[Dancing on a volcano] FinchxIce

[Whiskers]

The elder's den stared at Finchpaw threateningly.

He was paused outside it, hesitating, reluctant to enter the dark place. It was menial tasks like these that made Finchpaw really really really dislike the medicine cat apprentice thing.

Lately he had been doing splendidly-- he had all his herbs downpat, finally. Any herb, any poultice, you name it, he could spit it back. It had helped a lot and, actually, medicine was a lot more interesting now that he knew what he had to do most of the time. Also, experimenting with the herbs was a blast, but he only did that when Brightnose was around. She would call such...ah...free-spirited expression 'illogical' and a 'waste of time and resources' probably. Then again, it was kind of a waste of resources, valuable resources, that could really help cats. He hadn't thought of that before.

Anyway, the point was, he was gaining some sort of enjoyment from his occupation, but it was these errands that Brightnose forced him to run that gnawed at his brain. He was supposed to bring this certain poultice to a certain elder. It was a simple one that was made to help soothe sore joints and Finchpaw had been making it since day one of medicine training, but it wasn't going to do any good on the elder it was meant for: Icethroat.

It was sad, it really was, but Icethroat's backlegs...the problems weren't the joints. Brightnose knew that surely, and yet she insisted on 'giving it a go' and seeing if it 'made things better.' She was nothing if not brave, Finchpaw would give her that, only she wasn't the one that would have to go applying it. It was him who would be rubbing the moss up and down the joints of the acerbic Icethroat, as she snapped at him. He only hoped the mouse he brought as well would calm her down long enough for him to do his task and then hindtail it outta there, before she bit off his ears.

He brought it on himself though. Now that he was trying, Brightnose was giving him more responsibility. Though Finchpaw still thought she was just doing this to him because she wasn't brave enough to face Icethroat herself. Oh well!

With a deep breath, Finchpaw pushed into the den, nudging the little mouse along the ground through first (carrying it in his mouth would have been too much). He dropped the poultice beside it.

"Hey, Icethroat," he greeted casually, and then added, hesitantly and half-jokingly, "I bring gifts?" He looked down at the meager mouse. He wished he had hauled reinforcement in the den instead.

[Poizuun]

icethroat

Today was probably not a very good day to bother Icethroat. Well, any day is not a very good day to bother Icethroat, but today was especially bad. The elder had taken it upon herself to try and groom her tangled and matted white fur. However, being unable to control the back half of her body and keep it still in order to clean properly. Her tongue just barely swiped through one mat before her lower half rolled limply to the side, bringing the upper half with it. With a growl, the young cat picked herself up and tried a new position, hurriedly chewing through mats and dirt before she, again, lost control.

Finally giving up, Icethroat settled on her side, back facing the opening of the den, not expecting any company in the first place. But was she wrong. Her good ear swivelled backward at the sound of her name. She turned the same good eye toward the source and saw Finchpaw standing there with a mouse and a poultice at his paws. Instantly her visible eye narrowed and she "stood" on her two front paws, dragging her back end in a circle to face him full-on. Gifts? Instantly she was wary, not believing that anyone would really bring her gifts. Again she looked at the things at his paws and realized they were for her. The poultice was from Brightnose, obviously. The medicine cat was hell-bent on finding some way to "fix" Icethroat's hind legs, but she had accepted that they would never work properly again. But then she looked at the mouse and her ears laid back, fixing her angry eyes on Finchpaw again.

"If I wanted a mouse I'd go out and catch one myself." She snapped, hoisting herself up onto her feet, hind legs wavering and twisting under the weight of her body. Her tail swung about half-heartedly in an attempt to keep her balance, but it didn't do much. Her hips still swung too far and dropped to the floor of the den. Though she denied the mouse, she really needed it. Beneath her thick coat, she was extremely underweight, always refusing any help or offers of food from other cats. "And if I needed a poultice, I'd go an ask Brightnose myself." She took a shaky few steps forward, half-dragging her hind paws until she was just about in Finchpaw's face. "And if I needed an apprentice intruding in my den, then I'd ask him to do so. Leave me alone."

