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Posted by STRAY on Aug 23, 2023 20:25:11 GMT
BUZZARDCLOUD The morning sunlight peeked over the mountains and lit up the western face of the cliffs, casting the rest of the camp in shadow. The Clan slowly roused from their slumber. Buzzardcloud, in her usual place right outside the nursery, opened her maw in a yawn and mumbled sleepy hellos to a returning patrol. Fresh prey-scent wafted behind them. Pigeon, was it? A couple squirrels, too. Perhaps the elders would appreciate those, she mused. Her fur stood on end and her tail flicked involuntarily as a chill ran through her body; New-Leaf may have arrived, but frost still clung to the peaks of the Rainspine.
Buzzardcloud stood and shook herself out. Her legs felt a bit sore, but not terribly so—nothing that couldn't be fixed by waking and stretching. As she took the time to groom herself, her eyes wandered towards the healer's den. Was Hollowchime in camp still, or has she left already? A prick of worry struck Buzzardcloud's heart at the thought of the healer traveling alone. She quickly soothed herself. The wind wouldn't let harm come so easily to a healer, especially one of RidgeClan. And Hollowchime wasn't a kit anymore, either.
Buzzardcloud softly called over a young molly, exchanging a couple words ("Are you busy?" "No, what's up?") before the molly sat to guard the nursery in the matriarch's stead. Satisfied, Buzzardcloud began walking towards the healer's den.
Healers are busy. It wouldn't make sense to visit for no reason when Hollowchime's attention could go to some other cat. She didn't really need to visit the den, but... it wouldn't hurt to go check on her. That was her job as matriarch, right? To take care of her Clanmates, especially the youngest ones. It's been over a year since Skyfeather passed, Buzzardcloud thought. Time heals all wounds eventually, but Hollowchime was especially close to the old healer. And I miss her, too.
Maybe she'll come up with an excuse anyway.
The wind greeted her and ruffled her fur, whistling like laughter as it followed her across camp. Buzzardcloud, of course, couldn't understand its words, wasn't privy to its secrets like healers were. So she laughed to herself and shook her head.
"I know," she said quietly, watching the wind kick up leaves. "Let's just keep it a secret between ourselves, alright?"
There was a pause as the wind seemed to ignore her—she thought that's what it did, anyway—and then it whisked the leaves away to the other side of the camp, instead taking interest in a drowsy warrior. That... looked like agreement enough. She hummed a little to herself, stopping just in front of the healer's den, then poked her head inside.
"Hollowchime? Are you in? I've got a bit of soreness that doesn't seem to be going away."
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Posted by littlewing on Aug 23, 2023 21:11:34 GMT
H O L L O W C H I M E
Ridgeclan healer If Hollowchime wasn’t out and about in Ridgeclan’s vast territory, she was often accounting for her herbs. Her status of healer made her feel like she had to become a jack of all trades— to mend hurt bodies, monitor her surroundings for any signs from Starclan or the wind, and be a shoulder for her clan-mates to lean on. She desperately needed to improve on the latter, the best of her skills being a stilted ”and how does that make you feel?”On some days, it was just easier to hide in her den and count plants. Plants didn’t have complicated family lives or strange dreams that needed interpretation. All they did was sit politely in neat little piles. There was a unique calmness that came from solitude, one she found herself most comfortable in. Her ears swiveled back, acknowledging the meows asking for her help. She didn’t turn to greet them, but instead continued to face her herbs. “Soreness?” She called out, mainly to confirm to herself. Like a mantra in her head, she muttered soreness under her breath as she sorted through the herbs stored along the den walls. Some were stuffed into the craggy openings between rocks while others still needed to be organized, placed in loose masses across the floor. Many scents greeted Hollowchime— pungent, bitter, spicy, peppery… and then the subtle, sweet undertones of the daisy she was looking for. Good and reliable daisy; it was one of the flowers that seemed to fare decently throughout the harsh Ridgeclan terrain. The little blooms of white and yellow were a common and plentiful sight, especially during New-Leaf. Today, she would not need the flower itself, but the leaves. Hollowchime gently took the wavy leaves into her mouth, padding towards the entrance of the den. Splotches of sunlight filtered through the growth of rowdy vines that climbed the rock’s face, dyeing the molly’s otherwise dark coat with a slight reddish glow. The morning sun was gentle and felt nice on her fur. “Can youf move it? Where doefs it hurrft—“ Her yellow eyes blinked in recognition, only now realizing that the requester’s voice belonged to Buzzardcloud. “Oh,” was all she said through a mouthful of leaves. She placed them down in front of her paws and cleared her throat. Buzzardcloud was a welcome face, one that Hollowchime didn’t feel awkward around. The older cat seemed to understand her mannerisms just fine, and she quietly appreciated the sentiment. Not many in the clan shared Buzzardcloud’s cordial personality, so Hollowchime felt a bit conflicted with her request. To feel sore was to age, and to age was to… well, get old. The idea stirred strange feelings in Hollowchime’s chest, ones she was all too eager to push away. Her eyebrows furrowed together, expression washed over with seriousness. “Sore where? And how sore?”
