No Herbs? - Open

[aries]

The season was cold, and snow littered the hard ground of the forest. The snow lay sleepily on the branches of swaying pines and oaks and maples, the snowflakes wishing deperatley not to be woken up from their gentle slumber. Scrawny squirrels and mice shot about at very rare times, like they were hiding from something. Well, they were. Their worst enemy. Felines. A particular feline was padding through the forest in the dead of sunhigh, and setting the little critter's on edge.

The tom was shifting through small bundles of grasses and bushes, looking for any herbs that he may be able to take with him back to his camp. He didn't want to run out when it was the dead of winter. That was a fact that scared him, if it were to happen. This tom was the Medicine Cat of ThunderClan, a large Clan of cats who made their home in the forest of the large swath of land. Many cats made their home there, and others made their home with the other two Clans, ShadowClan and RiverClan. There had been five Clans once. But SkyClan was driven out ages ago, and WindClan had been gone for many a moon.

The tom was large, slender for his gender, but also slightly muscular. His fur was the exact color of the snow littering the ground, and the only thing that stood out clearly were the pink in his ears and nose, and his bright blue eyes. His large paws made tracks in the snow, and he seemed to shiver from the cold every few steps. There were no treats to bring his Clan in the dead of leaf-bare, but there was herbs to bring home, if he could find any. He traveled on, searching every place he knew for the familiar scents of the healing greenery that stocked his den. Nothing. It was all frozen over in this dreadful snow.

Tail drooping, and ears back, Blizzardfur began to pad glumly back the way he had come, checking new spots every so often in hopes of finding anything he could take back. What he was in need of, now more than ever, was catmint. He'd checked the old two-leg nest where it had often grew, but nothing was there. He felt useless for a moment, but then remembered that he shouldn't give up so easily. But the sun was beginning to hide behind the clouds, and snow was beginning to fall. A blizzard was coming.

[Willow]

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[atrb=background,http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r230/Mica556/russettablebg.png] It was cold. Terribly, frigidly cold. Snowflakes drifted lazily to the ground, collecting in great piles upon the ground in ThunderClan territory. The trees were completely leafless and coated in snow. Clouds hid the sun in the sky above, smothering the radiant warmth. A freezing breeze swirled through the trees, blowing snow into huge drifts against tree trunks. The white powder was at least a tail-length deep in some places. “You are an idiot,” a voice muttered in this frigid environment. It was Russetstripe, the newly named ThunderClan elder, insulting himself and his ridiculous ideas of journeying out into the snow in this freezing climate. He was an elder now, with a crippled back leg. He should be back in camp, resting and being waited on by apprentices. But no, he decided he had to go exploring! Sure that would have been a lovely idea… in new-leaf. But in leaf-bare, it wasn’t all too fun. But it was too late to simply turn back now that he was so far away from camp. He might as well satisfy his need for adventure while he was traversing the great blanket of white. Of course there was little exciting out in this weather. Prey was hiding, as it should be and there was neither sight nor sound of another cat. Russetstripe shook his long ginger fur to remove the snow that was beginning to collect there before trudging onward through the snow in an uneven gait. His injured hind leg was mostly useless and not fully healed. He shouldn’t be out walking around, snow or no snow, according to the medicine cat. But he didn’t know how Russetstripe felt being coped up in camp all day long, now did he? He narrowed his green eyes bad-temperedly and scented the air. There was something else there besides the crisp smell of coldness. It was cat-scent and it was close. Curiosity getting the best of the old cat, he followed his nose. And who did he find, padding back in the direction of the camp with his tail trailing through the snow? Blizzardfur, ThunderClan’s medicine cat. Oh great. Now he’s going to reprimand me like I’m some mewling kit probably, Russetstripe thought with a small hiss as he nodded slightly in greeting to the white tom. ___________________________________ words xx 382 audience xx Blizzardfur music xx Lips of an Angel – Hinder comments xx

[aries]

Blizzardfur

Blizzardfur scented the air as he came closer to the elder. He faltered for a moment, and then groaned inwardly. He pushed through a pair of bushes, and gazed with a scolding look at the ginger tom. He shook his head, saying nothing, and padded quickly to him, sniffing his leg, making sure it wasn't infected or anything. He sighed a sigh of relief. "Russetstripe. Do we need to talk about this, again? You need to be in camp, resting that leg, not stressing it." he scolded the elder gently. He wasn't being mean, he was just looking out for his clanmate. He was even being gentle with his words. He never yelled or hissed at his clanmates about things they shouldn't do when they were sick or injured. He simply scolded them in the most tender manner that he possibly could.