[Whiskers]

At least Icethroat had responded according to character. Finchpaw had prepared himself from the begging for hissing, snarling, snarking, insulting and the possibility of claws. So not a flicker of emotion, a dot of annoyance, colored Finchpaw's features. He simply grinned, kind of like an idiot. Which was easy, considering he was an idiot.

But Finchpaw wasn't prepared enough, because now that he was in the den, faced with the impossible Icethroat, he realized he didn't know how to actually complete his mission. She would fight him, tooth and claw, the entire time. The thought was daunting and he thought about just walking out, telling Brightnose to do it if she really wanted-- no.

No.

What was he thinking? He couldn't keep taking the easy way out when something got too hard for him to handle. He had finally and painstakingly memorized all those herbs, hadn't he? He had learned how to prepare nearly all of the various medicinal poultices, yes? He could heal cuts and scrapes, he could soothe joints and ease a cough. He could smooth rough pads, remove ticks from pelts and he could bring a fever down. Turning back now that he, Finchpaw, had an actual patient of his own, would throw all that stuff away, stuff he had finally conquered whether he wanted to or not. He was a damn medicine cat. He may not be a very good one, but he was something and he was going to apply the useless poultice to Icethroat's legs, whether she wanted him to or not!

He just needed to figure out how. Just wing it. Maybe something good will happen, whispered his inner Firestorm voice. Yeah, or something bad, he retorted silently, but gave in. Where to start? Well. Why not try to get her to eat the mouse? She was extraordinarily skinny-- unhealthily so-- so if he could just get her to eat it... she needed it so badly.

"Well. Actually, the mouse is for me," he said and he picked it up and strolled farther into the den, putting it down again a few steps away from her. "It's my snack break, and there's no way I'm giving that away. I'm going to need it," He met her stare. Let's see if the mouse is more appealing now, eh, Icethroat? Are you clever enough to 'catch' it from me?

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[Poizuun]

icethroat

"Have it your way." Icethroat said dismissively, slowly lowering her hind end into a sitting position. However, the lower she inched, the more her hind legs slid to the side. Finally, she had to just settle into a laying position, her head up and leaning back slightly on one elbow. She knew the claws of hunger were scratching at her belly, but after so long, she had become accustomed to it. Really, she was no unused to the feeling of being full. It would probably actually make her sick if she was full. She wasn't going to eat that mouse if he pried her jaws open and shoved it in there. If she'd wanted it, she'd go to the fresh-kill pile. Or go out and catch one herself. Icethroat wasn't about to take hand-outs. And she sure as Hell wasn't going to keep trying these hare-brained schemes of Brightnose's when there was nothing to be done. A silly poultice wasn't going to fix her mother's mistake. The damage wasn't her joints. It was her brain. And Icethroat was smart enough to know that there was no poultice that would fix that. Her matted tail dragged along the dusty floor of the den slowly, watching Finchpaw with both eyes, though only seeing him through the one. "Have your snack and then get out. Tell Brightnose I'm not putting on anymore poultices." Again she lifted herself up onto her front legs and drug her hind legs in a circle until her back was facing the apprentice and then she dropped to the floor, laying her head against the ground.

[Whiskers]

Well this was going to be harder than he thought. And he had expected it to be difficult. Finchpaw flicked his ears back, temporarily at a loss at what to do. He wondered if there was a lesson on treating patients that didn't want to be treated. He thought not, as such a lesson would be infringing on free will. Perhaps he was supposed to be learning a different lesson entirely, and Brightnose sent him here to find that out the hard way. Sometimes, there were cats who were injured who simply did not want help. There was nothing to be done for these cats. As a medicine cat, he would have to watch them suffer in silence.

