A SWAMP STROLL {open}

[mysteryfaith]

Foxflower's bright ginger pelt glistened in the morning sunlight, rays streaming in through gaps in the leaves above her. The leaves belonged to the thick swamp trees, swaying gently in the early morning breeze with a nonchalant sway that she had always admired.

Out here, in the swamps, Foxflower could come face to face with the reality of her situation: she was an elder. Admittedly, she could still hunt and fight if she had to, but her bones were no longer as supple as they had once been. Every part of her ached, and she woke up feeling more and more inclined to simply sleep in, rather than going out for her customary walk.

She had spent her life enjoying the luxuries of being in a Clan, and rushing through the benefits of being a great warrior. Every energy rush in battle was one she took for granted - and now she was paying for it, wishing with every ounce of her being that she could go back on to the battlefield just one more time, without having to worry about her "brittle bones" and "weak muscles". That was what the medicine cat called them, treating them as if they were a highly contagious disease; well, that's almost what they were. Old age was a disease that everyone had, simply at different stages. The symptoms only show when the disease of old age is very advanced.

Foxflower hated being old. She hated being creaky, she hated being forgotten, and most of all, she hated being left alone in the elders' den with no one to talk to. Occasionally, apprentices came in to gruffly change her bedding and then storm out again, leaving little time for her to talk to them; every so often, the Clan leader might stroll in for a fleeting visit, and then leave within minutes. All she wanted was a little company - which was why she insisted upon these little adventures every day.

Of course, she hated the swamp; it clung to her lovely ginger fur, clumping it in muddy tufts and making her feel disgustingly sticky. She was sure that the young cats must love it for its slimy texture and its ability to provide the fresh-kill pile with frogs and toads, but she hated it. She didn't care if she never ate a tasty frog again - she simply would not stay here. Normally, she only wandered a few minutes away from the camp - she never really went this far. Except today, she was feeling particularly down about her age . . . she now wished that she had taken her same old route, and stuck to the routine she'd set out. She really did hate this swamp.

There was only one problem with her plan of getting out of it . . . she couldn't. "I don't believe it!" she exclaimed with a mixture of disbelief and horror. "I've got stuck in my own territory! Oh, I'm ashamed to call myself a WestClan cat - now I'll have to get one of those young warriors to help me get out of here! There must be one around here . . ."

The only thing she could do that might help her now was the one thing that would lower her pride forever. Yes, she was an elder; yes, she had very little dignity left to her name. But could she possibly do this? Yes, yes, yes! Or on the other hand, no, no, no . . . she just had to try it out. It would break her spirit, but if she didn't, she'd sink into the swamp like a heavy pebble.

"Heeeeeelp!" the she-cat screamed, her green eyes alight with the horror of deserting her pride so profoundly. Oh, this is so embarrassing! she thought to herself with an inner sigh. "Help me! I'm stuck in the swamp!"

662.

[Toadie]

Sharpfang had gone for another one of his walks in the swamp, trying his best at every turn to defy being an elder. He wasn't the only one, it seemed, however. One of the other WestClan elders, Foxflower, was also adverse to growing old. He assumed that the never-give-up attitude was just something born and bred in WestClan cats.

His limp leg was growing sore again, however, as he walked through the swamp. Mud was clinging to his fur, and making his dull ginger fur practically invisible under a cover of mud. He looked around for a moment, forgetting what he was doing. He'd been having moments of losing his memory, and it did him no favors.

Shaking his head, he remembered that he was simply out on a walk. For a moment in time he thought, maybe he was out on patrol like a young warrior again. He didn't understand why his memory would fade. He'd chalk it up to old age, but Ravenspirit hadn't been able to tell him anything about it. She looked at him with concern in her eyes, and he knew there was something wrong.

Out in the middle of nowhere, he soon began to realize that he was forgetting the way to get back to camp. His leg was acting up more than ever, and he winced at the pain. "Foxdung," he spat bitterly. "Why am I cursed with this bad leg? One branch ruined my entire life." Sharpfang shut his green eyes and sighed.

