A Healing Touch [Closed]

It was a real shame that Cypresspaw's return to the SkyClan camp couldn't have been as smooth as their escape - huffing as they attempted to limp in without being noticed. They knew that they ought not to leave the camp alone - for reasons that they had just learned...But they didn't regret it, not when it had allowed them to take the time to put things into perspective and come to realize how they wanted to be viewed and who they truly were. They did have a little regrets about attacking that snake thought... They hung their head as they headed toward where Mistedsong's den was, poking their head in with a wince. "...Um...Mistedsong?" they called out, slipping inside. "I - ow - might need to be patched up a little," they sighed, raising their injured leg to give it a few licks.

Dark gray ears perked up in the back of the medicine den, not expecting company. Mistedsong padded out from where he was organizing his herbs, green eyes widening at the state of the apprentice in his cave. "Cypresspaw! What in StarClan happened?" he half-scolded, half-yelped at the state of the apprentice's leg. "Lay down, lay down, don't put any more weight on that," the medicine cat commanded as he disappeared into the back of his den once more.

The misty gray tom returned with a wad of cobwebs and a mouthful of goldenrod, tormentil, marigold and dock leaves. He chewed the leaves into a bitter green paste, smearing the poultice over the apprentice's wound before wrapping it with cobwebs. "You'll want to keep off of that for at least a few days, and tell me immediately if you start feeling feverish. Do you need anything for the pain?" Mistedsong asked, wary of his dwindling reserve of poppy seeds.