sensitive topics AFTER THE GLOOM // illness symptoms

[SOOTSTAR]

SOOTSTAR ♀​

Sootstar wakes up with a groan. Air is fruitlessly sucked in through her clogged nose, the uncomfortable compressed feeling causes her to grimace. Rising dizzily onto her paws she opens her maw to take in a few deep breaths before forcing out sneezes to remove the built up mucus in her airways. She lifts a paw to brush at her runny nose, and though she can breath once more she sniffles with every intake of air. She side glances back at her nest, certain she must’ve woken her mate by now. Padding out from her den the leader almost instantly she bumps into Glimmerstep, the chatty she-cat chirps a good morning. ”…Morning.” She responds, though surprised by how hoarse and soft her voice was. She had barely heard herself. Glimmerstep gives her an almost sympathetic look before hurriedly trotting off. Furrowing her brow she clears her throat hoping it’d provide some relief.

 

[Bluepool]

Illness never failed to make the blue toned warrior insanely uncomfortable. It was disgusting to her. To see cats so weak, so fragile, it made her stomach twist. To see her sister like this, however, was a surprise. Bluepool had always thought the gray molly to be the strongest among them, the idea that she of all cats could be touched by illness unnerves her in a way that she does not fully understand. She watches the exchange between Sootstar and Glimmerstep pensively, standing a small distance away.

She waits until the other warrior is gone before she approaches, dipping her head respectively and unable to keep the worried look from her features. "Sister" she says in way of a greeting. "Your voice sounds... different today. Should I fetch you some water?" Perhaps it would help but truly she didn't know what to do short of going to get Wolfsong, but that was the least desirable option in her opinion.

​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

The sickness ravaging their camp for a second time has everyone on edge, it seems. Scorchstreak has found themself glad for their position within the tunnels, removed from much of the spread of disease within the gorse walls of their home. Clanmates are falling sick at each turn, Snailstride is dead, and yet this is no enemy that WindClan can fight or otherwise fend off. Claws mean nothing against the unseen foe that brings only death.

The voice that Sootstar speaks with is cracked, rumbling in a way that unsettles the tunnel-dwelling calico. Is the smoke-furred leader falling ill? What if Sootstar dies of this disease, incurable as it is? But there is no confirmation that she’s sick, Scorchstreak thinks. Bluepool seems to be clinging to the same hope, claiming that Sootstar’s voice sounds different. The calico’s gaze softens as they glance over at their fellow lead warrior—it must be more difficult for her, looking at her sister possibly falling into the throes of this sickness, this plague. With a small smile, they add, "Or would you like something to eat? Are you feeling well?"​

[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]​

​

 

[Periwinklebreeze.]

❀​❀ I AM SORRY THIS IS ALWAYS HOW IT GOES ❀❀​

---

periwinklebreeze & 13 moons & demi-boy & he/they & windclan moor runner​

---

He does not belong here - he doubts his worry would be welcome, even as blue eyes follow their leaders slight figure and his ears listen to the two lead warriors voice their worries and offer her help. And yet, he is - he cannot help it. for all that they do not get along, morals and personalities clashing, a sea of bad-blood and mistrust laying heavily between them, soostar is still his leader. He'd looked up to her once, soaking in her words like a good little sponge, felt special as she'd offered advice to him in his childhood.

And some part of him still does - if not through the same rose tinted lenses as before. He does not wish to see anymore of his clanmates die, not like snailstride or wisteriapaw - withering away from sickness without the help they need. No, not even her. But... if she will not listen to her sister, why should she listen to him? And so he bites his tongue, keeps his silence, and only watches - anxiety and far wriggling in his belly like prey-gone-bad. No one is safe from this sickness, he realizes - not her, not him, not anyone. Cure or not... what will become of them?

— the wind blows loudest when you've got your eyes closed ❀

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: —
  tw/cw: —
  
• 
  — a lithe figured black and white tom with a false-pointed pattern and clear blue eyes that gleam periwinkle in the right lighting. he seems perpetually worn and exhausted, with heavy bags beneath his eyes and a slouched figure. he has a speech impediment which leaves him with a stutter and sometimes even completely non-verbal, and his fluffy tail is adorned with daisies.
  
