Private Thread Howling Winds and Woes

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
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The medicine cat padded along the damp earth, his tail flicking idly as he listened to the howling wind weave through the Twinwillows. It was a biting sort of chill, the kind that cut deep if one stood still too long. But Nettleplume wasn't one to linger. Not when the thaw was bringing life back to RiverClan’s land.

His ears twitched at Coldgaze’s question, and he glanced at the deputy with an amused glint in his pale blue eyes. He’s actually trying. The thought pleased him more than he would admit.

"Several, if you know where to look." Nettleplume replied smoothly. He stepped around a half thawed patch of moss, nosing at the damp soil beneath it. "Coltsfoot, celandine, even some early chickweed if you're lucky. But what I'm after today are fresh shoots of tansy. Easier to find now before everything else overgrows it."

He straightened, flicking his tail against Coldgaze’s shoulder. "Think you can spot any before I do?" His tone was light, teasing, but there was a challenge there too. If Coldgaze was going to spend the day at his side, he might as well make himself useful.

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Nettleplume hummed, drawing out the moment as if he were considering Coldgaze’s offer. A secret in exchange for a lesson? Now that was an interesting trade. He could appreciate a fair bargain.

"Tempting..." He mused, his whiskers twitching with amusement as he nosed around the moss for the shoots he was looking for without lifting his eyes. "Alright, listen closely then." He took a few steps forward, his sharp eyes scanning the undergrowth before stopping at a patch of new growth peeking from the thawing soil.

"Tansy shoots are thin, with a slightly serrated edge to their leaves. Not as soft as chickweed, not as glossy as celandine. When you crush them, they’ll have a faintly bitter smell - like the flowers, but weaker." He glanced at Coldgaze with a knowing smirk. "But a healthy cat wouldn’t want to eat them raw, unless you enjoy a stomachache."

He sat back on his ticked haunches, taking a brief reprieve near some high foliage from the most biting of the wind. "Now, what’s this secret of yours?" If Coldgaze was going to make him work for it, he expected something good in return.

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Nettleplume’s ears flicked at the implication, his pale blue eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Coldgaze’s expression. The deputy was enjoying this far too much. A plot brewing beneath the surface, whispered between lines.

Sunningrocks. Always a source of tension, always a prize worth fighting for.

"Hmm." He exhaled slowly, watching the grasses shudder as Coldgaze brushed them aside. He began to speak, his voice measured. "I think that ThunderClan has never been one to share nicely. And if certain cats are considering their options… well." He tilted his head, the barest trace of a smirk touching his lips. "They'd best remember that no plan remains unscathed as time goes by."

His tail flicked against the damp earth as he nosed through the foliage, his mind turning. This wasn’t just idle chatter. Coldgaze had a plan, or the makings of one.

"And I think..." He added smoothly, glancing sidelong at his deputy. His tail brushed the ground idly, disturbing the debris until a couple shoots could be seen, where he promptly plucked two of the three healthy leaves growing from one. "You might have me ask the stars?" His voice was lighter now, a whisper not insincere. "If you're looking for a sign, I could keep my ears open for whispers in the wind - search the forest for omens. Perhaps StarClan already knows when the tide will turn in our favor."

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
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Nettleplume stilled for just a breath at the gentle rasp of Coldgaze’s tongue behind his ear, the unexpected gesture drawing a flick of his tail. Affection wasn’t something the deputy often indulged in - not openly, at least. And certainly not for just anyone. Neither did the medicine cat, who believed himself distant, in many ways, to his own clanmates and closer to the stars who always seem so far away at times.

The medicine cat allowed himself a small, purr though he kept his gaze on the delicate leaves he was plucking from the thawing soil. Such life this early in the season should be cherish - life should be cherished. A confrontation with ThunderClan was anything but. "Then I’ll search." He murmured, his voice even.

His ears twitched as Coldgaze continued, the excitement barely hidden beneath his careful words. He was serious about this...more than just idle speculation or just a fantasy of conquest. Nettleplume knew better than to pry too openly, but the deputy wasn’t keeping his cards as close to his chest as he might think.