He flicked his tail, out of a complete habit, and watched the elder with ice blue eyes. The large white tom flicked snow off his ears, and then spoke, his deep voice carrying softly through the trees. "You look tired too," he began, "If you aren't strong enough to keep infection away, then your leg will never heal enough for you to be able to explore. I know you hate being cooped up, as most warriors and elders do when they are hurt, but I'm only trying to help you. As is my job. Now, can we please get you back to camp? It'd make me feel so much better knowing that you aren't walking around alone in the snow with that leg." Blizzardfur began to fret for his clanmate now, looking pretty amusing to any cat that could pass by.

[Willow]

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[atrb=background,http://i145.photobucket.com/albums/r230/Mica556/russettablebg.png] Russetstripe shifted on his paws restlessly as Blizzardfur pushed through some brown, dead-looking bushes and came to stand in front of him. His eyes were scolding as he looked at the ginger elder who was disobeying his orders to remain inside the camp. He stood still, face scrunched up in irritation, as the medicine cat sniffed his healing leg. I highly doubt it could get infected with all this bloody snow, came his grumpy thoughts as the white tom stepped away with relief on his face. Russetstripe sat moodily as Blizzardfur gently reprimanded him and told him that he should be back in camp. The elder would have preferred yelling to this tender disapproval. He couldn’t snap some snarky response to such gentle words, so he sat silently instead. Ginger ears were flattened against his head as he watched the worry on the medicine cat’s face. He felt like he was getting a horrible guilt-trip, no matter how unintentional it may have been. “I know you hate being cooped up, as most warriors and elders do when they are hurt, but I'm only trying to help you. As is my job. Now, can we please get you back to camp? It'd make me feel so much better knowing that you aren't walking around alone in the snow with that leg.” Russetstripe’s long tabby fur bristled slightly at the young tom’s words and he could keep his mouth shut no longer. “Yet most warriors, when injured, are not told they must become elders,” he pointed out with anger and irritation, not towards the medicine cat, but towards Elkstar’s decision as well as his own clumsiness. Sure, he was old, but he still had many fighting years left in him until he’d broken his leg so severely. “I will go back to camp if only because it is quite unpleasant out here,” he continued in his gruff voice, trying to make it seem as if her really didn’t want to return to camp (though in all honestly, he hated being out in the snow). “Unless you’d like me to help you collect herbs,” he offered after a moment of silence. The white tom seemed to be having little luck on his mission, perhaps an extra set of eyes could help. And Russetstripe did feel slightly bad for having snapped at the gentle medicine cat. ___________________________________ words xx 392 audience xx Blizzardfur music xx Nothing! comments xx Sorry about how long it took me to reply and about the lame post xD I really need to do more with him and get more used to his character.

[{Otter}]

Perhaps, Willowstar, you should have Blizzardfur die in this thread. Perhaps by a fox or something. It can add fuel to Russetstripe's annoyance at being unable to fight as well as he used to.

[Willow]

Instead of making an actual post to have this happen, I shall summarize.

They're heading back to the camp when a fox appears from behind the trees and pounces on Russetstripe. He tries to fight it off but his injured leg gives him problems. Blizzardfur intervenes but is also not the strongest ever. The fox turns its attention to the medicine cat while Russetstripe tries to attack it but his leg gives out. The fox delivers a killing bite to Blizzardfur's neck and drags him away while Russetstripe lays helplessly behind in the snow.