it appeared that while little Whisper was horribly injured, he was still lucid and thinking clearly enough to make the connection that Crowflower only had one tail and couldn't be holding up more than that. It was surprising how often he got answers of multiple tails to that question, actually. He was quite proud of himself for coming up with that test of his patients' mental states. It was a trick he'd have to share with Finchpaw one of these days. Speaking of his friend, he missed the little bugger. Of course, he couldn't really say "little," since Finchpaw was older than he was, but he would take what he could get! "Alright, alright, little one. No need to get snappy. I just wanted to make sure you weren't seeing double or anything. You've got yourself a right nasty bump on the head." Out of the blue, another scent- StreamClan- blew past on the breeze, and Crowflower went all stiff. His hair stood up on end, his ears perked up, his eyes went wide, and every sense was on alert for an attacking cat. And then Duskstorm appeared, and every instinct screamed for Crowflower to run away. He'd heard rumors about her... mood swings, and even though she was addressing him cordially now, it might all change in an instant. But he tried to get himself under control. He took deep breaths, he concentrated on making his fur lie flat again, and soon he was looking normal once more. It didn't change the fact that every instinct was ordering him to bolt, but he had a patient lying there. He couldn't just run because a temperamental she-cat had walked up. "He says his name is Whisper. Seems like a kittypet to me, to be honest. He doesn't smell wild." He motioned for Duskstorm to come over, waving with his tail. She could keep this kid awake while he went and fetched water. "But he's hurt, and I've gotta help. You do understand, don't you? He was just... lying there, and I was here. I couldn't leave and hope on the chance of a patrol finding him." His paws shuffled nervously, hoping that Duskstorm would listen to his words instead of deciding to listen to the warrior mentality that yelled "INTRUDER! ATTACK!" It would be nice for him not to be maimed for listening to his heart. "You wanna watch him for a bit? He's thirsty. I'm gonna go get him some water. Just make sure he doesn't grow wings and fly off," he teased, trying to ease the awkwardness of the situation. A smile and a bounce, and he was off to the stream with a curved leaf in his jaw. He was surprised at the ease with which he spoke to one of the most fearsome warriors in all of StreamClan, but he had to push her reputation aside in his mind and see her as just another cat. Otherwise, he would be too worried about her attacking him and leave. It was almost like the time he'd met Bluefur, his first friend in his clan. He was a big, burly warrior, and had the nastiest temper he'd ever seen. Haha, one of the first things Crowflower had said to him was "Please don't eat me, mister cat!" But, after a while, Bluefur had ceased to be scary in his mind. He was hurting. Maybe Duskstorm was hurting, too, and nobody cared to ask. An odd look crossed his face as he looked over his shoulder back at her, which he promptly shook off and returned to the stream. No, Crowflower, you have to heal Whisper. Don't worry about her. Whisper is hurt. Right. Whisper. But... still. What if Duskstorm really was hurting, somewhere deep inside, and wanted to fly and be free from it? Could he live with himself if he didn't try to help her do that? [bg=5f8219][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Cloudbat]

The odd tortoiseshell decided she liked the PineClan medicine cat, and her good mood returned. A slightly creepy smile opened up on her tufted black and orange face as she listened to him.

Her orange eyes were thoughtful, her brows angled over them as she sniffed the air once more, taking in the scents of the two toms, the river, the blood and the herbs.

She smirked at the little kittypet's reply - it seemed he was all right in the head. But once again she remembered the severity of the situation, tail twitching as she considered. Strictly speaking, she should go consult the leader and deputy, but there wasn't time for that at the moment. And she was a warrior now; she could deal with this. Cooperating with Crowflower would probably be best.

"I do. It must be nice to see someone in pain and be able to help them." She sighed. If only she could do that...help cats understand that all she really wanted was to get along, despite her eccentricity. "Technically, you're not even violating the code because of the medicine cats' freedom to travel, so hopefully whoever does find us will understand that and it won't be someone like Elmfang, StarClan forbid." She shuddered at the thought of the big, mean tabby coming across the pair. The StreamClan warrior winked at the medicine cat. "I'm crazy, but I don't want him to die. With a little luck you can trust me."

She drifted off in thought for a moment but shook herself when the bi-colored she-cat realized that the muscular PineClan tom was going to fetch him water. "Okay." She whispered, feeling a mood swing coming on. But it wasn't angry, it was sad.

Looking down at the frail silver kittypet, a sudden, vibrant memory surfaced in her mind of a ginger tomkit, grinning at her as he tackled her into soft, fresh-smelling moss. As soon as it come, it disappeared back into the recesses of her mind. Gingerkit, she thought. I miss you, little brother.

