FAKE IT IF YOU HAVE TO [ 𓆣 ] RECOVERY & RTA

[TERMITEHUM]

( 𓆣 )　 The sickness came late for Termitehum; once the journeying cats had already left, once the cure had run dry. Still, it crept its way into her bones. Plegmy coughs wracked her brittle form, filmy eyes even more fearful than usual. The rot dug its claws in, pulling them not towards the stars but the earth below, at home with the rest of the termites.

They'd been certain they were going to die. That the journeying cats wouldn't return in time, that they'd been condemned to death for the crime of never having lived at all. Some of it was delrium, perhaps, but the feeling lingers, even as the phantom taste of lungwort remains bitter on their tongue.

Termitehum emerges from the medicine den cautiously, hunched and tense, making herself as small as possible. Her voice comes in its usual stuttering insect-hum, a staccato evening-song in uncertain tones. "'M feeh- fffh- fee- eeling much, mm, much better now," Termitehum announces to no one in particular, a dispelling of some horrible gaze she fears is always looking for her, judgemental and fiery. Overgrown apprentice who barely passed her warrior ceremony several moons too late, scared of the trees and the sky and the cats around her. Everyone knows it -- the least it can do is prove its use now.

Emerging from the medicine den feels exposing, leaving the safety of the tangled branches for the open camp. She continues quickly in her chittering mumble, eyes turned timidly towards the ground. "Re- ready to do- to be, mm, be a wh - warrior again." They're not, really -- never was in the first place. But she's willing to try, at least.

GET TO KNOW ME 𓆣 YOU CAN TAKE IT RIGHT BACK !【 11.13.23 】

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• "SPEECH"

• ⁺　₊ 　⋆　✩ TERMITEHUM. SKYCLAN WARRIOR.　SHE / THEY / IT.
  18 MOONS & AGES ON THE 1ST.　PENNED BY SATURNID.
  
  

  

  ➳ A WILLOWY BLACK CAT WITH WHITE PATCHES AND INTENSE ORANGE EYES.

  
  DRAGONFLYWING xx EARWIGTUFT. SISTER TO CHRYSALISWING.
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[CHRYSALISWING]

Charcoal-set eyes stared upon the feline who so resembled their father, as though damned to bear the festering wound of a mark, a sheepskin of a shadow-sunken coyote. It must have been its curse, to be the child of the man known as Dragonflywing. Termitehum was nothing like her progenitor, which Chrysaliswing found quite ironic. They were timid, meek, like a tremble-winged moth that shied away even from the molten lamplight. Being a weak-willed and weaker-minded feline was better than being their dad - anything was, really. And still, despite the night-pitched tones that the two shared, Chrys hardly found any continuity with Termite. They were so different despite being from the same little, as though branches that had diverged and divulged their heads from each other, prideful beasts who stared at differing skies.

She had been sick, and yet Chrysaliswing hardly visited. He couldn't bear to. He heard them among the wretched chorus of yellowcough's wake, like a singing swarm of locusts overcast upon the harvest of Skyclan, and it had joined their uncritical and indiscriminate ranks. It was a refrain that he refrained from hearing - at least, willingly. The song of pestilence still strung at sensitive ears, even when he wished to find some respite in slumber. It was over now, but it had only been days since. One did not forget the melody of sickness that wracked even those who strayed away from its gluttonous touch.

"Don't exert yourself too much. You'll make a total idiot out of yourself, not that that's hard for you." A serpent's tongue flayed its victims in a lexical blade, just as it had always been, though this time it was different. Not marred nor splayed by any softness, though it was a certain language of kindness that he only knew how to speak. It was the language of kindness mumbled from the rapids to the shore, whispered from the wildfire to the forest, and hummed from the storm to the sawgrass. He approached Termitehum, though kept his distance. Despite it being his sibling, he still detested it, though he had naught the words to string it out for her.​

 

[Fireflyglow]

The plague had ruined many things for a lot of cats; plans, lives, and much more. Fireflypaw had learned a lot during the time Dawnglare had been ill with Yellowcough, and even before then he'd learned so much. It was like the tell-tale wheezing breaths had become second nature to him, a specialty he'd taken up since he'd survived it himself. Proof that Mother favored him, that Dawnglare was right- he couldn't get sick and die, not anymore. Blind blue eyes follow the sound of Termitehum's leaving of his den, the medicine cat apprentice lifting his head from his paws to listen for the sound of creaky wheezing- but none comes from the warrior. Instead, they speak- a good sign, in his books.

He rises to his paws then, following the dark warrior out of the medicine den to sit outside of it and listen to the others welcome Termitehum back to duty. He blinks then, Chrysaliswing's words odd to his ears. This must be his own way of showing that he cares, though Fireflypaw can't help but think.. What was it like, having Chrysaliswing as a sibling? Howlfire was nothing like the tom, she was kind and happy and upbeat, especially now that she had her own litter of kits to care for.

"Take it easy, okay, Termitehum?" He meows, assured in his job well-done. He'd cured the cats of the Clan, but he couldn't save everyone. Not from nature, and not from Mother herself- when it was time to go, it was time to go. Delaying the inevitable was useless. ​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 15 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[Drizzlepelt]

Drizzlepelt is forever grateful to StarClan for the fact that he never caught Yellowcough as it ravaged through all the clans. Part of him expected for the plague to catch up to him, tearing through his small frame. But, he was spared all the same. SkyClan surely was hit the hardest, so it’s helped him to think that his actions have truly helped the clan. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it to him, but his thoughts truly love to torture him.

Seeing another healed patient in Termitehum makes him breathe out a relieved sigh, even if she’s not back to full health just yet. It’s nice to see both her brother and Fireflypaw fuss over her, at the very least. Even if it’s backhanded from Chrysaliswing… He takes note of her body language, and lets his own tension settle so he doesn’t appear too intimidating to her. “I’m glad you’re feeling better! Welcome back.”​