scrawny [C]

Rowanpaw

Though he'd gotten considerably better since his and Stormdance's bloody return from the fox, Dovesight and Sandypaw had still asked him to stop by their den now and again for a little while. It made him wilt a little every time he stopped by to see them; not for any dislike of his relatives, but sheer dislike of the den itself. It felt cramped in there, and clogged with the overwhelming scents of dust and dry herbs and, in his experience, blood and injury and mild sickness. His leg was fine, anyhow, Rowanpaw thought a bit ruefully as he lingered just outside the mouth of the den. With a brief flex, it displayed no pain, even if it was still a little stiff around the hip. Shrugging, Rowanpaw ducked through the reed curtain, stalling for just a moment while his eyes adjusted to the dimmer lighting. It looked like Dovesight wasn't around right now; only his little sister, and she had yet to turn and notice him. Clearing his throat, he announced, "Sandypaw, I've decided to be good and allow you to make sure my leg is not moments from falling off. It certainly does not feel like it, however--" his expression twisted into a tight frown, agitated at having to go through these motions, before settling into a soft smile, "well, you are the expert here, I suppose. I may be good at many things, but herbs and healing are not one of them."

Sandypaw

Medicine Den

Sandypaw quickly sorted through herbs,
waiting for Dovesight to return with more. While she did instantly recognize the scent of her brother, her head was too focused on chores to notice him until he spoke. “Oh hello Rowan, thank you for coming back,” she purred, “Sorry, even though it feels okay, Aunt Dove and I want to be safe with a couple more check-ups.” The small molly padded over, pressing her nose to his in greeting. “I’ll be quick,” she added, feeling the tom’s exasperation. While she felt sorry for how bored and frustrated he had been stuck in this den, she couldn’t ever imagine being eager to return to the duties that landed him there in the first place.

Sandypaw gently sniffed his old wounds for infection, glad none had re-opened. “Have you had any trouble walking since your last visit?” she asked politely, “And have you been stretching before every hunt?” While she didn’t want to annoy her brother with these formal questions, it was her duty and personal interest to be thorough. She’d never forgive herself if he ever got hurt because she failed her job.

Rowanpaw

Some of the bridling exasperation that that came simply from being near the den was eased by Sandypaw’s greeting. Though they rarely had time to talk, Rowanpaw was fond of her, as he was of all his siblings. He gave a little purr when she touched her nose to his, and put up no fuss as she circled around to sniff at his leg. It didn’t feel all that bad, as he’d tried to tell nearly every cat that seemed interested in his health, but there was no stopping routine visits, it seemed.

”A little stiff,” he admitted with a mild shrug. ”I would not say sore, no. Perhaps a little on the colder mornings we’ve had of late, but it doesn’t bother me. I manage.” His grin widened, cheeky. Even if it had been bad enough to bother him– or stars forbid, broken –he would have managed just the same. ”I have not been stretching, no. I’ve assumed my routine prancing circles around camp was sufficient. I suppose you’re going to tell me that it is not, in fact, a replacement for standing still and making sure my limbs are in working order?”

Sandypaw

Medicine Den

She giggled, “You’d be correct. Keep exercising your muscles and it should be all good by next check up. You ideally want a good balance of rest, food, and activity to stay healthy.” And with that she had no further concerns for the tom, nothing leg related at least.

She sat with her tail curled around her small paws, smiling sweetly at her brother. “If you don’t have anywhere to run off to immediately, could you stick around for a bit? I feel like I hardly see you,” she meowed hopefully.