"Psychoanalysis doesn't have much to offer when it comes to happiness. It solves problems."

"Isn't the point of solving the problem easing up the sick? They grow happier when they recover." Mothwing pointed out.

"You can also solve a problem without acquiring happiness. You got your paw caught in a fox trap, so you had to bite it off. You solved the problem. You're ruined, because you're a warrior and need to hunt."

"But even then, being freed makes you feel better than staying trapped." she retorted.

"In that case, since we're going to evaluate happiness, we cease to be analysts and we become psychologists, because they do work with a theory of happiness, they have definitions for what is healthy, what is sickly, what is normal, what is pathological."

Mothwing snorted.

"Wouldn't that be easier, then?"

"It would be convenient" Fmo asserted in her mellow accent, "for us, but not the sick, or the hurt. Especially if confronted with something new. Every theory is incomplete, so we must deal correspondingly. We miss the entire problem when trying to settle for an easy solution."

...

Mothwing was about done sorting out herbs. But the question still burnt. It was as if other medicine cats did know something that she didn't. As if she missed something. Yet, it couldn't be. It had nothing to do with training or ceremonies. Some experiences are just impossible to have. As capable and smart as Leafpool, Willowshine, the other medicine cats, Kestrelflight, Alderheart, Puddleshine, and even the ones he came before, Barkface, Littlecloud, they all had to be collectively pretending. They were in charge of telling the great tales of Star Clan, so they would endure further generations and remind them of the ways of the warrior code. That was undeniable. The things that can't be explained are usually better left unexplained. We should stay with what we have, otherwise, we will get confused. This also seemed to be the case with everything the kittypet told her. As pretty as it all sounded, something was not quite right. No, not what she said about words and language, that was a different kind of truth, one that is self-evident. But this thistle weed? Medicine cats don't have self-evident truths — theirs must be proven. A body can't come back from a cure that hasn't been successfully tried out. She said she didn't want to practice a cure on anyone —good, she wasn't in a position to do so— but her outlandish ramblings were convincing much of Riverclan, even Willowshine! She would have to say it. She had no qualms with telling someone when she thought something didn't make sense. There she was.

"Long day, Lightpaw?"

The medicine cat called her from the entrance of her den.

"Fairly so, yes." Fmo replied.

"What about Hummingpaw?"

"Doing better than me. At the nursery right now, as usual."

"I see. You know, I wanted to talk to you, because Willowshine came to me yapping about phantasy and phantasms and more things you taught her about desire, and such."

The two she-cats finally faced each other.

"And frankly, I don't think that she should learn about all that. It's kittypet babble."

Fmo shrugged.

"I don't see the harm in learning a little about something you're not training for."

"I am not convinced that you trained for what say you did."

The expression on her face was not the expected. Who would have thought, the kittypet being more open and accepting of confrontation than most forest-born cats.

"Well, you don't have to. The circumstances of an analysis are very, very special. You might never see me perform one, and I wouldn't let you, anyway, unless you were the analysand."

"It's more than that," although she didn't want to admit it was largely because of what Lightpaw had answered "it's that I think the knowledge you carry doesn't work to cure someone."

She was feeling increasingly more tense, even if she gave no signals about it, and wondered if Lightpaw would be going through something similar, as neither her voice or the eyes on that stiff white body of hers changed as she spoke.

"I'm thinking of two answers here, but...do you need me to stop discussing psychoanalysis with the clan? I can do that, but I will still argue the usefulness of the practice."

"What I see is that it tells you very pretty things and gives no answers to them." Mothwing stated, firmly, like always.

"If you've only heard so much, it makes sense you reached that conclusion." Fmo circled her interlocutor. "But there's more to it. I barely learnt enough, in my short life."

Mothwing looked at her. She had an insolent air that always had an answer for everything, her right eye was covered by the black of her head and ear, on her otherwise white face, and it made it appear challenging. But from a complete view, her body sat straight, the tip of her tail lazily caressed the rough grass. The black regions on her back weren't visible, the white of her coat stood out, even if a bit matted, pure and fresh. She wasn't trying to outsmart her. She tried to tell her everything she knew.

Even in cold reasoning, this moment, stripped from everything around it, was bizarre. Nothing happened, but it was not something normal. Cats don't just stare silently at each other. There had to be a way in which they, somehow, were to be speaking to one another. And because they were using pure intuition, they most likely got the messages wrong. But the sky wouldn't fall.

"If you excuse me, I have to see how Willowshine's doing. She should be back, by now."

"Go ahead." Lightpaw nodded at her. "Chat with you later."

Mothwing didn't give herself the chance to look back.

…

Priscila was joined by Fmo at the nursery. She was laying next to Curlfeather and Havenpelt, but she stood up as soon as she saw her coming and licked her face, welcoming.

"I thought you wouldn't come." drawing nearer and lowering her voice.

"I actually thought I would last longer with her. She's a busy woman. She had an inquiry for me, but we sort of addressed it and then she dropped it and left."

"Another day, it will be." Priscila purred. "I've taken the chance to talk with every warrior that was free these past days and they've all got fascinating things to share. I haven't gone up to Mothwing since she left me here. One might think I'm intimidated or something."

"She is a very gorgeous cat." Fmo reckoned. "If I were a boy...I would try my luck, it's all I'm saying".

Her friend laughed and returned with the queens. Fmo didn't keep to herself:

"I wonder what her father looked like. If he only were still around…"