camp CIRCLE THE DRAIN ;; yellowcough'd

❀‿ It had been the dawn of a warm greenleaf day when Lupinepaw—still Lupinekit, back then—her fears to Bobbie about stepping into apprenticehood. She had been so small, and the forest seemed so big and scary, but perhaps in her own childish way she had prescribed the correct diagnosis to her intangible mess of feelings, even if they were expressed in simple words from a small mouth. The forest was an apathetic beast, with jaws that held no space for mercy, and Lupine had not the strength to fight it off.

Ironically, Lupinepaw had assumed that her precocious glimpse into fear and hopelessness was a strength of hers. Her peers didn't seem to fret as much as she did, it had become somewhat of a point of pride for the young she-cat. They were free to live with their youthful innocence for as long as they were able to, Lupine was alright with being the one to worry. She stared down the barrel of the cruel reality of life, daring it to catch her off guard. It could not, for she knew what it was capable of, and she'd armored herself accordingly with the ever-turning carousel of possibilities.

Bobbie had been victim of a dog attack before,—two dog attacks actually, she recalled her mother's abridged, kit-proofed recollection of what led her to join Skyclan before they were born— who was to say that it wouldn't happen again? Falconpaw had been attacked by a predator only a few days previous. She and her fellow apprentices spent their days training and hunting in the heights of the pines, it would be so easy for her or Drowsypaw or Cherrypaw or Crowpaw or any of them to slip and plummet to their doom. Perhaps she spent too long mulling over all the violent, gruesome ways everyone could die every day, but she figured there was some merit to being pleasantly surprised when another day passed that they did not come to fruition.

On that grey and gold painted morning before their apprentice ceremony, Lupine's fears were horrifically tangible—visions of teeth and claws and pools of blood filled her head. Back then, sickness was not even a passing thought in her mind, something tucked away in the unimportant corner of her mindscape floating nebulously as something to “be sure to go to the medicine den” for, should she come down with something akin to the sniffles. Back then, she didn’t know anything about the creeping dread of an invisible enemy, or of how much horror could fill up inside silence.

Lupinepaw did not have much of an appetite that previous evening, nor did she have the energy to care to chat with her clanmates or even give herself her daily scheduled evening groom, opting to head straight to her nest after her day’s obligations. She had been able to rationalize the thing that hovered over her the past few sunrises as simply another manifestation of that awful, but well-acquainted feeling that squirmed in her for all her life. It ebbed and flowed with time, she was beginning to realize. It had shrank amongst old moss in the elder's den with a brother she held dear, but spiked with a vengeance beneath pelting rain upon witnessing her friend who shone as full and bright as the moon be turned into something so small and terrified. She filed this new, draining feeling away as one of her known enemy's many mirrors, even if an itch in her brain whispered the other possibility. The mounting dread pressing against her pelt and tightening in her throat was ignored, as best she could, and she fell into a fitful sleep as many in this camp did before her.

It was still dark—just before the first pale creepings of dawn began to peak its head—when she sputtered awake, choking on phlegm and catching her breath with a shallow gasp. I need to go outside, get some fresh air... She thought, though reality had already begun to sink into her bones. This wasn't... she'd never felt this before. She stood on weak, wobbly limbs, putting all of her energy into avoiding jostling her sleeping denmates. Lupinepaw reached the entrance of the apprentice den after what felt like hours, the early-morning darkness swirling around her sickeningly as sat heavily. She was exhausted, bone-weary, and dizzy in a way she hadn't known before in her short life. Even as she moved agonizingly slow, like the air was made of thickened pine sap, her heart raced.