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Posted by STRAY on Sept 3, 2023 23:19:38 GMT
BUZZARDCLOUD The tortoiseshell molly tilted her head and hummed, her eyes involuntarily creasing with amusement at the healer's concern. Logically, of course, it's a healer's duty to worry about the Clan; it's a bit different when you helped raise one as a kit.
"Nothing too bad. It's only a little uncomfortable when I move it." Buzzardcloud flexed one of her back legs, both as a way to confirm her own statement and to show Hollowchime where the pain was coming from.
A tiny pop from her joints made her wrinkle her nose. It didn't hurt, but she had a fleeting thought that the wind was attempting to give her a real reason to visit the healer. No, she mused, I'm not old yet, but I'm certainly not getting any younger.
"It isn't terrible, nor even urgent," she quickly added, hoping to dispel some of the seriousness from Hollowchime's face. She wanted this whole meeting to be casual, after all. No use making small talk if it's turned into something to fuss over. "You know I don't leave camp too often, so..."
That much was true, at least, even if her visit was for false reasons. Buzzardcloud rarely hunted and patrolled. And while RidgeClan didn't really prefer sleeping in dens anyway, she slept right outside of the nursery--and it wouldn't make sense for a nest to be in front of an entrance of any kind. The last time she went to a Gathering was... hmm, was it before Swiftflower retired? After? It was around that time, and she had only agreed to go under the pretense that the former matriarch take up her guard.
In any case, it'd do her good to get advice. There were only so many laps around camp she could pace when she felt antsy enough to leave the nursery, and simply going on more patrols was out of the question.
Buzzardcloud took a step back so she wasn't so close to the den's entrance and sat down, her tail neatly curling beside her. "...I do wonder, though, if perhaps I should change something about how I sleep, or if some type of stretching is in order for the future."
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Posted by littlewing on Sept 8, 2023 15:39:54 GMT
H O L L O W C H I M E
Ridgeclan healer
She watched Buzzardcloud’s movement closely, pale yellow eyes observant as ever. “Let’s start with daisy, then. Eat a few of these with one of your meals. And if you start to feel queasy, let me know. I’ll give you something else,” her words are stale, like a line repeated over and over again to many different cats. It wasn’t Hollowchime’s own voice, but one of a healer. Hollowchime was never good at small talk; she didn’t feel the need to fill silence when there wasn’t much to say. Listening was one of her jobs after all, and it complimented her already reserved personality. With a nod, more to herself than Buzzardcloud, she turned around to find the large, recognizable leaves of the burgloss bush. While it did not have any medicinal properties, she found the plant served as a perfect way to wrap up loose herbs. The leaf was smooth under her paw-pads, its signature blue-ish hue still present despite being picked some days ago. Dark veins began at the stem, spreading out into a pattern of contrasting, branch-like stripes. She picked it up and turned back to Buzzardcloud, beginning to package up the daisy. “I think some extra activity would be good too,” Hollowchime hummed in thought, and neatly folded the burgloss shut. Skyfeather was kicking well into the hundreds of moons, and much like her name, was always moving like a feather in the wind. An object in motion stays in motion. Hollowchime recalled her apprentice days, and how sore her legs felt after a particularly rough afternoon of restocking. “—Though I know you don’t get the chance to go out too often.” Usually, hyperactive kits would keep Buzzardcloud busy, right? The nursery was a bit on the empty side this season. “Maybe, if you’re up to it, we can forage right outside of camp, towards the Breezy Groves. We can collect comphrey and line your nest with it. It’ll help with soreness, too.” Her suggestion is barely disguised, moreso plainly stated as a reason to spend more time near Buzzardcloud’s comforting aura.
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Posted by STRAY on Sept 11, 2023 4:00:46 GMT
BUZZARDCLOUD A deep, warm purr rumbled in Buzzardcloud's chest. Usually, such a thing would be forced, much like when one deliberately slows their own breathing to subconsciously convince an anxious cat to stop hyperventilating. But Buzzardcloud had always had a soft spot for Hollowchime, and so it came naturally.
She tried not to seem too pleased and nodded, giving the burgloss parcel a curious look. Buzzardcloud knew the very basics of herbalism—just enough to know the most common things that would make a kit ill, what with them sticking everything in their mouths, and the herbs that helped wounded warriors recover faster after a battle. This was much more than the average cat, of course, but everything that came from the healer's den still seemed so foreign to her.
