Post by Hazelfoot on Dec 21, 2016 0:25:23 GMT 8
Hazelfoot watched with a certain cold, quiet satisfaction as the tabby limped away back towards his own territory. Her expression gave away nothing; it was as still and cold as a rock. Behind the sharp green eyes, however, the cat's mind was working busily, as always. One might not think it to look at her, and one certainly would not after hearing her, but Hazelfoot had a sharp mind which was constantly busy. Right at this moment, she was wondering whether she hadn't been a little hard on the Ivyclan warrior. He had, after all, not entered her (well, Roseclan's, but it came to the same thing) territory on purpose- although it was always possible that the whole thing had been an elaborate lie to cover an Ivyclan spy. But no, that stench of dog was still fresh in her memory, and indeed still lingered on the air, adding a sharp note to the familiar earthy scents of the forest. It was beyond doubt that the warrior had just escaped a terrible death, and what had she done? Teased him, humiliated him, embarrassed him at a time when he had been vulnerable and in need of aid. Hardly behaviour worthy of a medicine cat.
Her mentor's voice echoed in her ears, murmuring words about aiding the sick without discrimination, relieving suffering wherever you found it, treating injury wherever possible. Hazelfoot sighed. She had spent too long in the company of warriors who lived for the benefit of only themselves and their clan, whispering distrustfully of the other Clan which dwelt across the border. Her priorities needed some examining.
Standing straight and stretching every muscle in her body, Hazelfoot tasted the air. She could detect little through the pungent stench of the dog which still hung in the air like acrid smoke, so she turned and began to pace back towards the Roseclan camp, her mind already filling with thoughts of herbs to be sorted, dressings to be checked, kits to be visited and the thousand and one other little jobs which made up a medicine cat's daily routine. It was infrequent that she got a full night's sleep and she was constantly visited by a neverending stream of cats, but she wouldn't change it for the world. It was more than her job, it was her life. She would get better and better. And she wouldn't have it any other way.
Her mentor's voice echoed in her ears, murmuring words about aiding the sick without discrimination, relieving suffering wherever you found it, treating injury wherever possible. Hazelfoot sighed. She had spent too long in the company of warriors who lived for the benefit of only themselves and their clan, whispering distrustfully of the other Clan which dwelt across the border. Her priorities needed some examining.
Standing straight and stretching every muscle in her body, Hazelfoot tasted the air. She could detect little through the pungent stench of the dog which still hung in the air like acrid smoke, so she turned and began to pace back towards the Roseclan camp, her mind already filling with thoughts of herbs to be sorted, dressings to be checked, kits to be visited and the thousand and one other little jobs which made up a medicine cat's daily routine. It was infrequent that she got a full night's sleep and she was constantly visited by a neverending stream of cats, but she wouldn't change it for the world. It was more than her job, it was her life. She would get better and better. And she wouldn't have it any other way.