Lupinepaw was sick, she was sick and it was the thing that some medicine cat had named "yellowcough", and she was sick and Tallulahwing died from it after only a few days. And she was sick and Mountainheart was a strong, powerful warrior and she was scrawny and still had some of her kitten-thin fur. And she was sick and so was Crowpaw but he was getting better because Dawnglare and Fireflypaw gave him medicine and maybe they would give her some too but maybe he was only getting better because there was something innate inside him that was stronger than she was. She was sick and Orangeblossom and Figfeather and her mom had to go far away to find more medicine and who knows how long they would be gone. And she was sick and she was dying and she was going to die.

Eyes welled up with familiar tears, though this time the well-known constricting of her throat only made her cough worsen, and only left that much less room in her lungs for oxygen. She had to get to the medicine den. Her small, smokey black pile of fur inched along the perimeter of camp, crawling on her belly because it was too hard to stand up. Her diaphragm contracted with unwilling sobs, head pounding from the effort of trying to stop them from coming. She wanted to wail and scream but hadn't the energy to, so she just buried her head in her paws and cried to herself in the empty silence that still draped itself over a slumbering Skyclan. The sun crept upwards, and dawn broke into a sunny, yet chilled morning, and Lupinepaw remained shaking and miserable on the ground.

It was hopeless, she didn't know what to do, all she knew was that she was sick and she was dying and she was scared. Lupinepaw murmured into her fevered, tear-soaked paws, "I want my mom, I want my mom, I want my mom, I want my mommm..."

  • OOC: AAAAND SHE'S DOWN FOR THE COUNT!!!
    TLDR: Lupinepaw is sick and sprawled on the ground in a corner of camp at the break of dawn, having tried to crawl her way to the medicine den. She's extremely upset but not delirious, and is displaying symptoms of cough/fever.
  • lupine_fullbodyy.png
  • lupinekit . lupinepaw
    — trans she/her. 5mo apprentice of skyclan
    — ??? ; single
    — tall, long-haired black smoke with low white and green eyes
    — smells like sweet lupine flowers and young pine needles
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — icon by saturnid, fullbody and chibi by nya
    — penned by eezy
 
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✿—— dawn patrol—for most of their new apprentices, it was a thing to be dreaded, calling them out of their nests at the hours when only the sun was awake. strangely enough, bobbie enjoyed it - whether it was something about the tranquility of the empty forest or the rewarding feeling when she could head back with a fresh catch or the knowledge their borders were secure when most cats were newly waking, she did. it's not an uncommon sight to see the lilac tabby volunteer for them when it's needed, and today is no exception as she's waking in her nest as the moon is just sinking below the horizon. a moment to orient herself and give her pelt a quick wash and she heads out of the warriors' den, stepping carefully among her sleeping denmates.

it's with a pang as she steps into the morning-misted camp and waits for her patrolmates that she realizes this could be her last dawn patrol for moons (ever, is the whispered thought she refuses to entertain). their admittedly strange and patchwork group of volunteers would be leaving soon; the dwindling, possibly gone, supply of lungwort will not grow as they remain in camp, after all. crowpaw was sick, and it's selfish but she thanks the stars that he fell ill early enough for their lungwort to be more plentiful. she'd been kept from visiting him, of course, by the medicine cats' instruction and a desire for her own safety—a desire she'd been ashamed of at the time, but one she's grateful for in retrospect. she's been avoiding the medicine den and the sick; after all, it wouldn't bode well for her to bring yellowcough to the journeying party.

these are logical thoughts, if slightly wistful ones, logical thoughts lost to her as soon as she spots the small dark form sprawled in the corner of camp. the rational ideas that had seemed so easy to uphold when the sickness was a distant thing are gone - the reasoning that she must keep on with her duties, stay away from the sick, head out for this journey without looking back. these thoughts and more are gone the moment she sees a familiarly fluffy tail laid away from the slumped form, and though she prays her worst fears won't be confirmed, as she steps closer the shape only grows more familiar. two white paws, tufted ears hanging low with illness, the patrol members no doubt gathering nearby (or perhaps they'd slept in, she almost hopes) forgotten in the face of reality—the reality that it's her daughter on the ground, lying there in the dawning light.

