sensitive topics BLOOD SPORT [ nightmares ]

[falcongaze]

❝ CALLIN' IT QUITS NOW ✧°.☀ ————————————
// tw for sensitive topics! nightmares, sickness

Falconpaw tossed and turned in his nest. On one paw, he wasn't declining as quick as some had succumbed to the illness. The herbs he was given kept him afloat during the day, but what rest he did get- either during the night, or the waking hours of most of the cats in camp- was often disruptive. It was getting worse, and he knew it. He'd have to have a small talk with his family soon. See if they could convince Blazestar to get his father into camp. His heart ached knowing it would expose Vermillion to the sickness, but anything to see his papa before he dies, right? Right?

The nightmare tonight- today? He had no idea what time it was- was one that seemed to repeat often. Rushing through sewers, stagnant water soaking his paws. He was older then he had been when he lived there last. He thinks he can hear the huffing and puffing of another cat behind him, but when he turns, blue eyes see nothing in the darkness. He was not a Shadowclanner. Was he even a Skyclanner? Questions pierced at his hide as he raced and ran down the tunnels. Places his father had never let him explore, not even with another cat, not with how dark it was down here.

Dogs could see, though.

The thought sent pins and needles down to his paws, and when he turned his head this time, the flash and snap of white teeth near his head caused a shout to rock out. It wasn't just in his dream that he was spooked. In the waking hours, bright daylight filtering outside as cool leaf fall air brushed the sky, the whimpering and thrashing of Falconpaw was rising to a crescendo. His sick form was wheezing, feverish to the touch and curled up into a ball. The point was still running in his dream, a hound on his ankles. Snapping at him here and there, as if Falconpaw wouldn't be able to outrun them.

// feel free to hear from outside the sick den! it should be like. sunhigh outside, falconpaw is still currently asleep!



"SPEECH"

[penned by dallas - ☀]

———————————— ☀.°✧ BABY, I'M A WRECK ❞ ​

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[DAWNGLARE]

Dawnglare casts his gaze dutifully over those within his care. He ensures that breaths, strained and unsteady as they may be, continue to flow from the maws of the encumbered. Mentally, he keeps tabs on the herbs he may offer, and how often. He keeps tabs on his ever - dwindling supply of feverfew with an unwavering frown. He finds, acutely, that his nervousness spikes when the sick lay their eyes to rest. A shame, as this was not uncommon — it would not be, when there was little entertainment to be had beside visits from friends, and the tricks your own mind played on you.

He is thankful that the pile of bodies in his den had lessened significantly. ( And it’s with a tight chest that he reminds himself, not every case has been resolved with a cure. ) Falconpaw is one of the few that remain; sadly so, and it seems that his sleep is particularly fitful, this night. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was audible outside his den — and, the mid - day rest that it was, it may prove a nuisance.

Dawnglare tends to leave sleeping cats to lie, but he thinks, perhaps it may be unkind. The noise he makes is worrying, both for his health, and for whatever may have been conjured in his mind. Dawnglare looks over the twitching apprentice with a crease in his brow, before lightly prodding him. " ...Falconpaw? "

He thinks to leave it there. But instead, he asks, " Are you alright? "

OOC 𓆩♡𓆪 9.16.2023 𝘚𝘠𝘕𝘖𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎

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• 

• ( 𝙒𝙃𝙔'𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙎𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂? ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  —— He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  —— Currently 56 moons old. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  

  You may find him kinder to others than is typical, exhausted from the yellowcough blight and heart heavy in a way he has never felt.​

  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

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[MALLOWLARK]

What time was it, indeed- this den was his home, and yet being confined to it like this, too weak tot and and too ill to move, made the days blur into night and become unable to separate. The only solace was Dawnglare; most cats' mates and loved ones couldn't encroach the sacred quarantine for fear of the sickness burrowing its way into their bones, but Mallowlark had privilege there- he surpassed it all. The transcendent love between him and Dawnglare still held underlying nervousness, though- as much as he yearned to be near his mate, as attentive as his phantom had been, he knew the sickness could touch anyone. Even Dawnglare, wise to nature's reign and wisdom...

Fitful sleep, let alone restless sleep, was hard to come by- and it seemed the former had befallen poor Falconpaw. Seizing, spasming... even through the mist of his own sickness, Mallowlark set wide eyes upon the apprentice. Oh, horrific to see- was he dying? A young life, robbed right in front of him? This was the worst kind of death; in your sleep, in pain, alone. Mallowlark did not smile.

Slits of pupils flicked up to Dawnglare's face, catching the worry in the shapes he knew so well. Mallowlark swallowed. "S'he dying...?" His voice was raked with sadness, the hoarseness of crying ever-present in his tone since he's fallen sick.​

☺PENNED BY PIN​

 

[TATTEREDLIGHT]

just because i carry it so well doesn't mean it's not heavy .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The lanky tom joined recently, witnessing as a plague ran rampant and rogues fought over stolen prey. Lux felt awful. He couldn’t do much, but his hero complex refused to let him rest. He jumped at the chance to do anything, even when he had to drag himself on tired paws.

So when he nearly zoomed by if it wasn’t for Mallowlark’s comment, blinking languidly until he slipped inside, peeking at the sick cats with a conflicted expression, schooling it into a more neutral look. “Do you need anything Dawnglare?” He asked the medicine cat, helm tilted. “I can fetch some fresh water. It won’t take long.” He offered, staring at the sickly apprentice. ​

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thought speech​