camp BUNNY WARRIOR ❀ TANTRUM

LUNGWORTKIT

she's my collar.
Jul 25, 2024
18
2
3
Cotton had been her world. A landscape delineated in downy - soft blue - smoked fur and wide, sparkling eyes in a more vibrant hue; in a warm nose pressed to her aching forehead, and the white - tipped body that would encase hers with its fluffy warmth when her own tiny frame shook with chills. Ivory - sprinkled muzzle bore her prey - mush and strange leaves, and gradually, the inexplicable ache in her chest had eased a little, air guided to them by helping paws. Cotton had even given her a name, just like she and Wolf had—Lung - wort - kit, she had called her, and the girl had accepted it gratefully.

And now, suddenly, inexplicably, most of all unfairly—Cotton is gone.

" Cotton! " Lungwortkit wails through the mucus clogging her chest, a pitched - up kitten screech that reverbates through the medicine den's enclosed walls and out of its dark, heather - lined mouth. Tears bubble up in her lone split - hued eye, spilling down her cheek and leaving pale saltwater imitations of her tabby stripes; her small pink - blushed muzzle runs over with snot, face bunched up into a miserable crumple. She howls anew, " Co - o - o - o - otton! "

Her small white paws beat at the sick - stinking moss of her nest with what little energy she has in her healing body. The world is cold, and cruel, but it is most of all unfair in stealing Cotton away from her—Lungwortkit had not known of such care before it was suddenly delivered to her, and taken away with equal speed. The kit's weeping is without letup as she hiccups thickly, gasping for breath between each miserable lamentation of her situation. " Co - o - o - o - otton! Want Cotton! "
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OOC :
 
Bluefrost's paws take her to her sister's vacant nest more often than she means them to. She wants to offer her thorn-trodden paw, wants Cottonsprig's jaws to seep marigold onto their rawness, wants her sister's nearness, her comfort, but she's never there anymore. Her nest has grown cold. Stale. It's been only days, but it feels like a lifetime has passed since her littermate had told her goodbye... and what's worse — she's left her plague-ridden patient behind. She squeals and squeaks and hollers for Cotton!, but no one comes to her aid. No one can fill the hole Bluefrost's sister has left in WindClan, though.

"Silence." Her voice is cold and cruel as the leafbare winds. She eyes the sickly kitten with narrowed eyes; her heart hammers angrily in her chest. "She is not here. What do you want?" She stares blankly at the diseased kit, waiting for a comprehensible answer. There is no comfort Bluefrost can give Cottonsprig's abandoned ward — they are both missing the same cat, and neither will find a replacement on this day.

  • ooc:
  • 69334192_7vVwuq2U19bWMTh.png
  • Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — 17 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
    — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring Brackenpaw ; previously mentored n/a.
    — windclan lead warrior and queen. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
    — penned by Marquette.

    lh blue smoke she-cat with white and emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.


 
*+:。.。 TAH-DA-DA-DA-DAH!
When a kitten's in need, Viperpaw's here to rescue..theem...work on a punchy catchphrase later!

Paws pounding on worn earth, Viperpaw peers into the medicine den in time to see Bluefrost snap at the kit. Not very heroic at all, he thinks, which makes his toothy smile widen just a little further - ample opportunity to steal the crown, then! Pushing his way into the den was an easy feat - although lanky, the boy had his father's height. The weasel of a cat would slink past Bluefrost, finding his way to the rest area of the medicine cats. He frowned, noting immediately Bluefrost's scent had taken over much of Cottonsprig's bedding - perhaps Bluefrost truly is the villain of today's story? All the better to combat, then! Snickering to himself at the grand turn of events to an otherwise bland morning, the boy would sniff around Cotton's nest - the morality of messing with a missing girl's most vulnerable possession did not cross his mind- before he found a corner left...relatively Cotton-y.

Viperpaw is quick to steal a chunk of the moss, careful to claw out extra inches to avoid touching the moss himself, lest he further ruin the smell, before successfully picking it up. You could practically hear Starclan chanting his name!

Proudly, the boy trots back the way he'd come, popping up behind Bluefrost with glowing eyes. "HERE YOU GO!" he purrs, dropping Cotton's nest piece at the kitten's paws. "Cotton will be back, i'm sure of it!" lies weren't bad if it was for the sake of the greater good, and Viperpaw was both great AND good so, it checks out, "but in the meantime, here's this! Take a big sniff and it'll be like Cottonsprig never left!" Fool-proof!




  • "SPEECH"
    GENERAL:
    Viperpaw
    DFAB— He/Him
    7 moons
    Son of Snakehiss and Berrysnap
    Brother to Rowanpaw, Snakepaw and Privetpaw
    Windclan — Tunneler's apprentice





    COMBAT:
    Physically easy | mentally medium
    Attack in bold white
    None currently
 

Dimmingsun knows it to be foolish, but hope has a funny way of overriding all logic. A high-pitched voice calls for Cotton — one of the last things she managed to do before disappearing —, and he is drawn to it faster than he can give it a second thought. Perhaps if he manifests her gray pelt in the gentle shades of the medicine cats' den, she will be there when he rounds the corner... dutiful paws pressing on leaves and joyful smile greeting all who enter.

Cottonsprig is nowhere to be found. She hadn't played a trick on them and sneaked back home without anybody noticing. There is only Lungwortkit, pitiful in the way she cries for the one who brought her here.

It is a bitter thing to ponder about. Sunstar had not been too happy to welcome another outsider. Perhaps if the sun-kissed leader was nearly as cruel as the other Clans deem him to be, he would have already sent her away into certain death. Though... when Dimmingsun hears the rattle of her throat with a sharp intake of breath, he is guilty; sickness might be just as fatal, with just Wolfsong's paws around. He is capable, but not even he can call forth more herbs if the stock gets too low.

"Don't get too close," he utters to Viperpaw as he takes a few steps backwards. A pang of sympathy pricks him then for Bluefrost; the start of her pregnancy has been tumultuous. Still... plague-ridden or not, outsider or not, Dimmingsun wants to know what Lungwortkit thinks. "Well? What's the verdict?"