[Mockingbird]

Whisper muttered under his breath in response to Crowflower's gentle words. He wasn't a kitten anymore. He could handle himself. It wasn't his fault that he was in this situation now. The human kitten had gotten out of hand, that was all. Whisper sighed as Crowflower left his side, not at all interested in the exchange between him and the other cat, and looked up at the newcomer, blinking at her, "What's your name, then?" His voice was quiet but stronger than before, still raspy for lack of hydration, "Like he said, I'm Whisper." He let his head fall back to the grass and sighed softly.

What exactly were they going to do with him now? Would they leave him here to fend for himself? Whisper knew he couldn't find his way back home, and to be truthful he really didn't want to. Still, he was certain he wouldn't survive in the forest alone. He shivered, fear beginning to enter his thoughts.

[Cloudbat]

Oh, the little one spoke! The tortoiseshell was shocked out of her sudden mood swing and looked at him with curiosity. Evidently he was still only half-conscious.

"I'm Duskstorm. Are you...are you a kittypet? Or a rogue?" She asked. Kittypet was her suspicion..."Whisper" didn't seem like a rogue name, somehow. Then again, she'd never met a rogue, so who knew.

She realized that whether she liked it or not, this cat was technically her responsibility, at least for the moment. "How did you get caught in the river?" She asked, trying to sound gentle and understanding. She was genuinely curious, but also worried. Was it an accident? Whisper seemed young, but old enough to know not to get swept up in the current.

His pelt was an entirely different color and he was older than her brother had been when they'd left...but she couldn't help look at him and be reminded of Gingerkit. She didn't even know if he was dead or alive. For some reason she found herself caring about him a little...hoping he survived. Mouse-brain, she told herself. He's not StreamClan, he's not even a Clan cat. What do I care?

And yet she did, like a tiny worm of compassion had wriggled its way into her heart.

[Pyro]

Though he had an apprentice now, and could send her out to do such things, Storkflower still insisted he himself go out to look for herbs. It gave him time and peace to think, something he didn't get too often now what with every cat in the clan turning to him for all their injury related problems. No matter how small it was they always came to him. It could be a spot of red on their coat from a berry- and stop the presses and get me Storkflower! The tom sighed. Maybe this is why Badgernose left. She just couldn't take it. Moving toward the border with pine, Storkflower's senses heightened. He had a certain wariness around borders now, as though he was half-expecting the loner who'd done his leg in to come around and finish the job. He inhaled, taking in the scents coming from the stream that served as a geographical boundary. Water mint...he needed that. Duskstorm...probably hunting. Crowflower...probably...wait. Crowflower? And that wasn't all. There was another strange scent, not pineclan or streamclan. Loner. Against his better judgment he moved closer, trying to get a glimpse of what was going on. He was a little taken aback to see Duskstorm and Crowflower huddled over the loner, even more so to see that the loner looked half-drowned. He stepped forward coughing to get their attention. "Y'all want to fill me in on what's happening here?" Speaking [bg=f9fdd9][atrb=width,467,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Glowy]

Crowflower tried very hard to make it back to Whisper without spilling any of the precious water. Yeah. That failed. Leaves, no matter how curved they were, were not the best water transportation vessels in the world. His leaf was not study at all, and, long story short, he ended up getting water all over his chest. Smooth, Crowflower. Smooth. What did medicine cats normally use to transport liquids? Oh. Right. Moss. DUH! Moss, moss, moss. Yeah. It soaked up liquids. And you could squeeze them out again. How could he have been so stupid? "Moss. Moss. You mousebrain. MOSS. Go find some. Unless you've forgotten where moss grows as well?" He muttered to himself, quite put out with his idiocy. How could he have forgotten that? Moss. It was one of the oldest and most basic tricks in the freaking book. Moss. Tree trunk. Sunny side. RRRRR-IP! No more moss. Crowflower stalked back to the stream with eyes narrowed and rolling at himself. How could he have forgotten that? Moss. MOSS. Honestly. It was almost like he was a little five moon old kit again, given his apprenticeship a full moon before the traditional time and was tottering around inside the medicine den for the first time, eyes wide and screwing up all the neat piles of herbs while his mentor just sat there with his eyes closed, most likely doing a mental ~facepalm. He'd made more mistakes that day than he cared to remember. Of course, all he'd been able to think about was how good all the awesome plants smelled! No logic whatsoever. Eh, logic was overrated sometimes. Ah, there was Storkflower! He waved his tail in greeting, but his comrade appeared not to notice and just stared confoundedly at the black tom's patient. Then he coughed and stepped forward, as if they would not have noticed another wave of deliciously herbal smells coming their way. "Y'all want to fill me in on what's happening here?" Crowflower smiled through his mouthful of still dry moss, perking up immediately as his attention shifted from his own blunder to Storkflower's presence. "Well. Whisper's hurt pretty badly, and he's still conscious, and he's thirsty. So I'm getting him water." Way to go for simplicity, Crowflower. Soon, the wet moss was placed in front of Whisper's mouth and Crowflower was applying pressure to the wounds that still leaked little rivulets of blood. They were barely there, but any blood lost was a tragedy. Crowflower motioned to Storkflower like nothing was weird about this situation at all, beckoning him to Whisper's side with his tail. "I was out looking for some watermint on my side of the border, when I saw this guy washed up on your shore. I couldn't smell any patrol coming, and, as you can see, his wounds, if left untreated, would have killed him. So I dragged him up here and started treating him with the herbs I could find in the area." He moved his paws, having successfully staunched the flow in that small area of Whisper's flank. "I can replace the herbs I used, if you want, since they were from your territory. Are. Yeah. They're from your territory. Not were. Are." He grinned sheepishly at Storkflower, shrugging his shoulders. "Hey, since you're here, do you think you could help me a little bit? I'd really appreciate it. Just help stop the bleeding and... things..." [bg=5f8219][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Mockingbird]

