Posts by Cloudhouse

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"What are you doing back here? Looking to rejoin?" Cloudhoused asked, raising his nonexistant eyebrows. He didn't prefer either Wingstar or Jax to be in leadership, they were both equally incompetent. The least Jax had done was make WindClan fiercer, although that wasn't stopping BloodClan from returning to their old habits now. Wingstar was much more cautious, she didn't have an inch of ambition flowing through her veins. It made WindClan look weaker, and that, he did not like.

So at the current moment because of his views, he would think that should he take sides, he would support Jax returning to leadership. They needed to deal with this problem before it grew out of hand. BloodClan was an anti-clan, yes. That was no reason to be asses.

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"You can handle this one, Bloom. It's just torn claws, normal broken hind leg, and basic claw wounds. I think you're up to the job, here is your supply of herbs," Cloudhouse added, dropping off his satchel by her side without further talking. His voice was brisk and low, evident that he was not going to be here much longer.
"Treat for other symptoms such as shock and pain. Good luck."
With that, he left. He didn't want to deal with a living, talking product of his own incompetence. Hopefully, Harborpaw hadn't been conscious when he walked in on her own capture and left. He didn't want to see her in that state, so he had gone.

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"Damn, she just took off from WindClan without saying anything. Good to know that she's still kicking it," Cloudhouse mused. Even if he didn't care, somewhere in the back of his mind, he had wondered what became of her. He had presumed her to be deceased, but he guessed that wasn't the case after hearing that she was in SunClan now. How kind of her to let them know instead of hanging in the dark for weeks about her presence.

"Well not much changed since you were gone. New faces, new territory, same old weaklings." Cloudhouse wasn't going to dump all his complaints on Jax, he was just another passing face now. Wingstar was the head honcho now. The best thing about having no strong emotional connections was that he had no one to feel loyal to, nothing to be guilty about.

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"No, it's not just a rogue member. The entirety of BloodClan views us as nothing more than a Clan to mess with now. Pollux, their deputy, oversaw the torture of Harborpaw and let it continue," Cloudhouse reported, having found out who he had been having the conversation with. Apparently, he was a big boy there in BloodClan, because it didn't take long to find out his unimportant label.

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bump for Sam and Dan

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"Sounds like she has slight amnesia as well. Maybe she took a hit to her head, check for concussions or head injuries. We wouldn't want to stick here talking around while her brain may possibly be bleeding out," Cloudhouse mused over the possibility, deciding to leave it up to Sam. She seemed to have the situation taken under control. "I would also consider the possibility of treating for shock, up to you." It never hurt to treat for possible shock, it was basically calming someone down.

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"What's the purpose in their death by bringing them here? So we can learn a couple names and increase the chances of the possibility of our own getting sick? Animals aren't perfect. Someone will slip up and just as ThunderClan had gone down, WindClan will go down once the plague gets passed around and infects us all. We don't even know how to treat it yet. Your little helpful act, endangers us more than benefits us," Cloudhouse stated in a matter-of-fact tone. He didn't mind being viewed as the villain here, but Sam's willingness to sacrifice the entire safety of her Clan just to make a few lucky animals feel like they were something special crossed a line.

He didn't raise his voice, and Cloudhouse was growing tired of hearing the same old song. "This isn't genocide. It is a possible epidemic if it is not contained, and I would like to be the one who prevents that from happening in WindClan." At the mention of Sharkattack, he rolled his eyes. Sam had never let go of that, and it was tiring to hear the mention of it again. "I'm sorry, did you expect me to break down into tears because my co-worker could possibly be dead? Life has to move on, the entire world can't stop because one animal died. What you saw as discarding, I was moving on and not letting that affect my actions or thoughts." Geez, Cloudhouse may be a seen as some heartless character, but he wasn't a fan of killing, nor genocide unless there were boundaries crossed.

Turning to Harborpaw with an exasperated sigh, he explained, "Sharkattack disappeared, and Sam seems to think that I discarded him like a piece of rotten meat. I was simply trying to move on, if that is not so hard to understand."

"That's enough arguing," he added abruptly, before anyone could say another word. "My intention today was not to fight against this . . . action, nor was it to fight against you," Cloudhouse added with a narrowed gaze towards Sam. "The interns are now assigned to their mentors, and I had the additional announcement that we are implementing in assessments. There will be five major units: basic anatomy, physical wounds, poisons, internal wounds, sickness."