"lu-lupinepaw?" her voice is a cut-glass gasp as she draws closer, ribs pressing her lungs close and choking her breath as green eyes search for motion. she can't be - she can't be dead, the tabby thinks faintly, pale gaze blown wide with terror as images race behind it—tallulahwing, sheepcurl, mountainheart, yukio (that he was not taken by sickness is forgotten in her fear), all garlanded in lavender and waiting for the earth to claim them. fear sprouts in that familiar spot in her chest and spreads colds vein throughout it until she thinks she's the one crying—a grasp barely loosened by the sounds of sobbing that reach her ears.

"i want my mom, i want my mom, i want my mom, i want my mommm..."

"i'm here, i'm here -" bobbie rasps, nose pressing to her daughter's ear—its rounded shell warm to the touch, far warmer than any healthy cat's should be. though the confirmation is barely needed; lupinepaw's hitching sobs and choked breaths can be heard from farther away than she is now as she drapes her maned head over her daughter's, willing tears back from her eyes. the tabby's head twists away and over her shoulder, towards any cat standing nearby, voice cutting sharp through any early-morning chatter, "s-someone get dawnglare and fireflypaw, now. i - i can't leave her like this."

the warrior turns back towards lupinepaw, all those thoughts of being practical and staying away from the ill forgotten the moment she glimpsed her daughter choked by the illness. the idea of having to leave lupinepaw behind, the fact that she must leave lupinepaw behind to retrieve the lungwort needed to save her, are distant thoughts she cowers from when they draw near. instead the tabby presses herself against her daughter's feverish pelt and murmurs, "it's okay, dawnglare and fireflypaw are going to -" her breath chokes for a moment, unable to confront the reality that the healers cannot help her daughter, "they're going to help you."

4d5460.png

  • ooc: ——
  • nothing here, have a nice day :-)
  • 69139399_py669CBh1zLPqxi.png
    — bobbie
    — she/her ; warrior of skyclan ; 40 ☾s
    "speech" ; thoughts ; attacks
    — chibi by its_oliverr
    — penned by dejavu

 
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  • Crying
Reactions: eezy
CALLIN' IT QUITS NOW ✧°.☀ ————————————
The rustling of someone climbing out their nest caused Falconpaw to stir. He hadn't been woken up early by Greeneyes- perhaps a small break between the two, and for the warrior, before he departed on the mission. A pang of grief, tangy like loss, fell through his body as his head back up. He wouldn't be losing his mentor, no, but it would be... it would be akin to leaving his father before. A small, shuddering breath left Falconpaw as he picked up his head. Lupinepaw looked like she was having plenty of trouble leaving the den. A soft huff left Falconpaw, a tiny sniffle following. His nose felt funny, he reasoned, but it wasn't anything to be worried about.

At least, he thought so. It wasn't like the scent of sickness clinging to the den or the nest near him... his blue eyes slid back open as thoughts started to piece themselves together. A warm nest, Lupinepaw's, smelled of sickness. Where did Lupine go? His fur stood up as Falconpaw pushed himself to his paws, stepping out of the den. Perhaps it was seconds, or even minutes later, after he had shut his eyes and opened them again with horrid thoughts clinging to his fur.

What he saw caused his heart to stutter. Lupinepaw was down, hardly moving on the ground, whining for her mother. And Bobbie was there, of course, as close as the warrior could be. Bobbie's vision found the lynx point, snapped an order. His head nodded, none too slowly, and on stumbling paws- was he getting bigger again?- he found his way to the medicine den. He shoved his head inside- a wince following, because he knew how early it was. He knew he'd be waking anyone still resting due to the dim light out. "Lupinepaw's collapsed. Please-"

His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "Please come quick." He tugged himself out of the way, shakily approaching the pair on the ground in the corner of camp. Lupinepaw's and his own spar came to mind, the soreness of his cheek, Cherrypaw... his gaze shifted towards the den, and he stepped back into the apprentice den, voice soft. "Cherrypaw. Cherrypaw, Lupinepaw is sick." If anyone shoudl have to bear the bad news, perhaps it'd be best if it was himself.

