private GET SOME WATER, MAN — GRAVELSNAP

[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── They have lost warriors recently, and while Venomthroat did not die to yellowcough, it does not change that WindClan is facing a very grave possibility of meeting leafbare weakened. Gravelsnap is not a warrior Wolfsong is especially close to, but they are undoubtedly needed, and he will not deprive Thriftpaw of his mentor. Gravelsnap's fate will not be that of Snailstride's, whose condition may have been remedied as well had they simply sought him out. I should not blame the dead. What happened is behind us now, and they are far removed from suffering.

Wolfsong moves as quickly as he can through the den, snagging a bit of honeycomb between his teeth and taking it to Gravelsnap's nest. He sets it down, careful to keep it on a smooth stone to avoid any sand or plant matter sticking to it. "Eat what you can. It will ease your sore throat."

@GRAVELSNAP​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 38 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
  — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
  — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

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[GRAVELSNAP]

They have been fading in and out of awareness for the past few—days, they think? It could have only been half a day, but their mind is muddled enough under crushing pressure that Gravelsnap cannot accurately tell whether the blinking passage of time is real or not. They recall seeing Peri at least twice since they’ve been ill; or were those just dreams, borne of the fever that’s burning them up from the inside out? They can only hope not. They can only hope that their friend hasn’t abandoned them, hasn’t given up all hope. They know that they will die without treatment, but they can’t bear for Periwinklebreeze to know that, to live every day dreading Gravelsnap’s eventual demise.

They stir when they blink sluggishly, and for a moment their head begins to clear of the fog. Someone stands before them, depositing something onto the rock for them. "Peri-" they gasp, sniffing harshly to cut themself off when they finally get a clear look at the figure before them. It’s no black-pointed warrior. Only Wolfsong. The healer has offered them… something. Food, they think. "What… is it?" They heed the older tom’s suggestion, though, and take a tentative bite. Honey. Their mouth feels awful around the oozing honey, but as it slides down their throat they cannot deny that it soothes a bit of the ache. And it tastes good, they realize. They move to take another bite, but a thought stops them—what good is a bit of comfort, if they are still cursed to die? Blazestar had said it himself: there is no cure. They are too far gone, and this honeycomb should be used for someone who can truly appreciate it, who won’t succumb to this plague. "Give it… to someone who will live," they murmur, allowing their head to flip back onto their paws.​

[ you put the fun into dysfunction ]​

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