Warrior Cat Clans 2 (WCC2 aka Classic) is a roleplay site inspired by the Warrior series by Erin Hunter. Whether you are a fan of the books or new to the Warrior cats world, WCC2 offers a diverse environment with over a decade’s worth of lore for you - and your characters - to explore. Join us today and become a part of our ongoing story!
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11.06.2022 The site has been transformed into an archive. Thank you for all the memories here!
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"Vulturepa - malice," he corrected swiftly, a wan and apologetic smile greeting the medicine cat as Crow stepped inside his den. "Sorry, the last time I was in here, so was Graythorn." It hadn't been too long before the previous healer's accident that he'd tended to the deputy's son, back when Firepaw got himself into a scrape with Netherpaw and a rogue, and it was almost as if he could still hear the tom berating the apprentices for their foolish bravado. The times were changing so swiftly, it seemed. "How's he doing? How are you doing?"
Of course, small talk wasn't what brought Crow here; the seasons were beginning to transition again, and with the cold air starting to rush in during the nights, his bad shoulder was beginning to ache as it tended to do. He'd never sought out professional help as far as that was concerned, but something - be it intuition or something else - urged him to now.
The young tom was used to the mix up in the names, he had only been Greythorns apprentice for a few moons before the elderly tom had his accident and left Vulturemalice to become the next medicine cat of SummerClan. Plus, it had only been about two moons since he took his new name. When the dark furred tom called in after him, Vulturemalice had been sorting through some herbs, picking out the dead ones and pushing them off to the side to dispose of.
"It's all good," he said with a flick of his tail in a greeting. "Greythorn is dealing with his . . . injuries, and so am I." He turned to look at Devotedcrow with a curious look on his face. He had spent some time out with Cinderflower the other day, and he wondered how much the she-cat was like her father. "What can I do for you?"
Vulturemalice would find that, though Cinderflower had both her parents' kindness in spades, where his daughter was rainbows and overflowing thoughts, Crow was a quieter, more thoughtful presence. He listened intently as the other tom spoke, bright eyes sympathetic of his situation. "I'm sure it's shocking, but from what I've heard - mostly from Sunpetal, you know how subtle she is - you've been doing great work. I figured I would come see for myself just how good you are," he grinned, and leaning on his good side, he rolled his bad shoulder, wincing at the stiffness in the joint, the scarred flesh stretching uncomfortably. "I got this back when I was an apprentice and, like the arrogant little brat I was, never got it checked out."
At the mention of Sunpetal, Vulturemalice perked up. "Yeah," he chuckled with a shake of his head, "she's good at that." The young tom strode over to the dark furred tom, pressing his paw along the length of the old injury. "It's actually pretty swollen," he meowed, half to himself. Turning back to his stores, he began to mix and chew a few different herbs. Turning back to Devotedcrow, he motioned the tom to lay on his good side.
Rubbing the balm into the dark fur, Vultremalice said, "This is a bit of skullcap and nettle, but mostly it's chamomile."
A soft hiss, not of pain but more of the discomfort of feeling pressure against the tender skin, left him, but that was about all the complaining he was allowing himself. As a means of distracting himself, he sniffed at the salve being applied, wrinkling his nose. "What's all this do? Jeez, you'd think with four kits who became Garden Keepers, I'd have learned a thing or two," he chuckled roughly.
"A little bit to numb, but mainly to help with the swelling and soothe," he grunted, sniffing to make sure the mixture was in place. "Won't be a perfect fix, but it should help a lot with the pain. Greythorns joints are starting to get really bad, so he let me experiment on him." The thought of his former mentor sent a warm wave through the young tom, glad he had what little chance he could learn from the older cat. "I'm sure there are many more mixtures he could teach me, we are trying to figure out a way of communicating with tail flicks and paw movement."
Rolling back onto his skinny haunches, he gave the dark furred tom a once over. "Should be kicking in now, how does it feel?"
