Give It To Me Straight, Doc

The sun had just disappeared behind the hills, leaving the forest in darkness. The sky, however, was still a pleasant purple color, as most nighttime clouds are when snow is on its way.
Meanwhile, a short tom swallowed nervously, his breath billowing around him and clouding his vision. After a moment of hesitation, the reddish-brown Bengal flexed his claws as if steeling himself, and ducked inside the den. The Shadowclan warrior paused for a moment, looking around with a hint of sadness. He had to admit it was strange to not see Honeydrop busily sorting herbs or telling stories to curious kits. Perhaps, if what he feared was true, he could track down the golden she-cat, and perhaps learn from her.
That is if she was even alive.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, and sat down in the middle of the den.
"Roaringblaze?" Rowantalon meowed, a little louder than normal. "Can I talk to you?"

Roaringblaze looked up from applying a fresh patch of cobwebs to Scorchpaw's belly. "Hey Rowantalon," the little tom greeted. "Sure thing, let me finish securing these cobwebs to Scorchpaw's wounds and I'll be happy to talk to you." He continued to wrap cobwebs until the wound was completely invisible, sticking on burrs at the edges to help keep the strings on longer.

Once he was done, Roaringblaze padded over to Rowantalon. "Let's talk over here." He gestured the experienced warrior to sit right outside the medicine cat den, where they weren't in earshot of any cat including his possibly troublesome patient. "Right then Rowantalon, what did you want to talk about?"

"Hey Rowa..On, Su... ing, lemme fin..sh ..thse cobwe...s to scorchp..." Roaringblaze sounded muffled, like he was speaking underwater.
The warrior shook his head and nearly jumped in surprise and wonder. Immediately, Roaringblaze's words seemed to increase in clarity. Perhaps his hearing wasn't as far gone as he thought.
-ounds and I'll be happy to talk to you."
"Oh! Uh, okay."
Rowantalon shifted his paws anxiously as Roaringblaze finished healing Rowantalon's second-youngest son, Scorchpaw.  The spotted warrior tried his best to seem cool and calm, as he always did around his children, but his older children would've easily been able to see just how worried Rowantalon was.
He followed Roaringblaze outside, settling in the snow awkwardly.
'Well, here goes...' There was no use sugarcoating it.
"I think I'm starting to lose my hearing, or something may be wrong with my ears." Rowantalon mewed, slightly louder than what was probably polite.

Roaringblaze blinked but then nodded, not surprised. Rowantalon was getting on in his years. "Okay," he replied loudly, unperturbed by the experienced warrior's amplified talking. "Let's check how much you can hear." The medicine cat wanted to check it Rowantalon was losing the range of pitches he could hear or the distance. He rolled two rocks together to make a medium-pitched, but small clicking noise. Then he took a two hollowed sticks that he had carved with his claws as an apprentice and banged them loudly with a very low resonating pitch. "Is the sticks or rocks easier to hear?"

Rowantalon's hearing began to fade once more as Roaringblaze began to speak. "Les che.. ow ...  ew er..." The short tom shook his head again, trying to politely hide his confusion, and immediately Roaringblaze's words became clearer. "... sticks or rocks easier to hear?"
He flicked his tail in concentration, straining to hear the sound of either. It was hard to tell, but the sticks seemed louder, or at least easier to hear.
"Uh, the sticks." He mewed, softer this time as if he was embarrassed. "I-It's like certain sounds lost their edge. Everything used to sound sharp, but now everything bleeds together. Words are rounder now."