His ears pricked when he heard a sharp call ring out into the swamp. He recognized the voice, and knew almost immediately that it was Foxflower. He knew she'd left the elder's den earlier, and presumed they must have had the same thought: take a pleasant stroll through the WestClan territory.

Practically dragging his bad leg along with him, he walked, sniffing the air and trying to find traces of her scent. The air in the swamp was damp and filled with scents of mud and prey. He could barely concentrate on one thing. He suddenly once again blanked out about what he was doing.

Was I hunting? he thought. He looked around through the grove of swamp trees and wondered for a moment. Then he heard the second part of Foxflower's call, and he remembered. "Foxflower!" he cried out. "Are you alright?"

He could see her in the distance, and walked towards her as fast as he could. He kept cursing and wincing as the pain in his leg grew worse. He kept walking until he was near her. He could see the distress she was in, and her predicament. "Foxflower, what can I do to help?" he asked.

(OOC: Whew, I sure had to write a lot to keep up. You're a very good roleplayer. ^_^)

[mysteryfaith]

Foxflower stopped struggling for a moment to listen to the voice that was calling her name. She twisted her head - had a strong, brave warrior come to save her? No - even better! One of her own kind. Someone who would understand her embarrassment . . .

"Oh, Sharpfang!" she burst out, eyes alight with happiness. In fact, she preferred this to having a patrol come and dig her out; though they wouldn't say it to her face, they would definitely be talking amongst themselves about how she, a "poor defenseless elder", had got herself stuck in the swamp. Rumours flew on swift wings around the camp these days - even gossip about a struggling elder would tantalise the tastebuds of the young warriors.

"Sharpfang, I'm sorry about this," she began, feeling herself blushing. It was still embarrassing, despite the lack of warriors who wouldn't understand. "I was just walking through the swamps - I hate how they get in this season, all sticky and eager to chew up an unsuspecting cat like me. I try to walk every day, you know, just to keep up the strength in my bones . . . they say there's no strength left in me, but I don't believe them." She realised with a jolt that she was rambling on, avoiding the situation at hand. "What I mean to say is . . . we have to find a way of getting me out of here!"

Foxflower wriggled a little, seeing how much of her was stuck - her paws had sunk straight into the goop by now, and they wouldn't budge an inch, but her legs could still move a little. She'd sunk so far in that her feet were going numb, and the mud was beginning to tickle her belly fur. "I don't know what we're going to do," she admitted - that stole a few more drops of dignity from her, saying out loud that she didn't know what to do. This would never have happened if she was a supple warrior - why did she have to be a stupid, stiff elder, not even able to cross a swamp without getting into a muddle? "The swamp's dragging me down . . . and is that . . .?"

The strange tickling sensation around her paws made her squirm; she'd felt such a sensation before, and it didn't end pleasantly. In her warrior days, she had prided herself upon being able to catch a swamp snake by sticking her paw into the swamp mud, waiting until one slithered past her, and then setting off in chase of it. She had been well-known for her snake-catching skills, sometimes bringing in two or three every moon. They were thick, slimy creatures, with horribly striped scales; seasons ago, when she was a warrior, their taste had been rich and delicate to her - now, she couldn't stand the slippery texture of their flesh.

She knew from those days what had just slithered past her paws. She had to get out, and quick. "It's a swamp snake!" she exclaimed loudly, tail lashing furiously as she struggled to escape. "Quick, quick! It just slithered past my paws - if it senses we're here, it won't hold back! Oh, what can we do?" How could he possibly help her? What could he do to save her body from being pulled up by a disgusted patrol in a half-moon or so, battered and broken with her spirit already long gone to StarClan? Suddenly, it came to her - he could dig her out!