// @DAWNGLARE @Fireflypaw @Cherrypaw


"SPEECH"
[penned by dallas - ]
———————————— ☀.°✧ BABY, I'M A WRECK
 
Slate and Orangeblossom were merciful this sunrise. The latter hadn't assigned her the dawn patrol the day before, and the former hadn't insisted on dragging her out despite that. She sleeps half-buried in her nest, strewn with the wilting flowers she'd been too busy to replace and a pawful of the brightest feathers she's found so far, chief among them the blue-black beauty that Auburnflame had given her. The days have been cooling down, but only imperceptibly, so that she occassionally rolls around in her sleep to release the heat between her feathery locks of fur and the trappings of her nest. Even so, Lupinepaw's exit does not stir her, clumsy with fever that she is.

Something is poking her consciousness, brushing up against her ear fur and the backs of her eyelids. She wakens but does not open her eyes just yet, reluctant to let even the watery dawn light past her thin white shields. "Cherrypaw," the thing says again. She recognizes it. It's not a recognition she enjoys, or even a recognition she expects. The memory of his cheek scraping against her pawpad does not come immediately, but when her gaze flares open it is with an accustomed rage nonetheless. He says something else, and she seethes out a "What?" before his words fully pierce the veil of sleep.

"What?" she says again, softer, but not by much. She gathers herself into a sitting position, unwilling to drop her glare but unable to hold it as she processes the news. Her fur sticks out in all directions, mussed in the throes of dream; her eyes are squinted, her jaw slightly slack. "Lupinepaw's...sick?" Mismatched brows furrow, casting sooty shadows over her bleary gaze. "You...you woke me up for that? They can just treat her, right? Blazestar said a sunrise ago, lungwort's the cure..."

Silhouetted against the strengthening light, Falconpaw's expression is hard to discern. Yet, still there he stands, like a cinnamon-dusted moon hanging where it shouldn't be in the silver dawn sky. "Okay, uh, I'm gonna go see her," Cherrypaw murmurs. She pulls herself to her paws, something black and sticky pooling in her stomach, gluing her to her still-warm nest. She tries her best to tear it out of her mind as she emerges with Falconpaw into the morning, peeling stubborn strands of tar from the inside of her skull.

He leads her over to Lu—or doesn't, she doesn't remember. At first, Cherrypaw thinks this is a strange place to find her. Lupinepaw has gotten significantly bolder ever since they were made apprentices, so it'd be weird for her to sulk at the edges of camp like she used to do in the nursery when they were kits.

Then she hears her. A faint keening that jitters off the dirt-jammed walls of camp, muffled through the thin limbs crossed around her muzzle. Whatever's cloying her mind is getting harder to rip off; it fills her head like smoke and ash, thick and choking. It trickles down into her veins, her limbs, clogging her gears up with dark muck, trying to grind her to a halt before she can make it to where Bobbie kneels.

Lupinepaw's whiskers almost brush her paws where she stands. Her mother crouches against her trembling flank, looking as though she's doing her best not to dissolve into tears herself. "Lu..." Cherrypaw breathes. For a moment she can only stare. She's long since sobered up from sleep. Her wide yellow eyes rove over her shivering pelt as though picking through it for sickness like ticks, searching for a sign that she's okay. That she's just overreacting because she coughed once, and that the days-old tangles in her fur are simply a product of the night before.

Lu cries a lot. Sometimes she's a worrywart. Sometimes when she gets like that, Cherrypaw tells her to knock it off and use that mouth to carry this moss back to camp instead. The trees are perfectly safe, just trust your paws, okay? You're smart, maybe even smarter than me, you know where to put them—she'd say it with a laugh and a nudge, because they both know she's smarter. She's just there, she supposes. Even when Cherrypaw had been reduced to a sniveling shell of a girl that could hardly be called Lupinepaw's friend, she was there.

