Private Thread Counsel Requested

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
↫ ⭒ ☽ ⭒ 〄 ⭒ ☾ ⭒ ↬

Nettleplume barely spared a glance up from where he was sorting dried feverfew, his pale blue eyes flicking toward the den entrance with a flicker of impatience. The meticulous organization of his stores was a delicate process, and interruptions - even one from his brother - were barely welcome.

The scent of herbs clung to his paws as he hesitated, tail twitching in irritation. A visitor? From ThunderClan? The thought alone made his whiskers bristle. Unless someone was dying or the sky had fallen, why was a ThunderClan cat requesting his time?

With a measured sigh, he inhaled a lavender bloom drawing in a slow breath. He could already feel the creeping weight of expectation - what could Tigerrush possibly want? The idea of a clan meddling exchange left a sour taste in his mouth, even if his curiosity was teased.

Passing Mintwhisker, he gave him a nod and padded toward the entrance of camp. His steps were brisk, each one deliberate as he pushed through the damp air, bracing himself against the chill of leaf bare. Whatever this was about, he would make sure it was dealt with quickly. Passing the silluette of round Cottonbright, he spied the brown striped pelt of the other medicine cat. "Cottonbright, can you please excuse us for a moment." Of which the she-cat kneaded her paws for the briefest moment before slinking off where the two medicine cats could have their privacy.

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
↫ ⭒ ☽ ⭒ 〄 ⭒ ☾ ⭒ ↬

Nettleplume listened in silence, his sharp blue gaze fixed on Tigerrush as she spoke. His tail flicked, betraying the gears turning in his mind, though his expression remained carefully neutral.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, resisting the urge to scoff. It wasn’t as if he didn’t take her concern seriously...kits were the future of any clan, and anything unusual about their development was worth noting, but this hardly seemed like the kind of crisis that warranted seeking outside counsel. He had expected news of an epidemic, a troubling omen, something of actual consequence! Not a shy kit avoiding playfights.

Still, he could tell by the way Tigerrush held herself that this had been weighing on her. And while he was not inclined to offer comfort, he could offer logic. "You’re asking me for insight..Yet you’ve already ruled out physical illness." He tilted his head slightly, regarding her with quiet scrutiny. "Which means you’re looking for something else. A reason..."

His claws flexed against the cold earth before tucking neatly back into his paws, blinking through memories of his own kithood. "I will admit that I don't have much experience dealing with kits, but I do know that not every kit bursts from the nursery with a need to tackle their denmates into the dirt. Playing with Mintwhisker wasn't very engaging for me." His tone was matter-of-fact, although he wanted to hear Tigerrush out "Is she eating well? Does she flinch at sudden movements? Show fear at the sight of others?"

If Tigerrush wanted his help, he would approach this properly... Try to eliminate possibilities by asking the right questions. The way he saw it, there were only a few explanations: either the kit had experienced some unseen trauma, or she was simply different. Neither was something medicine cats could fix.

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
↫ ⭒ ☽ ⭒ 〄 ⭒ ☾ ⭒ ↬ 

Nettleplume listened intently, his whiskers twitching slightly at Tigerrush’s observations. So the kit in question wasn’t just uninterested in play - she actively avoided others, hid in discomfort. That was different. That was something to consider.

His tail flicked as he mulled over her words, piecing together what little he knew of kits beyond their tendency to be loud, sticky pawed nuisances. Slower than the others. Hesitant. Fearful. None of those were physical ailments, but they could point to something deeper...

He narrowed his eyes slightly, turning her question over in his mind. "No. He was quiet, maybe. Cautious. But that’s not the same thing.” He exhaled sharply, as if the very idea amused him."If this Robinkit truly fears her own clanmates, that’s different. Kits are meant to feel safest within their own camp. Why does she hide? Is it certain cats that unsettle her, or everyone? Has something happened to make her wary?"He tipped his head slightly, his tail curling neatly around his paws before giving his shoulder a methodical lick.

Nettleplume might not have patience for needless fretting, but he had patience for puzzles...and this was starting to feel like one.

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
↫ ⭒ ☽ ⭒ 〄 ⭒ ☾ ⭒ ↬

Nettleplume absorbed Tigerrush’s words...Anxiety could be learned, passed from mother to kit like the scent of milk on their fur. That much made sense. But her mention of a fierce blooded queen brought a new angle to consider.

His tail gave a slow, deliberate flick. "A queen’s temperament can shape a kit..." Nettleplume admitted, tapping his claws idly against the ground in sequence. "If her dame is anxious, then Robinkit would naturally be more attuned to fear - kits watch their mothers closely, after all." He tilted his head slightly to consider an additional angle.

"But if she’s also avoiding another queen entirely, that could be something more direct. An altercation, yes. Or simply a kit learning which battles aren’t worth fighting..." The thought was not unfamiliar to him. He had learned early on which arguments with his mentor, his clanmates, were worth engaging in and which were better left unspoken. Perhaps Robinkit was learning a similar lesson.

His gaze was even, a tad gentler as the young medicine cat appreciated the council and the puzzle it brought along with it. "Speaking to both dams may be wise. If there was an incident, that would explain it. Kits usually don’t grow wary for no reason.” He exhaled slowly, before the cream ticked tom stretched forward, tail lifting in quiet comradery. "And if it’s merely learned behavior from her mother... well. That isn’t something we can fix overnight, but it can be unlearned - at least, in theory."

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
↫ ⭒ ☽ ⭒ 〄 ⭒ ☾ ⭒ ↬

Nettleplume’s whiskers twitched at the question, a flicker of surprise passing through his sharp blue gaze before he settled back into contemplation. A kit like Robinkit, quiet, wary, maybe attuned to the emotions of those around her... Hmm.

His tail curled slightly, and he let the thought roll over in his mind like a stone worn smooth by the river’s current. "Medicine cats should posess an understanding of their clanmates beyond what is spoken aloud. If she is already aware of those nuances, that could be an advantage..."

He exhaled, tipping his head slightly. "But fear is an obstacle. If she shies away from her own kin, would she hesitate when it matters most?" He studied Tigerrush carefully, now aware that she was considering taking this kit on as an apprentice. Starclan willing. 
"Still, it’s something to consider. If she continues to struggle with clan life, offering her a path that allows her to serve in a way that suits her might be more useful - if Starclan finds her worthy.” His expression turned thoughtful, unreadable save for the faintest glimmer of intrigue.

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
↫ ⭒ ☽ ⭒ 〄 ⭒ ☾ ⭒ ↬ 

Nettleplume regarded Tigerrush for a moment, her gratitude met with a simple flick of his tail. He hadn’t offered his insight for thanks, but he supposed he appreciated the sincerity in her words, however formal they seemed to be.

"Just doing what any decent medicine cat should." His whiskers twitched, though there was no real sharpness to his words. If Robinkit was meant for that path, Tigerrush would find out in time.

At her offer, he dipped his head slightly. "I’ll keep that in mind." It wasn’t often he had reason to seek help outside of RiverClan, but the sentiment wasn’t lost on him. Besides it was always useful to have connections beyond his own borders and should an emergency rise, consulting Tigerrush could be an asset. The genuine acknowledgement from an older medicine cat didn't hurt either.

Stepping back, his blue eyes flickered once more to Tigerrush. "Good luck with your kit...” His tone was neutral as those same eyes flickered skyward, briefly. With that, he turned, padding off without ceremony, his mind already onto the next thing demanding his attention.