"Quick, come over here - if you stand on the roots of that tree over there, you won't sink into the mud. Then, you can dig me out, and we can both escape before that snake catches us!" She wriggled a little - yes, she was sure that if Sharpfang dug just a mousetail-length into the mud for each paw, she would be able to escape!

697.



(OOC: Haha, thank you very much! =) Well, I could see from the beginning that this site was one of high roleplay quality - I knew that I couldn't be a one-paragraph-poster. Besides, I don't want to look like a slacker, do I? =D)

[Toadie]

Sharpfang looked back and forth, noticing just how stuck Foxflower was. His eyes flashed with worry. He knew that it must be terribly embarrassing for Foxflower, being caught out in the swamp like she was, but worse than that she was in danger. He listened to her ramble for a moment, very aware of the fact that he often did the same himself.

Her paws were sunk into the mud, and it seemed like it was only going to get worse. The swamp could sometimes be unforgiving like that, sinking cats who couldn't get out fast enough into the murky, muddy water. But Sharpfang wasn't about to allow such a fate to befall Foxflower.

"Relax, and try not to move," he meowed. "Moving only sinks you down further." For a moment he blanked out again, but once he shook his head he realized what he was doing. He'd been staring for a moment, but hopefully not long enough for Foxflower to notice.

When she called out about the swamp snake, he was concerned. Many of the snakes in the swamp were venomous, and many cats had died from being bitten by them. He'd earned his name, Sharpfang, by fighting off a particularly venomous snake that would have killed one of the warriors. He didn't know if he could do the same now, without being bitten himself.

"Try not to wriggle around so much," he warned her. "That will only make the snake upset." He looked over to the roots of the tree that she had indicated. He walked around to where it was, doing his best to climb up onto the twisting roots with his leg in the state that it was. He winced again, but he knew that he would have to rescue Foxflower before it was too late.

Some swamp snakes were rather large, vicious creatures, and would bite even when slightly provoked. Some of them were even so large that they could swallow a cat whole. His half-brother, Lonestar, had been one of the unfortunate victims of such a snake. He deeply hoped that maybe, just maybe, it was just one of the small snakes who didn't have such a deadly bite. He leaned out towards Foxflower, trying to make sure that he didn't fall into the mud.

He was shaking just a little trying to reach out with his paw to start digging Foxflower out. He tried to scrape the mud away from her paws, only to find that it kept filling in with more sticky, murky water. Foxdung, what can I do about this? He then saw the snake poke it's head out of the murk, hissing viciously.

Suddenly blanking out, Sharpfang didn't have time to avoid being bitten in the leg by the angered creature. He yowled, being snapped back into the present by the pain of the bite. He shook his leg until the snake let go, dropping back into the mud somewhere near Foxflower.

"Augh," Sharpfang spat. He felt woozy, which indicated that the snake had indeed been venomous. "Foxflower, I can't dig anymore. The snake bit me." His vision was fogging over and he rasped a little bit. He fell forward into the mud with his muzzle under the swampy water. He was either going to drown or succumb to the poison, unless some cat came to help. Now there were two elders in peril, and so far no warriors nearby.

[mysteryfaith]

"Oh great StarClan, no!" Foxflower screeched, watching Sharpfang's head droop from the venom. "No, Sharpfang, stay with us! Come on, Sharpfang, you can do it . . . I'm sure a warrior will come along soon. Just don't go to sleep, whatever you do!"

Foxflower felt a pang of pity for the elder; from what she had heard, venomous snake bites were terribly painful to experience. They had to get help, and quickly - but how? They were both elders; their physiques were weak, no matter how defiant they were about being old. There didn't seem to be any warriors about to come and pull them out, so they'd have to get out themselves . . .

An idea struck her like a bout of lightning - it was crazy, and it would be difficult to carry out, but she had to try. Sharpfang looked as if he might drown - his head had dropped into the murky water beside her after he had been unable to dig her out - or even die from the snake poison. For his sake, Foxflower had to at least try to save them both.

