To Wonder at the Ways of Life

[Cloud of Diamonds]

Falconpaw

It was unbelievable! Just perfectly and wholly unfair that he'd barely taken five pawsteps over the border and some filthy PineClanner had raked his ears for doing so and taken the mouse he'd been about to catch. The brown tabby apprentice had slunk back to camp, ears burning, and hoping no cat had seen him. This was quite a blow to the proud apprentice's ambitions, sure enough. Falconpaw thought he would just die if Russetfang, or worse, his mother, heard about this. Cinderpaw would probably just laugh, but the other apprentices, all of them older, would be sure to scorn him. Rushing quickly through the bramble-encircled camp, the young tom's legs sped him to the place he needed to go: the medicine den. StarClan willing, the calico medicine cat would be there to treat him. Shoulders hunched, he lowered his head and flattened his ears as he went so no cat would try to ask him questions, with luck. Normally he wouldn't have crossed the scent line, but with leaf-bare approaching the Clan needed every bit of fresh-kill it could get and the mouse had come from FogClan anyway, so in his mind it was justifiable. He finally came to Brightnose's bush, exhausted. "Um....Brightnose?" Panting, he hoped she would answer quickly.

Brightnose

The tri-colored she-cat was interrupted from her mind's daily wanderings by a quiet, desperate voice from the front of her den. She knew that mew, didn't she? Yes...a young tom....Falconpaw! That was right. One of the newest apprentices of FogClan, she remembered. She quickly raised her haunches, and, blinking her pale amber eyes, nodded and bade him come in. He did so, with slow, tired steps, and she noticed as his head drooped that his tall ears had bloody marks on them. Her eyes widened. She longed to begin her customary flow of questions but knew it would be better to help the poor striped tom first. She quickly brought out a pile of moss and hastily organized it into a pile for him to lie on. As he slumped down on it, she realized she didn't know where her apprentice was, and she needed his help. Finchpaw had gone out earlier....he should be back by now, surely. She paused for a moment, but then swiftly padded outside to grab a wad of margiold in her jaws. Once she'd come back inside, she tried to put aside her worries about the ginger and white tom, and focused on taking care of her patient. "So, Falconpaw, how did you hurt your ears?"

OOC: Whiskers, you can have Finchpaw enter...somehow. -shot for lame posts-

[Whiskers]

ooc// To make it easier on myself, I’m going to say that this rp happens after my FinchxFrost rp. xP Just to…sorta keep you updated there.

Finchpaw had most likely wasted enough time by now. The young tom had slipped out come early morning, leaving the camp altogether with not even a word to his mentor. Things were still uneasy between them and Finchpaw was beginning to find the tension ridiculous. He also hated how, whenever he was in that stupid den, he had the urge to claw at the walls or hiss and spit like a temperamental kitten. This urge had swelled up in him only recently, and he credited it to Brightnose. The look of her boiled his blood sometimes. She was the symbol, it seemed, of his secret.

But now, he felt calm, relaxed…happy. His trip through the woods, his meeting with Frostpaw, it had been so cathartic an experience that he almost didn’t mind heading back to camp. Of course he would have rather spent the whole day in the forest, but this was not an option for him. So here he was, striding back into camp with a vole in his mouth. It had been a beautiful morning.

And now this vole would be his peace offering to Brightnose. He had brought her plenty of herbs lately (it’s all he really did) and so this would hopefully mean more to her. It was a vole he caught himself after all, and though she might accuse him of wasting his time…certainly she could…possibly appreciate the effort he put in? If this made things even the tiniest bit easier between them, then Finchpaw would be relieved. He was too tired with the awkwardness. And Brightnose, though pushy and mousebrained and thoroughly maddening, did deserve more than a cold shoulder. She deserved a professional relationship with her apprentice.

He entered the den cautiously anyway, and set down the vole, his ears pressed to his head.

”Brightnose I hope you’re—“ he froze mid-sentence as he noticed the other cat in the den. A patient. Instantly his mind screamed at him to bolt away. Perhaps she hadn’t noticed him yet, he could still escape, he wouldn’t have to help! Just inch out of the den like you were never here… she’ll never suspect a thing.

