Kicking and Screaming (Holly)

Dawnlight was upset. Dawnlight was very upset. Cats had finally begun to notice his limp as it progressively got worse. The thorn was deep in his paw and all attempts to get it out had been futile. It had even begun to radiate heat and stink of infection, yet he still insisted on doing his warrior duties. He had to be taken to the medicine cat's den kicking and screaming by other WindClan cats in order for him to get proper treatment.

He really didn't want to. He didn't want to see his half-sister nor Mottleheart, but alas, now he was here. In the den. Where he really didn't want to be.

His yellow eyes stared out from his brindled pelt at Featherpaw, gauging what kind of cat she was and whether or not he could get away as soon as he was treated for his thorn.

"...Dawnlight?" Featherpaw asked, tangentially aware of her half-brother's existence, as she was tangentially aware of a lot of things - such as the names of most of her Clanmates. Still, she couldn't let any sort of bias get in the way of her work, so she sat up as tall as she could, tiny though the was, and looked up at him as professionally as possible. "What brings you here?"

He didn't seem to be in as bad a condition as her littermate, Mistpaw, had been after falling into the gorge, so she hoped it wasn't anything serious. And that it was something she could handle, not needing to fetch Mottleheart from... Wherever he was. She honestly had no idea, preferring to busy herself with her herbs and the cats that frequented the medicine den as patients (and, in some cases, friends as she had come to regard a few) rather than most of the others, her mentor included. She was almost afraid if she acknowledged him as such he might disappear, and she would be tending to the Clan by herself once again.

He gave a curt, stiff nod, finding it awkward to finally be around Featherpaw. Dawnlight had honestly been trying to avoid this as much as possible, sometimes subconsciously, sometimes actively. It just felt weird having siblings again after Goldenflame had literally fallen off the face of the world. He almost wanted to smirk at how cute her tiny-bodied professionalism was, but his humor was dry and brittle. It had not been properly tended to in a long time. When was the last time he had laughed? Let himself smile? He was always so stern, so stiff...

"Thorn. Been there a couple sunrises and sunsets," he replied.

It really was not serious. He really did not feel like he had to waste the time and herbs of the medicine cat during leafbare. It showed in his twitching and nervous kneading of the moss beneath him.

"You shouldn't have left it so long," she said simply, and while most would have at least a chiding tone hers was just that of someone stating a simple fact. "May I see?" Again, most would phrase it as a demand - from Featherpaw it was a request, soft and polite.

It was awkward to her as well, certainly, but she found speaking to most cats awkward and so it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Healing, however, was her work and her passion, and so she waited for Dawnlight to answer her.

"I know that," he grumbled, "but the Clan needed me. It still needs me. Let's get this over as quickly as possible."

He held out his right forepaw for her to see. The paw pad was an angry shade of bright pink with a dark spot in the middle where the thorn was.

His eyes stayed away from her, though. She was soft and gentle. Nothing like Goldenflame, the competitive and wild, certainly, but she reminded him of his full sibling. The pain of losing him was why he had avoided her for so long, honestly.

Carefully, Featherpaw removed the thorn and ensured the bleeding had stopped. "I think that should do it for now," she nodded. "But be careful walking on it for the next few days, and if anything else happens please come back to me. The last thing the Clan needs in leaf-bare is warriors who can't fight."

She fell silent then, her next action being to return to sorting herbs. She had no idea what else to say, and so what she did was what she was used to. It was more necessary now, in leaf-bare, than before - they had to keep constant track of what they needed more of.

"All right," he said, grunting at her last remark.

"... Thank you, by the way." Dawnlight muttered before getting up to leave.

"Anytime," the tiny silver she-cat chimed. "But try not to make it too often."

She kind of hoped he would return, so that she could get to know him a little better - but she hoped it wasn't because he was hurt. He wasn't just a name and face to her anymore, now a living, breathing cat in practice as well as in theory. A cat that happened to be her kin, and whether of not he cared to acknowledge her as his sister, she would acknowledge him as her brother - at least in her thoughts.