"Look, do you see that vine?" she called out, focusing her vision on a long tendril hanging down from one of the swamp trees. If she could just stretch her neck a little further . . . "I'm going to . . . see if I can . . . grab it . . ." Her speech was interrupted as she took hurried breaths; despite Sharpfang warning her not to move, she couldn't help struggling a little bit against the slippery mud. She was slowly sinking lower, and all she wanted to do was to thrust out her paws, to struggle against the rising mud.

Got it! She clasped the vine tightly in her mouth, and tugged on it experimentally; it felt quite sturdy, as if it would hold an elder's weight. It was a thick vine coming from a a tree she couldn't name - the tree's title evaded her memory, annoyingly, which was a side effect of getting older. However, there was no time to complain now; there was little time to waste, and the sooner they got back to the camp and found the medicine cat, the better.

"This had better work," she muttered to herself, her voice muffled by the vine. Making sure she had a good grip on it, she pushed her head deep down into the mud. It tasted salty and vile, and matted her beautiful ginger fur; her whiskers clumped together, and her nose was flooded with murky water. Each moment, she got more uncomfortable, but she kept pushing her head down; the further down she got, the better it would be for the both of him. The mud was sticky enough to hold the vine down, if she could push it down far enough . . .

There! That much should do it. She withdrew her head from the mud, fighting furiously against the sticky swamp that desperately wanted to keep it down. The mud soon filled up the gap where her head had been, and as she shook her head - sending swamp mud flying everywhere - she spotted with a rush of pleasure that the vine looked quite taut; one end was attached to the tree it had come from, and the other was stuck firmly in the mud.

"I'm going to grab the vine with my mouth," Foxflower informed Sharpfang, her voice shrill from panic; if this didn't work, they would both be stuck here, and she didn't know that any warrior patrol would be quick enough to save them. "If I can pull myself out, or at least free myself a little bit, I might be able to escape. Then I can free you, and . . ." No. She didn't want to let herself think that far - the plan could still fail. The mud was creeping up to her neckline, but she could still reach the vine with her mouth - now all she needed to do was pull.

The mud around her didn't move a mouse-tail, so she tried again. This time, there was a tiny shift. Once more, she pulled - now, she moved a little more. Using simply her mouth, she was pulling herself out of the mud. She could only move a little bit - she wouldn't be able to pull herself out completely - but it was enough to loosen one of her paws.

"Yes! Sharpfang, I've done it!" Foxflower screeched out loudly, congratulating herself. For an elder, she'd done a pretty good job! She pulled her front left paw out, shook it a little, and put it firmly on top of the vine. The twist of growth bent underneath her weight, looking for a moment as if it might snap, but it gave her a platform of sturdy security which meant she could pull her other front paw out. Putting both front paws on the vine, she could loosen one, then both of her back paws. She was free!

It didn't take her two moments to scamper to the roots of the tree, where the swamp mud couldn't get her. Her pelt felt disgustingly sticky, and her face was still covered in swamp mud from where she'd buried the vine, but now she was free to help her fellow elder! "Sharpfang!" she blurted out, seeing the elder's body lying there. She leaned down, and grabbed his scruff, yanking his head out of the murky water; that was the least of their problems. What had the poison done to him?

"Sharpfang, I don't know what to do," the she-cat whispered, crouching over the elder and feeling true fear for the first time. She didn't know where the snake had bit him, but she knew that it must be serious - after all, the elder's head had slumped into the swamp after only a few moments. "I don't know how to help you . . . Sharpfang, please, don't pass out on me. Please, tell me what to do."

1049.

[Toadie]

Sharpfang was struggling to keep his green eyes open. He looked out, unable to left his head from the muddy ground. He could hear what Foxflower was saying to him, but it echoed and danced through his head in reverberation. Pulsing through his leg was the pain and venom, on a swift course to his heart.

