private DOWN IN A HOLE — comfreypaw

[ROOSTERSTRUT]

The days seemed to only bleed together now, indistinct and mundane in nature. Roosterstrut was merely a husk of what he used to be, having been holed up in Starlingheart's den for StarClan knows how long. He knows the journeying cats had only departed a short while ago, though he prays for their swift return. He wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to keep a grip on his sanity in this place.

Less warriors meant less food. Roosterstrut isn't sure of the last time he's eaten a proper meal, as his appetite has decreased substantially since coming down with Yellowcough; bites and nibbles of things here and there, but nothing much more. Today, a meager lizard sits at his paws, green eyes dulled and staring blankly at his ration. This mere snack was simply a means of his heart pumping; he knows that the healthy cats required heartier meals so that they could continue hunting as well as defending the borders.

Heavy eyes sunken into his skull flit toward one of his denmates. "Comfreypaw..." Roosterstrut manages weakly, using his paw to slide the limp lizard in the apprentice's direction. Seeing her in here makes him sad and angry, as well as scared. Starlingheart was doing everything she could to keep ShadowClan's ill alive, but what if it wouldn't be enough? Heavybranch had just succumbed to Yellowcough only recently. Thinking of the elder, knowing he couldn't be there to say his goodbyes or attend his vigil, made his heart ache though he tried not to dwell on it for too long.

"Here... take it." Roosterstrut meows, sniffling as his nostrils continue to weep uncontrollably. "It's not much, but—" Ducking his head away, Roosterstrut expels several heavy coughs from his lungs, nearly embarrassed at the sickly sight he's become. A strong and healthy warrior of ShadowClan, reduced to a bedridden, watery-eyed, and snot-nosed lump of fur. He should have been out there, helping the other clans find lungwort. He knew he would have been perfectly capable, too, had he not caught this life-draining sickness.

✰ INFO

• @COMFREYPAW
  
• 

  ✰ ROOSTERSTRUT
  —— he/him; warrior of shadowclan
  —— heteroflexible; single
  —— red tabby tom with long hair and pale green eyes
  —— "speech", thoughts, attack
  —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
  —— penned by beatles

​

 

[COMFREYPAW]

Someone speaks her name. Comfreypaw stirs, shadow-striped and small in her nest. The movement itches her throat, and an explosion of pain erupts from below her ribs and into open air. “Who…” She blinks bleary amber eyes open, lifting her head to see who’d addressed her. A patch of coppery-red fur sits not too far, nestled into his own sickbed. The young charcoal tabby she-cat smiles weakly at the offering he presents her—a tiny lizard.

“You should eat it.” She shifts, trying to get comfortable, but it’s impossible when her body aches so. She misses her nest in the apprentice’s den, misses being close to Applepaw and Honeypaw and her other friends, even mean Maggotpaw and haughty Wheatpaw. She blinks, half-lidded golden gaze sliding to the lizard again. “Has Betonyfrost been by…?” She had hoped her mother would come visit, but… perhaps it would be foolish for her to do so. She’d only sicken, too, and then they’d all be trapped here.

After a moment, Comfreypaw accepts Roosterstrut’s gift, knowing the tom only wants her to eat. She scoops it closer with dark paws and pierces the skull with a pointed fang. It tastes of dust. She struggles to swallow her mouthfuls. “Thank you… but… I can’t…” After only a few bites, she’s pushing it back toward him, stifling a gagging burp behind the silken tuft of her tail.

Silence pauses between them. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I used to think…” She coughs, and the chill finds its way beneath her ruffled pelt. She huddles in her nest, shivering. Remembering Betonyfrost’s scorn toward her after she’d asked if Roosterstrut was her father was almost as bad as the cold. “…I’m sorry about that.”

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — comfreykit . comfreypaw
  — she/her, apprentice of shadowclan
  — bisexual ; single
  — short-haired charcoal tabby with amber eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — art by Meadowllark

​

 

[ROOSTERSTRUT]

Comfreypaw stirs. Good; she is still uncomfortable and miserable, he's sure, but she is breathing and alive. When the apprentice inquires about her mother, Roosterstrut blinks and gives a single shake of his head, "No." Betonyfrost needed to remain away from the ill cats, along with the other healthy warriors, so that she could continue to hunt and provide for ShadowClan with so many out of commission. She needed to stay healthy so that she could continue being a mother to her children. Rooster's own mother had been swiftly taken by a silent illness, leaving him without parents — he would never wish the same for Betonyfrost's brood, especially since they were still young.