No, too late. Brightnose’s eyes had met his. No running now. He straightened himself up and plastered a docile smile on his muzzle, and he looked toward the patient. He was very short compared to Finchpaw himself, with fluffy brown fur. Finchpaw almost couldn’t place a name when he remembered the ceremony only a while ago. This was the new apprentice that Firepaw liked to make fun of! ”Falconpaw. Pleasure to see you here,” Finchpaw greeted the young apprentice, pitying the young tom. It was hard enough being a new apprentice, but with an injury? The others would pick on him for sure, and Finchpaw could guess that Firepaw would lead the onslaught of mockery.

[/size]

[Cloud of Diamonds]

Falconpaw

He groaned, trying not to let too much sound escape from his muzzle, but still, he felt he must or yowl in distress. The apprentice had never felt pain like this before, though he'd been told about it. In his mind he'd always thought he would be able to take it, would be able to keep on fighting. But never had he expected the first blow on him to come so soon. Maybe it's what I deserve, he thought. After all, I was breaking the warrior code...he squirmed slightly at the memory. But I had a good reason! He argued to himself. The best of reasons! He dimly heard pawsteps outside of the haze of fog that seemed to be in his head. He realized it was Finchpaw when the older tom spoke. Falconpaw almost felt like spitting at him. Mousebrain. Why would any medicine cat say it was a pleasure to see a cat in their den? No cat wanted to go here. Unless Finchpaw actually liked Falconpaw. However, as they'd never met, this was hardly a possibility. An unexpected touch on his tender ears made him wince, face screwed up, before he could conceal it. The short-furred calico was putting spiderwebs on his wounds, though at first he hadn't realized that was what they were. After a few moments, however, he recognized the thin, light-feeling threads soaking up the red liquid on his ears. The pain hadn't lessened, but at least his head fur didn't have blood dripping down into it anymore. He sighed, and moved slightly as he tried to get more comfortable.

Brightnose

The medicine cat was just about to turn to fetch spiderwebs for Falconpaw's bleeding, but stopped at the sight of her apprentice padding in to the den. She was happy to see him, and the vole he was carrying made her even more so. But, as usual, she could not show it. And it's silly anyway, she thought. Why do I have these ridiculous feelings of companionship with him? Yes, he's my apprentice, we're FogClanners, we're StarClan believers, we're somewhat alike in personality...but other than what, what in StarClan's name do we have common? Nothing, of course. And if we do, it doesn't matter. Medicine is more important anyway. She contented herself with a brisk, "Hello, Finchpaw. Glad to see you're back, and with prey too. Could you fetch me some marigold while I put spiderwebs on his wounds?" This being said, the she-cat quickly stepped in front of the ginger and white tom to nose quickly and tear out a wad of white material from the rock beside her den. Only a few seconds later, the tricolored philosopher was pressing the webs onto the small tom's ears. Satisfied for the moment, she sat near his head in the far side of the den, tail over her soft paws. "If you're not in too much pain, Falconpaw, would you please tell me how you got injured?"

[Whiskers]

Finchpaw looked at Brightnose, barely hearing her words, as he was already lost in his thoughts. His ears flickered though, and he caught the word “marigold.” Finchpaw was a bright enough cat to understand what this meant and so he nodded and walked fully into the den, leaving his vole to wait until Brightnose had her paws free. Finchpaw was just happy that she didn’t take this moment to test Finchpaw—he would fail it completely. Well, not completely. He knew how to stop bleeding (any mousebrained cat could do that) and he knew what marigold was used for. But making the poultice might be tricky. Half the time, during Brightnose’s lessons, Finchpaw just zoned out and dreamt of going outside.
He really should pay attention though. Finchpaw had to admit, he found medicine interesting, but not particularly engaging. At least he had found the time to memorize his herbs, and could now recite them at any moment. So he was not a complete slacker. Finchpaw had even made mental notes on where herbs grew when he was out and about today.