Cherrypaw had thought she was going to die that afternoon. Drowned in the rain, or, more embarrassingly, her own panic. It'd felt like the world had been a wall of water, and it was slowly closing in on her. And Lupinepaw had been there with her. She couldn't stave off the rain or pull the fear from her head, but she'd made the space a little bigger with her own frail body, slowing down the relentless crush of the walls.

"Lu, you're—you're fine," the calico chokes, because it must be true. Cherrypaw hadn't even thought about her when she volunteered to go beyond the pines, but she couldn't just abandon her here if she wasn't okay. Who would tell her she was being a dumb kit when she got all up in her head like that? Who would distract her from collecting moss and getting mouse bile? Bobbie wouldn't be able to because she was going to the mountains too. Crowpaw had already been cured: he was talking, sitting up, on the mend. And Lupinepaw would be too, when Dawnglare and Fireflypaw brought her the lungwort. "You mouse-brain, you're okay, they're gonna make you eat some icky leaf or something and then," Cherrypaw takes a breath, crouches down, and presses her forehead against Lupinepaw's. Heat blisters through their fur, but she doesn't pull away. "and then you're gonna be okay. Right, Bobbie?" She stares at the warrior, willing her to agree. The medicine cats would give her the lungwort, and then they would go to the mountains and bring some more back, and she wouldn't ever have to be this sick again. Right?​
 
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Commission_-_Fireflypaw_IcarusFell3.png
Fireflypaw is summoned from his den almost instantly the moment he is called out to, Dawnglare left behind with a wave of his tail. In his jaws he holds a leaf packed with herbs, carrying it quickly out to the growing crowd of cats gathered around Lupinepaw. His eyes blink exhaustion away, paws stomping the ground as he walks. "I'm here, Bobbie." Fireflypaw speaks, voice muffled by the leaf he held in his jaws. He drops it carefully on the ground, nose sniffing through the familiar herbs to try and find some sort of aid. The panic in the air was thick, but Fireflypaw holds his head high and keeps his opinion and words to himself aside from the brief encouraging words he gives Bobbie. Lupinepaw whines for their mother, and Fireflypaw reaches a paw out to attempt to smooth it over her head. Her ears are hot, he can feel the heat radiating off of Lupinepaw in waves. He stands up straight, rustling through his small batch of herbs only to find no Lungwort there. Were they out? They couldn't be out.

"Can you hold this leaf, Bobbie? I'm going to scruff Lupinepaw and carry her to my den." He finalizes, immediately moving around Cherrypaw to attempt to grasp Lupinepaw by her scruff in an attempt to carry her to the medicine den. "Dawnglare.. He might have some Lungwort in storage. I must have forgotten to pack it into my leaf." He mumbles around fur, tail swishing behind him as he begins to walk if scruffing Lupinepaw was successful. ​
SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 13 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS
 

✿—— she nods to falconpaw as he stumbles his way to the medicine den, turning her worried eyes back onto her ailing daughter. the tabby wants to offer a comforting lick as though lupinepaw were a kit at her flank again, but even in the throes of emotion, she knows that could be a fatal mistake. instead she presses her muzzle to her daughter's ear, fighting back tears of worry, of fear. as per usual, tragedy throws her off her even keel, and even as she consoles lupinepaw her thoughts are racing. does the cure remain, and if so - how much? is there enough to make sure her daughter's survival is an assurance instead of a chance? squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, she murnurs, "it's okay, it's okay."

cherrypaw is next to arrive, wide yellow eyes searching her daughter's dark and heaving pelt. it startles her to see the fiery young calico crouching besides lupinepaw and pressing their foreheads together, the lilac tabby drawing back a bit to let her daughter's friend (stars, when had that happened?) console her now. bobbie swallows hard as she lifts her head, nearly whispering, "y-yes, they'll - they'll help you, lupinepaw. you'll be okay."