"Mm. ThunderClan has made their share of enemies." He pulled away gently, placing each of the leaves harvested in a sheltered pile. A bit of dirt would keep the wind from blowing them away. A pause, before he glanced up, curiosity flickering in his gaze. "But... I think you're speaking of something specific, aren’t you?" He exhaled softly, the bitter, but welcome scent of the herb still in his nostrils. Specifics would be more welcome to the anticipating chatter that often exhausted him.

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
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Nettleplume’s gaze fell to the scar Coldgaze gestured to, a faint furrow creasing his brow. He remembered treating that wound and remembered how deep it had been. Not the work of some frightened loner swiping in panic. No, that had been deliberate. Controlled.

"A healer who claws half your face off doesn’t exactly scream StarClan’s chosen." He muttered dryly, his voice soft but edged.

He listened as Coldgaze spoke, his pale eyes narrowing not in suspicion, but consideration. This stranger had spoken of shared enemies, of knowledge that might shift the tides. Nettleplume didn’t care for politics - he cared for his Clan, and for what the stars whispered in the quiet hours of night. But this? This carried weight.

Before he could answer, a rustle of wings pulled his attention upward. The sharp trill of a blackbird rang out through the stillness, its wings slicing across the canopy in a burst of movement. Nettleplume froze, head tilting as he tracked its flight, eyes distant.

"A blackbird…" He murmured under his breath.

Nettleplume was silent for a long moment. He looked back to Coldgaze, more serious now. "They warn of danger...but also of opportunity. ' To take warning from the blackbird would be an opportunity you cannot shirk. ' " He paused. "If this loner offers a path... it may still be worth treading. But you should let me meet him."

His tone grew sharper now, more resolute. "If he claims to speak for StarClan, I’ll be the judge of that. Not you. Not anyone else." His tail swept over the dirt, brushing aside a stray leaf as his voice turned icy, resolute. "Whatever he’s offering you… I want to hear it from his own tongue."

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
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Nettleplume watched Coldgaze closely, noting the flicker of memory behind the deputy's eyes, the telltale flick of his tail. He didn’t interrupt...he let the silence stretch after the blackbird’s departure, letting Coldgaze speak his piece. The medicine cat’s gaze remained fixed, steady and unflinching, even as Coldgaze squared his shoulders.

When the deputy finished, Nettleplume sat still for a breath more, his cream tail curling over his paws. "I don’t need to be a better judge of danger." His voice was about as warm as the frozen river. "I’m not trying to be. But if this loner is walking the line between prophecy and peril, then it isn’t enough for me to hear about him second-paw."

His voice dropped, quieter now, but no less fierce. "You’re right. He’s dangerous. And that’s exactly why I have to meet him. Because you might think you can walk into this storm alone and come out unscathed, but we both know storms don’t care how clever the cat is walking into them."

A pause. The young medicine cat exhaled slowly, eyes half lidding with the weight of this measure. His blue eyes softened...just a little. "You’re not the only one trying to keep others safe."

Then, with a soft flick of his tail, he stood, his gaze returning briefly to the canopy where the blackbird had vanished. "If you go to him again, I go too. I don’t care if I have to follow your pawsteps like an apprentice in the mud."

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
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Nettleplume’s whiskers twitched not quite a smile, but something flickered behind his eyes at Coldgaze’s first reply. He said nothing, only process the observation from the deputy's perspective. Apprenticeship didn't seem to suit him, although he was more than eager - it wasn't short of urgency, full of pressure of trying to absorb all his mentor was able to teach him before her eyesight left her. Before the clan's well being fell on him.

Still, the edge in his stance dulled as Coldgaze continued. He heard the compromise in the deputy’s words, the careful shaping of something that wasn’t quite a concession but wasn’t refusal either. The younger tom tilted his head, studying him again as a young strategist parsing out a plan.

"Neutral ground. Close enough that I could run if things go sideways. Close enough that I could drag you back by the scruff, if it comes to that." The mental image of him hauling his body through the reeds like an errant kit was almost enough to make him scoff aloud. He dipped his head, slow but resolute.