But actual application was still going to present itself as a challenge. Finchpaw avoided the den so much that he had only treated a few patients in his entire medicine cat career. This would be his…oh…fourth? He was very much unprepared and uncomfortable with the process, and he didn’t like dealing with the patients and their pain. He normally just watched. Perhaps he would get better at it though.

Finchpaw fetched the marigold as he was told and dropped it at Brightnose’s feet, before he looked at the injury on the little apprentice’s ears. It honestly wasn’t too bad, though he would probably have permanent nicks in his ears. That’s what he got for… Finchpaw frowned then played his favorite game: Predict the situation.

Judging by the cuts (they were ragged and not very precise) it was made by a cat—a fully grown warrior, most likely from the enemy clan. Had he been involved in a border brawl? There was no fur in between his claws, so Finchpaw ruled out the possibility, plus cats usually came with more injuries from that.
Finchpaw sniffed the air and was put out to find that the scent of herbs was too overwhelming. Finchpaw could not identify the scent of the enemy cat. So it was just a quick attack, possibly because of prey?

”Got in a skirmish, did you?” Finchpaw guessed and he smiled at the foul-faced Falconpaw. He expected that, in the next two seconds, he would receive an in-depth answer.

[/size]

[Cloud of Diamonds]

Falconpaw

Pure annoyance as concentrated as a claw swipe poured from Falconpaw's very pores. Was this cat stupid? Wait....stupid...ginger fur....Firepaw! He dimly remembered that the two were brothers, his mother had told him long ago. No wonder he was disliking Finchpaw so much. His brother was the biggest mouse-brain ever born. Amber eyes narrowed, ears burning, he opened his mouth to spit a retort but then the patient, inquiring words of the medicine cat entered his ears. He'd much rather answer her instead of him.

Altering his gaze, he tried to push his anger to the back of his mind and instead put on a sorrowful, pleading look, turning to the-wait. Where was-oh. With a yellow flower in her mouth, he saw. Before he knew it, she'd chewed it up and and prodded him to move his head so she could apply it. With a small sigh of relief he shifted his heavy head so his ears were upwards. He closed his eyes, remebering how drained of energy he was. But not so drained as to not be able to answer a question. Another small burst of pain had come when the plant mush had put on him. He did suppose Brightnose dese,rved to know, though he could care less if Finchpaw wanted to hear.

"Yeah, m'ears....I s'pose you both want to know how they got all bloody. Well, I was hunting this mouse, see, 'nd I'd just baaarely crossed the border and all of a sudden, this rotten PineClanner sneaks up on me and takes my mouse, as well scrapin' m'ears! I'd barely put a paw over da' line, for StarClan's sake! I guess PineClan must've needed it more, or StarClan wouldn't have let that filthy non-believer take it from me. 'Least, that's what Birchtail always told me." The tabby tom was slightly ashamed of his slipping speech, but he was trying to relax, to fight off the pain, so he figured he could get by with it just this once. He was sure the two cats would agree with him on what he'd said.

Brightnose

The she-cat was a bit surprised and slightly concerned about the fact that Finchpaw had dropped the herb at her paws instead of applying it himself. She'd showed him how to do it at least four times. But there would be time to worry about that later. Now, she merely bent down her neck, picked up the yellow-colored flower in her mouth, and began to chew it. The familiar taste spread over her tongue. In a few moments it was in a pulp, and ready to be spread onto the brown apprentice's ears.

She made him move slightly and bent down again to lick it onto him, trying to be gentle but knowing it would sting Falconpaw a little. The calico tasted the drying blood as she lapped the poultice onto him, and noticed the small, jagged tears in the delicate flesh. After she'd finished licking the healing flower onto him, he seemed to want to sleep. But apparently that was not the case. The broad-shouldered tom began to talk, explaining how he'd aquired the gashes. Brightnose listened with increasing disdain, trying not let her distaste show on her face. She realized, with a feeling of grim determination, that she must correct this misguided young FogClanner's views.