"Basic anatomy is just covering where the heart, lungs, major arteries are because all medical interns should have general knowledge of it. Physical wounds includes how to treat them which include broken bones, bruises, crush wounds, etc. Internal wounds, same thing with physical wounds but internal. Poisons and sickness should be self-explanatory. I'll give a quick assessment on each unit, but I'll warn you at least one week ahead of time so learn everything you can as quickly as possible.

You are all expected to be there if someone is sick, or even if someone has a thorn stuck in their paw. Shadow Sam and I around, see how we deal with them and then you can start treating injuries yourself when you know how. Any questions?"

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A flash of guilt had been felt so quickly, there was no time to protest against it before it was gone again. Damn Sam, he didn't need to justify his own methods for moving on. Yet, she made it so personal that it was annoying to accept her point of view. Respecting her to some degree, her point of view clouded with his, resulting in his mixed emotions.

"Yes," he answered through gritted teeth, not wanting to deal with this sad news at the moment. "'Tis me, Cloudhouse. Sharkattack is no longer with us, I'm afraid," the border collie responded in his low, gruff voice. "He's not dead, he just disappeared one day. There were no traces to follow, no body to analyze." It was unfortunate to be related to someone who just disappeared off the face of the earth one day, but it was something to always expect. John, Hyacinth, and Beartooth had all gone the same way, although even they had left traces.

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"If you know the territory like the pad of your paws, is that to mean that you know it very well? If so, how in the world do you still get lost," Cloudhouse scoffed as he strode up to his apprentice with a skeptical expression as he sat down. He turned his attention to the other animals gathered, looking around and deciding that he didn't know any of them except Chara and Frisk. The two were strange. They looked alike, but had polar opposite personalities. It was amusing to see them communicate sometimes.

When he was at a meet and greet, he liked to notice who he knew that wasn't there instead of the people who were there. Cloudhouse didn't want to learn any new names today, not until he was certain that it was going to be somewhat useful to know it later on in his future.
"Something interesting, hm. Does discovering a new branch of possible, alternate herbs count? If so, yes, I am the one who introduced my methods to WindClan first. I'll try to implement them back in, although I am not a stranger to the original way either."

His entire explanation did not flow well at all. He felt like it was disconnected, but that was just how he talked when he couldn't gather his thoughts.

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"Again? Maybe someone is targeting the medic team on purpose," Cloudhouse mused, wondering if he would be next on the list. It wouldn't surprise him, the universe had yet to get back at him. He had never considered himself to be lucky. After all, Cloudhouse had developed a rare clot in the leg when he was only a young pup. There was nothing that would've increased his chances, and yet it happened, and disabled him permanantly when the Medics at the time had no other option but to remove everything around it as well. Surgery was not an option at the point.

Without any emotion, he simply walked away from the scene, knowing that even if he did try, there wouldn't be enough clues to find her.

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"There's no trail. Not a scent trail, certainly no blood trails," Cloudhouse growled towards Harborpaw, more out of irritation than being unfriendly. "Fleecepaw can find her own way back, just as you had. The best way to prevent this is to learn how to protect yourself, with or without claws," he added, glancing down at her paws. Cloudhouse wasn't the kind of person who would avoid touchy subjects, but he would never intentionally make fun of them either. He knew that it was difficult to adjust to a new life without having what they considered a weapon, but Harborpaw would have to if she wanted to survive.

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"Someone bring her some water. Wingstar, are you awake?" Cloudhouse asked as he sat next to the leader, attempting to dry some of her sweat off with the dry moss that he had in his satchel. Kitting was a long and difficult process, he wanted to make sure that the mother was alright at the end of the day.

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Looking more irritated than before, Cloudhouse rolled his oversized grey and red tennis ball around between his paws, bouncing them back and forth. It did not take much to assume that he was unhappy, and they were going to find out what extremely soon.

"Medic team, gather. I have some uncertainties about where we lie in our current situation, and I would like to sort them out," he called out, referring to how more than half his team went though extremely traumatic events in a short period of time. Even if he had not been there personally at the events, it did not mean that Cloudhouse was ignorant to what was going on.

