Age Is Just A Number

[Slug]

Mice. They were storming through the forest, holding pointed red objects, their tails arrowed and little horns adorned to their head. As they raced, charging, their battles cries ringing through the trees, Patch-heart watched from the branches high above the ground, jaw hanging. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Had she gone delusional? Insane? And since when did mice walk up-right? Suddenly, a sick, cracking noise was heard and the branch broke, Patch-heart tumbling down, down, and down twisting this way and that, trying to stop her old self from falling, but it was far too late. The deed was done. She was dead the second the branch broke, the little mice holding up their pitch-forks and laughing, pointing them skyward at the falling she-cat. Patch-heart screwed her eyes shut, not daring to witness herslef be impaled...

With a merrow! Patch-heart jerked herself awake, eyes wild and pelt ruffled, heaving breaths sucking in delicious, holy air! "J-just a dream, old gal'." Patch-heart wheezed to herself, licking her fur down shakily. "Just a dream." Patting herself mentally on the back for composing herself quickly, she muttered "I shouldn' have eatn' dat mouse." Patch-heart rose to her paws, bones squeaking and popping. Patch-heart streatched, grinning to herself as more bones cracked. Ah, how she loved that sound!

With that done, the Pineclanner toddled out of the Elders den, yawning. Brrr! The half-melted snow was still cold! Drats!! Shaking her paws, Patch-heart hurried herself with the speed of an apprentice toward a clearing where there was no snow, and sat down there with a humph, curling her tail swiftly around her paws. The sky, Patch-heart noted, was a soft peach color, the sun just a baby on the tree littered horizen, the firey orb barely seen through the trunks and Camp bramble. She smiled to herself, the clouds making odd shapes. It was so peaceful durring the morning. No apprentices, no warriors, and no leader to merrow up her tree and annoy her.

Patch-heart grinned, chipped fangs yellow under the sun. Oh, it was going to be a good day indeed!

[roscoe]

Soft, shuffling sounds poured out from the Medicine Cat den. The smell of various herbs wafted out from behind the sounds. A few dry leaves were piled at the entrance to the den, as if they were to be taken somewhere. Inside the den worked a silvery-gray she-cat, her teal colored eyes focused on nothing but the assortment of herbs that sat in piles.

While the she-cat pose showed she was relaxed -- maybe a little too focused, but relaxes -- her tail was raised high above the ground, held almost straight up. The whispy gray fur that hung off of it moved slightly at the breeze that broke into the den.

Teal eyes brightened in shock as the Medicine Cat scented more stale herbs. With a huff, Bluestream picked up the herbs in her mouth and carried them to the pile outside the den, dropping them in a not-so-careful manner. The pile was much larger now, the musty scent of the old plants bugging the she-cat's nose. Growling every so slightly, Bluestream picked up the pile, careful not to drop a single one, and strode off to the far corner of camp, where the cats made dirt.

She quickly dropped the herbs by the corner and hurried away from the stink. Luckily the scent of fresh herbs from the stores clung to her fur, not permitting a single trace of the nasty dirt smell to linger.

But just in case she gave her fur a few quick licks. As her tongue rasped over the soft, gray fur, Bluestream spotted Patch-heart and wondered what the she-elder was doing alone. Without glancing at the Medicine den (her work was almost done anyway) the she-cat padded over to the elder, a soft smile on her face. "Good morning, Patch-heart."

[Slug]

Patch-heart's old nose twitched as the scent of herbs wafted over to her. She knew that smell all too well. When the Elder had been younger-- a warrior-- she had gotten into many border skirmishes, started by yours truly. Patch-heart sighed, shoulders slumping. Those were the golden days.

"Good morning, Patch-heart."

Patch-heart nose twitched again, and she turned, a crooked, yellow-tooth smile on her muzzle. "Aye, 'ello tharr, Bluestream, youngin'. What wakes ya' up so earleh at dis time?" She quizzed, curious. Running a paw over her ear, Patch-heart yawned, tail quivering and back tensing at the action. Something popped, and the elder gave a low groan. "Aye, Bluestream, I've been meanin' to ask ya' about me back." Patch-heart added. "Been botherin' me since yesterday!" She wheezed a short cackle, kneeding the cold ground gently with her dull claws.
--x

ooc: Sorry it's short. :C

[Rolo]

((I sincerely love Patch-heart))

Having wandered away from the main source of conversation in the camp, feeling it was better to leave the patrol-sorting to the younger cats, No-ears wandered towards the medicine cat den. Scents of various herbs hung in the air around this place already, almost as if it had been used as a place to keep medicinal herbs for seasons. It was odd to think, therefore, that this place had only become a medicine cat den a few moons ago.

As No-ears wandered past, he spotted a small blue she-cat. Good, Bluestream was about.

Good to see that the medicine cats are not as lazy as the warriors. He thought.

The old tom noted that Patch-heart was with him... perhaps complaining about an ailment old age brought.

"Greetings" He mewed politely, his voice rasping slightly, "And how might you two be today?"

((My apologies for the first draft of this I posted it in a rush.))

[Crowzerplorodon]

"Doing fine, thanks," Jaggedclaw grunted, following behind the other elder as they moved away from the hustle and bustle of the real clan work. His ears flattened slightly as he watched the warriors go about their work. A tinge of pain shot from his claws, reminding him why he could not be with those warriors now, working for his clan.

Green eyes narrowed as he took a seat by Patch-heart, nodding a greeting to the elder before giving his front left paw a few gentle, slow licks. His eyes caught sight of the lovely Bluestream nearby, and he scolded himself for not noticing earlier. With a rought sigh, the gray and white tom cat turned to face the medicine cat.

"Good morning Bluestream," he said with the most formal tone he could musters. Trying not to sound weak he added: "Do you have anything for my... claws?" The last word was grounded out, as if his teeth locked it from escaping. "It's... achy today."

[roscoe]

"Aye, 'ello tharr, Bluestream, youngin'. What wakes ya' up so earleh at dis time? Aye, Bluestream, I've been meanin' to ask ya' about me back. Been botherin' me since yesterday!"

Bluestream sat through the elder's words, nodding when the she-cat finished. "What wakes me is the sun, Patch-heart. I try to be up with the dawn so all my work can be done. Now, how exactly is your back hurting? Is it simply achy, like the moss you slept on was wet? Or is more of a injury bother?"

Her tail wrapped around her, covering her dainty paws as yet another elder approached them, one more following behind. She watched the two toms approach and spoke pleasantly as came. "I am well, thank you No-ears. And yourself?"

Jaggedclaw's poorly disguised words made her shoulders tense slightly, Bluestream remembered why she didn't like the elder much. If only he would drop his pride and ask for help without the strain that laced his every word. "Of course Jaggedclaw, I will fetch something once I know what Patch-heart needs."