Speaking in a clear, cold, mew she said, "It doesn't matter if you took one step over the line or fifty, Falconpaw. Trespassing is trespassing. Admittedly, you did have a somewhat good reason, but still, you broke the warrior code. But that is hardly the worst of your crimes. I don't want to ever, ever hear you call a PineClanner a "filthy nonbeliever". They may not share our faith, but it makes them no worse than us. Hatred of a cat because of what they believe is not a good reason. I can understand why you hate that PineClanner, but you have no reason, as far as I know, for hating the rest of his Clan."

[Whiskers]

This young Falconpaw was a hothead.

Finchpaw nearly laughed aloud at his observation-- which he made from the way Falconpaw's tone mirrored his own brother's. If his back had been turned, Finchpaw would have sworn he heard Firepaw's harsh meow instead of the younger, befouled apprentice in front of him. If only Firepaw had reached out to Falconpaw in the beginning, instead of alienating him with his jests and sneers. They could have made...wonderful friends. But hotheads were either the best of buddies or the worst of foes, and with their ego and temperament, there was no hope for improvement once the status was set.

His words hadn't insulted Finchpaw at all. It was expected behavior. He didn't bat an eyelash, flinch a muscle, or react in the slightest. The ginger-and-white tom kept sorting herbs (more like resorting, he had sorted them earlier and so this was him killing time), half of his attention on his mentor and the patient.

Finchpaw only did react when he heard Brightnose's reaction to Falconpaw's story. His head swung around, and he stared at the medicine cat quizzically for a few moments. She wasn't a complete mousebrain, he realized. Unlike half of the cats in Fogclan, Brightnose-- a fairly religious cat, being involved with Starclan and all-- was not prejudice against Pineclan cats for their lack of faith. Finchpaw had always believed that Brightnose would be uptight about Starclan. It was practically in their job description after all, to believe and enforce that belief, as medicine cats could be viewed as "bridges" to Starclan. It was emphatically important to have a strong connection.

Despite this, Brightnose was accepting. Kind. Smarter than his father. She recognized that a lack of faith didn't necessarily mean a lack of a moral compass.

He looked away and tended to his work, though now he was paying special attention to where this conversation could go. Maybe he'd jump in. Maybe he'd say something. Maybe, maybe, he could be brave.

[/size]

[Cloud of Diamonds]

Falconpaw

If anyone had managed to record the brown tabby's expression somehow, there's no doubt it would have become famous. Utter disbelief mixed with revulsion and anger all wrote themselves plain as day on Falconpaw's face. All this was topped off by an open mouth and a high mew, quite out of character, of "Whaaaaat?" This was unbelievable. Disloyal, even. How could a FogClanner - a medicine cat - say such a thing? If it were almost anyone else Falconpaw would have snorted in a superior way and called them a mouse-brain.

But this...this was far worse than just any Clanmate saying those...things Brightnose had meowed. He couldn't even bear to call them words, for fear that that would make them real, spoken, tangible. Irrational, yes, but wasn't he always? The calico was supposed to be their connection to StarClan, for...um, StarClan's sake! Exactly!

Falconpaw wondered why they didn't smite her where she stood.

She clearly needed to learn a lesson or two. StarClan had probably only let her stay in FogClan this long because of her healing abilities. And also...little did she know it, but the herb-using she-cat had struck the apprentice's very core. The beliefs that he had been raised on since he was three moons old. The structure of the life he so loved. And the faint, whispering possibility that his mother had lied to him...No. Birchtail would not have lied, could not have lied. Didn't he see proof of that every day, in his Clanmates, in the life he lived which was so clearly blessed by the ancestors? In his youth, admittedly, he'd had faint doubts about the ancestors' power, but he'd learned the truth. Well enough to know that Brightnose was lying to her soul.

These shameless untruths she told...didn't she know that all who denied the power of greatest good were the enemy? It was time he corrected her. "But, Brightnose...you know how good StarClan is. You know what they do for living cats, how could you deny them so?" His tone was slow, heavy, almost pleading. Unusual, but then her...creations...had pierced his heart so. Not to mention his pride. He didn't even want to think about what she'd said about him denying the warrior code.