He saw her grabbing at the vine, and he opened his mouth to try to congratulate her but could only rasp. He saw her plan starting to unfold, and she explained it all the way. He tried to lift his head, but it only splashed back into the mud. He found himself practically unable to breath, and the mud was getting into his nostrils.

His mind began to wander back to the days when he was a warrior. He could remember that he used to be able to handle something like this. When he was younger, a bite from a venomous snake would probably not kill him as long as it was properly treated in time. Snake bites were difficult to treat, but the method had been passed down from medicine cat to medicine cat in WestClan.

Sharpfang only wondered if Ravenspirit knew how to do it as well. Everyone knew that Cardinaltail had died long before her time, and hadn't been the medicine cat of the Clan for very long. Ravenspirit had to teach herself most of the things she should have learned. This led Sharpfang to wonder if there was any hope for him. He was old, and now the venom was starting to spread through his bloodstream.

He just wasn't strong enough to deal with something like this anymore. He shut his eyes, still too weak to lift his head out of the mud. He couldn't tell what Foxflower was doing anymore, but he did hear a sudden yowl of triumph from her. She managed to free herself from the mud, and he was deeply proud of her. She was proving that elders weren't all completely helpless. Sadly, he himself was not doing well to try to counter the stereotype.

His head lolled back as she lifted him up out of the mud, allowing him to breathe. He still couldn't manage to move, and he knew that he was probably going to die soon if he didn't get help. "Foxflower, I need a medicine cat," he murmured quietly. "Try to stay away from the snake." He could still see the vile creature slithering around, angrily hissing. They might have stumbled across one of the snake's territories.

Sharpfang hadn't been bit by a snake before, but he never imagined it would feel like this. His blood felt like it was on fire, and he could barely move. He was doing all he could to keep from crying out in pain, and his body was shaking and shivering. He could see dark tunnels in his vision, but he struggled to keep from slipping into unconsciousness or worse. StarClan, don't let this be the end...

[SWEET♥]

[bg=black][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] RAVENSPIRIT: WESTCLAN MEDICINE CAT The young Clan medicine cat was out searching for herbs in the swamps. If there was one problem with being a medicine cat in cat in WestClan, it was the lack of herbs. Sometimes she could find them growing out in the swamps, but other times she had to go a little further, even down to the Tunnelplace to go and find them. This time, she'd had more luck than usual. In her mouth she carried a bundle of herbs that she'd found. She disliked the way that the mud squished beneath her paws, but she tried to ignore it. She didn't like the fact that there could be snakes just lurking in the swamp water, waiting to bite her if she accidentally disturbed them. Sudden cries in the distance hit her ears, and she looked up. Her violet eyes shone with worry, and she sniffed the air. She could vaguely smell the familiar scents of two elders from the Clan, Foxflower and Sharpfang. Concerned that they could be in danger, and mentally chiding herself for not making sure they were escorted outside of the camp, she rushed towards them. She kept her herbs in her mouth, not wanting to put them down anywhere for fear that she would have to use them. She hoped that maybe the situation wasn't as bad as she thought, but elders were fragile, and anything could happen if they were out alone. She spotted them through the trees and the vines that were hanging down, sitting on top of one of the sprawling tree roots. "Foxflower! Sharpclaw!" she called out. She could see immediately that there was something wrong with Sharpclaw, and she held her breath. She rushed towards him, and it became evident that he had been bitten. She saw the look of worry on Foxflower's face. "What happened? Was it a snake?" she asked, to confirm her suspicions. She wasn't sure if she knew how to treat snake bites. Cardinaltail, her mentor, had told her that she was going to learn how to treat them, but she never actually got around to doing so before she died. This meant that Ravenspirit wold have to figure out the cure for snake bites on her own. She searched her mind to try and remember what might have been the right treatment. I need you now more than ever, StarClan, she prayed. Now would be a really bad time to continue to ignore me. I don't want to lose this elder. She looked at Sharpfang, pained when she didn't receive any kind of answer back from StarClan. It was like they weren't even there.

