On A Side Note [Tawnyheart-open]

[Spec]

Tawnyheart found the time to bask in the dying embers of sunlight, while the dusk was only moment behind it. While the sun peeked over the horizon in a falling dip, the elderly she-cat's greenish orbs cast one final look at the dying sun before succumbing to the daze that crept over her. With a sigh, she shifted upon her other side, where her left leg would find it most comfortable even though the most snug spot still bit at her aching limb. Dusk was barely upon them when she found she was snoozing peacefully, a twitch of her leg indicating that she was on the brink of consciousness. Her large ears flickered like dying candlelight, alert for any sounds that might catch her interest. A dinner bell perhaps? Just thinking about food made the elder rather hungry. Of course, Tawnyheart would adore going out on her own time, but these warriors sheltered the aging from the dangers outside of camp, so slipping away unnoticed in her condition was next to futile. She dug her front paws deeper into the warmth of her chest, softly rising and falling in her light stupor as she imagined an able warrior, tragedy never reached, as she sunk her fangs into a plump vole or mouse before feasting. Yet this was all fantasy, a reality that a crippled elder and former medicine cat would never see.

A faint breeze awoken her to her sense, raising her head as her bright gaze swept across Meadowclan camp. Most of the warriors were on dusk patrol, and those who weren't were elsewhere, busy as bees; training apprentices, hunting for fresh kill...the list was endless. They were having fun, doing work, while Tawnyheart slept on, nestling her embarrassing leg from view as the smallest task became mundane and difficult for her to accomplish. The smallest tinge of a frown creased her maw, ending curtly as a wide yawn parted her jaws and flashed partially dulled fangs from moons of use. Front legs creeping out from her stomach, she stretched luxuriously, careful not to rouse her left hind as she arched her back, tail lashing once before standing upon her three good legs. As she slowly, and painfully made her way towards the fresh kill pile, she passed a young apprentice, dashing off to bed with his mentor alight and wry in a casual simper. The mentor, at least, dipped his head respectfully at her passing before continuing on his way. This brought the elderly she-cat to smirk, tampered with a wryness mirroring the tom cat's respectful action. She hobbled steadily until she reached her destination, using one of her front paws to carefully sort through the unwanted bits of kill that didn't agree with her stomach. She picked through fowl and hare, finally choosing a meager supply of mouse to quench her appetite that seemed to subside into habit more than need every day."You'll do, then..." She breathed quietly, deciding on eating right beside the fresh kill pile to rest her hind leg. If they hadn't stopped at this land, or if Tawnyheart had made the journey at this age, her leg would simply not allow it. She would have starved or been picked off by a hungry predator like most unfortunately did. Blinking back all signs of thought, she placed a smile on her face and thanked Starclan for the meal before lowering her jaws and tearing into the mouse's tender flesh.

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[Whiskers]

Mistystream had not expected to arrive in camp in time, what with her... unusual exploits today. It was unfortunate that she had neglected her own apprentice to go on her own adventures and she felt guilty for that; though as she stepped into camp now, with soaking paws and twitchy whiskers, she didn't spot Jaypaw and so she couldn't apologize to him. She guessed that he had gone off on the dusk patrol with another group of warriors. Jaypaw was the type to get impatient and when she hadn't showed up after her trip to Streamclan, the tom would have run off with another warrior, and tried to learn from them instead of her. Mistystream didn't mind that. Jaypaw could learn a lot from other warriors. She could only provide him with her basic knowledge of hunting and when it came to fighting, even her own apprentice knew how embarrassed she was of her abilities. She couldn't knock Jaypaw off his feet if she tried. At least she was trying to expand her skills pass the fundamentals. After all, today had been her first attempt at fishing!

It had not gone well though.

On land, she had earned her suffix -stream. She was graceful and truly lovely when she was running. The minute she attempted to fish, however, she became a bumbling fool, splashing about like a terrible two-leg kit with his peculiar arm thingys strapped just below its shoulders. She hadn't gotten close to capturing a fish to bring back to her clan and it had annoyed her thoroughly. How had Rabbitheart done it? He made it seem so easy! She would have to ask him, or any other Streamclan cat, at the next gathering, if she was chosen to go.

Mistystream was hungry now though, having spent her entire day fuming over a stream full of delectable fish that she couldn't get. She marched into camp with an air of frustration and then headed straight for the fresh-kill pile, only stopping once to shake off her wet paws some more. She spotted Tawnyheart up ahead and she reminded herself to act as respectful of she could of the elder. The noble she-cat deserved that.

She bowed her head, perhaps to low, when she arrived at the pile of prey. Sniffing out a rabbit, she suddenly had the compulsion to talk to the she-cat. She acted on that compulsion right away.

"Hello Tawnyheart," Mistystream meowed, her eyes bright and intense as she stared at the she-cat eating her dinner. "Have you ever tried to fish?"

What an icebreaker, right?

