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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Of all the ways the mage could be spending her time, the last thing she had in mind was marinating moss balls in an ungodly amount of bile. Though it was technically part of her job description. She would talk to Creek about this later. Though technically she had volunteered for this. Taking it upon herself to gather enough mice and moss to do the job almost immediately after seeing their newest ambassador for the first time. Seeing the patchy but otherwise well groomed white tom was enough to raise her suspicions and try to come up with a solution to try and help him. She didn't bring her idea to the cat in question though, just sent a messenger to tell him when to meet her and where. It was a grand gesture for someone who was essentially a stranger but in truth she wasn't just doing it to ease the anxious cat's paranoia. She was also doing this as an unspoken favor to a certain proxy.
He slunk across the camp toward the Mage, dark gaze flashing over his surroundings. A little slow to trust new cats, Hamlin had been keeping his distance from his new groupmates and focused on exploring by himself. He hadn't expected anyone to come up to him, much less send a messenger to summon him. Had he made a mistake already or was it some strange initiation?
Lyn slowed to a halt a few tail-lengths from the Mage, wrinkling his muzzle at the scent emanating from the moss balls at her paws. What was she doing? He had a feeling he wasn't going to like this very much.
"You wanted to see me?"
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POSTEDJul 24, 2020 3:32:25 GMT -5 TO primal instinct
Tempest's eyes briefly lit up when Lyn entered the den, she would never openly admit it but the small cat was excited, at the notion that this might actually work. Admittedly she should of asked Creek for permission before attempting this but she hadn't thought to ask him before now. She nodded briskly, beckoning the white tom closer with her tail. "Yes." she said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over the den. "I have an idea that might help you with your tick problem." she explained nodding down to the soaked balls of moss at her paws. "I'm going to give you a tick bath."
He recoiled at the mention of his problem, but even the word made his skin start to crawl again. The ticks were difficult to ignore on their own, but thinking about them immediately made the situation worse. He backed up a step and sat down to scratch at his skin, his claws leaving faint red marks over the bare patches of skin.
"A tick bath?" Lyn tasted the words on his tongue and looked to her skeptically. That sounded rather unpleasant, but if it helped... should he be trusting a stranger to heal him? His weight shifted to the side as he debated.
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POSTEDJul 25, 2020 1:13:10 GMT -5 TO primal instinct
"Yes a tick bath." She repeated, sounding a little annoyed this time. A small frown settled on the stormy she-cat's lips for a moment before she hooked one of the soaked moss balls in her claws. No way was she letting this anywhere near her mouth. Carefully she rung out the moss ball onto Lyn's back before using the moss to spread it throughout his fur until the whole area was saturated. Once the moss ball was dry she tossed it aside and grabbed the next to repeat the process. As usual the mage had lapsed into complete silence as she worked.
Lyn tensed as she came near him, his lips beginning to pull back, but after a pause he reluctantly let her come close and start the bath. His ears flattened as he waited uncomfortably for her to finish; the smell stung his eyes and he hated the thought of having to lick this out of his coat when this was over. It was wet and the moss ball was rough and scratchy, but admittedly it felt kind of nice to scratch at his buggy fur and irritated skin.
"Are you almost done?" he asked finally when his nose was adjusted to the unbearable smell.
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POSTEDAug 1, 2020 1:26:10 GMT -5 TO primal instinct
The she-cat rolled her eyes, finishing her task before tossing the last of the moss balls aside and stepping back to admire her handiwork. "Now I'm done." she responded, paying the white tom's bitter outlook on this whole thing no mind. "How does that feel? Better? Worse? No change." she asked, looking at him in earnest, anxiously waiting his response. "Though We'll have to continue treatment for more positive results."
As soon as she stepped away from him, Lyn backpedaled a few steps to place more distance between them. His pelt prickled underneath her gaze and he took a deep breath, convincing himself to ignore her before he turned to study his coat. He sniffed his fur and nosed through it. Though the smell was awful and he loathed the clammy feeling the soaked moss had left behind on his fur and skin, he did feel a little bit better. His skin didn't itch quite as much, soothed by the treatment, and he couldn't feel or see any tiny restless bug movements.
"Better," he answered cautiously, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. His muzzle twisted in revulsion at the idea of coming back. "How often?"
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POSTEDAug 1, 2020 1:44:08 GMT -5 TO primal instinct
The mage seemed to consider this for a long moment assessing the white tom, not at all bothered or ofended by the distance he had put between the two of them, in fact she preferred it this way too. "Hm... I think once a week to start should be safe, and then if it proves helpfully, once every two weeks." She nodded to herself satisfied with her own answer, her thoughts already turning inward as she planned when she would need to collect more moss and bile. "Oh and don't worry, I'll speak to Shina about your treatments, but I won't tell him what they're for if you don't want him to know."
"Once a week?" Lyn stared at her in disbelief. That was barely enough time to get his stench out of his coat. The other hunters would drive him from the den if he started to stink like this all the time. He would have enough trouble fitting in just because he was new; how was he supposed to get along with the others now?
Even as he waited he started to scratch absently at his foreleg with his other front paw. He couldn't feel any ticks lodged there, but the habit was deeply ingrained in him now. "I don't know. How can I do my job when I stink like this?"