Buzzardcloud looked over her shoulder, remembering the molly that she had asked to take her post outside the nursery. She hummed. Well, young warriors loved every opportunity they got to stay inside of camp. It wouldn't hurt to ask that she stay there a bit longer. Although she hasn't shown interest in becoming the next matriarch, at least I can rest easy knowing I can leave camp once in a while.
"I'd love to go," she said. Then she eyed the burgloss parcel again. "Should I return here to pick up the daisy when we come back to camp? I'm not quite hungry yet—still too early—though I'm sure I will be later."
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Posted by littlewing on Sept 16, 2023 17:43:39 GMT
H O L L O W C H I M E
Ridgeclan healer
Like the various types of sheep that dwell among the mountains, the molly’s mouth opened and closed, like she’s about to add something to their conversation, but decided to keep it to herself. It took her a moment longer than usual to understand Buzzardcloud’s response; Hollowchime’s offer to forage was intended for the vague future, though she did a horrible job conveying it, so of course the offer would be interpreted to mean right here and now. She nodded eagerly, wind chimes clacking together with just as much enthusiasm. Her plan for today was to sort through the loose pile of herbs tucked towards the corner of her den… and going out was the obviously more appealing option. Anything to procrastinate, plus Buzzardcloud would be able to receive some therapeutic exercise. A win-win. And with the way Hollowchime began to move with purpose in her den, picking up the burgloss pack and placing it back near the rest of the daisy, she made it seem like this was her intention from the start, and not a well-received misunderstanding. As much as she enjoyed her healer duties as a whole, she favorited the spiritual aspects of it over the herbalism. “Later,” she confirmed to Buzzardcloud, her tone assured with a gentle, parting pat of the burgloss leaf, as if telling it to stay put. When was the last time she left camp in the company of another? Hollowchime’s tendency to keep to herself often meant solo-outings, unless the leader ordered otherwise. Being alone was nice, the wind was always easier to hear with no distractions, though she’d never say no to a companion, such as a curious apprentice, bored warrior, or a long-time friend. “Did you want to lead the way?” Hollowchime inquired. Comphrey was plentiful during these warmer moons, so they did not have to stick to any particular direction. She also wanted to move at Buzzardcloud’s pace, her own being random, follower-unfriendly zig-zags through the forest depending on what caught her attention.
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Posted by STRAY on Oct 14, 2023 3:41:07 GMT
BUZZARDCLOUD With eyes nearly crinkled shut and completely unaware of Hollowchime's initial confusion, Buzzardcloud nodded. She stood once Hollowchime put the burgloss pack away; as far as where she'd like to go, well. There was nowhere in particular she'd like to see first. It was better, she thought, to avoid something too rigorous, like the hills to the north or, wind forbid, the Rainspine. Unfortunately, the thought came at the cost of a small part of her pride. She's a RidgeClan cat. Climbing is what they're all about.
So she hummed as she slowly set off towards the camp entrance, looking over her shoulder to ensure the healer was following and waving her tail at the warrior she had asked to stand guard. That left one other part of the territory they could wander about. There was the grove, of course, but it had also been ages since Buzzardcloud saw the fields near the PoppyClan border. She said as much to Hollowchime.
"I don't think we'll make our way all the way to the border," She added quickly, though more to herself than to Hollowchime. Then she began mumbling entirely to herself. "It's so strange, the fields are so flat and they look so far from the sky when you're up in the Rainspine... Those poor things, they never get to feel the wind where it's strongest."
Buzzardcloud tutted. Of course, it's probably for the best. PoppyClan cats are so scrawny they'd be blown right off the mountain. She looked back at Hollowchime and gave her a small, sheepish smile. Sorry for going on a tangent. "The Grove is close by and still high enough up to see the fields, so we'll go there?"
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Posted by littlewing on Dec 8, 2023 18:26:00 GMT
H O L L O W C H I M E
Ridgeclan healer
Hollowchime was happy to follow Buzzardcloud’s lead, the younger molly trailing right behind her invisible paw-prints. She shook her head. “No need to go all the way to the border.” Then shortly after, she adds, “I like The Grove more, anyways.” Hollowchime didn’t feel like accidentally stumbling on a Poppyclan patrol— even though the leader seemed more relaxed with her occasional appearance, there was always one warrior that would get excessively uppity about territory crossings; especially the ones her age that still had something to prove. If she could avoid such a pointless confrontation, she would. “I don’t envy their healer. The wind is harder to hear…” Or so she assumed, she’d never consciously tried to listen outside Ridge territory, “And taking care of herbs seems like another chore.” Her nose crinkled at the thought. She never really had a knack for taking care of plants, preferring to harvest what she could find instead of going out of her way to nurture them. Sure, if a particular patch of herbs looked especially dry, she’d bring a barkful of water over to it, but that was the extent of her knowledge.
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