thorns, thistles, and in between [closed]

The pallid glow of the after light illuminated what could have been misconstrued as the anxious lashing of a tail. But Wolffang was a creature that had always found herself wholly dedicated to the path of her own paws, not matter how wild the gait of her loping. Even in the darkest of days, turning her back on both clan and kin, Wolffang hadn't faltered. It had been the downfall of her miserable existence and yet the very same devotion had carried her to Starclan. Even the most mousebrained of ancestors understood the crooked path that carried the Shadowclan-born she-cat into the afterlife. Her yellowed gaze was prying as she sought out the sleeping frame of a young cat. Even in the apprentice's youth, she easily was a head taller than the former warrior.

Between half-slit eyes, Wolffang regarded her target. Cinderpaw. How strange it was to consider the contrast to her late sister and the sickeningly sweet medicine cat, Honeydrop. Medicine cats were as unique as warriors in their various frames and dispositions. Most considered the healers to be soft as the moss they tended to but Wolffang had seen many things in her lifetime and beyond. Even now, Aspenheart rested among the stars and still refused to cease his eternal attempts to beat sense into the next generation. His own busy paws were perhaps the reason that she was here now. This was work that needed to be shared between many claws. The irony of it all was not lost on her. These paws had once pressed into the throat of a medicine cat with the intent to strip life, some absurd youthful deviance driven by grief and stupidity. She understood her own misdeeds and had made peace with them before breath had been stripped from her lungs.

Perhaps this was the punishment delivered to her after the mercy already presented by the stars. Regardless, this would be for Puddlepaw. And even for Honeydrop. Cinderpaw needed a strong minded cat to lead her and Wolffang would never shy away from the challenged. A paw prodded the ash-coated side, disturbing the sleeping form of the young cat. A judgmental gaze would be waiting upon her awakening, supplemented by the rasp of her rough tongue, "Get up, kit. If you want to be of any use to your clan, you'll have to put up with some restless dreams."

The following events after Mothglow's death had felt like a blur. It all happened so quickly, ShadowClan was in unanimous support of Cinderpaw's decision, something she despised. Perhaps if even one soul had expressed dislike then maybe she wouldn't have had to take the leap. Maybe she'd still be able to call herself a warrior apprentice, but the stars weren't so kind. Mothglow's burial was quiet, with no medicine cat to lower her into the ground. Cinderpaw was well aware of the eyes that watched her, and she dug her claws into the ground as ShadowClan's gaze bore into her back. There was so much to learn and do - and no one to teach it to her. Perhaps a more friendly cat would have made the journey to their ThunderClan or SkyClan neighbors to ask for assistance from their healer - but Cinderpaw would rather die than admit weakness. She'd figure out how to prepare a fallen warrior for burial, she'd learn to dress a wound and prepare a poultice, but even the thought of such things made her mind tingle.

It was dawn when the massive she-cat brought her nest into Mothglow's old den, discarding the old scraps of moss with her own. The space smelled strongly of lush herbs and gloomy roots. Cinderpaw's feet prickled with an uneasy feeling. It was only last sunset when the former medicine cat had resided here. Now everything was gone - Mothglow, her skills, her knowledge. Cinderpaw was left with nothing, and had to build an empire from the ground up. The sun had almost reached its peak when Cinderpaw finally decided to sleep, alone awake in camp. Everyone else had tucked in for the day, slumbering soundly amongst their denmates. The she-cat sat alone, hunched over, an array of plants before her paws. She'd mashed and ripped and teared and tasted. Some of the roots were bitter, others strong and sweet. Cobwebs for bleeding, that one was obvious. But what was this yellow flower?

The she-cat was only half-conscious when she passed out in her nest, but awoke shortly after to find herself face-to-face with a raggedy tabby, yellow eyes like bright moons. A raspy voice demanded she get up, to which Cinderpaw hissed. The cat should know better than to disturb her sleep. Even if she was some star-blessed, milk-drinking, mouse-eater. The silvery grasses that swayed around the apprentice didn't faze her, as Cinderpaw determined them a hallucinatory side-effect of her herb-testing. "I've been up all morning trying to find the lost poppy seeds in my fur and you're disturbing me now? I'm very useful to my clan thank you very much! Now send me back to my nest! I'm tired!"

Wolffang scoffed, "Very useful, huh? You're about as useful as a frozen frog."

The tabby stood straighter, stretching her spine forward to bridge the distance between her and the other she-cat, their noses touched in an abrupt way but the Starclanner didn't relent. Down the bridge of her nose, she stared into Cinderpaw's eyes for a moment with a low growl rumbling in her throat. An impatience pricked at her paws. Finally, the grey-pelted warrior whipped around and stalked away a few steps, snapping back a quick command for the apprentice to follow. There wasn't far to go. For as much as these lands stretched, the Starclan cats traveled with an otherworldly ease. When their destination was reached, her paws just barely touched the edge of a vast field. Innumerable plants and flowers stretched before them, only coming to an end just at the edge of the horizon.

"If you snap at me again I'll swipe the words from your maw." The words crackled through the air, a venomous proclaimation from the deceased Shadowclan cat. As she stared out over the vibrant swathe of colors, Wolffang found her tense muscled relaxing ever so slightly. This cat needed more than the sharp bite of a practiced tongue. While there was no doubt that would be useful later, what she needed most was guidance. Wolffang's tail flickered rhythmically as she spoke once more, "It's obvious you know as much about healing as a dead rat. Starclan isn't just going to sit on our tails while you kill all of Shadowclan with lack of knowledge. You need a proper visit to the moonstone. Find Mossbloom at dawn, she'll take you." Her head tilted to stare up at the young cat at her side.

"If you can name five herbs in this field, then you can sleep in." A knowing smile crossed her maw, eyes dancing with a teasing air, "So, Mossbloom will see you in the morning then."