But that wasn't right! Finchpaw always thought that, sure, his job was kind of boring and restrictive, but he always recognized it was important. It was an important job and he was doing good and making cats happier in the long run. Watching another suffer, with nothing to be done, went against every fiber that Finchpaw thought existed in the oath of a medicine cat. There always...always...no matter the circumstances, had to be hope.

Finchpaw couldn't force his medicine or his mouse on Icethroat. He could only force his company. Maybe that was the medicine she needed right now...and then he could later feed her and find a way to fix her legs.

He swallowed a sigh and plopped down opposite Icethroat, slowly taking a measured bite of his mouse. It tasted of his own failure, if that was possible. After a moment of painful silence, Finchpaw said what was on the back of his mind the whole time. "So what do you think is wrong?"

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[Poizuun]

icethroat

Icethroat's tail curled. Unfortunately her deaf ear was up, so Finchpaw's words were muffled slightly to her good ear, but she still got the jist of what he was asking. Obviously she would get no rest with the medicine cat apprentice hanging about her. A low growl entered her voice as she spoke. "Have you not heard the tragic story of Icethroat, then?" She answered, not exerting herself to roll over and face him right away. Pretty much everyone knew what happened to her. That was why they always tried to give her handouts and spend time with her in the elder's den. She was a pity-case to everyone in her Clan. That's why they tried to "help" her all of the time. And that was the reason that Icethroat resented most, if not all, of her Clan.

Finally, she rolled over and looked at Finchpaw with her one good eye. "I was born half-blind and half-deaf. But I still had a chance to be an apprentice and warrior, right?" She snapped at him. "But then my mother, in all of her infinite wisdom, dropped me on the journey. And so I went bouncing down a hill, hitting my head quite a few times." By this time, Icethroat had stood and actually "walked" up to Finchpaw. Her hind legs twisted in circles and every which way with every step, but she actually succeeded pretty well in walking. "The damage is in my brain. Even Brightnose can't fix that." The fur on her tail was completely on end, along with the fur between her shoulders. Her eyes were narrowed and her ears laid back. Icethroat was in Finchpaw's face, as if she was also blaming him for her problems. But he asked, didn't he? He had to even just have an inkling that talking about what was wrong with her would be an even bigger sore spot than her just being unable to contribute to her Clan.

[Whiskers]

It was the first time he had heard the story. Finchpaw didn't know why he hadn't heard it before...why he always just accepted Icethroat for what she was, even when she was just little Icekit and he was just little Finchkit. He supposed that, when he was a kit and he had asked his father about her and his father had refused to say, that was it. He hadn't asked again, for fear of angering his father even more. So, being young and open-minded, he had just taken Icethroat at face value, for everything she was at that moment. Blind, deaf, lame, it made no difference back then. Only now did he realize how much he had been truly dying to know.

His eyes softened, but otherwise there was no chance in his expression or his stature, though she managed to drag herself toward him. If this really was Brightnose's lesson for him, then it was a cruel one. He had never wanted to heal a cat more, yet he was more helpless now than ever before. What could he do for Icethroat's brain? It was something in there, something broken or scarred, and it's not like he could bandage that together with some cobwebs. The only thing he could think of was the possibility of exercises...forcing the brain and legs to work together though they refused to...but even that was such a long shot that it shouldn't even be considered a 'shot' in the first place.

And Icethroat would never go for it. She'd scoff at the idea.

But he couldn't stop envisioning this snarling elder as a kit now, the vision of a softer, fluffier Icethroat consuming his line of sight. What was she like back then? The question instantly latched on and he wished he could travel back in time. He missed so much in his kithood and he regretted it heavily now.

