Spottedpaw had just stopped in the medicine den to grab some borage for one of the queens when pawsteps sounded behind her. Again another clanmate called for Lotusfire, but their expression lightened when they saw her instead. It was beginning to make her feel warm and fuzzy. It had only been four moons but she had learned so much already.

"Hello Dawnclaw." She chirped good-naturedly. Her mother had told her to be wary around the former Ridgeclan warrior when he first arrived. Some cats still did not trust him. But if Hailstar trusted him, Spottedpaw trusted him. Dawnclaw had always seemed sincere. And besides even if she wanted to, the medicine cat code forbade her from prejudice.

"Go ahead and settle in that nest there, and start cleaning it please." She gestured with her muzzle. She could very well clean it herself, but she wanted to give Dawnclaw the opportunity to do it himself instead of pouncing on him like a queen and her kit. "What happened?" She had thought she had heard something distant echoing through the forest earlier. Maybe that was him?

She wasn't close enough with Dawnclaw to know his regular disposition. But she knew an embarrassed cat when she saw one - it took one to know one afterall. She never imagined him, of all cats, to be embarrassed. Spottedpaw could tell he was trying to hide his embarrassment however, so she did not press too hard into the subject. Everyone made mistakes hunting, at least once. Granted - most hunting related injuries she saw were falls, from apprentices or senior warriors. But she thought no less of Dawnclaw for being injured. He was a very skilled warrior, one of Mistclan's elite. A brief flash of memory blossomed in her mind. Dawnclaw was probably one of the Ridgeclan cats who attacked Mistclan…She was glad he was on their side now.

Spottedpaw had been too young to truly understand what all was going on, but she knew all of the queens in the nursery were distraught. She remembered the fear-scent well, and how her mother curled around her so tightly she felt both secure and strangled. She remembered the cuts and bites her father had when he returned. How tired he was, what blood smelled like, and how her mother groomed him much like she did her - with both worry and love.

All of this happened within a split second, the memory fading just as fast as it came, and she resumed her treatment without dwelling on it.

Slowly, she approached him, sticking her head down to inspect the wound on his foreleg. It was definitely a bite, but it did not look like one from a snake. That was good. She had never hunted for her own food before, her knowledge of bite marks came solely from Lotusfire, but she could presume by its size it was probably a rodent of some kind. Not as bad as a snake, but he was at extra risk for infection. Regardless, the treatment was the same.

"I'll be back in a minute," she chirped, trotting deeper into the medicine den.

When she returned to Dawnclaw's side, she had a cluster of alder and celandine she had begun to chew into a poultice.

Satisfied with the consistency, she transferred the mixture to her upturned paw before drawing closer to her patient. "This shouldn't sting, but it might start to get cold - that's normal." It did not look deep enough for the poultice to cause any extra pain. She could scent a storm coming in tonight and with the leaf-fall wind picking up in half-hearted gusts, she figured the wetness of the poultice would grow colder as it dried, and it would also take longer, allowing the mixture to stay moist enough to work its benefits. It was a rather thick poultice, spread maliciously thin enough it could support itself, versus in the sweaty heat of green-leaf, though she did place a very thin layer of cobweb over the middle of it to prevent it from cracking over the wound. She was being frugal with her supplies as the harshest season of the four lurked around the corner. Though she still provided the best care she could. She hoped Lotusfire would be proud of her mindfulness…even if they did not show it. They never showed it.

"Wait here a while for the poultice to dry and crust around the edges. You should be fine to continue hunting tomorrow. No combat training today though - so the poultice doesn't get rubbed off. And be careful climbing into your nest tonight. Come back tomorrow afternoon and I can remove it." Dawnclaw was known around camp for his rigorous training schedule. When she took away hunting, she thought surely he would default to that.

She scurried back into the den to fetch the borage she was originally here for, making a motion for Dawnclaw to stay put as she detoured to the nursery.

Emerging a few minutes later, when she returned she was glad to see she had been quick enough that Dawnclaw hadn't yet taken the opportunity to run off, ignoring her instructions.

Returning to the medicine den, she paused for a moment in front of Dawnclaw, her neck stretching upwards to observe the Skytree from its mighty roots. "...Dawnclaw?" She started out softly, hoping somehow her question would not offend him. "Can I ask you something?" She turned more quiet before amending her statement. ..."about Ridgeclan." She felt the need to explain herself, maybe even convince him if he refused. "I don't talk to other clan cats much. And I've only ever met Rainstorm and Frostpaw a few times at the moonpool. And it's frowned upon to ask questions about our earthly divisions there." She desperately wanted to chat with Frostpaw more, alone. She felt they would understand more than anyone the stresses of being a medicine cat apprentice. Rainstorm seemed much nicer than Lotusfire though, at least at first glance. Afterall, she never saw Rainstorm give Frostpaw the critical stares her mentor gave her.

It was obvious from the moment her words had hit the air that Dawnclaw was uncomfortable with the subject.

She couldn't blame him. He was probably asked all sorts of questions by Hailstar when he first wanted to join Mistclan. Dawnclaw wasn't the only Ridgeclan defector now residing east of the river, but Dawnclaw was certainly one of the more friendly and well known ones - and she was thankful he would humor her. Most importantly the former, Goosefire could be quite cold, much like Lotusfire - contrary to their suffixes.

"You’re among the leadership, or will be anyways. I understand.”

That concept was a frightening one.

Her. A leader?

She supposed he was right. One day she would be a full medicine cat, one day Lotusfire wouldn't be there to ask questions. She would be Mistclan's sole spiritual conduit to their ancestors.

The thought began to make her dizzy.

She wasn't ready to be a leader.

"I'm just a shut-in apprentice," she corrected him sheepishly. She wasn't asking him as a leader, but as a younger cat asking an older.

"Mistclan thinks Starclan is all around us. But the elders say Ridgeclan doesn't think that way, and that's why Wolfstar wanted the moonpool, no? If Ridgeclan doesn't think Starclan is in the earth around us, how does Ridgeclan view Starclan?...There was an oracle, but now there isn't. How does an oracle share tongues with Starclan in a way that a medicine cat can't?"

Spottedpaw burned to understand, and her voice, albeit quiet, clearly reflected such.