Brightnose

She barely noticed when her apprentice turned to look at her, swift as it was. Besides, all her passion and attention was focused on the cat before her. This was something she had not felt or done for a long time, and if she was perfectly honest (as she usually was) she enjoyed it a bit. Debating. One of her rarely practiced but much-honed skills.

Unknown to any but herself, she occasionally conducted conversations with herself inside her head. Poor Falconpaw. She almost pitied him. He would have no idea what had hit him. The medicine cat would destroy his pathetic defense easily. Not that she needed to, it was quite unnecessary really. But some small, cruel part of her would delight in seeing him squirm - or froth - after she spoke.

Oh, she was blessed all right.

StarClan would be pleased that she was giving out a dose of good hard logic to this clueless tom. After all, ones as wise as them knew it was sometimes necessary to correct over-enthusiasm, even in themselves. If cats got too dependent on StarClan, it was Brightnose's belief that they would stop helping. Cats should be able, for the most part, to solve things by themselves.

I did, after all, and look how well I turned out. Intelligent, independent, and a good medicine cat. She gave a self-satisfied twitch of her whiskers. Time to start. "Denial, you say? How do I deny them? Not hating PineClan doesn't mean I don't believe in them. Of course I do. Hatred is merely a refuge for the shallow-minded, Falconpaw."

She said this in a particularly irritating, haughty better-than-thou sort of mew.

"Yes, StarClan is good, but because of how good they are they understand that some cats, naturally, won't believe in them for some reason or another. So, they know it, and aren't upset. I have talked to them of this matter, and they have told me that PineClan's disbelief is perfectly natural and acceptable, so you can rest your brain." This was a lie, actually, but Falconpaw didn't need to know that. "Who knows, perhaps StarClan's power appears to them another way, even. Or maybe, StarClan exist for us but don't for them. Questions like these are fascinating, are they not?" Brightnose had to restrain herself from grinning in pleasure.

[Whiskers]

Finchpaw listened to Brightnose with his eyebrows raising in question. While Brightnose made a good point, some of the things she said...were sort of mousebrained. And certainly the tone she was using would not teach Falconpaw anything but to fight back with his eyes shut tight. Falconpaw had a right to believe what he wanted of course, but if Brightnose wanted Falconpaw to be more open-minded, she needed to approach with a kinder tone. This was the same with Frostpaw of course, but she would never change her ways-- and sometimes her harsh truth did force ears and eyes open. Sometimes.

Finchpaw wanted to open his mouth and question a few of Brightnose's comments. Like, why wouldn't Starclan be saddened to learn of Pineclan's disbelief in them? If Starclan accepted their disbelief, wouldn't this be condemning them to the Dark Forest, as Finchpaw's father taught him? And it was rather blatant and unnecessary to say that Starclan didn't exist to Pineclan, because of course they didn't exist for Pineclan. Starclan was only real if a cat gave them the substance to be real. Then again, the whole topic of Starclan was rather subjective as each cat had their own view of it. Belief was varying in all clans; it was hard to find a set standard to base questions on. For instance, if Birghtnose did not believe in the Dark Forest then perhaps Starclan accepting Pineclan's atheism wouldn't be too outlandish to her. It would mean that no punishment would come out of their disbelief, so then...hypothetically, Starclan wouldn't really push for Pineclan to find faith in them.

And disbelief wasn't natural in this forest, no. In this forest, disbelief was unnatural. More cats believed in Starclan than did not believe. So Starclan should still find Pineclan a worrisome rarity. Right?

Finchpaw rolled these questions around in his mind and wondered if he should even bother to say them out loud. To engage in a debate about Starclan with his mentor... it seemed too dangerous, though very tantalizing. In the end, though, there would be a standstill. That was nearly certain.

Finchpaw lifted his eyes from his herbs and they settled on Brightnose's face again. He would stay quiet. She wasn't giving him much of an opening anyway, so it was best to see how the conversation unfolded.

