Ayoo what the | hairball

[Plaguepaw]

A barbed salmon tongue rakes across grizzled black fur lazily to complete the chore of grooming himself. A rather dull expression adorned the patchy tom's face, utterly bored with the menial task at hand. But it was a necessary evil if he wanted Quillstrike to take him out for training later. Why did it matter if he looked prim and proper anyway? He was just going to get dirty all over again afterward. Bathing himself was pointless when he really thought about it. Suddenly, there is a churring within the midst of his sunken belly and a tickle making his mouth water mid lick. He sucked in a breath only to produce a sputtering cough and not soon after a wretched gagging sound. His outstretched limb plops to the ground and his back arches with watery eyes.

Another lengthy gag had the tom wobbling to his paws, sparse pelt fluffed in terror until his maw deposited a sopping mound of wet fur between his paws. Backpedaling away from the hairball he stares at it from afar with flattened ears. Mismatched eyes grow wider in alarm as his head swivels, spotting another clanmate staring directly at him. "W-where's Dawnglare?! I-I think I'm sick!" Was he sick? He felt completely fine a moment ago, but this was totally out of the norm for him. (Feel free to be the cat he's talking to!) ​

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ skyclan apprentice / eleven moons old / he/him ┈┈┈┈​

 

[FLUFFYPAW]

Fluffykit isn’t far from her mother’s watchful eyes, batting lazily at a crinkled strip of pine that’d fallen from one of the trees. Plaguepaw’s hacking interrupts her play; enormous green eyes round and stretch toward either corner of her face as sickening tearing sounds rip through his throat. She watches with relative horror as he coughs up a wad of something and lets it rest between his paws. “Oh, StarClan,” she says in a terribly adult voice, dismay tweaking her features. “Oh, he’s sick… he’s so sick…”

Though her fur is thick and luscious in density, Fluffykit is still groomed by Butterflytuft; she’s never experienced the joys of a hairball, nor has she seen one ejected from its host in such glorious fashion. Her own pelt begins to fluff out with fear as she calls, “S-someone! Dawnglare! Mama!” She puts her paws over her eyes, a soft whimpering sound escaping her muzzle.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: @butterflytuft mama tag
• 
• Fluffykit, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 3 moons old, ages realistically on the 9th.
  — mentored by n/a ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a.
  — skyclan kit. butterflytuft x dandelionwish, gen 3.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh chocolate tortie/cream chimera with jade eyes. frightened, clingy, anxious, gentle.
  
  

​

 

[weedpaw]

𓆝 . ° ✦ Weedkit is playing with Fluffykit, quietly batting at twigs and leaves, when Plaguepaw rudely interrupts his pointless maneuvers. It's the wet plop of Plaguepaw's hairball-vomit-pile-thing which first grabs Weedkit's attention. He makes a face and tries not to inhale through his nose. Looking at it makes him nauseous for a reason that he doesn't understand, and he looks to the queasy looking apprentice in an attempt to quell the feeling. Though it does not help much, given the sick panic on Plaguepaw's face as he cries out for Dawnglare.

Fluffykit reacts quicker than he does. "Gross," Weedkit states lowly beneath Fluffykit's desperate cries for their medicine cat and mother. His eyes go momentarily back to the mucousy lump between the apprentice's paws. Had he swallowed a whole mouse...? What was wrong with him? Fluffykit covers her eyes- probably to shield them from having to see Plaguepaw hurl again- and Weedkit steps in front of his sister as if to shield her from the scene as well. He joins in the call: "Dawnglare! Someone is sick in camp and It's gross!"

✧　°　.　✶　.　°　✧​

ooc Information

• ooc: —
• 
  
  

  WEEDKIT — HE/HIM ･ 3 MOONS ･ SKYCLAN KIT ･ PENNED BY CARAT!

  longhaired black tomcat with low white spotting. born 11/9/23 and ages realistically 1 week every Thursday. Follow along with his growth here!

​

 

[Drizzlepelt]

Being alert to all that’s happening around the clan seems to be Drizzlepelt’s main character trait, at this point. It was a learned skill, when he was surviving by himself in Twolegplace. Even if he’s more safe here, in his new home, his ears are always reaching out to make sure there’s nothing to panic about.