[mysteryfaith]

Foxflower felt herself letting out a massive sigh of relief as she saw the medicine cat coming. "It's okay, Sharpfang - Ravenspirit's coming! Oh, thank StarClan . . ." She collapsed down next to her fellow elder, so relieved at the medicine cat's appearance that she almost felt pain. Their panic was over - for now, at least.

She stood up again to greet Ravenspirit, still standing protectively close to Sharpfang. "It's a snake bite," she informed the she-cat swiftly, pointing with a paw toward her friend's leg. "I think it was there, but I couldn't be sure . . . I was stuck in the swamp when the snake came, you see, so I was spending most of my time trying to get out instead of looking after him." She suddenly realised how heartless that made her sound - she had been selfish, more worried about him getting her out of the mud than his safety.

"It's okay, Sharpfang," she continued, trying to sound as positive as she possibly could despite the state of the situation; there they were, standing around as an elder was slowly getting worse and worse from a snake bite. Why was it that Foxflower always ended up in these situations? Perhaps she just had bad luck . . . or perhaps she was a bad luck charm herself.

She thought about it; it seemed that disaster followed her now she was an elder. She comes to a swamp, she gets stuck - and then the cat who comes to rescue her gets a snake bite. She goes for a walk along the border, a patrol comes along, and accuses her of trespassing. She tries to sleep in her den, a fire breaks out. She was the calamity cat of the Clan, and even crying to StarClan didn't help.

StarClan . . . they seemed to be silent, recently. In the past, they had occasionally give her a little reassurance - tiny signs hidden around her, telling her that everything would be alright. Their signs and reactions had gone dead, but why? Ravenspirit was a medicine cat - she would have the answers. Of all the Clan cats, Ravenspirit would be one of the closest to their warrior ancestors, because she was a medicine cat!

Perhaps she shouldn't bother her whilst she was tending to Sharpfang - soon enough she'd have to go and fetch him some herbs, wouldn't she? Or maybe it was something she could do to him - pump the venom out of his body? No, that didn't sound right . . . well, Ravenspirit ought to have the answer. She was the medicine cat. Of course she would know how to treat him . . . wouldn't she?

Anyway, this wasn't relevant to the matter at hand; Sharpfang was suffering before them, and Foxflower was stood there like a useless weed. She should offer to fetch herbs for Ravenspirit . . . but now she'd started to think about StarClan, she couldn't stop. Some radical rumours were being thrown about around the Clan, saying that StarClan had deserted them. That couldn't be true!

"Ravenspirit, I know you're busy," Foxflower began, desperate to have the answers in her paws, "and I know this isn't the right time, but . . . what's happened to StarClan? Because if this doesn't turn out well . . ." She turned fearfully to Sharpfang, lying on the tree roots. If StarClan had disappeared, and Sharpfang didn't make it, what would happen to him? Would he simply fade away, not going to any place?

She gulped; it was hard to push the words out, but they had to think about the worst possible situation. "If Sharpfang doesn't make it, then where will he go?" She paused for a moment before adding, in a slightly sharper tone, "Is StarClan even there any more?"

664.

[Toadie]

Sharpfang swallowed. His throat was dry. He could hear Foxflower mentioning something about Ravenspirit, the clan medicine cat, and he silently hoped that she'd know what to do. His eyes were beginning to shut, though he didn't know whether he was going to pass out or die. He wasn't strong enough to fight off the venom, and the symptoms were just becoming worse.

From what he could see of Ravenspirit, she didn't look sure of herself, which made him worry. Maybe she really didn't know how to treat a snake bite, and this was going to be in the end of him. One fateful walk out in the swamp... at least he'd be going out doing something somewhat noble, instead of simply dying in his sleep.

What worried him the most was that he couldn't feel the presence of his ancestors around him. Usually StarClan were there to comfort him in times of trouble, but this time they were absent from his side. He hadn't done anything to garner StarClan's abandonment, he knew. He only hoped that, if today was the day he died, they would be there to come and bring him to StarClan with them.