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[Spec]

With a partail yawn, the she-cat stiffened as a chill crept over her spine, ending painful to her hips as the movement sent her into a daze. Perhaps she should have yowled for an apprentice or warrior to fetch her something edible from the fresh kill pile, but she really didn't want to trouble them now, not when dusk was nearly upon them. She stubbornly refused, however, to be coddled like a kit, she was a grown feline, experienced and capable, but her constitution reminded ruefully reminded her of her fate. Nothing like demise rounding upon you. It wasn't like Tawnyheart felt betrayed by Starclan and pondered endlessly about why they let this happen to her, one of their most devoted medicine cats, but without her injury, she would have never taken the hard and bumpy road to become one, instead following with a mindless eye towards becoming a warrior. She was lucky. Her paper thin ears swerved at each rustle in the fading light, catching the tiniest motion of cats as they headed off into their respected dens, warriors surrounded by other warriors and apprentices, nestled in between others of their ilk. Yet, in all their company, she was alone; no other elders will be accompanying her back to her den tonight. As a matter of fact, she would have been more comfortable sleeping with the medicine cat, Icetail, her half-niece or even with the queens and their kits in the nursery. But for now, she picked at her quarry, the mouse wedged underneath a still powerful forepaw, a air of serene calm resonating from her frame.

Peeling back the fur, Tawnyheart swallowed both muscle and sinew, whatever she could from the small creature as she slowly satted her hunger. The black and gold dappled she-cat licked her lips, a salmon hued tongue peeking out from her jaws as she gave herself a self satisfied swipe. The mouse's bone glinted below her, the skin still stuck to the ribs, she would have to clean up her prey better in the future. Her gaze lowered as she twisted her head around to relief an itch upon her right shoulder, absently licking and nipping the spot or irritation. She was so preoccupied by it, that she hardly noticed another cat pad up beside her, so when said cat addressed her, the sound brought the elder to full attention, the tips of her fur bristling into wires. Her eyes reeled wildly towards Mistystream's direction, startled to say the least, but once she recognized the silver hued she-cat before her, her fur sank into calm once more."Good evening, Mistystream...You're out late." Her voice was smooth, perhaps still a bit hoarse from napping all day, but a smile slowly crept along the contours of her features, hinting good humor none the least.The young warrior appeared to have something troubling her, her body a clear testament to her assumption. Her thoughts were answered when Mistystream kept talking, inquiring if she had ever fished before. The elder nodded once, lost in thought as she breathed out a drifting laugh from her throat, tail curling over her paws as she carefully sat upon her haunches while tending to her outwardly crippled hind."Back in Forestclan, before...this." She halted in her words, pausing respectfully, but didn't painfully acknowledge her injury and continued solidly."I used to fish every once and a while as an apprentice. Fish tends to disagree with my stomach, now a days, though." Her smile widened faintly, her own snakelike tail gently brushing the young she-cat's shoulder fondly.

[Whiskers]

Mistystream's stomach squirmed inside her, clenching and rolling as the smell of rabbit wafted up to Mistystream's nostrils. It smelled appealing, yet now that Mistystream had brought her mind back to fish (a mistake, a dreadful mistake) she was picturing the slippery scaly creatures instead of the furry piece of prey in front of her. She longed to taste it just once, and it occurred to her she was acting just like Dappledflower had been this afternoon; but Mistystream didn't have the "Oh I'm pregnant and I get cravings" excuse. This was just the ol' "I want something that I can't have" syndrome popping up again. It was one of Mistystream's less desirable traits that she tried to stamp out, but it was surprisingly resilient.

Her grandmother had often lectured her about it as well. Aniela had told her that envy and jealousy were dangerous traits, traits that could destroy a cat. Yet all Mistystream could think about was those fish in the water, swimming about so carelessly and happily. Her grandmother would be ashamed. If she revealed this to Tawnyheart, the old she-cat would probably be disappointed in her as well, even if they didn't know each other that well.

Still, knowing that Tawnyheart had once fished, Mistystream just had to ask. "How did you do it then? Back in Forestclan? Was there some special method... there has to be, I've just spent my afternoon trying to catch a fish and I only succeeded in splashing myself," she sniffed angrily at the memory. "And I tried everything I could think of."

Her claws teased the dirt slightly as her frustration increased. "And I know we're Meadowclan and we're more runners, but Meadowclan cats can learn to fish right? I was down by Streamclan today... with Dappledflower, we had gone to trade some of our prey for some of their fish, since Dappledflower wanted one. When I asked about fishing, one of the Streamclanners just looked at me like I was insane. It's why I just had to try it out! But maybe... maybe..." she licked her muzzle, imagining the taste of fish lingering there, "No! He wasn't right. Any cat can fish as long as they try hard enough. I just need to find out the right way to go about it."

She finally shut her muzzle, and then dipped her head again, realizing that she had just talked the ear off of a respected elder. It wasn't like Tawnyheart asked to hear about every little obstacle Mistystream went through, but she really felt comfortable around her. Maybe it was just because Tawnyheart was elderly like her grandmother, but Mistystream didn't care. Even if Tawnyheart laughed at her, she wouldn't care. At least she got it all out, into the open.