"Do you remember..." he paused, the question hovering, uncertain. "Do you remember our kithood? We were in the nursery together. "

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[Poizuun]

icethroat

Icethroat stared hard at Finchpaw, wondering what his aim was now. Was he trying to make her all soft and fluttery by reminiscing her days as a kit? Well, he was wrong if that was what he was thinking. Icethroat was probably more bitter about the past than she is about the present. She never had a chance to be a kit like the others in the nursery. She didn't get to run around and chase mossballs and butterflies. All that she got to do was sit and watch, next to her mother that caused all of her strife. "Yes, I remember mine." She snapped. "It was the worst time of my life." Her tail listlessly lashed behind her hips that were now askew and twisting more and more the longer she was standing, pulling slightly on her front legs. "But I'm sure that you had a much happier time. You had to. You weren't disabled since the time before you could walk." Her voice dropped a bit of the ferocity and just sounded sad.

[Whiskers]

The pity was overwhelming. Finchpaw had never felt the emotion so strongly in his life -- the desire to go to Icethroat and tell her, for no logical reason, that he was sorry, the need to comfort her in a physical way, show her she was not alone. It was painful and horrible and Finchpaw hated it. Pity was not a pretty emotion. It was not something that was admired or wanted by anyone, Icethroat especially. She would probably tear out his throat before she would ask him to pity her. No, she wanted to be appreciated. She wanted a freaking future actually, the option to choose what happened to her.

And he could definitely relate to that.

The second he realized there was something similar between them, he was able to push back down his ugly feelings and revel in this new thought. In some twisted way, they were the same. Icethroat's whole life had been dictated from the start, messed with by her mother, even if her mother's actions were just accidents. And now here she was, stuck in a place with no one to relate to. At the very least, he had Frostpaw to talk to. Icethroat had...no one.

Was it wrong to compare himself to her thought? Sure, there were similarities, but it all felt too stretched, like Finchpaw was grasping for common ground. He still had the use of his eyes and ears and back legs after all... he could walk out of his situation if he just let himself. Icethroat could not.

He was back to wondering what he could give her, and as he did, his eyes wandered to Icethroat's angry tail, which was thrashing back and forth on the ground. Weird, how the tail could move, but the legs could not. What did that mean? Did that mean that what controlled the tail and legs were different? Now that was extremely interesting...and mindbending...and he would have to keep thinking on that, that was for sure.

"Well no, but I did have to listen to my father rant and rave about the dark forest for hours and hours?" Finchpaw attempted some humor, and almost instantly regretted it. What was he thinking, comparing THAT to her disability? It was pretty tactless...though it was meant innocently? Urgh, oh well, it was out there. He didn't dare make it worse when he figured Icethroat would tear his throat out now.

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[Poizuun]

icethroat

All sadness evaporated from her face, replaced by a flashing rage. Her eyes narrowed and the anger could even be seen in her sightless, pupil-less eye. She tried to lunge at Finchpaw, but her hind legs twisted beneath her body and her hips fell to the floor of the den, pulling her back from him. The anger didn't leave, though, it only grew in her eyes. Icethroat glared at him silently, her eye focused only on him and following his every movement. "Poor Finchpaw," She growled, her ears laying back. "He had to listen to stories while he was a kit." Her voice was now sarcastic and full of faux-pity. "He was able to walk and see and hear clearly, but StarClan forbid, he had to hear about stories of the Dark Forest."

She hissed at him then, baring her teeth, and then lifted her hind legs up off the floor and turned her back to him. Her hind paws had ended up almost right on each other and her back end shifted left and right, unable to really balance itself. But then she turned and looked over her shoulder at him, sneering. "You win, Finchpaw. You had the worst time as a kit." She turned and wobbled into a far corner, growing angrier the more uncontrolled her hind legs became. When she reached the corner, she laid down and curled up tightly, closing her eyes and moving her tail to cover her face. She was alone. Horribly alone in the entire Clan and even the entire forest. No one would know how she felt, what it was like to be like this. You could fake it for a few minutes, but when it got too hard, you could give up and go back to normal. Icethroat couldn't.

"Go stuff your ear and cover your eye with cobwebs. Maybe tie your hind legs together. Maybe then you'll understand. But until then, leave me alone. I don't need your pity or your help." She snapped at him and then fell silent.