camp AGE OF ANXIETY \ insomnia


The sky lightened, sunlight's weak early rays bleeding in through the entrance of the medicine cat den. Was it late, or early? Featherkit's jaw tightened even with the gentle rise-and-fall of the sleeping bodies around him. He despised that he was awake- but he hadn't been able to help it.

Someone had died. He'd heard the news while stashed in some shadows, and had been unable to forget about it. From tidbits of conversation the chocolate tom had managed to gather that the illness going around wasn't a nice one- had the sprawling power to hurt, and... apparently, kill. She didn't know what to do with herself after hearing it- every time she closed her eyes she feared the illness itself might see her stillness as an opportunity to strike.

Life meant little to such a young mind, but he knew at least that he needed it.

Visibly wrought with disquietude as he padded into the early dawn, the bruised sky beginning to fade to yellow, Featherkit's jaws parted in a yawn. Her mind felt as if it was being kneaded by a powerful pair of paws, a headache that sent shockwaves through her whole body. Unsightly were his features, sleepy and scowling, as his vision shied from the rising sun.
✦ penned by pin
 

The coming dawn reveals a moorland clouded in fog. Harrerstripe had made his late night endeavour a little too long it seems… he had not intended on returning with the wake of the sun.

As quietly as possible he slips through the gorse, it’s yellow flowers drooping and ready to fall off, unable to adapt to the changing of seasons. Most, if not all of the clan should still be asleep. If he was lucky he’d be able to sneak right back into his nest and get a few blinks of sleep before being awoken for patrols…

That’s when he makes instant, head-on eye contact with Featherkit.

Of course it would be this one.

Carefully stepping over sleeping cats, he nears the she-kit and looks down upon him with narrowed eyes.

”No time for a kit to be up.” He grumbles, hovering over her, ”If I hadn’t gone to sleep when instructed as a kit, it would’ve gotten me my ears whakced, or worse.” Likely worse, he retorts in his head, lashing his tail.
  • » Harrierkit . Harrierpaw . Harrierstripe
    » WindClan Warrior
    » He/him
    » A black and chocolate chimera with golden eyes.
    » "Speech"thoughtsattack
  • » A foe who uses jeers and jaunts to distract his opponents.
    » Excels in using terrain to his advantage.
    » Fights to outwit and see another day.
    » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing
 
Sleep had come lightly to Downykit today, a mere dusting of night over their eyelids rather than the thick comforter it usually was, a soft and warm thing like their namesake. The pawsteps, even feather-light, of a fellow kitten were enough to make them stir, but not yet awaken. Lingering on the cusp of waking and drowsing, the quiet grumble of Harrierstripe's now pushed them decidedly over the edge.

Eyes the color of the pre-dawn sky flutter open. Downykit shifts in their nest, turning squinted gaze towards the brightest part of the den. Deep blue shadows had fallen through the entrance, the pointed ears of cats nestled in between the familiar dapples of late-blooming gorse flowers. They fight consciousness for a few more seconds, burying their nose into the weave of Brightshine's nest, but it stubbornly clings to their eyes and coaxes them back open. With an un-kitlike sigh, they carefully stand up and make their way out of the nursery as well. They've never been awake this early, anyway. Maybe there was something good to be found in it.

Ah, it's Featherkit. And a warrior they've never seen before. Downykit hasn't talked to Featherkit as much as they have their littermates, but the girl isn't particularly forthcoming with conversation either. They've been on the receiving end of her sun-sharp stare a few times. A few times too many. They expect him to give the dusky warrior the same treatment, even though they themself would never even contemplate so much as a strange glance towards him.

"Um, hi," they whisper, creeping closer. "Sorry." Are they trying to apologize for Featherkit too? They don't look at him and his scowl when they add, "I—we'll go to sleep soon. I promise." Downykit doesn't know what Featherkit is doing out here, and they don't exactly know what they're doing out either. They blink around, scavenging for a reason. "I, um, the sky. The sky is really pretty." A smile blossoms hesitantly upon their muzzle. "Why's it not like this every day?"
 
──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── "Allow me to worry about that, Harrierstripe," Wolfsong says lowly, the blue of his sole eye made colder by the early morning light. It rankles how the warrior gazes upon his kit, the slitted eyes and flicking tail enough to rouse the protective urge that waits behind claws and teeth first, and hesitation last. He lifts Featherkit by her scruff and deposits him just a short distance away, still close enough to converse with Downykit— though he doubts Featherkit will be so inclined.