As soon as Dawnglare’s name is called, as it seems to always tend to be these days, he runs to the apprentice and the kit still by his side. It’s not like he has any medical knowledge, but he doesn’t want them to be alone while they wait for Weedkit to fetch Dawnglare. “What’s going on?” Drizzlepelt asks hastily. He hopes it’s not something new going around, since he doesn’t pick up the details as to how Plaguepaw is sick exactly, other than spotting the throw up on the ground. He’s been lucky so far…​

 

[Fireflyglow]

The call of kits and Drizzlepelt's voice in the distance has Fireflypaw sticking his head out of the medicine den, ears flattened against his head in worry. Was there another Yellowcough outbreak? Whitecough? Greencough? He surely hoped it was something like an upset stomach, surely. He turns to the back of the den where his mentor must be, fixing owlishly big eyes upon the high priest.

"Something's wrong with Plaguepaw. The kits are wailing." Fireflypaw informs the tom with a soft huff of worry, not waiting for Dawnglare to leave first before he himself marches out to find out what happened. He cannot see the hairy vomit, but he can smell it, very well. His nose shrivels in disgust momentarily, blind blue eyes turning to look at the kits whom called for Dawnglare. "Go on, Plaguepaw. How are you feeling, other than nauseous? Dizzy? Have you been eating properly recently? Stuffy nose?" He asks the tom calmly, moving his body just enough to shield the kits from the view of the vomit- well, as best as he could.

// mentor tag just in case!! @DAWNGLARE ​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 18 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

The clamour hit him like a mountain storm- and of course, Twitchbolt's mind immediately jumped to the conclusion that someone was dying right in the middle of camp. In front of a bunch of kits, too- Butterflytuft's kits, who he caught sight of with blown-wide eyes, Fluffykit wailing in distress, Weedkit shouting for the medicine cat. Plaguepaw, it was Plaguepaw- Quillstrike's apprentice, was he dying, too? But- but Plaguepaw was shouting for aid, concern in his usually-flippant voice, and at his paws...

It was a hairball. Kin in messy fur that spiked in all different directions, Twitchbolt was not a newcomer to hairballs... in fact, he remembered nearly hacking one up on his first day of apprenticeship. Scruffy and frazzled, his nerves began to calm- eyes glimmering with only a hint of panic flicked toward the mounting crowd. Oh, how embarassing...

"It's okay, he's- he's not... he'll be fine, Fluffykit, I promise," he tried desperately to soothe her with a quivering voice of his own, looking to Butterflytuft who was- who was much better at calming down her own child than he would be, surely. Oh, he wasn't really sure why he'd opened his mouth, if only to ensure- maybe, maybe- that the other kittens wouldn't start wailing, as well. Wide eyes looked to Drizzlepelt- to whom he whispered the word, "Hairball. He didn't want to embarrass Plaguepaw anymore, draw more attention to this... stress. Though he wasn't sure how it could get much worse. ​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[Plaguepaw]

Fluffykit's wails and Weedkit's disgruntled expression only pushed the gangly tom further on edge. Even they could see just how bad the situation was. To his dismay its not Dawnglare that shows up next but Drizzlepelt. Quaking limbs hardly hold the apprentice steady as he eyed the wad of fur. "I don't know. I was just grooming myself when I started choking, then this thing came flying out my mouth..." Allowing his jaw to slack thoughtfully he fell silent for a moment. His stomach rumbled with its usual hunger pangs, but now it's coupled with some discomfort beyond being just hungry. The slimy lump must have been the cause of it. His throat also aches from the forceful straining to cough the pile up. "My throat hurts a little and so does my stomach." Plaguepaw admits, lifting a paw to touch his neck.

He racked his brain for anything else odd and he did think of something but it was too embarrassing to say aloud. Sheepishly looked around the gathered crowd before edging closer to Dawnglare's protege. "Also I um..." He kneads the ground, heavily contemplating whether or not he should release such information. But Fireflypaw was a healer, he should be able to trust him. "I-I haven't been able to make dirt in like, two days..." He whispered into the apprentice's ear before pulling away. With bated breath he studied the bulky tom, hoping he wouldn't begin laughing or repeat the words even louder for all to hear. "Am I going to be okay?" He asked nervously as watching Twitchbolt lean over to whisper something in Drizzlepelt's ear. Whispering adults were never a good sign, he knew that well enough. ​

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ skyclan apprentice / eleven moons old / he/him ┈┈┈┈​