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"Pull yourselves together!" Cloudhouse snapped at them, gritting his teeth when he saw his coworker's body. The facts were all clear: Sam was dead, and the Exiles had done it. Whether it was a possible scent manipulation or not, he would not give the Exiles the benefit of the doubt, seeing as how they had committed too many similar atrocious crimes.

Irritation and anger was helping him skate though her death, so was assigning blame. For how could be be devastated if he was more so annoyed?
She could be replaced, right? The shameful thought flashed in his mind and lingered there, but only because he knew what the right answer was. What Sam's answer would be.

Turning around and taking a few steps facing the opposite direction, he sat down. With trembling paws, Cloudhouse reached into his satchel and took out two vicodin pills, enough to overdose. He didn't want to feel the pain that was sure to come, as any natural emotion to death of a close friend would. Recklessly, he quicklly lifted up his paw to swallow them. Unknowingly, one pill had slid out of his paw and he only swallowed one. It was more effective than any painkiller that was ever given to him, and soon, the only aching feeling that was left was in his chest.

Walking back to camp, it was tens of minutes later until Cloudhouse came back with a blanket clutched in his jaw. He pulled it over the lifeless body and stepped back, standing a few minutes of vigil for her. "I'll hold the funeral later," he announced with a flat voice, his ice blue eyes dull.

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Cloudhouse? =)

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"Fleecepaw, I'll teach you how to cover a few physical things today such as a broken rib, bruises, joint aches, etc. Now let's begin with you telling me where you would like to me treat you," Cloudhouse explained, dropping his satchel down on the ground. He was referring to how she had possible aches on her body from the scars, and he would be trying to alleviate those as well as teach her about how to treat them.

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Here are the winners! The badges will be handed out soon =)

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As strange as it sounded, Cloudhouse had slept through the night by Sam's body. He had wanted to keep a silent vigil for her, one of the traditional ceremonies held after one's death as they used to do in the olden days. He wanted to show her a sign of respect after accepting her death, and hold the funeral sometime in the next few days. That would never be prepared now that Sam had risen back to life.

With effort, he peeled open his eyes when he heard a soft whisper, still plagued by sleep. It seemed that he had fallen asleep during his own silent vigil for her. When he saw Sam's mauled, blood-stained body move, he jumped onto his paws, ignoring the ache and sudden intense pain in his leg.
Sam's alive, Sam's alive, the thought swam around in his head, making him dizzy and weak from lack of sleep.

The presence and actions of others told him that he wasn't hallucinating, so Cloudhouse leaped right into action. "Are you still bleeding? Tell me where your wounds are," he instructed, soaking a moss with water in the stream nearby, and then attempting to start wiping off the blood so that he could expose the wounds.

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Cloudhouse was used to disappointment. Disappointment at what could have been, from others by his own actions. When Sam had died, he had gotten too emotionally attached to her. The fangs of death took its toll, draining him mentally and physically. There had only been a few deaths that had ever affected him emotionally, and he preferred to keep it that way. Thus, a professional relationship was all that was ever sought for, especially with those he worked with.

But Sam, Sam had been different. Her morals creeped into his mind, even softening him over time. Her very presence had altered his life, and he had only begun to realize the extent of it with her death. Sam was an empty void that could not be replaced. When she had woken up, seeing her scarred face hiding under the blanket he had retrieved, it was like an electric shock jolting his senses awake. Cloudhouse didn't want to lose her then, not again. So this time, he had decided to try to hold on to that light. The same light that would drive him to do what he was about to at the moment.

"Sam?" he asked, recognizing her familiar scent and appearance as he approached her with caution. Cloudhouse took another pawstep, hesitating to come any closer to her. His breathing rate was slow and controlled, but his heart pounded against his ribs. His breath was visible in the frosty air, forming into a puff of steam. Somehow, his actions from when he first met her had led up to here. It was a peculiar, yet fascinating thought.

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"Yeah, what's up?" Cloudhouse asked absentmindedly as he bounced his oversized grey and red tennis ball against the solid wall. It was a fluid motion now: hit, bounce, hit, bounce. He didn't take his eyes off of the ball as Bloomingskies arrived.

In the back of his mind, he was trying to figure out a way to train the team in being emotional supporters, or therapists. They had went through a lot, and the Clan needed a better mental health overall.