Medicine Cat Gathering, 2/12/10

[Whiskers]

Finchpaw's attention was diverted momentarily from Crowpaw as he noticed the others beginning the journey across the bridge. Since Badgernose had arrived, it was time to head off to the actual moonglade. Finchpaw's heart sank, and the smile summoned by Crowpaw faltered. No matter how many moons passed, he still felt dread heavy in his heart whenever it was time to take a trip to the moonglade. He should be used to it now, as it was the same experience every single time he went. They would arrive, his fellow medicine cats would quickly fall asleep and he would try to do the same. He would try and try and try, again and again and again. His inability to just fall asleep bothered Finchpaw immensely. Why couldn't he do it? Part of him suspected it was because he was so uptight and nervous. Though he had tried relaxing before, the pressure of trying to relax eventually made everything worse. Finchpaw was close to giving up, if he was honest with himself.

But there was no stopping the trips, so Finchpaw just sighed and followed the medicine cats across the bridge. Crowpaw's voice popped up again and Finchpaw was delighted that his friend had a question for him. In fact, Finchpaw was ecstatic that they were still talking. He hardly ever said a word during these meetings and to have someone to talk with...what a good distraction that would be!

"No, clan rivalries aren't supposed to apply here...but that does not mean these cats don't have their own clan's best interest at heart," Finchpaw answered in a lowered voice. "Through my observations, I can only conclude that our mentors wish for a professional relationship, and nothing else."

Ah, where had he heard the phrase "professional relationship" before? Finchpaw was guilty of the same thing after all; he had asked for such a relationship with Brightnose. But it was curious how the other medicine cats seemed detached from one another as well.

"And I've been training for..." Finchpaw paused to consider the answer. How long had it been? Sometimes it felt like it was his whole life, other times he could scarcely believe he was an actual medicine cat apprentice. "Six moons? I think it's six moons now... the days sort of melt together when you spend them in the medicine cat den."

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[Cloud of Diamonds]

Brightnose decided to engage Lynxpelt in the conversation. Brightnose liked the head medicine cat. He was logical, quiet, and knowledgeable. And his apprentice and hers seemed to be engaged in conversation...

"Have you noticed that the juniper berries seeming to be faring better than usual this moon, Lynxpelt? It is strange for them to be so healthy this late in leaf-bare. Perhaps the lack of much snow has not hampered their existence as much as usual."

It might have been slightly rude of her, but for some reason it felt like the right thing to do to talk to a PineClanner. The calico often wondered why they came anyway, if they did not believe, but she supposed that was their business and she had no right to pry. Perhaps one day they would be comfortable enough to discuss faith on their journey to the MoonGlade in a civilized manner, but unfortunately that time, if it ever came, was almost certainly many moons off.

If only all cats behaved with logic like she did, they would be debating and doing interesting things already.

Ah well. Good things came to those who waited. After all, philosophical investigation was often comprised of many slow days of waiting and watching and judging. But it was invigorating nonetheless.

[glowlynose]

For a few terrifying moments, Crowpaw didn't realize that Finchpaw had spoken. He was frozen in place, lip curling up in disgust, ears pinned back, burning up in the perpetual inferno of his own hatred. He would have to cross this vile thing every single half-moon for the rest of his earthly life, and that realization only piled more wood on the fire. Oh, what he would give to only be big enough, strong enough to cause some damage to those twolegs that had built this. If Crowpaw had had a kingdom, he most certainly would have traded it for the chance to rip those nature-murderers to ribbons. He may have even taken their bones and made a bridge out of them... yes, that would be most fitting. Nothing quite like poetic justice, hey?

Then, Crowpaw realized what he had been thinking. Thinking something was almost as bad as doing it, but he hadn't just thought about his justice. He'd felt the racing pulses of his victims, filthy destroyers of nature, heard their alien twoleg shrieks of pain as his claws had done their work... smelled the tang of their blood. He was just as bad as they were. No longer was his lip curled up in anger. No longer were his hackles bristled, a defense against the synthetic materials that his paws rested upon. Now his tail drooped in shame, and his eyes even lost their sunshine.

He had chosen to live his life fixing things for a reason - to protect himself from the blood of others on his paws. Now they were soaked in it. Medicine was supposed to shield him from anger and hatred, well, from feeling it himself. Guess what? It failed. His last-ditch effort to preserve the innocence of his conscience had... failed. What would Swallowpelt say if she found out what he'd been thinking? What would Finchpaw say? Crowpaw decided not to say anything. Right now, it was better to keep up a ruse than to frighten away his new friend. And so he remained silent about his troubles.

"'Professional relationship?' What's that load of fox-dung? You either have a friendship or you don't. There's no gray area in this case, I'll say." Crowpaw spoke with the same hushed tone that his friend had before. It would be best not to draw too much attention to their conversation. Somebody might be offended if they heard that.

"Six moons? That's a really long time. So you'd know about 'StarClan', wouldn't you? Nobody at home wants to talk about them, but I'm curious. What exactly are... they?" Crowpaw felt secure enough to at least open up the subject of the mysterious clan to his new friend, though it may have been in a whisper. By Gingerstar's whiskers, he hoped that Finchpaw would be able to answer him. Though they may not have meant it to, his clanmates' reluctance to talk about StarClan had only piqued his curiosity even more with each refusal. Besides, StarClan would take his mind off of his... "poetic justice."

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[Whiskers]

Starclan.

Out of all the questions Crowpaw could have asked him, he had asked about Starclan? Finchpaw would have gladly rambled about herbs if he had to. He would have shared what few tips he had with the apprentice. He could have elaborated on the best place to find herbs and he would have even offered to share his herbs with Crowpaw if ever he was in need. For cripes sake, Finchpaw would have talked about life in Fogclan if that was what interested Crowpaw. But he hadn't asked for any of those things-- he wanted to know about Starclan and what was Finchpaw going to tell him?

He couldn't lie. Well, he could try. He had managed to get through six moons of apprentice training lying his tail off (but maybe that was because Brightnose was too involved with her own work to notice). Crowpaw knew nothing of Starclan in the first place, so he would have to accept what Finchpaw said as true. Lying would be very, very easy.

But Finchpaw would rather not do it anyway. So, why not just give Crowpaw the bare facts? Finchpaw could handle that-- Crowpaw was not asking Finchpaw for his specific opinion on Starclan, but just for information.

"Well, the other three clans in the forest believe that Starclan is the place where a cat goes when it passes away, and then watches over the clans from above. They can send prophecies and dreams to the clans, specifically to the medicine cats," said Finchpaw matter-of-factly. "Of course, Pineclan cats don't believe in any of that, right? Though I don't quite understand why they would avoid talking about it completely then...I'm surprised you did not have any idea of what Starclan is until tonight."

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