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[Spec]

Tawnyheart watched, eyeing the she-cat with a friendly, open expression as she waited for the young warrior to confide in her. It was rare that one so bold and young ever asked for advice. They were always caught up in their duties or love, rash and fast paced to what needed to be done to ever worry about the ramblings of a probably senile old fool. But...her past as a medicine cat erased that possibility, hoping silently to herself that her fate and dedication to the clans alone would save a welcoming spot in Silverpelt with Starclan at her side when the time came. Then, she knew without any doubt imprinted in her mind, that she would be more of a help to them than ever. After all, as a retired medicine cat, it was only natural for the current elder to hoard these feelings, to help, to aid others even when her leg told her not to, to just lie back and wait in her den for eternal peace while her kin suffered for her. It was simply out of the question. But now, Mistysteam had come to her, looking increasing irritated with her experience. Fishing was a practical art, full of twists and turns and moons of practice before mastery. Tawnyheart, of course, wasn't an expert. She never really got that chance to hown her skills after her accident,and never returned to the river to catch one since (though fish oil was occasionally on her list of ingredients as a medicine cat).

"You must learn to be wary of your mistakes. Learn from them, and with that knowledge, fish will be your prize." The she-cat mewed softly, words lifting from her maw as her ears focused upon the she-cat as she continued, throwing her question after question and subsiding silently into her own mumblings as she concocted her own invisible answers. This she-cat goes a mile a minute! Tawnyheart's inward mrrow shook the edges of her mind, a smile upon her lips as she patiently awaited her turn to address the young warrior. Obviously, she didn't mean to speak so riddle-like to her, but it was one of the curses to becoming as old as she, that or frustratingly curt and cranky with a hiss biting always at the end of your sentences."Well...my mentor was the one who taught me the secrets of the river." She uttered calmly with a light wink."I don't really suppose there is any sort of right way to catch fish, but I thought patience was the best bet - better than splashing around, child." While they had been talking, the she-cat's stomach unleashed another gut wrenching growl, a hiss deep from her bowels. It spoke of food, and conversations seemed to get her belly stirring at the notion. Keenly, she smiled, directing her good nature and natural guidance towards Mistystream, as her golden and green tinged optics leveled with hers. A feathery chuckle escaped her partially parted maw as the elder simply listened and made due to what she was hearing and once more, her words drifted to the young warrior's ears. It seemed Mistystream was quite tightly woven into her own little pickle jar."Streamclan is Streamclan. It's only natural they couldn't imagine a Meadowclanner catching a fish since they think that's their area of expertise. If you're really as adamant about learning as you say, why don't you let an old Tawnyheart tag along with you. I'm sure Cedarstar wouldn't mind me leaving camp as long as you're with me." Unable to hide the excitement that was slowly bubbling over her persona, she knew that this was a rare opportunity for her to get out of camp. She went to the Gatherings every time to talk with the other elders and get the best gossip from the rest of the clans, but even those were only once a moon. It would do her old bones good to be with one so young, especially kind Mistystream.

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[Whiskers]

Mistystream felt a jolt of excitement, much like electricity, shock her awake. Tawnyheart teach her how to fish? It made Mistystream want to dance around the elder and sputter her thanks loudly and obnoxiously. To learn from a cat like Tawnyheart, a cat with experience in both medicine and warrior duties, would not only be informative and useful, but an honor. Mistystream had always admired her elders, and to learn from them... well, it brought back the days she spent with her grandmother training, learning how to hunt and defend herself. Mistystream felt nostalgia creep up on her and it mixed with her enthusiasm. How lucky she was to have this chance.

The only problem that concerned the silver she-cat was Tawnyheart's bum leg, the reason she had had to retire from her warrior duties in the first place. It was worse for the wear now in her old age, dragging the noble she-cat down most days, though Mistystream saw Tawnyheart defy the pain more than once. She was not a cat who liked to give up, who liked to watch others do her work. This was obvious enough. It was a pride much like her own and she understood it, but at the same time, she couldn't help pitying the she-cat for the injury. If she ever hurt her leg, Mistystream knew that she would try as hard as she could to keep her position of warrior, no matter what. No cat liked sitting around all day, getting apprentices to pick ticks off your pelt.

So, it would be the leg that stopped Tawnyheart. The river was far off in Meadowclan territory and Cedarstar might not permit it. Mistystream hoped he did...even if it wasn't neccessarily the best thing for Tawnyheart herself. She needed a mentor for this, and what cat would be better? She couldn't get a Streamclan cat to teach her, could she? She'd be looked down on for that. (Though she still didn't understand why cats couldn't just share their skills with one another.)

"Would you really teach me?" Mistystream asked, soothing the excitement down in her voice so she sounded more "mature" and "warrior-ish." It didn't work; the feeling came bursting out with her next few words. "I hope you can! We do have to ask Cedarstar of course... But... Like you said, he shouldn't say no if you have a warrior with you and it's not like your helpless! You're Tawnyheart!"

The last bit was perhaps too much and it showed just how much Mistystream awed her elders.

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