He licks her ruffled fur down flat while listening to Brightshine's child, who, in contrast to his own kit, wears a smile and speaks of the sunlight fondly. "The sky has moods just as we do," he explains, before seeking Featherkit's gaze. "What has woken you this time, little Bird's Wing? You look to not feel well." A wrinkle forms in his brow. Surely it cannot be illness; it must simply be a lack of rest.
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WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 38 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.
  • ★★★☆☆ 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.
 

Harrierstripe saw him, again. Did warriorhood sharpen his eyesight? Featherkit's scowl reminded, though there was very little poison in his tone when he spoke at last. "Worse?" she asked, head tilting very slightly. His judgement of his awakeness rolled off Featherkit's back like fog off a hilltop. It wasn't his fault, and so was apathetic toward the chiding.

Downykit was not someone Featherkit knew very extensively- though that luxury was extended to very few beyond the chocolate tom's family. They were nice enough- calm and fairly quiet, the latter trait Featherkit particularly appreciated- but faced with them now, scrutinising eyes about, Featherkit found it very difficult to be friendly. There was something frosty beneath her skin, an icy urge that told her she should be scared. Of Downykit?, he thought, engaging its irrationality.

Still, acknowledging the silliness of that thought did very little to help Featherkit's demeanour- he was as hardy as ever, regarding Downykit the same as he did everyone else. Though he was to some extent unaware of it, unfriendliness was Featherkit's default. Scruffed swiftly by Wolfsong, Featherkit's sharp eyes slipped back over to Downykit's face. Why can't it be like this every day, they murmured, and Featherkit pondered the question- for there had to be a meaning for it.

"I c-c-c... I c-c-c... I slept b-bad." To punctuate his point, a yawn split his jaw. The concept of the sky's moods lulled his mind to some sort of calm, though- Featherkit was strangely without standoffishness as she murmured to Downykit (though did not look at them), "Wouldn't it get b-b-boring if the sky was the same all the time?"
✦ penned by pin
 
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Wolfsong strides up behind them, his one eye shot with silver by the dawn. Their impromptu companion is quickly lifted by her herb-scented father (Did Featherkit smell like herbs? They've never gotten close enough to her to know.) and deposited equally quickly nearer gold-dusted paws. Downykit glances between Wolfsong, Featherkit, and Harrierstripe, wondering if it was them Wolfsong had decided to remove Featherkit from—because the action of carrying itself was obviously to move something to somewhere, and they didn't know the purpose of moving him a whisker-length to the side if it wasn't for someone there.

WindClan's medicine cat doesn't seem like he particularly dislikes Downykit. Turned upon them, his gaze holds none of the tenderness reserved for his own children, but it isn't immediately harsh either. "Oh. Okay." They turn indigo eyes back towards the sky, wondering what mood it was in now, and Wolfsong directs a question to Featherkit. Little Bird's Wing? That wasn't her name. Before they can comment on it (and realize with another second that it feels mean to comment on it), Featherkit's voice punctuates the rosy light with a question of his own. "Um." They blink fiercely at the sky because Featherkit isn't looking at them, so they don't look at her either. "I guess." They lower their ears a touch. Is she calling them dumb for thinking that? Well, they're agreeing with her now. "It looks pretty now. It doesn't have to look the same all the time. It can be different and pretty," they meow, slow as they piece their own thoughts together. "Is being pretty a mood?"
 

"BABY, DON'T YOU KNOW I SUFFER?"
The loss of her parent's warmth caused Rivekit's eyes to crack open. Daylight barely brushed at the ground, and while she had been up late marveling at the sky before being dragged in for sleep, rest had come easy- unlike some of those now standing in camp. Rivekit grumbled softly, pushing herself up and stretching curiously. They padded out of the den soon enough to witness her sibling being settled aside by Wolfsong, who was addressing Harrier.

Rivekit's nostrils flared, and she padded forward. Each step served to awaken her, cause her eyes to widen slightly and that pep in her step becoming more energized with each step. Her maw split open to say a wealth of things towards Harrierstripe, despite Wolfsong only saying something- but the words that came from Featherkit next caused her to stop and near stumble. Mouth snapped closed, and her eyes shifted towards her, ears gently perking. For perhaps the first time, they bided their time- she kept her mouth shut and simply watched, and waited.

She broke from her stupor and slowly approached Featherkit, brushing up against her sibling softly. Rivekit did not interrupt their conversation. They knew that Featherkit had trouble starting conversation sometimes, so perhaps these two having their own conversation was a good thing! She turned her head towards Harrierstripe now, then Wolfsong. A tiny grin split on her muzzle, and she stuck her tongue out at Harrierstripe. That'll show him!
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