((Look who's back! ))

Whisper tipped his head to the side as Duskstorm asked what exactly he was. He had never heard of these terms before. Rogue? Kittypet? "I lived with a human family all my life. Their youngling threw me into the river, and after that storm we just had the current was pretty rough." The young cat smelled another approaching and sighed. This was just far too much attention for his liking. He would far rather be watching them all from a distance than be at the center of all the trouble.

Crowflower returned with a heap of moss, soaked with water. It took Whisper a moment to figure out how that fixed any problem at all, but once he squished a little into his mouth he understood. The water was delicious, if a tad green, and he sucked the moss dry quickly. Crowflower greeted the new cat brightly, though he seemed a tad embarrassed for some reason or another, and requested assistance. Whisper suppressed a groan. Though he wasn't sure where he would go, he thought that once the bleeding was stopped he was probably fine. Nothing felt broken, and aside from the large gash in his neck most of him was really just banged up and bruised. It was the exhaustion that had been the worst of it, and the blood loss.

Crowflower?" The sharp-tongued tom was somewhat more timid now, "What happens now?"

[Ember]

[bg=84a6ba][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] OOC: Saw Cloudie's comment about little Dovey and I had to peek in on this thread. Dovepaw pranced through the forest. She had just returned to camp, trying to find Duskstorm. They had told her that Duskstorm had left camp and is probably down by the border somewhere. Dovepaw bounced down the path, poking her nose in the air, looking for her mentor's scent. She stopped dead, There's Duskstorm's scent! And Storkflower too. She sped up, following the calico's scent. She stopped and scented the air again, she noticed two more scents along with her mentor's. Who were they? One smelled like PineClan and the other she wasn't sure. She walked closer and saw Duskstorm, Storkflower and a black tom huddled together. She recognized the black tom from gatherings, Oh! It's Ravenflower! Is that his name? I think so, oh well... As she walked up she began to pick up their conversation. Oh...his name was Crowflower, oops. Oh well, close enough. She bounded up. "Hello Duskstorm! I've been looking all over for you! I returned from border patrol and they said you might be out here. Oh and hello, Storkflower, Crowflower." She dipped her head in respect to the two medicine cats. She then looked down and saw a very injured cat on the ground. Who was he? He looked about her age, maybe a little younger. He smelled funny, nothing like she had ever scented before. Maybe he was an intruder! He looked really hurt, maybe the cats that were with him caught him and attacked him. "Who's this?!?" She said menacingly, glaring down at the newcomer. "Did you claw his fur off? Was he stealing prey? How hard was he to get? Can I get him too?" She caught his eye and growled, fluffing up her fur and sticking her tail out. "I hope you got what was coming to you, you mangy prey stealer!" Duskstorm would be so proud of her, she finally spiked up the courage to defend her clan.

