all is well [closed]

After Maplepaw’s stay in the medicine den had ended, Lightpaw had worried endlessly, certain she needed more time to recover. He understood her eagerness to leave now. The moment Amberdawn had given him permission, he had resumed his duties. He hated being off his paws. He hated how the marks on his neck remained starkly visible through his thin fur no matter what herbs were applied to them. It felt as if all of SkyClan knew of his mistake just by looking at him. His wounds drew stares; there was nothing he could do to hide them. Lightpaw found himself the center of attention for the first time since his apprentice ceremony, and though it only lasted for seconds at a time, he didn’t like that much, either.

Every time he turned his head a little too far, his neck stung in protest. Still, he hunted to feed SkyClan. After dropping his prey on the fresh-kill pile, he ventured into the forest once more. He may have been born without his siblings’ charisma, but he still had four paws, the skills he’d honed under Mistyrain’s mentorship, and an acute awareness of what he needed to do.

Dusk cast its dying light over the Fallen Oak. Lightpaw sat on SkyClan’s side of the border. Beside him lay a single squirrel, his share of prey for the evening. However important it was that he apologize, he refused to take food from SkyClan. He pressed his forepaws together as he waited; after a moment, he lifted one and began to groom it. He wasn’t looking for a fight today, and there was no guarantee Mosspaw would be the first to show up, if she showed up at all. Part of him hoped she wouldn't, but...only a coward would knowingly harm a medicine cat. In the eyes of StarClan and Mosspaw herself, he wanted to prove he was better than that.

Several sunhighs had passed since the battle at the border of SkyClan and ThunderClan, and if Mosspaw was being honest with herself she had avoided the area to try to avoid any more altercations. She had told Pricklebush that the herbs growing out that way had needed more time to develop, but if she waited too much longer they would be hindered rather than flourishing. So she set off towards the border, walking quietly with her ears alert for any company she might have, friendly or otherwise. She carefully picked the herbs that were ready, and made sure that they were doing well before wrapping them in a maple leaf she found on the ground. As she turned to pad back towards camp, feeling a little relieved that nothing had happened this time, she stopped as she heard a small shuffling of paws in the direction of the Fallen Oak, and a whisper at the back of her head told her to go towards it. Against what was probably her better judgement, she padded forward, recalling her warrior training to move silently over the debris littered on the ground.

Hidden in the bushes, her calico pelt blending with the forest's shadows as the sun began it's descent, she gazed at the figure sitting across the border, grooming a paw. After a moment, she recognized him, or more specifically, the long, jagged scars that ran down his neck. She let out a quiet gasp, disguised by the gentle breeze in the leaves of the bushes, and dropped her herb bundle safely on the ground before taking a deep breath and padding out into the open. A foolish move, perhaps, but something told her that she should do so, even if just to check on the young tom.

A motion on ThunderClan’s side of the border caught Lightpaw’s eye. He raised his head as much as he could while continuing to groom—just enough to spot a tricolored pelt. Most of the battle, from the insults that had started it to the single blow that had struck him down, was a blur, but Mosspaw was strikingly clear. Her voice, mostly. Her last words to him, which he’d hazily passed on to Amberdawn as soon as he’d stumbled into SkyClan’s camp, still rang in his ears.

Lifting his muzzle, he scented the air. As far as he could tell, Mosspaw was alone; what little he could gather beneath the muddled ThunderClan scents was unreliable. Honestly, he wouldn’t have been surprised if the many-clawed tabby was lurking in the trees nearby. His neck twinged at the thought, making him wince. Still, he didn’t back down. This was a mouse-brained plan—but he had to see it through, whatever risks it held, for a number of reasons. First, simply because it was right. Second, he cared too much about his ancestors’ good opinion of him to leave now. And third... Given the whole thing had happened in the thick of battle, Lightpaw was sure Mosspaw would have been forgiven for letting him bleed out no matter what rules medicine cats had. An apology and some fresh prey was the least he could give in return. StarClan knew he owed Amberdawn half a moon's worth of voles by now.

Pinning his catch with a cream-colored paw, the apprentice stood and cleared his throat. ”Mosspaw?” he said, testing out the name. "Is that you?" His memories could be lying to him; for all he knew, half of ThunderClan had calico fur, or her name was actually Mothpaw and he'd given Amberdawn the wrong message. "I'm not here to fight," he added hastily, ears flicking back. Lightpaw held a faint hope that, if massive tabby truly was hiding nearby, he'd take that as a sign to back off; a more grounded part of him knew it was most likely pointless.

Blinking at the sound of her name, Mosspaw nodded. "Yes, I'm Mosspaw. I'm surprised you remember my name... How are you feeling? Are you healing well?" She hesitated only a moment before padding forward to stand at the border, in front of the tom. She looked him over quickly, taking special note of the progress of the healing of the wounds on his neck. Raising her eyes to meet his, she sat down and wrapped her tail neatly over her paws, facing him. "What brings you here, Lightpaw? Were you looking for me? You seem like you were anticipating something." The she-cat was curious about his intentions, but he didn't look like he was there to fight, and he said he wasn't, so she was willing to listen if he needed to talk.

So it was Mosspaw. Meeting with her was only the first step, but…at least he didn’t have to worry about running into an angry patrol. ”I—yes, it's healing. Amberdawn helped.” He raised a paw, realized gesturing to the wounds was unnecessary, and let it drop. After a brief hesitation, Mosspaw approached. Her eyes lingered on his throat. Lightpaw, unsure whether that was judgment or an assessment, chose to keep talking. ”I told her what you said. It…seemed like she knew you?” No, wait, that was foolish. They were both medicine cats, and they shared a border—of course they’d met.