He could hear Foxflower talking about StarClan now, with doubt. It disconcerted him, for he was at death's door, and he didn't want StarClan to not be there if he passed on. If they weren't there, where would he go? Would his spirit be trapped in unrest for all of eternity, or would he simply fade into nothingness?

OOC: It's not very long, sorry. My mom wants to use the computer.

[SWEET♥]

[bg=black][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] RAVENSPIRIT: WESTCLAN MEDICINE CAT Ravenspirit's ears went back when she found that StarClan was still being silent towards her. She cursed bitterly, knowing that it would be nearly impossible to figure out what the cure was. She only knew one of the ingredients... yellowroot. There was another one, but she couldn't remember the name of it. She had seen it laying around in the medicine cat's den, but she didn't know where to find it. She looked at Foxflower when the elder asked her a question about StarClan. She looked down, trying to think of how to answer. "I don't know what's happened to StarClan," she murmured. She thought that maybe she'd been the only one with problems speaking with the ancestors, but it seemed like Foxflower was also feeling devoid of spiritual contact. "I don't know if they're still there, and I don't know what will happen to Sharpfang if he... if he doesn't make it." Now thinking about this concerned her deeply. If there was no StarClan anymore, what would happen to a cat who died? She swallowed, closing her eyes and trying to think of the name of the other herb she needed. She could barely even remember what it looked like, though. She shook her head sadly, opening her eyes and seeing what a state Sharpfang was in. "Foxflower, do you remember anything about the remedy for snake bites?" she asked. Ravenspirit wondered if maybe the elder had picked up on it once during her long lifetime. "There's some kind of herb that I need, but all I can remember was the purple flowers..." She didn't know the name for the plant - echinacea, also known as scared plant or the purple coneflower - but maybe Foxflower did.

[mysteryfaith]

Foxflower was stunned, to say the least. Ravenspirit was asking her for help? But . . . but she was just an elder! She had never taken an interest in medicine, despite her many trips to the medicine cat den; in her old age, she got plenty of coughs and aches, meaning the stockpile of herbs had become like her second den. She'd seen them so many times, it was a wonder why she wasn't a medicine cat herself - she could see it now, all the leaves and flowers piled up neatly in little bundles . . .

She cast her mind back, trying to recall the last snake bite in the Clan. If her memory was correct, then it was a small apprentice, who had been desperately trawling the swamps to find a snake to catch. He'd found a snake all right - attached to his leg, clinging on with all of its might and making him yowl out like a moon-old kit. She couldn't think of when that was - nor which medicine cat treated the little squirt - but the healer definitely used two herbs . . .

"There were two herbs that were used," she muttered, her eyes half-shut as she struggled to think of that distant memory. Everything was slightly blurry in her mind's eye, but she forced herself to stay in that moment of time, looked around the faded image for the herbs the medicine cat had used. "Yellowroot was one," she remembered suddenly, spotting the herb in her memory.

Now, the pressure was mounting on her shoulders; Sharpfang was dying before them, and it all lay on her shoulders to think of the herb. She didn't blame Ravenspirit for not knowing the entire herb store off-by-heart; there were hundreds of different plants in the forest, and all of them had a different medicinal purpose.

Plus, she felt slightly sorry for Ravenspirit - StarClan had apparently disappeared. This worried her, as she was closer to death and their starry realms than most of the other Clan cats, but it must absolutely terrify the medicine cat; after all, it was vital for her to be close to StarClan. She was the medicine cat; if anything went wrong in the Clan, it was up to her to contact her ancestors and find out what the source of the problem was. If she couldn't do that . . . how could she be a proper healer for the Clan?

Scolding herself for letting her mind wander, Foxflower dragged herself back to the snake bite memory, and focused on the other herb next to the yellow root. It was purple, flowery - not a leaf or a root - and she could remember the medicine cat uttering its name once or twice . . .