"fireflypaw," she mews in relief, getting to her paws and glancing at the seal point. his presence is a welcome one, voice muffled but reassuring her that he's here. the tabby nods instantly, taking the leaf as the medicine apprentice attempts to grasp her daughter by the scruff, confusing the tabby slightly. for a moment she wants to offer her own help, but what good would it do? she might as well be crushed under lupinepaw, who's already starting to outpace her in height. instead, she trails after the apprentice with the leaf of unknown herbs if he's successful. surely he'd only forgotten it - surely they couldn't be out of it entirely.

4d5460.png

  • ooc: ——
  • nothing here, have a nice day :-)
  • 69139399_py669CBh1zLPqxi.png
    — bobbie
    — she/her ; warrior of skyclan ; 40 ☾s
    "speech" ; thoughts ; attacks
    — chibi by its_oliverr
    — penned by dejavu

 
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CALLIN' IT QUITS NOW ✧°.☀ ————————————
Cherrypaw's words were grumpy. His ears flicked empathetically, but there were other things at hand. He drew out of the way, to let her out of the den first and followed close on her heels, padding out from the den to beside her, leading her towards Lupine and her mother. He drew away the instant she could see them and broke towards them on her own. His eyes narrowed gently- not in anger, but rather in grief. He stood off to the side, biting his lip. He would only get in the way, he reasoned to himself.

So Falconpaw slowly sank to his haunches, sitting, watching, waiting. Hopefully, this fate didn't befall anyone else.


"SPEECH"
[penned by dallas - ]
———————————— ☀.°✧ BABY, I'M A WRECK
 
The cry of his name is nothing new – though the reality they currently live in sullies the sound almost absolutely. Epidemic spares no resource, he grasps at a bundle of feverfew – thankful that it has not diminished to nothing yet, despite it all. Dawnglare finds himself nosing around for it frequently, the patrols he tags along on second to its tangy scent. Honey is not far off, that indeed, lighter in supply, and would only continue to grow scarcer as the season dips into leaf - fall.

Never before, has he felt the need to rush so thoroughly. Those he’d helped had always, first and foremost, been ushered to his den. But when sickness travels quickly and symptom’s bring fog of mind, he is less inclined to wait. Lungwort, his paws draw over piles…

And they find none. His eyes are suddenly wide with panic, slits turning to new - moons in search of what he – the lot of them, desperately need. Breaths come out harsh, causing the smatter of other herbs to flutter as he noses closer. Unintentionally, he tears at some things that he should not, but they are not Lungwort, so he deigns not to care.

One more.

Plucked between the teeth is his last. He knows it to be so. He had watched it dwindle for a few sunrises now, and at last – with this, it would be gone. Dolloping it in honey and bundling it in a leaf, Dawnglare is out in the open the moment he can manage it.

It takes significant will not to squawk at the scene before him so that the herbs in his maw may unceremoniously tumble to the ground. Dawnglare meets his apprentice with a tail set in a lash, whiskers twitching with the extent of all he wishes to say. Placing the bundle atop the ground, at once, he would shout, " What are you doing? Do you intend to drag her across the ground? Do the sick not deserve respect? " Were Fireflypaw not to promptly drop her, Dawnglare would stare at him with the intensity of the sun until he does so.

" Your den. Ridiculous, " he mutters with a discontented sniff. Not for some time would it be. Dawnglare fears that time would be never with the way they act. " Lupinepaw, " he cranes his neck, dragging the bundle of honey - soaked lungwort and feverfew closer to him. " Can you understand me? " not all victims of Yellowcough could. " You will feel better if you eat these. " His other paw kneads anxiously at the dirt. Spoken, low, " I pray that you are the last one it reaches for. " His eyes are heavy, and the way that he looks to the final stem – gilded gold with its sweetening – conveys the vague despair at such a thing. Later, he would need to tell his apprentice.