[/size]

[Cloud of Diamonds]

Falconpaw

This was core betrayal! Or at least, so he thought of what the young tom could understand. Most of it just seemed like gibberish. Well, at least she isn't breaking the code, part of him observed. That helped him to calm down a little. True, belief in StarClan wasn't part of the code - or so Russetfang had taught him. It was just highly encouraged. But that doesn't matter! Part of him cried. This is FogClan! We are the strongest believers! I mean, didn't great warriors like Rowanheart and Volepelt think so? There was no way they - and his mother - could be wrong. Brightnose must be deluded.

He narrowed his amber eyes, wincing slightly from the receding pain his tall ears. She'd insulted him. Treated him like an ignorant kit. There was no forgiveness for such an act, and were she not a medicine cat he would fight her right now and then! Of course, it also didn't help that Finchpaw was here...huh. Well, hopefully Finchpaw knew what a loony his mentor was. Perhaps not disliking PineClan didn't mean disloyalty to StarClan, but..PineClan were still StarClan's enemy, in a sense. They didn't appreciate the paws that guided them through their lives, and they should be chastised harshly for their ungratefulness.

Of course, most of this wasn't entirely his own thoughts and was mostly repeated from stuff the older warriors had said. But who cared? If adult warriors of his own Clan said it, it must be true. So many cats couldn't be wrong.

Perhaps Brightnose had talked to StarClan..but they'd probably just told her what she wanted to hear. Yeah. He wasn't going to even bother try understanding the other stuff.

"Whatever." the striped tom sighed.

Brightnose

A pleased expression showed itself on the gold-and-white face. Falconpaw seemed to have stumped by her irrefutable logic. Maybe that'll teach him not to be so rash. Young toms, think they know everything. Well, maybe not Finchpaw. But then, he's no ordinary young tom. He's my apprentice. Hmmmm...speaking of which, she should review and test him soon. It had been a while.

She turned her head slightly to look at the striped ginger and white tom. Hmm. Was he still working with those herbs? What did he think of our conversation, I wonder? Questions like these presented themselves slowly in the she-cat's mind.

Surely it wouldn't hurt simply to ask him what he thought of all this? But then a memory replayed itself in her mind...Finchpaw saying something sarcastic about StarClan as he went up a tree...well, maybe now was the time to make amends for that statement. Whatever he believed, they had only a professional relationship now, so she would accept whatever answer he gave on the subject with courtesy. So she told herself.

Her hazel eyes blinked as she opened her mouth to ask,

"Finchpaw, what is your opinion on this debate? You do not have to answer, but from one medicine cat to another it would be interesting for me to hear."

[Whiskers]

Finchpaw’s eyes flickered down to his feet as Brightnose turned on him. Of course he would not be spared for long, from this conversation. It was natural, this curiosity all medicine cats possessed. And the issue of Starclan was something discussed often, and while Finchpaw had managed to make himself scarce whenever these topics came up, now there was no escape. He could either deny Brightnose, and that would do nothing but make her think he had something to hide, or he could answer her.

So answering her it is!

Alright…just…remember, you’re treading on thin ice, he told himself cautiously as he lifted his gaze again. He wore a blank look. Very…professional, if anything else, and a perfect, indestructible shield. You can get through this without lying. As long as you’re careful.

“I think that Pineclan has the right to believe whatever they want,” he looked at Falconpaw with this next comment, but tried to avoid sounding like he was lecturing the apprentice. “After all, it is not belief—or the absence of belief—that makes a cat evil. Pineclan cats are just like many other clan cats, with only a few minor changes in the way they run their camp. I’m sure when you go to a gathering you’ll meet some and see for yourself.” Finchpaw said to Falconpaw.

“And, from a warrior standpoint, we need to treat them as equals in order to be prepared for future conflicts. If we underestimate them merely because they do not have Starclan on their side, or because they’re a clan of “dirty nonbelievers,” we could suffer from it.”

Finchpaw finished organizing the poppy seeds and then he turned to his mentor. ”By the way… if you wish to understand a nonbeliever, you should ask one…not Starclan.”

[/size]