private EVEN HAPPINESS EXHAUSTS ME [✿] fireflypaw

[DOEBLAZE]

✿—— instead of crossing to the fresh-kill pile as she might usually to deposit a catch—when she makes them at all, which is rare—bobbie finds her paws turning towards the entrance to the medicine den. hazel branches weave about the burrow's opening, doing nothing to soothe her jangled nerves as she ducks hesitantly inside. thank the stars, none of her small family have found themselves trapped inside (yet? surely not), but she can perhaps bring someone the plump greenleaf mouse she was lucky enough to find on today's patrol. fireflypaw, maybe, or one of the ailing patients languishing inside—though if the only one she finds inside is dawnglare, she'll be sure to find someone else to gift it to instead.

as difficult as she imagines blazestar's role to be right now, she certainly doesn't envy their healers; not in this time, when sickness and death rip through their ranks as easily as any claw. she knows little, and what she does know is troubling—that the disease strikes fast, takes lives faster. that there is no known cure, according to dawnglare, only ways to ease the suffering of the ill. this in mind, she's careful to steer clear of the patient nests filled with wheezing and delirious cats, instead moving closer to where she assumes fireflypaw must be; the herb stores. if she can't find him, she'll leave the mouse by one of the ailing cats and leave this shadowy den behind; filled with illness and herb-scent, it feels distinctly less welcoming without blazestar by her side.

no need to think about such things. instead she peers into the shadows of the den, calling out around the mouse—softly, as so not to wake any of the sleeping ill, "fireflypaw? i brought you s-some fresh-kill."

NO LOVE, HOWEVER BRIEF (✿) 𝑰𝑺 𝑾𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑫

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

​

 

[Fireflyglow]

The sound of Bobbie's voice rings above the snores and coughs of his patients, head swiveling owlishly backwards to look in the direction of the femme's voice. Head turned upside down momentarily, before he finally lets his body follow soon after, shifting to the direction of Bobbie's voice. His tail twitches. A quick scent of the air reveals the smell of freshkill, fresh and still warm, probably. His mouth waters then, stomach instantly reacting to the food and growling like a beast in a cage.

"Bobbie! Oh, thank the stars. I thought I would never get the time to eat." He hums out in greeting, padding over with a gentle smile. His shoulders slouch then, the tom making himself smaller on instinct as he gestures for Bobbie to follow him outside of the medicine den with the food. "I don't wanna eat in front of 'em." He surmises bluntly, shaking out his pelt as he pushes out of the heather bush for a fresh breath of air. He gulps it in for a moment, the scent of death and illness fading away to the scent of the pine forest.

He inhales the scent like it's like his last, even though he knows it won't be. This illness.. He was immune, gifted by the stars to survive it after his bout with illness once. The High Priest would protect him, ward off the illness from them. But why, he wondered, was Sheepcurl a victim of this illness? Mountainheart? Tallulahwing? Mouser? His eyes blink sadly towards the sky, before his attention is drawn back down to the fresh-kill scent.

Leaning down, he takes a mouthful of mouse in his mouth and swallows after a good few chews. "This is delicious! Did you catch it, Bobbie? You're so talented!" He meows softly, amazed. Though, his smile seemed a bit forced- he used to be able to hunt, too. Really well, mind you. No squirrel could escape him when he was younger. "You know, I used to catch squirrels like nobody's business. Before I lost my sight completely, it was a bit hard but the squirrel was so.. well, squirrel-y." He chuckles, turning back to the woman with wide pale hues. ​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 13 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

✿—— it's slightly (perhaps more than slightly) creepy how fireflypaw's head swivels around in a way that makes her ears twitch, wondering how that could possibly be normal for a cat. she should expect no less for a cat mentored by dawnglare and sharing a den with the fox-pelted (and fox-hearted) tom and his creepy dark-pawed mate, she supposes, though she believes fireflypaw to be a little more ... palatable than his mentor. now that she's located the pointed tom, she's happy to follow him outside, away from the stench of death and illness and the feverish bodies piled high in the nest. bobbie takes a seat, dipping her head though she knows he can't see her—it's the principle of respect that matters as she replies with a tired but genuine cheer, "happy to oblige, then - and i don't blame y-you. you can even smell the illness in there."

it's the least fireflypaw deserves, she thinks—though she has little sympathy for dawnglare, the cinnamon tom and his apprentice had seemed stressed, working themselves to the bone over this strange plague. it's a reminder that, despite her distaste for the crimson-spined medic, he does good work for their clan; fireflypaw not only does the same, she finds him much easier to respect. smiling (though a bit nervously), bobbie shuffles her paws in the dirt and mews, "i did - i'm still getting the hang of climbing, but ground p-prey is easier for now. thank you, fireflypaw."

"you did?" she mews softly in surprise; though it makes sense that fireflypaw must have been a warrior apprentice at some point, it still startles her that he had once hunted for prey instead of herbs. it's logical, of course, that he hadn't been plucked immediately from the nursery into the medicine den, and though his pale stare is a bit unnerving, his intentions seem kind enough. "that makes sense, thinking on i-it. i'm not that good at hunting, though, or really much of anything, " the tabby admits with a quiet sigh before mewing hesitantly, "forget about me - how's it, uh, going in there? i can't imagine this illness is making your job e-easy."

NO LOVE, HOWEVER BRIEF (✿) 𝑰𝑺 𝑾𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑫

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

​