[Cloudbat]

Woah. Lots of cats. Okay, not lots, but still quite a few. "Well, I think Crowflower's pretty much explained it." She said, still speaking softly, trying to suppress the sorrow of the mood swing. Idiot, idiot, idiot. This was her chance to be something and declare herself. Emotions wouldn't ruin it. The medicine cats' conversation gave her a chance to steady herself and wrestle her illogical sorrow into a tight bundle that she could chuck in the back of her mind for later. It still throbbed, stirring her faint, bittersweet memories, but she had it chained now, chained in the divide that separated the hemispheres of her mind. Her attention was snapped back into the real world as Whisper spoke again, and his alien yet horribly familiar scent made her blink. "Oh, so you were...are...a kittypet?" But then his explanation of why he was here...normally she'd shrug it off as common careless cruelty, but in her current state, it made her fiercely protective of him and she suppressed a desire to lick his ear. He is not Gingerkit, the tortoiseshell told herself. He could never be Gingerkit. "Well," she whispered back to him, conscious of the irony, "I suppose you won't want to go back, then. Maybe...maybe you could stay here, in StreamClan." Again, not something she'd normally say. Also, their time of accepting newcomers had long passed. But surely, Jaegerstar wouldn't turn away this poor tom. Despite his injuries, he wasn't whining like a normal kittypet. He was alert and curious, which showed strength of character. If only Cloudstar were still alive...despite the fact that their relationship had never been more than cordial, she found she missed the white leader. He was the closest thing she'd had to a father. Which was depressing, and threatened to crack her careful shield from herself. It shuddered - wobbled - a faint whimper escaped her as her claws ripped at the grass - but she regained control. ...and then, because the world hated her, Dovepaw had to show up. On the bright side, it meant she now had something to be irritated at instead of being crushed by depression. On the down side, it meant she looked like a total mouse-brain by association. Gritting her teeth, she grinned at the little fluffball. "Why yes...how kind of them to direct you here. And no, Dovepaw, he is not an invader. His name is Whisper, and you will kindly go notify Jaegerstar that he is here, and we're bringing him to camp." Good - it was a convenient way to get rid of her, and it would perform a useful service as well. Privately, the young she-cat felt a bit scared about making such a decision. Still, though Storkflower technically outranked her, she was the warrior here, and warriors didn't dither and wait for the brass to arrive. Besides, it made sense, and if Jaegerstar picked on her, she could defend herself by saying Storkflower was only behaving according to the warrior code and she'd helped him. Which was perfectly true, even if Crowflower had arrived first. Mmm, speaking of Crowflower. "Uh..." Grrr. How best to say this? The lanky StreamClanner turned back to the black PineClanner. "Crowflower, I really do appreciate your help, and I'm sure Whisper does too, but it'd be probably be best if you left. Besides, good ol' Storky can take care of him. Heh. If you can tell, I'm not overly fond of having to say this." [bg=ede9cb][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Pyro]

Storkflower shrugged. He would have ended up using the herbs Crowflower used on Whisper on the kittypet anyway. He highly doubted Cinderpaw would let him pass over such a patient, and not just because she herself used to be a kittypet. His apprentice was chatty but kind, which he supposed offset his own newfound...ass...ness. Of course, as callous as he was becoming, he didn't think he'd be able to just leave a cat out to die. Storkflower might not be good for words of comfort, but abandonment just wasn't his style. The medicine cat came over on Whisper's other side, assessing him despite what Crowflower had said. He trusted his fellow healer to be able to examine a patient, but he felt more comfortable seeing everything for himself. He might have only been half trained but there were some things he did know. And one of those things was that he wouldn't learn by letting another cat do his work. "Cobwebs. Always some of those spiders that have their webs in the ground by the stream." He said, half to himself, half to Crowflower, as he walked as briskly as his limp allowed to the edge of the bank, peering around clumps of reeds until he found a sizeable web. It wasn't abandoned...and so technically not a cobweb, but he was pretty sure the kittypet needed it more than the spider. And of course, the spider could always make a new web, right? He limped around the bank a little more, gathering more webs, but he could tell that it wouldn't be enough. The tom had more in his den, but could Whisper really wait that long? Perhaps, perhaps not. Honestly, he was half tempted to just shove mud on the wound for lack of anything better. But that would probably turn out counter productive. Clay, maybe? He was certain that Badgernose had mentioned it before. Pouring his irritation at his his on inepititude into a sigh he waded into the stream, crossing over to a higher bank where clay was in excess. He clawed the damp substance from the mini wall the stream had formed, and once on the same side as he'd started, Storkflower combined it with the cobwebs. And of course the only way to get it to Whisper was to carry it in his mouth. Lovely. The black and white tom applied the mixture to Whisper's wound, spitting globs of clay to the side as he worked. He'd never get the taste of the damn stuff off his tongue. But if the clay worked, it'd be worth it he supposed. He had a gut feeling that it would. Of course, he wasn't sure if he was experienced enough to trust it. Storkflower glanced up as the beautiful, and by beautiful he meant ear-grating, voice of Dovepaw reached him. Lovely. Duskstorm was quicker to the punch though, and he grunted his agreement with her order. "Duskstorm's right. You need to go Crowflower, I-I can handle this." Oh how he wanted to say, ''No Duskstorm, I need Crowflower here. I can't do this alone.' But his pride just wouldn't let him this time. [bg=f9fdd9][atrb=width,467,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

