Herb Hunting and Needed Conversation [closed]

The moor was coldest in the morning, but it was the best time for a defenseless cat like Aspenheart to be out in the open. With so much to fear, it was best for him to scour the earth for medicine when he was sure predators were safe in their dens. They were running low on many much-needed plants in the medicine den, and the gray tom nearly considered enlisting warriors to go herb hunting for him That was pretty ridiculous, so he settled for an escort. Aspenheart woke his apprentice and led her out into the wild moor.

Aspenheart and Mistystripe were accompanied by one of the stronger warriors due to the instability of the territory lately, which only soothed the medicine cat's worries a little bit. Every step, he felt like he was two whiskers from a fox's hot breath and beady eyes. The warrior kept her distance, making large circles around the two and giving them space, as Aspenheart requested. There was a discussion to be had, and he wanted privacy with his young pupil to ask the questions that needed to be answered. The Leaf-Fall weather had been quite a bit frigid lately, and he needed all the herbs he could get before they all shriveled and died. Even so, it wasn't what dominated his thoughts.

"Mistystripe, lead me to the nearest patch of goldenrod. I also want you to tell me what it looks like and how it's used," he instructed coolly. StarClan, they were going to need plenty of goldenrod. Wounds, scars, blood, infection. Was this the fate of WindClan?

They walked a little while as Aspenheart considered how to begin the conversation. Finally, he decided on something on the vaguer side. Better to control the flow. "What do you think is the most difficult thing about being a medicine cat, scrap?"

Mistystripe padded along with Aspenheart, her tail flicking curiously behind her. Something was on his mind, she didn't know exactly what, but something was on his mind. "Goldenrod." She said at last as she took the lead to a patch that Aspenheart had shown her a few times. "It is the plant with the little yellow flowers on top, is it not? Not like feverfew, ah it is so hard to explain! Used to treat infections, I know that much."

Aspenheart's next question caught her off guard. "The hardest part?" She contemplated what was just asked of her. "The expectations. It is like I have to be great, because StarClan chose me. But I don't know I can be what every cat expects of me. What if I mess up, and a cat dies because of me? What if I forget which herb to use? So many things can go wrong! What if StarClan made the wrong choice?"

She sighed, happy to get that off of her chest, but she wasn't done yet. "I also don't like being on the sidelines. I mean, I would be on the sidelines either way, but still. My siblings are out there, falling in love, and I have nobody. Goldengale has Grousefrost, literally everyone loves Cloverpaw, it won't be hard for him to find a mate, no cat has ever cared about me though. That is why it was so easy for me to give up being able to take on a mate. I would never find one anyway, but it still hurts, y'know?"

Aspenheart listened carefully to Mistystripe's unloading, viewing it as he did any other kind of healing. The psychology of cats intrigued him, as if he were dissecting a piece of prey. His apprentice was no exception. As she rambled on about the struggles of feeling lesser, he felt a strange sense of nostalgia for the young cat he once was. Before the accident. Before the flood. Before his life imploded. With a deep sigh, Aspenheart lowered himself to the ground, inviting Mistystripe to rest beside him for a moment.

"I don't know what it's like to want a mate," he said truthfully for the first time. "It wasn't ever a deciding factor. I found kinship in other places. Finchstar. Your father. Nightrunner, who I hope you get to meet someday in your StarClan-given dreams. That was enough for me. I hope you'll find that Windclan, as incredibly difficult as times have been, will always be a home and a family. When you deliver every kit, bring every elder to their final everlasting sleep, bring a wounded deputy from the brink of death, it brings you closer to them. I think that's why we don't have families. Making the entire clan your responsibility is bittersweet enough." Aspenheart became aware of the somewhat depressing tone and cleared his throat.

"But don't worry. Even if you trip up sometimes, I'm not that much older than you. I'll be around for a long time. It's kind of my job. And your job is to get everything I can't reach, because I'm crippled and lazy. That being said, before the moon ends you should stop by ShadowClan and gather some horsetail. I'm sure you can handle the trip on your own, eh?" Aspenheart playfully hip-checked his apprentice on the way up as he stretched his legs out and looked across the moor for any new finds. "Here's a hard one for you. Let's go find chickweed."

As they started off across the territory once more, Aspenheart hobbling and Mistystripe trotting, he followed up with a rather clever question, if he did say so himself. "The season of greencough is approaching fast. When all the chickweed shrivels and dies, where can you send a warrior to find an alternative in desperate circumstances?"