Life's Big Holiday {open}

For a mostly black cat, Crowfrost didn’t mind the heat so much. Despite his pelt’s tendency to absorb heat from every ray of sun, the wind that whipped across the land was sufficient enough to keep him cool. His mind wandered onto the subject of the other clans. ThunderClan had their shade, ShadowClan- if the name was any indication- even more so, and WindClan had it’s wind. That left RiverCan, which he imagined despite its cool waters, was very muggy. Luckily the medicine cat had the great fortune of never having to venture to their lands, with the exception of along the lake for Gatherings, and he sincerely hoped that he never would. He had no desire to pick through mud and reedy plants, let alone swimming.

But even as that last thought crossed his mind, the ground under his paws became slightly more damp and squishy. He was not at the marshland that lay between RiverClan and WindClan, where the mud posed more of a danger, but it still annoyed him. Still, it was necessary. Crowfrost was making his rounds as he called it, checking on the status of his precious herbs. His stock was not particularly lacking, but the tom preferred to be prepared in case anything came up. At each plant he came to, he would check to see if it had grown any, if it seemed to be dying or if it was looking okay. If a plant was particularly leafy he may take a few leaves back to his den for safekeeping, but most of the plants were looking slightly wilted in the heat and direct sunlight, so he had nothing so far.

The medicine cat was looking for a patch of comfrey when he spotted a form perched upon a rock, not unlike a bird, apparently gazing over towards RiverClan territory. Though he was behind her and couldn’t see her face, he could guess that it was Silvermint. Her name had a ring of appeal for him, though he attributed this to the herb in her name. Mint was one of his favorite scents… The tang of comfrey root, not so much.

“Lose your patrol?” He asked, seating himself at the base of the rock. It was the only not-damp spot of land he could find, save for the rock itself. “If you’re looking for them, they’ve already returned to camp.” His long black tail flicked in the direction, towards the center of their territory. His tone was even and his face calm if a bit stony, but any cat who knew Crowfrost knew that he was rarely serious, even when he professed to be so. Crowfrost's whiskers twitched idly as he waited for an answer, vaguely wondering how she would respond.

The medicine cat purred with dark amusement as the silver-furred warrior jumped up and started falling off the side. Naturally, he knew that even if she fell, she wouldn’t be seriously injured; though perhaps a little browner from the mud clinging to her pelt. The deep rumbling in his chest ceased when Silvermint managed to pull herself back up onto the rock, assuming her previous position. Crowfrost, on the other hand, hadn’t moved a muscle to help her. Only his tail showed any motion, still twisting and curling behind him as if it had a mind of its own.

“Only me? I’m rather hurt by that,” he said, licking the white patch on his chest roughly for added effect, as if his pride was hurt. In reality, it took much more to even come close to bruising it. Crowfrost rolled his shoulders, loosening and relaxing the muscles in his back. The sun’s rays were really doing wonders for him, as he had been meandering the territory for the better part of the afternoon. He stood, taking the time to stretch his back legs, first the left, then the right. It felt heavenly.

Finished, he returned to answering the she-cat. “Medicine cat duties, naturally. Herbs don’t simply appear in my den, though StarClan knows that would make my life so much easier. Comfrey’s the next herb I’m seeking out, though it’s not terribly pressing at the moment.” To be honest, Crowfrost did enjoy conversation. He was easily bored, and conversation (or witty remarks, or not-so-friendly banter, as it often ended up becoming) was what filled him with life and vitality. Had he been born a loner, he wouldn’t have known what to do with himself.

With a slight pause, he continued. “Just out? Interesting,” the last word ended with a slight purr. “If you hadn’t said so, I would have thought you were spying on RiverClan.” It was now that he padded onto the rock, claws sheathed but gripping it with his toes so as to not slip. The medicine cat settled next to her, green eyes gazing out towards the other clan’s land. After all, danger was most likely to arrive from RiverClan- in past disputes, ThunderClan’s ideas usually agreed with WindClan’s, to some extend. And there was little danger to be had from ShadowClan directly, unless they suddenly grew gills and swam all the way across the lake. If that happened, not even StarClan would be able to help them. Crowfrost laughed to himself quietly at the thought. A soft breeze blew across the moors from the lake, flattening his short black fur.