"I should certainly hope so, Storkflower." Jaegerstar padded up to the group, her light footfalls making no discernible sound. As per her nature her pace was measured, but brisk: not slow enough to drag things out, but not fast enough as to be seen as 'in a rush'. She was, after all, a leader, and she did not need to rush to the aid of a cat whose name she did not even know. The only real reason behind her quick appearance after Dovepaw's leaving was that she had already been on a patrol, and after sending the rest of the cats on it back to camp in case the 'drowned' kittypet was only a distraction for an attack (highly unlikely but StreamClan could not afford not having a certain amount of caution in its state), she had followed the eager apprentice to the streambank. The leader turned to face Crowflower, her expression unreadable. He was on her side of the border...but he was a medicine cat. But he was on her side of the border. Yes, he would have to leave. "As my medicine cat and warrior have already told you, I am sure, you will have to leave StreamClan territory. We thank you for your help, but StreamClan will take charge of this kittypet...It is the least we can do, seeing as it was our stream that nearly killed him." She turned her green gaze to Whisper now, her expression no more readable than it had been when she faced Crowflower...but within the safety of her own mind she felt a twinge of empathy for the kittypet. Jaegerstar could still recall the time she herself had faced drowning: It was only by sheer dumb luck that a cat had been close enough to help her. "If you are strong enough to speak, I must know what is your name and how have you come to be here? This is awfully far out for a kittypet to have traveled." She paused, appraising his injuries. Chances were he could not be on his way within the hour, or even within the day. As much empathy as she felt for him, she could not help but feel loathe to drag another mouth to feed back to camp. And she had a sneaking suspicion that that was exactly what would be asked of her. Could she read minds? No. But given the situation and the nature of the cats present...Well, despite her loathing of the idea, even she would be hard-pressed to just leave the kittypet by the bank to fend for himself. It was morally wrong. And practically wrong: dangerous predators would be attracted by the chance for an easy meal. Still. It would mean valuable herbs and food going to a stranger who would probably leave them all in the dust once he was strong enough. That is, if he didn't insist on mooching off them forever. Naturally, all this meant that the only solid solution would be for the herbs and food to become an investment. If the kittypet could be turned to join StreamClan he could be trained to become a warrior, and a useful one too. In that way he would more than pay back the efforts made to heal him and StreamClan would gain a much needed warrior. "Whether or not you are strong enough to speak you will accompany us back to camp where Storkflower may better see to you. Duskstorm and I will assist you there if need be." [bg=969797][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]

[Glowy]

Crowflower couldn't help but feel a twinge of hurt. Couldn't he stay and help? He'd been the one who'd found Whisper, who'd tended to his wounds and comforted the poor soul before anybody in StreamClan had even scented him! Clan differences be dashed! He wanted to help. "I'm sure you don't enjoy saying it, Duskstorm. But you're right. Storkflower can handle this by himself," he muttered, casting his eyes downward. Still, he didn't want to go. He cast a glance at his colleague, wishing with all his heart for the black-and-white tom to ask him to stay. He didn't want to be... he didn't want to be rejected. He didn't want to be told he wasn't good enough to help simply because he was born somewhere else. Crowflower really hated borders. They had to be respected, but he hated them. They were insubstantial divisions between cats that could do nothing but cause strife and prevent healing from taking place. Why did they even exist? Oh, how he wished that he could just tear them down. Then there would be no reason for anybody to send him away. He just wanted to finish the job! Was it too much to ask to be certain of his patient's safety before he left? Storkflower was sending him away, too. It seemed that he really wasn't welcome here. So he rose to his paws, flicked his ears a few times, shook the water from his paws, and prepared to cross the stream back into his own territory. "I know you can, Storkflower." Ah, and then the new StreamClan leader showed up! What was her name? Jaystar, Chiggerstar... oh, cripes, what was it... Jaegerstar! That was it. He dipped his head in respect. "I was just leaving, as a matter of fact." And with that, he splashed his way through the stream across to his own territory, disappearing into the tall pines without so much as a glance back over his shoulder. The only pause he made was to pick up his abandoned pile of watermint on the PineClan side of the border. He briefly considered taking refuge in a low-lying bush and watching the proceedings across the border, but thought better of it and padded along the path to camp. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of spying. [bg=5f8219][atrb=width,469,true] [atrb=border,0,true]