compulsory difficulty (Closed)

Nightstar didn't move a lot when he could help it. His back felt warm and raw and seemed to grow teeth and bite him when he got up to wander around and speak with his clanmates, to go out to hunt and check on the state of the territory, which was often. Such were the consequences of his actions, refusing the help from his medicine cats was not exactly the epitome of wisdom, but there were cats in Shadowclan that needed it, that would need the preventative care available. Leaf-bare was on the horizon, prey would get scarcer, and herbs even scarcer. They needed the herbs for disease outbreaks, predator attacks, and inter-clan conflicts which would surely happen with such close proximity. If any cat could fight off an infected wound, it would be Nightstar surely? He was still young and strong, one of the younger cats compared to the other leaders.

Burdockpaw emerged from the chaos of Four Trees in front of Nightstar, her mis-matching eyes with the familiar and characteristic blank stare. Upon her back she spouted her badger pelt; there was no way in StarClan that she would dare leave it laying around in this mess for it to get ruined or stolen. The medicine cat apprentice dropped the bundle of herbs in front of her former mentor. It was a small bundle, just the amount that she would need to complete the job. She knew Nightstar would reject the use of herbs to begin with, so she minimized it to the best of her ability. "I saved them, so I am using them." Her eyes scanned over the leader and she began to take mental notes on how to methodically take care of them. His back wound was the worst and would be taken care of first, followed by smaller wounds getting any left overs. The large cat crouched down in front of the bundle, rolling it out and prepping her work.

"You can use them on another cat. I have my lives, and I am still young. Save them for those who need them more than I do." Nightstar protested, looking at the medicine cat apprentice sternly. "If there are no Shadowclan cats to heal, give some to Windclan, or use them to pay our debts to Skyclan and Thunderclan." Huffing, the tom pushed himself to a sitting position, pointing his wounded back away from his former apprentice like a petulant child. His clan needed those herbs, not him. He had to believe that.

Burdockpaw grumbled and scoffed at the Leader. "WindClan is fine. Your back isn't." Her eyes narrowed. Taking a bite to start chewing a poultice she stared the leader in the eyes while she finished before spitting it out. "You wouldn't let this go to waste would you?" A small smirk crossed her face. She could do this back and forth all day.