"I want to know when. If he speaks for StarClan, then he should be ready to be seen by their chosen. And if he lies…" His tone grew quiet again, the kind of cold that came with certainty. "Then I’ll know." His tail flicked once more, decisive. "StarClan speaks in many tongues...some louder than others." He plucked another healthy stem, where he had already made a small, tidy pile he could bring back.

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Nettleplume paused, the last tansy shoot still caught between his maw. When Coldgaze loosened the word 'raven' from his lips, it was rather interesting for the deputy to ask. He placed the tansy in a pile, side eying the classic chocolate tom. "Ravens are rarely idle messengers..." He began, his voice carrying a note of myticism. Animals and omens were a curious oddity, and he was pleased to speak of them.

"Ravens are clever, oppertunistic scavengers.They trail danger rather than cause it - and they remember every face that wrongs them." He tapped the stem against his fore paw, reciting the old omen every apprentice of Willowfrost had learned by heart:

" ‘Clever Raven, dark as night, in groups mobs will shadow, harass, and fight.’ " Blue eyes lifted to meet Coldgaze’s. He started to ramble, a medicine cat in his element. "A lone raven hints at secrets seen and picked - But a murder of them means trouble will dog your paw steps, striking when you’re weakest, wearing you down..."

He nosed the little pile of herbs together, fixing the deputy with a steady look. He blinked once, his next words slow, as if tasting them as they come. It was a warning, of a young medicine cat on edge."If your loner keeps such company...be sure your price isn’t steeper than you’re willing to pay." The stem joined the bundle, neat and precise. He couldn't keep the thought of the revelation from his eyes, bright and alight with wonder despite the danger. A cat and a raven.

"Can you tell me any more details about him...or the raven?"

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
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Nettleplume stilled. The last bundle of tansy, halfway to being sorted, slipped from his paw as Coldgaze spoke. His ears twitched, eyes locked. The details of the cat were typical, however, what came next was not.

For once, the medicine cat’s mouth had gone dry. "…No..." Voice low, laced with something rare for Nettleplume. It was apprehension. "That is not a usual medicine cat thing. Not even close."

He pushed the herbs aside, ignoring the tidy arrangement he'd been maintaining. He glanced over his shoulder as if someone, or something could be listening in."There are stories... Ones even Frosteyes only half believed. Cats who could speak with birds of the sky or beasts of the land. But they’re old stories. That kind of communion hasn’t been seen in... generations. Maybe not since the time before Ashstar."

He began pacing, not even realizing it. The movement was slight, a subtle back and forth as if trying to make sense of what he'd just heard. "If what you say is true…Then this ‘Kosmo’ isn’t just strange. He’s walking a path not meant for ordinary paws. " Nettleplume finally stopped, his blue gaze returning to Coldgaze with a weight that was no longer just curious. It was grave.

"I don’t know what he is, Coldgaze. But whatever powers he’s mingling with... they aren’t ones our Clans are prepared to face without more knowledge. And if he’s already set paw in ThunderClan, it means we’re all within reach.”

A moment passed. Nettleplume needed to confer with Frosteyes, and Mothermouth at the next meeting. A raven that listens...A cat who commands it. It wasn't just a warning, it was an omen. And he needed to beseech StarClan on the matter as soon as he was able.

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
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Nettleplume felt the shift before it happened the moment Coldgaze stepped into his pacing arc... It was grounding. His paws slowed. His spine relaxed, barely. The medicine cat’s ears flicked backward at the weight of the tail on his own, his chest lifting slowly with the steady breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Coldgaze was all calm certainty, waters wrapped in ice.

But not dismissive and that mattered. Nettleplume didn’t flinch at the press of his head. His pale blue eyes drifted to the edge of the clearing for a long moment. Nothing. Just Coldgaze’s warmth and the quiet rustle of herb bundles at their paws.

"I don’t want you to call it off." He said at last, voice low and firm. “If we silence the trail now, we lose the only thread we have." Maybe he could find out where such abilities came from, ones that even their ancestors were apprehensive of.

Nettleplume tilted his head slightly, and for a fleeting moment, the usual sardonic glimmer in his eyes returned. "So yes, oh wise deputy, I would like you to set that meeting." He let out a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh, then more softly. "And I want you to be there with me."