  •  
  • ( 𝙒𝙃𝙔'𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙎𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂? ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
    —— He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
    —— Currently 55 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.
    Currently in an era of questioning; upset and uncomfortable by things he should not be.​
    Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads
 
❀‿ The few stars dwindling in the sky must be shining down on her at that moment because her mother is the first to find her. She continues to heave, trying to catch her breath amongst the squeezing fear pressing against her lungs, though the feeling of Bobbie at her flank soothes some of the tension pulled tight in her limbs. She tries to still her shuddering as she hears her bark out for someone to fetch Fireflypaw and Dawnglare, not wanting to remain the inconsolable mess she knew currently was when the medicine cats arrived. Lupinepaw whispers to her, so quietly she's unsure if made it past her lips or if she'd only thought it, "I'm scared, Mom..."

There's a smattering of footsteps, her eyes are still closed but she knows that other cats are around. And suddenly a familiar scent of hyacinth, cutting through the stuffiness of her nose or perhaps only imagined, is at her side as well. "Lu, you're—you're fine," she's saying, and Lupinepaw blinks blearily at Cherrypaw, regretting that once again the calico has to witness her snivel and cry like this. Her eyes are closed again as her friend presses her forehead against hers and she's assured that she will be just fine.

"O-okay... okay..." Lupinepaw says, though doubt fills her voice. The ache thrumming through her body tells her otherwise, steady and gnawing and boiling. She knew that they weren't lying, they were only hoping. She wished she believed it. Lupinepaw recalled then, that they would both be leaving her in only a few sunrises, off to find the cure in some far-off place, and she wanted to cry all over again. This couldn't be the last time she saw them, right? Not in this state...

Fireflypaw was next at her side, and she would remember that she was still in the middle of camp somewhere, and an inkling of embarrassment would tint her hazy mind. He said something about bringing her to their den and felt her scruff being pulled up, her head dizzying again at the shifting. As quickly as she was picked up, her scruff was dropped again, and her head was still spinning when Dawnglare arrived. She lifted a weary gaze toward his face when he addressed her, and she could not recall if he'd always been this terrifying to look at or if the fever made him appear like a blurry, red-coated phantom of judgment. She, however, was of sound enough mind to understand his words, for now, that is, "Um, yes... I can." She moves sluggishly to take the honey-coated leaf from him, his words skimming across her fevered brain. She would not understand the implications of his mutterings until later, upon further reflection and surrounded by the fading lives of her clanmates.

  • OOC:
  • lupine_fullbodyy.png
  • lupinekit . lupinepaw
    — trans she/her. 5mo apprentice of skyclan
    — ??? ; single
    — tall, long-haired black smoke with low white and green eyes
    — smells like sweet lupine flowers and young pine needles
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — icon by saturnid, fullbody and chibi by nya
    — penned by eezy
 
Commission_-_Fireflypaw_IcarusFell3.png
Dawnglare comes like thunder, Fireflypaw gently lowering the apprentice to the ground at the scolding he's received. "I didn't mean-" He tries to defend himself, to make sense of his words. He didn't mean that it was only his den, but would Dawnglare listen to him? No. Not in this moment. He tosses a look of apology over his shoulder at Bobbie, gently taking his herb left from the molly's jaws as Dawnglare gets to work. Like a good apprentice, an obedient one, Fireflypaw stays quiet and listens instead. His ears pushed back against his head, the smell of honey in the air.

I only wanted to get her to the medicine den. He thinks to himself bitterly, finds his teeth grinding against each other. Morningpaw's words ring in his head- he cannot be angry at his mentor. He must be under a lot of stress, now and forever. So instead, he takes to his mentor's side, waiting for the honey to be swallowed down with the last of the Lungwort.

The last of the Lungwort. He swallows around nothing, throat dry.​
SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 13 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS