private DEVIL'S TRAIN ☆ beefang & claythorn

[CICADAFLIGHT]

Somehow, he's ended up in the makeshift medicine den in the Beech Copse despite his protests. His mouth tastes awful, he realizes as he drinks blindly from a bundle of damp moss someone's brought, and he thinks he might've thrown up once on the way here. Maybe twice. He's not very sure. His stomach is still roiling protestingly somewhere below his burning throat even though he's pretty sure he didn't eat any bad prey ... oh, wait, shit, the rock. The big-ass rock (that's what he thinks it was?) that he cracked his head on while paddling out with Eelkit. Maybe that's why his head hurts so much ... and his ears are ringing horribly ... and he's really tired. He kind of wants to go to sleep. But ...

" Where's Sandpelt? " Logically, he should be worried about his siblings and his younger cousins. Or maybe little Eelkit who he'd done this all for, or Claythorn's other kits, or Claythorn herself, or Driftwood or Herondawn or ... man, he's running out of cats. What was he thinking about? Oh, yeah. But the thing is, all those cats are strong enough swimmers (well, mostly) or at least competent-ish. Unlike Sandpelt, who he knows well is not very good at much of anything, probably including swimming, and he hasn't seen that annoying cream-and-fawn pelt in a minute.

He's not in his right mind, anyways, or at least that's what he'll chalk it up to later. Moonbeam had palpated the shallow gash on the back of his head and set him in this hasty nest with an ordered four sunrises of bed rest, and normally he swears he'd listen to her, but ... " Where 's he? " he meows hoarsely, his voice slurring a little. Opting to decide Moonbeam's orders are more of a suggestion, he props himself up on his sturdy forelimbs and attempts to get out of his nest. " I wanna go, " Cicadaflight grumbles stubbornly against his two visitors' (when did they get here, anyways?) protests. " I wanna help find him. "

OOC : @BEEFANG & @claythorn !!

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