  — physically medium && mentally easy && pacifist
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay allowed
  — please attack using [b][color=#ccccff]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 

[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── He is...reluctant to be out and about in camp; it is a battle waged against instinct, which presses him back to the medicine den and into his nest, surrounded by the small wall of foliage Venomstrike had helped him build. Security, warmth, comfort— all increasingly desired as he knows his time draws near, but the conscious workings of his mind understand they are not possible now. This yellowcough needs his attention, and he intends to give it while he still can, until Cottonpaw will be forced to administer treatments on his behalf. With his guidance, of course.

He stands not far from the trio facing Sootstar. "Honey would soothe your throat," he offers, and turns partly toward the medicine den. ​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 38 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
  — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
  — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

​

 

[Mouseflight]

Outside of the tunnels, Mousepaw had decided that he was going to see what was going on in the camp, see if the illness was gone from the moors and if he would be able to continue life as normal - back in camp next to the other apprentices. When he saw a small group of cats gathering around Sootstar, however, he carefully made his way over, head cocked slightly to the side in curiosity as he tried to figure out what was happening, nose wrinkling slightly and paws stopping as he heard the words that were spoken by others surrounding their leader. Your voice sounds... different today. Are you feeling well? Honey would soothe your throat.

Euughh... face screwed up in slight disgust at the thought of going near a sick cat, and the apprentice quickly rearranged such a face in the hopes that no one noticed. He wasn't disgusted with Sootstar - she was a wonderful leader - he was simply disgusted at her and her weird gross illness that others seemed to be getting, and he didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea. He sat towards the back of the gathering crowd, tail lashing slightly. "Sleeping could help?" He'd suggest, trying his best to muster up a helpful smile. He just wanted the best for Sootstar, and her being away from everyone being all nasty and gross would be a bonus.

OOC INTERACTIONS ✧.·:·.*

• [ooc]
• windclan (sootstar) loyalist
  dirty fighter/will aim to kill
  will bully anyone (some more than others)
  

  
  

  likely to attack first
  powerplay peaceful actions okay
  ping if needed in a thread
  
• 
  8 months old
  ftm calico -- he/him
  tunneler apprentice
  
  large ears
  always looks grumpy

​

 

[WEASELCLAW]

Weaselclaw’s sleep had been troubled. Sootstar’s sniffling breath and hacking coughs had kept him from the deepest parts of his slumber, and he rolls over and watches her amble out of her den with tired eyes. He is one of few cats who knows how many lives his mate has left, and after hearing about yellowcough from the Gathering, he worries about how quickly their warriors will succumb to the disease. Sootstar seems mostly clear-headed this morning, but her voice is small and rough, and the other cats are quick to flock to her aid.

The tabby sits and watches, his chest feeling cold. Fives lives. It would take so little for StarClan to wrench her away from him and curse her to whatever awful fate they have planned, and this yellowcough had driven this home for him yet again. So many cats in this damnable forest wish to see her dead… and he becomes more convinced with each passing day that their ancestors have joined that cause.

He pads close to her, brushing his striped flank against hers. “You should have some honey and rest. Badgermoon and the rest of us can take over your duties until you feel better, I’m sure.” He looks into her green eyes, searching for signs of… well, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know enough to be sure of anything. He echoes everyone who has gathered, wishing he could be reassured.

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — weasel . weaselclaw
  — he/him ; lead warrior of windclan
  — heterosexual ; taken by Sootstar
  — short-haired chocolate tabby with white and blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Oliver

​

 

[VENOMSTRIKE]

( ) Venomstrike didn't like the sudden influx of sick cats within their ranks and he began to worry for little Redkit, Rattleheart, and Wolfsong. It would only be a matter of time before the sick potentially got them and they'd look just as awful or sound just as awful as Sootstar did at the given moment. He finds himself having mixed feelings about Sootstar being sick and the thoughts he has only for a heartbeat make him quite sick himself, much like Mousepaw does he make sure to keep himself distant from her but can't help but feel the tiniest bit concerned for his leader.

