sensitive topics ASLEEP AMOUNG ENDIVES [ꕥ] DEATH

Lambcurl does not have much company here. For that, he should be grateful, that the sickness that grasped SkyClan with sharp talons has but a kitten’s hold on WindClan, in comparison. He does not mind that he is one of the few it has trapped. He has never minded things like that.

When he had first stuck his head out from the barn, he had seen the stars, and he had known that he would die for them. He had been misguided for all the time before. Tucked somewhere the stars could not find him, he had curled up in fear at night – afraid of the dark; left with no tail to cover his nose, only having his own paws, and the other cats that did not quite understand him.

That is not to say that they should have. Even now, he has failed to ever find that outside of moments that were fleeting. A wide smile with too many teeth, other pelts caked in dirt – his friends that he could find smiles in. It was never quite perfect, though. And that was quite fine. The earth and the stars brought him solace that no soul ever quite could. Whatever life he lived would be enough, as long as he had them. If the stars shined kindest over WindClan, then WindClan is what he should be. All he has ever wanted is to be good.

He is satisfied, and yet not at all, that sickness has gripped him so quickly. He had always wanted to die for good reason, so that stones and shiny things would be dropped at his grave, and he could listen kindly to those prayers; know that there is someone whom he had helped.

Who was he helping, like this?

By bringing the sickness elsewhere to die, he figures. If he could, he would put all of the worlds illness unto himself, so that he would take it down with him. That was not how it worked, though. No, it was not.

It would be difficult for him to fit within his sleep. When his mind is kindly numbed and his body too tired to do very much at all. It would be just as much of a lie to say it was fitful, as it would be to say that it was not at all. He has lived a good life, hasn't he? But what did that mean, if his loss suited no one else at all? Must he dream instead, of the maggots that would worm their way into his flesh? Of those in the future who may find his bones deep in the soil?

With his breath then, he sighs his only regret out into dawn. At least the earth would cradle him kindly, he thinks.

  • OOC: he passed in his sleep within the abandoned badger set :')
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    LAMBCURL: HE / HIM , CISGENDER MALE ; GAY & SINGLE, IN LOVE WITH EVERYBODY ; TUNNELER OF WINDCLAN ; 45
    tiny, curly - furred albino tom with teary pink eyes. ; dreamy – eyed and dreamy – minded, Lambcurl drags himself across the land with an ever-present smile and glassy bug eyes. Deeply honored to hold his position as a tunneler and whisperingly reverent with everything he does. Somewhat unnerving in ideals and the way he speaks, but he means well.
 
──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── He visits the badger set as often as he can between stockpiling herbs, watching clanmates for signs of sickness, and caring for his kits. Wolfsong knows it isn't a perfect system; even with Cottonpaw's help, it can be overwhelming. He does his best, and until their clanmates return from the journey with lungwort, that is all he can do. It isn't always going to be enough. Despite his expectation for the worst, it does not ease the weight on his chest when he arrives at the badger set to see Lambcurl's motionless body.

His remaining eye closes. Sorrow is a stone, and weariness the water it disturbs when it settles at the bottom. His gaze finds the other patients, particularly Weaselclaw. "I will move him outside. Please, do not attempt to help— you must conserve your strength. In the meantime, how are you feeling?"

/@WEASELCLAW
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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.
 
Weaselclaw sees an angel of death, and he walks on paws that glitter with black stars. The angel wears a single flame-colored eye, the other sealed shut for all eternity by Weaselclaw’s own claws. He is black-pelted, flecked with snowflakes, and he does not smile. His expression is grim as he hovers over Lambcurl’s nest, as he takes Weaselclaw’s Clanmate away from them. The tabby trembles, sweat popping on all four of his paws. “Don’t take him, you foxheart,” he tries to say, but it comes out in a wobbly croak.

Lambcurl seems to look back at him with regret, but he cannot say no to the angel, and they leave—they leave Weaselclaw and Moorpaw alone with a corpse who cannot stand, walk, breathe.

No more than he can.

He curses the monster who walks with Smokethroat’s skin and pelt, digging his claws fruitlessly into the nest that has become his prison rather than his comfort. The stench of death begins to layer over the miasma of disease. “Wolfsong,” he tries to say, his eyes wide. “Are you actually there? Did you see—” He shudders, chills gripping his thin body with talons like an eagle’s, “did you see the cat who—who took h-him?

His teeth chatter, even as sweat soaks brown tabby fur.


  • side note: he's not seeing shit irl he's delirious lol
  • 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
 
──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── His frown deepens. Clearly a delirium from the fever has set in, strong enough that he is hallucinating. "There was no one else here," he explains, gentle but firm, before he picks up the herbs and moves into the abandoned den. He sets them down again beside the shivering warrior, and he prods Weaselclaw's paw with a ball of moss. "Drink from this, and then I will need you to eat something for me. It will bring this fever of yours down— and you shouldn't feel cold anymore." A temporary solution, and he does not know how long such measures will last effectively. At what point will he simply be dragging the sick back from the cusp of death, and at what point will he be holding them by their scruffs as they dangle?

He presses feverfew forward with a slow exhale. Behind him, Lambcurl's body waits like a shadow in his periphery.
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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.