only very problematic }{ trixie

[Miststar]

<< but i'll lead you all to forever. >>

The moors were damp and chilled with mist. It hung low in the dips between the hills, gliding along the creek beds and over the plains. The silvery-white was thick and high-reaching, but it did not obscure the peak of the Tallest Hill. Admiring the scene from the clear edge of WindClan's camp was a molly the same color as all that she saw before her, sitting tall and still. This was the embodiment of the cats she lead. If only it could always be like this.

And with that, Miststar had to turn her thoughts to the matter at hand. It still hardly seemed believable, especially because the evidence had been before her for so long. So many had spoken of her optimism as a positive trait, but once again she felt it had only blinded her. She took a deep breath in through her nose, letting the cool, humid air relax her. She needed it to be able to go have this conversation.

She rose and stretched gracefully, ruffling her tabby feathers as she arched her back. Into the heart of camp she stepped, where several cats sat talking or curled in the grass. Those with fur instead of down rested today, it not being suitable weather for them to hunt and the fresh-kill pile being full anyway. Miststar couldn't help but smile. Even in the earliest inklings of newleaf, they prospered. Even more disappointing, then, that she had to address this now.

The silver molly stepped into the small den with confidence, the scent of herbs hitting her from all sides. Her jade-green gaze landed on the black-pelted cat with a sigh. "Nightpelt, I believe you know what we have to discuss."

word count >> 285
notes >> woo plot it's happening

[Nightpelt]

It was cold and damp, but it had been that way a lot, lately. The mist hung low in the air, which Nightpelt thought made the scene almost poetic. If he had spare time, he would go outside and lay his frail body on the grass, enjoying the atmosphere. Heat was always just a bit too much for him, as his body seemed to produce too much of it, so cold and damp was a welcome change. But he never had spare time. At the moment, he was fixing his previous patient's spare bedding; the bastard has tossed and turned about so much that Nightpelt thought he might spin himself out of existence. If only he could be so lucky. Instead, straw and weaving had been scattered everywhere, and the bedding almost had to be made from scratch. This was apprentice work. How long had it been since he'd made that critical mistake as an apprentice? That he accidentally gave his mentor's drugs to an ailing warrior? That he exposed the Clan to such... poison? Not a day went by that he wished that that incident had never happened. But it did, so Nightpelt stayed where he was, raising a careful claw to weave the bed neatly together once again, his back to the entrance. The medicine cat had just sat back with a proud grin as he finished when Miststar's entrance made him jump. His muscles ached from the sudden movement, so it was with a bit of annoyance that he slowly turned around with a nod. "You don't have to tell me what the problem is, leader," he stated in a cold monotone. "I'm quite aware of what this conversation will entail." There was a small pause as Nightpelt sat up a little higher, a bit of regret as his tail twitched. "I beg to remind you that this isn't my fault," he commented quickly, losing the monotone for a bit as his eyes darting away from his leader's face. "I wasn't the one who brought the poison in, and I was... I was only a kit. It wasn't like my wise mentor could have alerted me that I was giving the wrong herb when she was seeing the butterflies herself." There was a pause as Nightpelt looked back towards his leader, the jaded coldness returned to his eyes, though he made sure to add a measure of respect to his voice as he talked. Whether it would come across as mocking would be up to Miststar. "Now. Let's get down to business, shall we, leader?" Tagged: Miststar / Cobalt Status: Private Muse: Beautiful Notes: Couldn't stand having this not be in template, so I fixed it, yes.

[Miststar]

<< but i'll lead you all to forever. >>

The silver tabby settled into a sitting position as the medicine cat talked. He was always so cold, but for a moment he seemed…regretful. His piercing blue eyes left her as his words sped up slightly, but the leader kept her own gaze fixed thoughtfully on him. "I don't blame you a bit, Nightpelt," she sighed. "I only wonder how I didn't notice sooner. I should have been more alert. I could have stopped this." Miststar flushed under her light fur, a mix of anger and embarrassment. There was a moment of silence, and then she straightened and cleared her throat, prompting him to speak.

"Now. Let's get down to business, shall we, leader?" Miststar could tell that the respectful tone was very purposeful, not entirely sincere, but it didn't bother her. She couldn't expect every cat to love her, and Nightpelt did his job well regardless. If only he hadn't made that unfortunate mistake. "Yes. The issue here, I think, is how to…undo this, without inciting too much of a protest. That would be awful to see, and it would only dig us deeper. We'd likely bump into ShadowClan if we did that." It wasn't a joke. Even if it was, her voice was deathly serious. "I don't want to turn the Clan against me. Even if they would come around eventually, everyone else, the other Clans…they know. They think us silly, disgraceful. We have a reputation to save here." She paused, deep in thought, then looked back up, leaning forward as though asking for Nightpelt's next words. He was the medicine cat, he was the one who had seen everything that she had been oblivious to, and if any cat could do this, it was this cold-eyed tom.

word count >> 290
notes >> Shortish post, for the purpose of keeping the conversation from getting all one-sided.

[Nightpelt]

Nightpelt wasn't exactly sure what to do with Miststar's anger and embarrassment. He'd locked away most of his emotions as a response to repeated abuse. How had such an emotional cat, biased and tempered by her "heart", become leader? Or was every leader this way? The ThunderClan leader seemed like he followed a logical path. "Really?" Nightpelt chuckled darkly. "I'd never thought of undoing it. What a wonderful idea, to simply get all of these emotionally addicted warriors and older apprentices to just gladly hand away the poison they shake me down for every day." He was sarcastic, yes, but he was sick of the whole situation. Of being shaken down, of having to deal with everything himself. He'd been as much of a victim as Miststar in this. When Miststar seemed to prod him for more words, the medicine cat stood up and paced back and forth, his eyes deep in thought. "Yes, yes. I'm aware that our reputation is less than stellar right now. And while you refuse to say it -- or, StarClan forbid, haven't thought of it -- a reputation for being silly and disgraceful will lead to a reputation for being weak, and a reputation for being weak will lead to attempts to take prey or parts of the territory." The black tom twisted around and began organizing some of his herbs, his back to his leader as he spoke. "I'm not sure how to undo everything, nor how to fix our reputation. I know that the ThunderClan leader likely won't let this slip from his mind anytime soon, even if his deputy seems more forgiving. "I'm more a logical cat than an emotional one, leader." Done with the chervil, Nightpelt turned around once more and sat down, his tail tucked over his paws. "And I have no ideas. Do you have any?" Tagged: Miststar / Cobalt Status: Private(?) Muse: Pretty good Notes: Nightpelt no stop acting like that you are a male cat not a female dog