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Once was mere chance, and two times was a coincidence - but three times, Mangopaw knew, was deliberate enemy sabotage.
"Alright, you jokers - who was it this time?!" she snarled. It was the third morning in a row she'd woken up covered head-to-toe in the sweetest-smelling flowers she'd ever seen, and after enduring about five minutes of constant sneezing, she'd finally had enough. She blocked the exit to the apprentices' den, effectively trapping all those still inside with her. "Nobody's getting out of here until I get a confession, guys!" There was a beat of silence, which was ruined by the untimely rumble of Mangopaw's stomach. "...Until I get too hungry, anyway."
"Mangopaw? Is something the matter?" Came a sweet voice from behind the apprentice. Fawnheart had been nearby when she heard Mangopaw fussing, clearly about a prank one of the other apprentices did. It was probably the flower prank again.
Mangopaw huffed, before being cut off by another sneezing fit. "What does it - achoo! - look like, Fawnheart?" she glowered, before shaking her head. "Never - achoo! mind. You guys suck," she muttered, before racing out of the apprentices' den and bumping the medicine cat's shoulder slightly. "Sorry - achoo! Fawnheart."
"And what is that - achoo! - going to do to help with the blatant - achoo! - disrespect I get around here?!" Mangopaw fumed, but she followed Fawnheart willingly into the medicine den. "Well? Is there a herb that can make me more - achoo! - likeable?"
Fawnheart chuckled, "no, but I might have something to help with your sneezing." She reached into a crevice in her den and pulled out a pawful of Chamomile and then another pawful of mint. She chewed up the chamomile first and covered the area around her nose with it then chewed up the mint and rubbed it on Mangopaw's chest. "There. The chamomile will help with any itching and the mint will clear up your airways."
Mangopaw's nose twitched as the cold chamomile touched her fur, but it soon began to feel calming - even soothing, which was a feeling that the young apprentice didn't experience much. "Huh..." she murmured, feelin the sudden urge to flop onto the ground and fall asleep. However, her all-encompassing rage soon kicked her body back into gear. "...Suppose I say that - and this is purely hypothetical - I wanted to take...revenge on some of my denmates for the prank towards me...Are there any herbs that cause sneezing and itching, rather than treat them?"
Fawnheart frowned, "revenge is a dangerous path to follow. Even if it is a harmless prank. Your denmates will get what is coming but it may not come from you. If it will make you feel better, I can talk to their mentors and see if I can have them help me out with some boring chores."
"Hmmm..." Mangopaw frowned, slowly zoning out as Fawnheart kept talking to her. "So what you're saying is...I can't get revenge, but you can get revenge for me?" she asked. Perhaps she'd missed the point a little, as Mangopaw usually did.
Mangopaw blinked. "Aaaaaaand, the difference is?" she asked, with a wink. "...Don't answer that. Anyway, I guess it would be nice if you could talk to their mentors about it, so I could see them suffer..."
Fawnheart frowned again, "when the young does wrong, they should be punished and corrected. But you should not get your denmates in trouble seeking revenge or to see them 'suffer'."
"Well, what about justice?" Mangopaw huffed. "If whoever's in the wrong is punished and I, as a result, get a little happiness out of that, then really what's the harm?" Mangopaw would later in life learn that that particular emotion she often experienced was in fact commonly referred to as power tripping, but for now, she thought it was just a fun way to pass the time. "So? Whaddya say, hmmm...?"
"The harm is that the feeling will get stronger. As you get older, you will start feeling the power of revenge and that will lead you down the wrong path" she mewed as she began sorting her herbs. "Sometimes its okay to feel like youve been acknowledged and the relief of not being the victim for once but if you let it take control of you, it can get ugly quickly."
Mangopaw's eyes widened as she listened to Fawnheart. "Wow..." she breathed, barely blinking. "...You're, like, really smart," she said, "so smart that, I, uhh...didn't catch all of what you were saying, but it sounded so smart that I should probably listen to it..." She would understand when she got older, she supposed. "...I'm still really angry, though. What am I supposed to do about that?"
Mangopaw's eyes widened. "S-sure!" As one of SpringClan's more annoying ambitious apprentices, Mangopaw was usually one of the first to volunteer for odd jobs around the camp, and in her eyes, being asked to help out in the medicine den for even just a few minutes was a surefire sign that she was finally on the path to glory. "W-what do I do? Teach me! I'll become the best apprentice at medicine around! ...Except for Whitepaw," she added, checking to see that he hadn't heard her. "B-but definitely second-best!"
She purred, "of course." She pushed a pawful of marigold leaves over to Mangopaw, "Here. You see the difference between the withered ones and the fresh ones? The withered leaves are dried and falling apart. Those need to be thrown out. But leave the fresher ones."
Mangopaw studied the marigold leaves intently, squinting at them as if she was trying to burn a hole in them. "...I see it!" she nodded, taking the leaves and attempting to sort through them at lightening speed. Some of the drier leaves broke apart a little at her touch, but what did that matter? They were just going to be thrown out, anyway - or at least, that's how she saw it. "What if they're, like, not quite dead yet, but more like...dying?" she asked, eyeing one in-between-looking leaf suspiciously.
Fawnheart sniffed the herb and touched it with her paw, "this one is still good. If they look like they have a little bit of life still left in them, keep them."