It was no use. She'd have to drag herself further into the memory to find out what the flower was, and how she could help Sharpfang. She shut her eyes, and let herself fall back into the sweet folds of nostalgia; for a moment, it felt as if she were actually there, sat in the den like she was so many moons ago, watching the apprentice convulse and be treated by the mystery medicine cat.

"Be strong," the medicine cat told the apprentice. Foxflower watched on, her eyes wide as the apprentice broke out in another fit, gargling with pain. "We have to treat this cat now. Go and fetch the Clan leader!" he added with a snap towards a faceless warrior who stood nearby, sending the young she-cat running out of the den.

"I'm going to treat you with this," the medicine cat murmured softly, pushing the two piles of herbs towards the victim and inspecting them for any abnormalities. "This is yellowroot, and this is the purple coneflower.[/i]

Foxflower could have stayed in that memory for all eternity - back then, she was a little bit younger, a little bit stronger - but she had the name; it was time to return to reality and save Sharpfang![/color] "It's the purple coneflower," she blurted out to Ravenspirit, focusing desperately on the young cat's eyes for any sign of recognition - did the medicine cat know it, or had her mentor died before she could have been taught what it looked like? "I remember it now. The herbs were yellowroot and purple coneflower!"[/font]

754.[/size]

[Toadie]

With Ravenspirit and Foxflower talking about StarClan's disappearance, Sharpfang could only swallow, his worst fears confirmed. Now he knew he couldn't die. If he did, he couldn't rest in peace with his ancestors... they weren't there anymore. He shook his head weakly. He could only hope that the medicine cat could save him, but she did not seem sure of herself.

He heard them talking about herbs, but their voices echoed in his head. Could it be that the medicine cat of WestClan didn't know the right herbs to use for a snake bite cure? Oh, StarClan, if you haven't abandoned us... please save me, he thought. He wasn't young, but he didn't feel like it was his time to go yet.

Foxflower paused, apparently thinking about something. Sharpfang was beginning to lose consciousness. His eyes closed, and he could see the darkness fogging in front of him. His whole life was going before him, from the day became an apprentice to the snake attack that had given him his name.

Back when he was young, a snake wouldn't have been anything. Now that he was older, the very creature that had given him his noble warrior name was most likely going to be the death of him.

(OOC: Not got much to post about with a cat going unconcious, sorry. XD)

[SWEET♥]

[bg=black][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] RAVENSPIRIT: WESTCLAN MEDICINE CAT When Foxflower said the words, the words that Ravenspirit had been looking for, her indigo eyes shot open wide. "Yes, yes, that's it!" she meowed. The words brought back images of the flower, and now she could picture it perfectly. She remembered what it was by what the previous medicine cat had said. She'd indicated to the flowers, and told her their name. No longer did she have just a vague misremembering in her mind. The only trouble was, she wasn't sure where to find them. She looked at Foxflower with worry. "Foxflower, I don't want to ask too much of you, but if you know what the herbs look like, could you help me find them?" asked the young medicine cat. She looked around, not seeing either of the plants she needed in immediate sight. She didn't keep a stock of them in the medicine cat's den either, though she certainly would from now on. She looked at Sharpfang and could immediately tell that he didn't have much longer to live. She shook her head, not wanting to lose an elder who probably still had many more moons left to live. She bent down and gave him a quick lick on the ear, wishing that there was something else that she could do to bring him comfort. "Don't worry, Sharpfang," she murmured. "We'll save you." She looked at Foxflower when she murmured the last part. She began her search for the herb, hoping that Foxflower would follow suite and also come looking for them. She scanned back and forth with her indigo eyes, but she knew she would have to search farther. She could only barely remember what the herbs smelled like, so she would have to rely primarily on her sight and not on her sense of smell. OOC: I'm so sorry it took me so long to reply but I got caught up in school.