Archive of Our Own ^beta

Birchpaw wiggled into camp, hissing under his breath as the leaves tugged at his freshly torn ear. The rest of the patrol were just behind him, quietly talking about the battle they’d just had with another patrol, one from Riverclan.

“Are you OK?” his sister, Frecklepaw, mewed, nudging his side with her muzzle once the two of them were out of the entrance tunnel.

“Yeah, I’ll be alright. I’ll do what Beetail suggested and go to the medicine den though, just in case my ear’s more messed up then we think it is.” he replied, shaking his head, scattering a few droplets of blood across the camp’s dirt floor.

He hastened away after that, trotting across camp towards the fern and grass lined den.

“Good. You should get that ear checked out. Those Riverclan cats could have all sorts of stuff caught in their claws.” Beetail said, nodding at him as the apprentice passed by.

Birchpaw nodded and bounded off to the medicine den, head and tail held high. He hadn’t expected to come back from the patrol with a fresh wound, he hadn’t even expected to end up fighting while out on patrol, but the idea of a cool, torn ear, a sign of his bravery to wear forever, excited him. Plus they’d beaten the Riverclan patrol miserably, so now his torn ear would be a bragging right forever.

“Hey, Oatspeckle? I need your help with a little something.” he called, poking his head into the den.

Oatspeckle was stretched out in one of the many beams of sunlight filtering into the den, grooming her creamy, speckled pelt. When Birchpaw spoke, she raised her head and smiled in greeting.

“Yes, that ear looks like it needs taking care of. Come sit over here. I’ll get Ravenpaw to grab the things we’ll need. Ravenpaw, did you hear that?” she explained, turning to mew over her shoulder.

“Yes, Oatspeckle, I’ll be there in a second.” the voice of the Thunderclan medicine cat's apprentice called from further in the den, where the herbs and supplies were stored.

Birchpaw padded over to the spot Oatspeckle had been sitting in, stretching out so that the sunlight could speckle across his pelt. Another thin trickle of blood ran down his forehead and he snorted in mild frustration. It was kind of a pain in the tail to have blood dripping all over his face. It’d be worth it for the cool scar though. He’d look like such a strong Thunderclan warrior.

Oatspeckle’s apprentice came trotting out, carrying a stick covered in cobwebs and a few leaves. Birchpaw felt his heart leap a little as he walked over to him. He’d been crushing on Ravenpaw ever since they’d both been made apprentices. They’d been paired together, alongside Frecklepaw, to go and look for herbs. They’d both spent a lot of time together and ever since, Birchpaw had thought he was the handsomest tom he’d ever seen.
He knew the clan expected him to take a she-cat as his mate, in order to give the clan strong new warriors, young cats that would have his talent in warrior training. He did want kits of his own one day, but not with a she-cat. He’d never found himself interested in them that way. Part of him wished the clan would see more of him, beyond just providing for the clan and using his talents in a productive way. He wanted to be him, not his father’s son, or Thunderclan’s most promising apprentice.

“Can you treat his wound while I prepare these cobwebs? We haven’t needed to use them in so long that they’ve gotten all stuck over the stick.” Oatspeckle told her apprentice, taking the stick from him and sitting down with it nearby.

“Sure thing, Oatspeckle.” the black tom replied, pushing the herbs towards Birchpaw and quickly setting to work chewing them up.

Ravenpaw worked fast, diligently mashing up the leaves before sitting back up straight, wiping any remaining juice off his face.

“This is going to sting. Sorry.” he told the other apprentice, a hint of guilt entering his blue eyes.

“Don’t worry, I can take a little bit of pain. I mean, I just took on a patrol of Riverclan warriors, I think I can take this!” he reassured the other apprentice with a laugh, feeling some of his usual confidence return.

He hoped he sounded at least a little impressive to him. Would a medicine cat find a victory in battle impressive? Or would he just find it boring, or stupid even?

“Alright, if you say so.”

Without much of a warning, Ravenpaw scooped up a pawful of the chewed-up leaves and smeared them onto his torn ear. A sharp sting burst from the spot, causing Birchpaw to flinch away and hiss.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry! I’ll try to hold still, I promise!” he yelped, the tip of his tail lashing frantically.

He dug his claws into the den floor and gritted his teeth, waiting it out until Ravenpaw was done and the pain was gone. He kept his eyes closed as Oatspeckle wrapped cobwebs around his ears, patting it down and adding more herbs.

“You should be alright now. Just leave that on for two or three days, just to give it enough time to heal right.” Oatspeckle instructed, picking the stick back up, taking it back to the medicine store.

“Take care of yourself. I-Thunderclan doesn’t want you dying on us. You’d-You’d be very missed. Your skills, that is.” Ravenpaw mumbled, leaning over and rasping his tongue over his ears, before whipping around and hurrying off after Oatspeckle.

Birchpaw just sat there for a moment, only able to blink. He felt like he’d just been pulled up into Starclan, sitting alongside the oldest spirits themselves.
Ravenpaw wanted him looked after. Ravenpaw valued his skills. Ravenpaw had shown him a kind of affection usually reserved only for very close friends and family.

He stumbled to his paws, a smile creeping across his face. He padded out of the den and flopped onto his haunches just outside, his gaze fixed on the soft blue sky above.

He was in love. He knew that for sure. He loved the medicine cat apprentice so much it made his head spin. It was easy to forget that it was forbidden for him to be interested in a medicine cat at all. All he could think about was how nice it had felt to have Ravenpaw that close, their fur brushing each other’s, his soft breath tickling Birchpaw’s face. For a moment, it had felt like they were the only two cats in the world.

He wanted to feel that way for the rest of his life, even if Ravenpaw never felt the same. As long as he could still see him and still love him, he'd be happy. He didn't need to know.