Following The Wind [Open]

Jester took a deep breath as he walked across the moors, the chilly breeze following his lungs as he took his time to look around and above. He wasn’t used to lack this much on cover, unable to hide from plain view and in constant risk of being spotted and attacked, making him wonder how didn’t he spot any wild cat just yet, how did they manage to blend in this kind of nearly barren territory at all…each one of these wild territories seemed to pose a different challenge.

During normal circumstances, the black tabby would’ve voided crossing the borders of wild cat territories, even less allow himself to wander deep into them as he was doing now. However, the news of the sudden hit the clans had suffered to their numbers after some mysterious event spread like wildfire across the filthy streets of the twolegplace he reluctantly called home. Many rogues had taken upon this chance to try and snatch better quality prey from the clans that lived there, some bolder ones even had tried to claim some territory of their own and settle right under their noses.

He?

He was looking for food, yes, but more important than food itself, he was carefully looking for these clans of fierce territorial cats.

The information about them was scarce, their motives unknown, their society a mystery. Few rogues had been daring enough to try and find out more, and very few returned…and those that did only brought back some new scars. If he wanted to know what made these clans so special, their secrets, he was going to need to be careful.

His ears twitched as he scanned the windy terrain. Each territory birthed new rumors, some more widespread than others. This specific section of the territories spoke of fast cats that could strike before you even see them coming, with surprising strength for their smaller than average size, before disappearing from sight and repeating the process. Known for overwhelming their opponents in battle, beating them without letting them land a single blow, he knew he had to have his guard very high.

The morning was cold, but not as bad as previous days had brought. Slight birdsong filled the air, and a single cream she-cat was wondering alone, yellow tansy flowers filling her mouth. Most of the Clans knew her; she was Softpaw, WindClan's medicine cat apprentice. Her mentor, Swiftstream, had told her to gather herbs. So she was. What she didn't expect, however, was to find a rogue on her territory. She squeaked, dropping her parcel of flowers on the ground, backing up slightly.

Jester wasn’t expecting to find a young-looking cat gathering random plants on her own, that’s for sure. He blinked a couple times as he watched the startled wild she-cat, before being pulled out of his thought by something softly grazing his paw.

He lowered his gaze, noticing the couple herbs that the chilly breeze had gently pushed towards him. For him, these herbs held the same value as the grass surrounding them, unaware of their uses. With a quick flick of his ear, he pushed the herbs towards the younger she-cat, looking at her with a mix of interest and wariness. He had learned to be somewhat cautious around clan cats, and this wasn’t the exception “I know prey is scarce on this time of the year, but I don’t think grass and flowers will keep anyone’s belly full for long…you might want to spend some extra time trying to find something that will fill you up” His voice was neutral and calm, wondering if the she-cat would explain her fixation on herbs to him.

Was prey really that scarce in this part of the territories? Even he would think it twice before deciding he was desperate enough to resort to rabbit food to survive, after all.

The cream she-cat crouched low to the ground, judging how quickly she could gather her herbs and run. Would the rogue follow her? She couldn't possibly abandon the tansy; it was far too precious for that. Her sky blue eyes darted from the herbs to the rogue, to the edges of her vision, trying to narrow down an escape route on her own. She couldn't possibly fight him off on her own; if only Fernstep or Cloudpaw were here! She couldn't lead the tom to her camp, but with so little foliage she couldn't lose him as one could in ThunderClan territory. Her ears cocked in the direction she was going to sprint in.

Too late, she realized, her eyes and ears gave her entire plan away. She groaned inwardly, and only a subtle tail twitch gave away her frustration. How was she meant to escape? When the tom questioned about her plants, she hesitantly tiptoed forwards, swiftly gathering each tansy leaf towards her before shimming away from the rogue. "W-w-windCl-clan t-territory h-h-has plenty of r-rabbits for us!" Her attempt to sound hostile faltered, her soft voice refusing to give the desired effect. Her habit of stuttering did nothing to assist with that.

At first, she didn't want to share information about the herbs. But then she remembered the way she shared information with fellow medicine cats, and oh- habits are rather hard to break. "We... We u-use them to heal- I'm a medicine cat, or a h-healer. Whatever y-you prefer." Talking of herbs was always less stressful than talking regularly.

Fear…

Well, that was a first since coming to the wild territories, that was for sure.

His trained eyes were quick to pick up the body language this cat was involuntarily giving, but he kept said knowledge to himself instead of reacting to it. His intentions were not aggressive, at least not in the way this she-cat was most likely assuming, so he had absolutely no reason to chase her if she decided to run…if anything, chasing her could ruin his chances of finding out more about the clans in the long run, and with said chances already as low as they were thanks to the territorial behavior of most of these cats and the actions of the others outsiders like him, that was a risk he wasn’t about to take.

He looked silently as the younger she-cat gathered her leaves before pulling away as quickly as possible, one of his ears twitching as she did “If there is enough actual food, why bother with plants?” He tilted his head as he calmly sat on the frosty terrain, trying to give off as little threatening signs as possible.

“A…healer?” Well, he had heard that wild cats had odd traditions, this probably was one of them “I rarely hear of any healer cats. Where I come from, wounds and illness rarely get treated, and they are the ultimate test of your ability to survive. Many don’t achieve it”.

"You d-don't have any cats treating a-any wounds?" Softpaw echoed in shock. How could any cat watch another get injured and do nothing about it? "If injuries and sickness k-kill so many, how come you do n-nothing to s-stop it?" She pondered. It marvelled her how some cats felt no sympathy at the pain of others. Even the smallest of scratches made her heart swell with sympathy and the need to help them.

"Are many injured? Are you injured? What type of injuries are most common?" Her shyness seemed to disappear as she talked about what she specialized in; healing. Softpaw was known for her sympathetic nature, often going as far as to break the warrior code to help those who need it. After all, she wasn't bound to such rules as those. If a rogue or kittypet or loner were hurt, Softpaw would waste no time in helping them, even if it were as simple as telling this one rogue cures to common diseases.