- Sep 2, 2023
- 190
- 56
- 28
His mentor’s state has only been declining. No matter how much food he brings her—food from the dwindling prey pile, food that could be used to fill the yawning pit that’s opened up in his stomach—she just isn’t improving. The cure for her illness is lungwort, which his mother and sister are off in the mountains retrieving right now. But they can’t be back immediately, and so his mentor must hold out until they return. If they return. He doesn’t like to entertain that idea, but if none of their clanmates return from the journey, then they are dooming their sick clanmates as well as themselves.
Falconpaw prefers not to consider such things. It’s hard enough to sit in camp knowing that his family is out there, but the apprentice is trying not to get lost in what ifs. He has more important things to do than consider hypotheticals—such as feeding his mentor. His catch today is a mouse, a small thing that’s likely not even going to feed her fully, but he’s sure she’ll appreciate it just as she’s appreciated the other prey that he’s brought to her. Not that she’s eaten much, recently; most of what he brings to her only ends up picked at, hardly eaten. She only needs to hold on a while longer, though, and she’s strong. She’ll be okay, he thinks, as he enters Berryheart’s den with his delivery.
She doesn’t lift her head when she spots him coming, which he finds immediately unusual. Even so ill, she’s never failed to acknowledge him, hazy eyes finding his each time she greets him. But today she lies still, and though Falconpaw calls her name twice, she remains without response. She’s dead, he thinks, and promptly brushes away the horrible concept. She wouldn’t have succumbed so suddenly, not with Berryheart keeping an eye on her. Would she? She must be joking. "This isn’t… it’s not funny," he protests weakly, a whine slipping into his tone. He paws at her flank—she’s never been one to joke, not his mentor, she’s all no-nonsense in that gentle way she always has been—but still she doesn’t move. Her flank lies still beneath his paw, warm despite the icy feeling that washes over Falconpaw at the realization. No. No, it can’t be. There’s no way… she can’t be…
"Berryheart!" The healer’s name is shouted before he fully processes what he’s doing, pale paws scrambling backward to press himself against the wall as far from his mentor as he can get. There’s a weakness in his legs, a tremble through his entire body, that betrays his fear—but it’s not needed, given the stricken look on the boy’s face. His mentor, a protective force for so much of his life, reduced to something empty-eyed and crumpled. He feels frozen, blue-green gaze trained on her body.
// tagging @BERRYHEART bc death, but no need to wait! rip npc mentor
Falconpaw prefers not to consider such things. It’s hard enough to sit in camp knowing that his family is out there, but the apprentice is trying not to get lost in what ifs. He has more important things to do than consider hypotheticals—such as feeding his mentor. His catch today is a mouse, a small thing that’s likely not even going to feed her fully, but he’s sure she’ll appreciate it just as she’s appreciated the other prey that he’s brought to her. Not that she’s eaten much, recently; most of what he brings to her only ends up picked at, hardly eaten. She only needs to hold on a while longer, though, and she’s strong. She’ll be okay, he thinks, as he enters Berryheart’s den with his delivery.
She doesn’t lift her head when she spots him coming, which he finds immediately unusual. Even so ill, she’s never failed to acknowledge him, hazy eyes finding his each time she greets him. But today she lies still, and though Falconpaw calls her name twice, she remains without response. She’s dead, he thinks, and promptly brushes away the horrible concept. She wouldn’t have succumbed so suddenly, not with Berryheart keeping an eye on her. Would she? She must be joking. "This isn’t… it’s not funny," he protests weakly, a whine slipping into his tone. He paws at her flank—she’s never been one to joke, not his mentor, she’s all no-nonsense in that gentle way she always has been—but still she doesn’t move. Her flank lies still beneath his paw, warm despite the icy feeling that washes over Falconpaw at the realization. No. No, it can’t be. There’s no way… she can’t be…
"Berryheart!" The healer’s name is shouted before he fully processes what he’s doing, pale paws scrambling backward to press himself against the wall as far from his mentor as he can get. There’s a weakness in his legs, a tremble through his entire body, that betrays his fear—but it’s not needed, given the stricken look on the boy’s face. His mentor, a protective force for so much of his life, reduced to something empty-eyed and crumpled. He feels frozen, blue-green gaze trained on her body.
// tagging @BERRYHEART bc death, but no need to wait! rip npc mentor
[ find me way out there ]