The warrior is satisfied to see the charcoal tabby eating something, even if it wasn't much. It was better than nothing at all. "Gotta keep your strength up... if we're gonna make it out of this, right?" And they would. There was no ounce of doubt in his voice, as much as his hope began to falter with each passing day that the journeying cats did not return. Roosterstrut could not let the she-cat think that he had given up on her, on himself, on everybody else in this den.

She eventually breaks the silence between them, apologizing, and for what? It takes a moment longer than usual, considering the heavy fog that clouds his brain, but he eventually registers what Comfreypaw is alluding to. His features soften, sympathetic. "Don't..." Don't be sorry, he urges to clarify, but his energy reserves are dwindling like flowers in leafbare. A tender pang intensifies beyond the walls of his furred chest, which heaves and falls wearily as sickness wracks his entire being. "You know -cough- I would be, if it were up to me..." However, it was never meant to be. If Betonyfrost hadn't made the choices she made, Yarrowpaw, Jitterpaw, and Comfreypaw wouldn't be here today. Roosterstrut would rather make the most of what they had here and now, rather than wish for something that could have been.

He knows, in a sense, how hard it is. He knows what it was like to yearn for the love of another parent that could never be there. What pained Roosterstrut even more was that Comfreypaw and her siblings didn't have any memory of their father to hold onto.

In spite of everything, Roosterstrut vows aloud, "I'll... never stop looking out for you kids. No matter what. I'm still proud of you... no matter what." It's hard even to fathom the breakneck rate at which Betonyfrost's kits were growing, maturing, and becoming warriors. Roosterstrut offers a smile, weak in nature, to Comfreypaw. It goes unspoken, but he hopes that she understands that she can view him as her own kin, even if they did not share blood.

✰ INFO

• 
  
• 

  ✰ ROOSTERSTRUT
  —— he/him; warrior of shadowclan
  —— heteroflexible; single
  —— red tabby tom with long hair and pale green eyes
  —— "speech", thoughts, attack
  —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
  —— penned by beatles

​

 

[COMFREYPAW]

Roosterstrut answers her bluntly, but not unkindly. No, Betonyfrost hasn’t been by, and Comfreypaw does her best not to look disappointed. “Good,” she says in a small voice. “I don’t want her to get sick, too…” She’s not a kit anymore, she tells herself, rubbing at her dark stub of a nose to dab away the moisture. Comfreypaw is eight moons old. Already, when she looks at her reflection in the stippling pools just outside camp, she sees a different cat. The kitten roundness had sharpened, and she sees traits her mother does not have that she has not recognized in another cat. The shape of her ears, her small, athletic build, the way her tail feathers at the end—they are distinct from her mother’s body.

Perhaps this is why she clings to foolish notions like fatherhood. Comfreypaw remembers her mother’s scolding. “Are you going to think any tom that spares you a glance is your father?” Her ears lower at the memory of her tears, of her embarrassment. She studies Roosterstrut, finding again that none of these traits are echoed in his own. “I’ll always care about you, too,” she murmurs. “I should have given those kit dreams up a long time ago. I’m…” She coughs, covering her mouth with a paw that gathers wetness. To her relief, it’s mostly clear. “…I’m focusing on being a great ShadowClan warrior now. That’s what matters.”

Truthfully, the quality of her warrior skills means little to her. Applepaw wants to be the best, but Comfreypaw wants to be appreciated—she wants to be loved.

ooc ✧ i̶n̶ ̶m̶y̶ ̶h̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶a̶ ̶p̶e̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶'̶l̶l̶ ̶w̶r̶i̶t̶e̶ ̶a̶ ̶p̶o̶e̶m̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶m̶e̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶

•  
•  
• 

  — comfreykit . comfreypaw
  — she/her, apprentice of shadowclan
  — bisexual ; single
  — short-haired charcoal tabby with amber eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Yewforia

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