Post by Bast on Jan 5, 2012 1:49:52 GMT -5
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| [atrb=background,http://i1189.photobucket.com/albums/z431/poshiloh/Something%20Beautiful%20v2/middle-5.png] [scrolly:h(282),w(444),sy] RESTLESSNESS clawed at the white tom as he crept through the fern screen dividing the medicine cat's den from the rest of camp. Snowstorm wasn't one of the most active cat's in camp but even he was beginning to go stir crazy laying around Goldenlight's den. The clever weave of fern fronds, reeds and other tough plants cemented together with a fast-drying mush of herbs was a reminder of Snowstorm's confinement, the band of woven plants and herb mush wrapped around his middle. It had been that way for nearly half a moon, the wrap keeping his damaged ribs from shifting after a boar hunt gone awry. In that half moon, the white warrior had kept himself more or less cut off from the rest of the clan, partially because for once he could actually get away without being around them. Another reason had been Goldenlight stubbornly keeping a firm eye on his injuries to make sure the broken ribs didn't shift and puncture any organs. FOR a long while, Snowstorm hadn't even cared about the confinement because moving hurt so badly. Sparks of pain, white hot and constant had kept him down. The feed of poppy seeds from the aged medicine cat hadn't hurt either to keep him immobile and as docile as a young kit. For a long while, he had been content to rest because his body had begged for it in order to properly begin stitching itself back together. Now though, he was beginning to feel the stubborn itch of his limbs seeking movement and his mind seeking some mental stimulation apart from Goldenlight's gentle wit as she sorted herbs. WITH the two puncture wounds becoming puckered young scars under the wrap of greenery around his middle, Snowstorm had finally convinced Goldenlight to let him at least stretch his legs a little. He'd had to promise to his ancestors and back that he wouldn't step a toe outside of camp and that he wouldn't do anything that would exert him and make him breathe heavy in a way that was still quite painful. That was why he only made it about as far as a low flat boulder to one side of camp before he decided to settle down there. Moving gingerly, the tom hauled himself onto the rock and settled carefully in a patch of warm sunlight, laying on his uninjured side. The cold eyed tom was very aware of eyes on him but tried to ignore them. Of course by now everyone knew what had happened, that he'd botched a dangerous hunt and gotten himself nearly killed. Few had glimpsed the injured tom though since he'd kept himself in Goldenlight's den for the solitude of it and partially because he was avoiding the clan deputy. CRIMSONFIRE was partially to blame for Snowstorm's injury but the white tom wasn't holding the other to it. Really it was his own fault, one hundred percent. He had bitten off more than he could chew and choked. Snowstorm just wasn't fond of others seeing him beaten down as low as Crimsonfire had seen. StarClan, the deputy had practically dragged Snowstorm back to camp. Of course the warrior knew Crimsonfire had been in and out to visit him. He'd faked sleep the few times he'd been conscious of the deputy being there simply because he didn't have the energy to handle the volitle deputy with the temperament of an old bomb, ready to explode at any moment. Nobody ever realized how much energy it took to be as impassive and cool as Snowstorm was on a daily basis until he didn't have the energy to put up with their mousedung and bothersome natures. A tired Snowstorm tended to be about as friendly as an angry hornet and recently that had been Snowstorm's only mood. Even Goldenlight had noticed it. He couldn't help it though. He was bored and tired and sore and tired of being sore. Strong smelling herbs clung to his pelt and he was constantly bound up in Goldenlight's weave of reeds and fern fronds to keep his ribs from shifting as they healed. Every evening the medicine cat would carefully shred the fronds and reeds with her claws to allow the punctures on his side some time to breathe and to change the herb salves and cobwebs slathered over them. Then Snowstorm would have to very carefully stand and lay as directed so Goldenlight could reweave a new wrapping of the plants to again stabilize his injured ribs. Snowstorm knew for a fact this treatment, while effective was unconventional. Most other cats simply had to lay still while their ribs healed but the method Goldenlight had developed over her many many moons as medicine cat provided more mobility and less pain once the ribs were stable and bound tight. Really TigerClan was blessed to have a medicine cat so clever but SNowstorm was healing thanks to her and now becoming twitchy. He wanted to hunt and patrol, if only for the mental stimulation of doing something other than observing Goldenlight in her work. IT didn't help that Goldenlight had been distracted since her apprentice chose to abandon the life of a medicine cat. Snowstorm could tell it disheartened the faded tabby to have lost another apprentice. She was four for four apparently and aging as fast as ever. Laying atop the low boulder, sprawled on his uninjured side, Snowstorm let his cool gaze drift over the familiar camp as warriors came and went. What would they do if Goldenlight drifted away one night and TigerClan was left with no one that knew how to weave reeds to brace broken ribs or didn't know how to help a queen in a poor labor or didn't know how to treat greencough? IN the end the train of thought slid from the white warrior's normally firm grasp on his mind. With the warm sun rays on his bandaged side and warm stone pressed against his cheek, the normal hustle and bustle of camp in his ears, Snowstorm's sharp blue eyes drifted closed. Tagged;; open Words;; 1044 Song;; "Trouble is a Friend" by Lenka Notes;; ^^ |
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