Confronted with the prospect of explaining his plan, Lightpaw found his brain utterly empty. ”First—“ In one smooth motion, he grabbed the squirrel, stretched forward as far as he could, and dropped it on ThunderClan’s side of the border. Just as quickly, he stepped back. His gaze settled on the treeline. No sign of the massive tabby. It seemed he wouldn’t be earning another scar from this. Hunching his shoulders, he turned his attention back to Mosspaw; his tail curled close at his side. ”I'm sorry. I wouldn’t have attacked you if I’d known you were a medicine cat, and I…I wanted to apologize. And to thank you.” It was graceless at best—his training hadn't covered interactions with other Clans' members beyond Gathering nights and border scuffles—but his sincerity showed in his tone. ”I don’t know much about herbs, but I thought this might be useful if you can cover the scent.” With a slight frown, Lightpaw waved a paw in the squirrel’s direction.

Relief washed over the medicine cat apprentice's face, and she smiled at the tom. "I'm glad it's healing well. Amberdawn is very talented, she healed my own wound several moons ago on the shore of the distant lake." She mirrored Lightpaw's movement, gesturing to the four long scars on her chest. She chuckled at the thought that Amberdawn seemed to know her, amusement gleaming in her eyes. "Yes, we met on those shores. I offered to help gather herbs, and listening and watching her speak is actually what started my interest in healing. I was training to be a warrior, and it was actually during my warrior ceremony that Pricklebush received the sign that I was to train under him." Her paws shuffled as she realized that she had been talking aloud, and shot the SkyClan tom an embarrassed look as he moved.

Her eyes widened as he reached across the border, and dropped a squirrel on the ThunderClan side before stepping back just as quickly. He looked around nervously as Mosspaw looked to the squirrel, then back to him, her expression softening. "Don't worry, I'm alone today. I accept your apology, and I understand. You probably don't know a whole lot about the other clans, have you?" She gazed at him, wondering briefly if there were any other cats he didn't know that he probably should. "No, thank you, Lightpaw. It takes a brave and just cat to seek out those he has hurt, even if it was unintentional. I'm happy to see that SkyClan has such a valuable upcoming warrior among their ranks." She stood, approaching the squirrel before looking back to him. "Have you eaten, Lightpaw? I don't eat very much, if you would like to share. You've earned my respect."

During the battle, he hadn’t been paying attention to Mosspaw beyond the blur of her pelt. Only now did Lightpaw’s gaze drift to the set of scars on her own chest, full of curiosity. …We match? The kittishness of that thought struck him shortly; the shape and number of the scratches were different, and Lightpaw’s were higher. He met Mosspaw’s eyes again, ears perking up at the mention of the lake. Having been born in the mountains, he’d only heard stories of the flood that had driven the Clans out and the shores where the rest of SkyClan had washed up. Mostly, he was relieved his question hadn’t been as foolish as he’d assumed. Mosspaw had been on a warrior’s path. She knew how to fight, likely better than he did given the difference in age, yet she’d still refused to attack. Lightpaw wondered if that fact would ever stop confusing him. ”She’s a good medicine cat,” he said with a nod. Of SkyClan’s two medicine cats, he knew Amberdawn better. Whether or not she was as skilled as Mintwhisker, Lightpaw was more comfortable around her; that, in his mind, counted as much as experience did. He could see how another cat might want to follow her example. ”Um…Pricklebush?”

His jumpiness hadn’t escaped Mosspaw’s notice. Maybe that was for the best; her assurance that no one else was waiting in the forest behind her helped calm him. Then came the matter of his apology, which she…accepted. ”Oh,” he said. The relief that washed through him was so strong he couldn’t even be surprised, knocking down whatever remnants of caution he’d held. A brave and just cat. Just this once, he could almost believe it. ”That’s…that’s good. Thank you,” he meowed again, blinking.

It was strange, having a conversation with a ThunderClan cat like this. Lightpaw tried to remember if he’d ever spoken to a cat outside his own Clan and came up with nothing. ”I’ve only been to one Gathering,” he admitted, ”and I was preoccupied, then.” On this side of the mountains, Gatherings were the only chance he’d get to see the other Clans outside of combat. He’d always assumed there was nothing valuable there—it didn’t seem like the kind of thing Tinystar would approve of—but watching to see who sat where Amberdawn did would at the very least prevent this sort of thing from happening again. If speaking to a ThunderClanner was odd, sharing a meal with one was odder. He opened his mouth to politely refuse; his stomach growled in protest. Well, that answered her first question. The plan had been to leave after delivering the squirrel and his apology, but Mosspaw seemed willing to talk. He meowed, ”I wouldn’t mind sharing,” and nodded as if motioning for the calico to go first.

"She certainly is. She's very skilled at what she does, and has a lot of knowledge to share. Pricklebush is my mentor, the medicine cat of ThunderClan." She responded, her eyes glowing warmly as they spoke of her friend and her mentor. Relief seemed to flood through the other cat as she reassured him that they were alone, and she smiled at the tom. "You're welcome."

He explained he had only been to one Gathering so far, and Mosspaw tilted her head slightly. "I see. Hopefully I'll see you at the next one soon! I can introduce you to the other medicine cats, or at least point them out to you, if you'd like." He hesitated at her offer to share, but her ears picked up the soft rumble and she nodded to him as he agreed, motioning for her to take the first bite. She obliged, picking up the squirrel and carrying it to the border line, setting it in between and taking a small bite. She only had squirrel every once in a while, so this was certainly a welcome treat. Licking her maw after her bite, she gestured to Lightpaw, indicating that it was his turn.