It's when Weaselclaw arrives does Venomstrike try to not grimace seeing the striped tabby brush against his mate, he's quick to change his expression and makes a mental note to stay away from Sootstar and Weaselclaw. He'd rather not catch whatever his clanmates had and would back away slowly before sitting down with ears laying flat against his head. Whatever it is... It stripped the lives of those who fell ill, he recalls the few that they had already lost and feels his chest ache. ​

( ME GUSTA LA MAÑANA; ME GUSTAS TÚ )

 

[SOOTSTAR]

SOOTSTAR​

She grunts and tries to clear her throat, before she can blink it seems the whole clan has become aware of her state. The blue she-cat feels her skin grow got with humiliation. "No food..." She declines Scorchstreak hoarsely, Bluepool's mention of water sounds more appealing... Maybe that will rid her throat of whatever gunk it holds. She nods, sparing her throat from having to sound a 'yes'. Wolfsong offers honey and Mousepaw suggests sleeping. Weaselclaw brushes up against her flank and agrees with them both, advising her to listen while Badgermoon and the rest of the council take over. She's reluctant to agree... but she's no fool to the reluctant glances exchanged and the clan-mates who've decided to take several paces back. "Water, honey, and rest." Sootstar agrees with a mild flattening of her ears. It's all she can make herself verbally give, every noise she growled from her throat pained her. With a look of assurance to her mate she turns and takes for the medicine cats den, supressing a cough.

☾ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Soot ․ Sootstar
  » WindClan Leader
  » She/her ․ Mate to Weaselclaw
  » Tiny blue smoke she-cat with green eyes.
  » "Speech" ․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A high-stamina foe who can be difficult to hit.
  » Excels in quick, short moves.
  » Fights to kill and maim
  » Fatal attack of choice is an underbelly dive.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[cottonsprig]

Rage is not new to Cottonpaw; she is her mother's daughter, and though infrequent, she knows the fire in her chest all the same. Anger that her mother's health is in the balance. It's unfortunate that the ice in her paws feels aptly more familiar, however - fear, she's to call it, as with no immediate cure... what will become of Sootstar? If she dies, would StarClan grace her lungs with newfound health, or let her perish several times more?

There's a thousand and one offers for Sootstar, each one of more use than the last. She catches the glance between her parents and ignores the pressing urge to push them apart. Sootstar could die once and come back but Weaselclaw - he cannot. He isn't as blessed as she is. She can't lose her father.

Ears pinning back, Cottonpaw moves to take up her mother's side. She tries her usual smile towards the she-cat, "I guess it's my turn to take care of you!" she tries to inject some lightheartedness into the situation, tail twitching. She ignores the fact that a nursemaid truly cared for them after a short bit - the details didn't matter that much.​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

Seeing their leader so silent, laden with the symptoms of this cursed SkyClan illness, is concerning. Honey, water, and rest, Sootstar agrees with her clanmates’ suggestions; Cottonpaw says something heartwarming about taking her turn caring for her mother. Scorchstreak can only hope that her own kits would have such conviction to care for herself.

Glancing around at the others who have gathered, Scorchstreak nods stiffly. They are not doing much, here, to help the smoky she-cat feel any better. And if she has the dreaded sickness, then no one should remain too close to her. No more WindClanners can risk falling ill. "We should clear out, then. You’ll need your rest." She trusts the healer and his apprentice—her former apprentice—to keep their leader as comfortable and healthy as possible. With a flick of her tail, she turns to begin walking away, calling back over her shoulder, "I hope you start to feel better quickly, Sootstar. Until then, you needn’t worry about the clan. We can handle your duties as a team." Her gaze flicks to Weaselclaw, to Bluepool, as she voices her agreement with the leader’s mate. They are a team, all of them, and they can support the clan while Sootstar rests.​

[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]​

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