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Streampaw knew the training of a Herbalist and medic was very far off from the training of a warrior. He knew it since before he stepped up to Cicadasplash and asked to train under them last moon at the end of Leafbare. He remembered how nervous he was, yet giddy as the senior tom seemed to beam at him with pride he knew he didn’t deserve, and quickly took them under their wing.
And yet, he wondered if he made the right choice. He was glad he could help Cicadasplash, as they were the lone healer in Dawn Colony for so long, and he did genuinely like learning about all the different plants that grew in the territory. But was just ‘liking’ enough? From his place at the top entrance of the Herb Den, he could see the clan bustle about, finding his littermates among them. Robinpaw was pacing impatiently around their mentor Smalldrift, who was busy eating a squirrel and rolling their eyes as the young dark ginger tom kept pushing to start their training right that moment. Near the warriors den, Primpaw was chuckling along with Brightblaze and Rainpounce, the trio all pretending they couldn’t find Sandkit, who giggled loudly as they hid under fern leaves. Streampaw smiled at all the antics of his brothers, then sighed, he missed training with them. They were always together, ever since they were three kits lost in an empty field before Larkfur found them. And now their schedules didn’t line up as well as they used to. Really, why couldn’t he ever make his mind up on things?
“Oh- mouse whiskers!” groaned a voice, breaking Streampaw’s thoughts. He turned around swiftly, ducking down into the hollow- green eyes immediately fixing on a cluster of fallen dock leaves and his mentor, Cicadasplash, who looked flustered with himself.
“Are you alright?” Streampaw asked, using a paw to shuffle the leaves together so he could pick them up neatly.
“Of course I am,” the dark gray and white ticked tom huffed, “I just wish I wasn’t so clumsy these days. I’m not that old, you know.” He shook his head and gave Streampaw a soft look as they placed the herbs back to their proper place, “Thank you, Stream.”
The smaller white tom felt his fur prickle up bashfully at the pure sincerity of the other, over such a small thing, too. He felt he should tell Cicadasplash about his indecisiveness and insecurity, about wondering if he could ever make a good Herbalist, and opened his mouth to say something, anything-
“Good afternoon, Cicadasplash, Streampaw…”
Mouth half open, then quickly closed, Streampaw looked over as his mother Clovershade entered the den with a limp, one forepaw raised.
“What happened to you paw, Mom?” he asked, leaning in to inspect it, his mentor following suit in a mirrored fashion.
The snow-colored molly smiled, a bit strained from the pain of the sting, yet still amused by the pair, “It’s nothing too serious, just a bee sting on a stroll. I really should have been paying attention to where I stepped.”
“Nonsense, those bees are sly things, they enjoy stinging, I tell you!” Cicadasplash guffawed, giving a nudge to Streampaw and instructing, “Fetch me those blackberry leaves we gathered yesterday, would you?”
Streampaw nodded, going to the farther end of the herb store and plucking the small round leaves. He watched the tom stare at the leaves, then back at him, before saying, “Come, you’ll be taking care of the patient this time, I’ll show you what to do.”
Confusion turned into surprise, Streampaw hadn’t done actual mending yet. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” Cicadasplash chuckled, “Here, chew these leaves until their smooth pulp, then apply it her paw.”
Streampaw blinked before beginning to chew the leaves, trying to be as efficient as possible. He didn’t like seeing anyone in pain- no matter how small, much more his beloved adoptive mother. They had a sharp taste, and the scent made him almost sneeze, yet he managed to do the job.
“My, my, look at this, my little Stream a proper Herbalist!” Clovershade cooed as her son applied the poultice to her left forepaw.
“Mo-ther”, Streampaw huffed, embarrassed, scrunching their nose as the taste of blackberry leaves lingered in his mouth. “I’m not a proper Herbalist yet.”
The long-furred she-cat purred, “I’m still very proud.” She flicked her hazel gaze at Cicadasplash, “How did he do?”
“Oh quite alright, just perfect, splendid really,” they nodded, giving the apprentice a cheery smile.
Streampaw smiled back, before quickly asking, “How does your paw feel now, mom?”
“The pains numbed quite a bit, but not all the way. It feels much better than before, and I take I’ll have to be off this paw for the rest of the day, yes?” She was still looking at him, not his mentor and Streampaw faltered for a moment.
“Yes- Yes I think you should. It will soothe your paw.” A desperate look at Cicadasplash, who laughed at his too-serious look.
“He’s right of course, a sign of my superior teachings, yes.”
Both mother and son snorted, the younger rosessted tom rolling his eyes.
Streampaw let a quiet purr out as Clovershade touched the top of his head with her chin, “Thank you, my dear Stream, I feel so much better. I know you’ll be a fine Herbalist.”
Streampaw felt a warm feeling tug at his chest. “How do you know?” He whispered.
“Because you’re kind, and you know how to listen, and I know you have a part of you that wants to prove yourself to everyone.” His mother said gently, then winked at the partially stunned apprentice, whose words escaped him.
With a final hum, Clovershade left, pushing her way up and through the ferns that doored the den. Streampaw watched her go, startling as he felt a tail go over his. He looked up at Cicadasplash, who continued to stare at the entrance before glancing down at them. “I know that you’re not sure about staying as a Herbalist apprentice.”
Streampaw averted their eyes to their paws.
“And that’s okay. You have a kind heart, I know you wanted to become my apprentice because you knew I was struggling to keep up with last Leafbare. If you want to go back to Warrior training now, I won’t be angry. But if you want to stick around more, and learn even more about herbs and healing, I’ll always be happy with that.”
Streampaw sniffled, a wet feeling in their throat as they leaned against their mentor. He thought about it. About going back and training with his littermates. He also thought about the warm feeling after helping his mother, the proud look in Cicadaspash’s eyes, learning the use of plants he’d never thought of before.
“I-I think, I think I’d like to stay. As your apprentice, I mean. I.. I like being it." He shuffled his paws. "Please continue to teach me.”
The old tom purred, “Of course, Streampaw.”
A rustle of fern and foliage, “May I come in?” called a young, nervous voice from above.
“It’s Falcontail!” Streampaw mewed, identifying the slightly raspy voice.
“It quite is Falcontail, yes,” the Herbalist took a step forward, “Yes, come down Falcontail! What ails you today young bird?”
Streampaw heard the voice before seeing the ginger speckled tom stumble down, “I think I’ve eaten the wrong piece of prey.”
Cicadasplash tutted, gesturing to an open nest for the tom-cat to lay in. A quick look at his apprentice sent Streampaw rummaging for chervil.
He knew what to do.
Events Referenced
Streampaw is feeling down
Robinpaw is pestering Smalldrift
Primpaw is having a good day
Rainpounce and Brightblaze are having a conversation
Sandkit is hiding under a bush from Brighblaze, but they can't stop giggling.
Cicadasplash made a mess of the herbs and is panicking
