Hailwatcher stirs underneath the herb shelf, relishing a few heartbeats of nebulous thought.
Immediately afterward the memories of the previous day crash down on him, dread seeping into his pelt like cold water.

The taste of blood remains on the back of his tongue, choking him.

Though he tries to ignore the reality of the previous day, he finds the grim and bitter truth staring him back in the face.

Hailwatcher feels the warmth of another body near him, and his pelt prickles with dread.

He lifts his head, blue-green eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light, and silently prays that whoever stands before him isn't Slightclaw waiting to kill him.

Hailwatcher finds himself somewhere between annoyance and concern for his safety as he recognizes the mottled brown figure standing before him.

"Well, look who's finally awake," Kestrelwing trills, gleefully impaling a stray leaf with his claws.

Hailwatcher glances skeptically at the older warrior, shrinking further underneath the herb shelf.

"Do you need something?"

"Actually, I'm here on an assignment," Kestrelwing replies with a smug grin, looking rather pleased with himself.

"Slightclaw put me in charge of makin' sure you don't squeal."

"...Oh," Hailwatcher replies, realizing that with the addition of surveillance this may be a more serious affair than he'd planned for.

Kestrelwing creeps a little closer, crouching down a paw's length from Hailwatcher's face.

"You should really watch yourself," he mews, dropping his voice down to barely a whisper.

"Otherwise.."

The mottled warrior draws a claw over his neck, head lolling to the side as he lets out a choking noise.

Unsure of how to respond to this aside from nodding in acknowledgment, Hailwatcher coughs weakly before pulling himself out from underneath the herb shelf and sorting through his pre-bundled herb wraps- borage for Rosebush, and a mixture of chamomile, sorrel, and poppy for Quietwater, the Clan's elder.

"What do you do with these stupid things anyway?" Kestrelwing interjects harshly, moving over to Halwatcher's seedlings.

The mottled warrior reaches out with a claw, scoring the stem of the tallest plant.

"Don't touch those!" snaps Hailwatcher, stopping himself after realizing he sounds incredibly desperate.

A shaken up Hailwatcher takes in a breath to steady himself before scooping up both leaf wraps and shuffling toward the mouth of the medicine den.

-=-

Hailwatcher pads along the camp wall with Kestrelwing close behind, stiffly placing each paw on the ground.

Even though it makes him feel bad to consider the possibility, he finds himself hoping that his unplanned companion has patrols to attend to.

Hailwatcher pauses in front of the elders' den, feeling annoyance brew within him.

"What do you even do all day?" Kestelwing complains.
"I keep the Clan alive," mutters Hailwatcher through his teeth, realizing too late that he may want to level his tone.
Kestrelwing, seemingly aware of this, smiles sardonically.

"Just go already and do your dumb medicine cat stuff."

Without responding Hailwatcher wriggles into the small cavern making up the elder's den.

Why the Clan's sole elder, who in Hailwatcher's opinion deserves at least a nice place to sleep, is relegated to such a dim place is beyond him.

Kestrelwing doesn't enter behind the young medicine cat, instead lingering ominously at the entrance.

At the very back of the den is a pale gray she-cat, hunched over uncomfortably.

"..Hi, Quietwater," Hailwatcher murmurs hesitantly, venturing a little closer.

Quietwater turns around to face the gray tom, glaring at him challengingly through watery blue eyes.

"Who is that?" she asks, in a way that makes Hailwatcher feel she's asking only to make him feel insignificant.

"It's....Hailwatcher. The medicine cat."

Awkwardly clearing his throat, Hailwatcher peeks into the leaf wraps and nudges forward one of the herb wraps.

"I got you some herbs for your joints..."

Quietwater stares at Hailwater for several moments before accepting the bundle of herbs, slowly lapping the mixture up while keeping her gaze fixed on him.

Hailwatcher shuffles around awkwardly, thinking of some way to make conversation.
"Hmph," she grunts, leaning on the foreleg she's propped herself up with.

"Hopefully that'll help," the young medicine cat murmurs, forcing a weak smile.

Looking unimpressed, Quietwater strains to scratch her ear with a hind leg.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Do you want to hear a story or something?"

"I mean, if you want to tell one, that's fine-"

"I don't."

Tired of putting up a cheery facade, Hailwatcher sighs.

"I did have a question."

"What is it?" Quietwater snaps, looking more ornery than before now.

"We are kin, aren't we?"

The pale gray she-cat goes silent, silver-tinged muzzle scrunching up in a snarl.

"..Yes."

Finding comfort in some kind of certainty, Hailwatcher pricks an ear.

"So you must be related to my mother, then...right?"

Quietwater growls quietly to herself, ears flattening.

