Switch || a Warrior Cats Story

rowanleaf

Owlstar cracked open very weary eyelids to the rough sounds of coughing and pained groans.

"Rowanleaf..."

"Water-"

"My chest hurts."

So that's whose body he was cursed to be in for the day. His fairly pathetic, useless medicine cat. All Rowanleaf's limbs felt unbearably, grossly heavy. His head was stuffed with cobwebs. He just wanted to turn over and sleep for a moon, but duty made him rise to shaky paws.
my patients matter more than i do. their suffering has to be eased. i am a medicine cat. my patients matter more than i do. their suffering has to be eased. i am a medicine cat. my patients matter more than i do. their suffering-

Over and over, Rowanleaf repeated the words in his head like a sick mantra. He came to a halt in front of Greymouse, who was hunched in a ball of matted fluff on a pad of makeshift bedding, shuddering. The orange crust on her eyes was so thick she could hardly keep her eyes open. Every now and then she sniffed to clear her nose.

Annoyance flickered in Rowanleaf's belly. no matter what i do, she never seems to get better.

"J-juniper. Ju-juniper for y-your stuff-uffed b-b-breathing, as well a-as s-some coltsf-f-foot.
F-feverfew a-and l-lav-lavender w-ould help th-that fever-er and ch-chill... M-m-mixed with honey-ey, t-to s-s-s-soothe your th-throat and che-chest. Yes." Owlstar could physically feel the effort it took to force out those sentences. Rowanleaf's mouth wouldn't seem to form the words properly, and the harder he tried to not stutter the worse the stutter came out. Embarrassment tickled his ears.

Promptly, so as not to make the situation awkward, Rowanleaf turned and went to his store to bring out the morning's medicine round.

The store, his store was the only place he was completely alone and at peace. Owlstar just knew. All the neatly arranged piles of herbs and leaves settled in their cracks in the walls brought him a sense of order. With paws that knew where they were going, albeit very slowly, to Owlstar's impatience, Rowanleaf went to each crack and brought out what he needed.

It embarrassed Owlstar to admit it, but he couldn't help admiring the medicine cat's dexterity and comfort with the titchy, finicky herbs, leaves and seeds. He gathered it in a little parcel of beech leaves.

Alarm zapped Rowanleaf's mind. Quickly he scrambled to one of the cracks in the wall and withdrew a herb even Owlstar recognised. Thyme. Rowanleaf sighed with relief as the sharp flavour spread over his tastebuds.
wouldn't want to forget that.

The plant's calming effect settled like new snow on his frazzled brain. The clouds cluttering his thoughts drifted away with ease. He needed that dose, at least once a day, if anything was going to get done around here. With so many sick cats needing his help, he really had to have a clear head.

With a speedy shake of his head, he got right back to work. Owlstar noticed the instantaneous effect. Rowanleaf plucked his bundle up and got on with the job at paw. He returned to the very sick Greymouse. The bundle was placed carefully on the ground.

"G-Greymouse." He roused her with just the one gentle whisper. Her crusted eyes cracked open.
normally i would leave her sleep, but she needs to take her medicine.

"C-come on. T-take y-your m-m-medicine-ine." He nudged the plants towards her with a gentle paw. Greymouse, who must have been well used to this routine by now, stretched her neck forward feebly to lap at the stuff Rowanleaf had brought for her. "Th-they-ey're mixed-d w-wi-with h-h-honey," he finished, turning away to tend to the other patients.

The next patient looked more like a bird's nest than a cat at first glance, Owlstar thought. Startling orange fur stuck out in all directions with so many matted bits, tangles and tiny fragments of plant matter dotted through it he thought it was dead for a moment. Rowanleaf, however, knew better.