"I was her father's sister. Helped raise her after her mother died."

Hailwatcher forces himself not to get too excited, as he senses that the pale gray elder is liable to clam up any moment now.

"She was lovely and ShadowClan's sweetheart," continues Quietwater, rolling her eyes, "-but then she went and fell in love with some rogue and died, and now we all have to deal with the-"

The elder abruptly cuts off her diatribe, fur bristling as she rests her head on her paw.

Hurt by the unspoken implication, Hailwatcher struggles to form words.

"Does that mean-"

"Gonna stop you right there," Quietwater mutters.

"I'm done talking today, especially to you. Get out."

Hailwatcher simply ducks his head and grabs Rosebush's leaf wrap, forcing himself to be satisfied with the small amount of information.

"Alright...bye.."

Quietwater grumbles incoherently, turning away without giving a response.

Squeezing out of the elder's den, Hailwatcher is pleased to find that Kestrelwing is nowhere in the vicinity- though he pricks an ear just in case his absence is in fact a trick.

The camp is mostly empty, typical for the time of day, and though the breeze of the pine marsh blows through, bringing with it the scent of decaying leaf litter, the greenleaf heat starts to sink in.

Feeling a prickle on the back of his neck, Hailwatcher twitches an ear and turns around only to find that nothing is there.

Giving himself a shake, he sets off toward the nursery.

-=-

Approaching the nursery, Hailwatcher drops into a crouch and shuffles up to the entrance.

"Rosebush? Are you in there?"

The young medicine cat shifts his paws in the dirt.

"I am," the black and ginger she-cat calls softly; Hailwatcher hears some rustling.

"Come on in."

The small gray tom obliges, squeezing through the bramble and ivy tunnel into the nursery.

A stale milky scent- nostalgic to Hailwatcher regardless- hits his nose, along with the smell of the flowers decorating Rosebush's nest.

Rosebush smiles softly at Hailwatcher, folding her paws in front of her.

Sitting next to the young queen is Amberfur; although she offers Hailwatcher a similarly pleasant expression, he can sense some turbulence in her eyes.

"Hey, sweetheart," the golden tabby murmurs gently, her thick, feathery fur rustling as she draws a paw over her ear.

"Hi," Hailwatcher replies quietly, glancing downward.

"I brought you some herbs, Rosebush," he adds, carefully placing the burnet and borage down in front of the young queen.

"Oh, thank you," Rosebush murmurs, pulling the leaf wrap toward her.

Hailwatcher nods absently, sensing that Rosebush is down about something but feeling too guilty to think about what it is.

"How are you doing? Physically speaking."

The young queen sighs, tucking her hind legs beneath her.

"Better than yesterday..."

"Have you been able to eat anything?" Hailwatcher prompts, glancing momentarily at Amberfur, who smiles at him.

"I was able to keep a little bit down," Rosebush replies, "-but not much."

"Alright," the young medicine cat mews, taking a moment to enjoy this feeling of professionalism.

He can tell that Rosebush is lying to him, but given that he's not being honest with her either Hailwatcher feels too guilty to call her out on it.

"Do- do you need anything from me while I'm here...?"

"I don't think so," Rosebush replies softly, staring glumly at the moss strewn about the nursery floor.

Amberfur encouragingly nudges her friend, glancing at her through concerned golden eyes.

"Alright.." The small gray tom trails off as the nursery entrance rustles with movement; a moment later, a cat he dreads seeing again slips through the entrance.

"Good afternoon, everyone," Slightclaw mews, flashing Hailwatcher a subtle warning glare before padding over to his mate and sitting down beside her.

"Hi, sweetheart," Rosebush murmurs, reaching up to lick the silver tabby's ear.

Hailwatcher watches the exchange stiffly, dread creeping down his throat.

"Hey, Slightclaw," Amberfur calls, shuffling away from the two cats and resting her head on her paws.

The ShadowClan deputy murmurs something in Rosebush's ear before settling down in his stomach with a twitch of his ear.

"...Hi, Slightclaw," Hailwatcher mumbles, trying to modify his mildly alarmed expression.

"Hello," the silver tabby mews, glancing down at the small gray tom.

"I...think it's about time for me to go now," the young medicine cat mews, stifling a cough as he glances sidelong at Slightclaw.

"I believe that would be beneficial," replies the ShadowClan deputy curtly, the disdain in his voice only slightly veiled.

"Alright then, let me know if you need anything.."

"We will," Rosebush mews, leaning on her mate's shoulder.

"Bye," Hailwatcher mutters with a nod, quickly slipping through the nursery entrance.

Hailwatcher trudges back to the medicine den, taking in a deep breath as he pushes through the vine curtain.