private GIVE YOU MY ALL // rimekit

[cottonsprig]

Cottonsprig sorts her herbs. It is her default state, moving a stack of dandelions from one corner of the medicine den to the other. It's monotonous and ultimately does nothing but waste time - yet time is all she has. Moss cradles the newborn kitten rather than her mother - the moonlight dapples white and smoke fur and Cottonsprig only affords her distant looks. You're not mine, she tells herself, tells little Rimekit. Not anymore. And so does the dandelion move, each trudging pawstep from the medicine cat punctuated by a pathetic cough from the kitten.

The she-cat turns back to hover over the nest as Rimekit mewls her kittenish mewls, cries her babyish cries. She doesn't notice until a tear splashes against the nest that she, too, is crying. Tears rim her cheeks and spill, and in the quiet of the night, Cottonsprig pleads with all that can hear her. "Get better, little one. Let your lungs heal," she whispers as if the breeze itself will take her words away. The gusts of wind will carry the syllables to the stars above and cure Rimekit of the ailments made present in her too-small body. But she knows better - knows that it is her duty to help the child heal. Life and death are two unevenly weighted scales that look to her for their final judgement.

Cottonsprig climbs into the nest when she's sure no one is looking. She has to stay warm, even despite her fever. The medicine cat finds defenses for all that she must do, all so that her sins may not be uncovered so easily. Her mother cannot be here, and yet - here she is. She drapes her tail around the feeble body of Rimekit, hushing her cries in hopes that she will rest soon. Instead, the child shifts, seeking out a meal in the warmth. It's then where Cottonsprig's heart sinks further and further still. "I..." I can't.

She's done her due diligence. She's given up her right to motherhood and now, she can't even feed her daughter. You're not mine, she forces herself to remember with another tear spilling over her cheek. She feels as if she's being torn from the inside out as she picks herself out of the kitten's nest, trembling as she goes. Cottonsprig makes the issue out to be Celandinepaw's too easily. She picks on the sleeping apprentice, orders her with too stiff yet warbled words to find and wake Bluefrost - for Rimekit is hungry, and they cannot feed her.

In the time waiting, Cottonsprig simply rests her tail beside the child. She cannot rest in the same nest again - she cannot watch her heart tear and shred more and more.

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

• ooc // @rimekit

• ❥ MEDICINAL KNOWLEDGE
  ♥♥♡ WOUNDS ; can confidently stop bleeding and mend lacerations. will often request that you keep your injury clean and wait it out first.
  ♥♥♡ INFECTION ; as a side effect of likely her own doing, very dutiful with technique and treatment shortly thereafter.
  ♥♡♡ ACHES & PAINS ; will defer to a dark tunnel and rest. if pain persists, maybe she will offer something.
  ♥♡♡ BROKEN BONES ; has never dealt with a broken bone. likely will ask that you never move. ever again.
  ♥♥♥ TRAVELING HERBS ; learned well from her previous mentor. will pile even too many remedies to tough the wilderness with.
  ♥♥♥ KITTING ; having kittens of her own and helped several others with their litters, she is very well versed with calming techniques and quelling pain.
  ♥♡♡ POISONS ; she knows what they are... but that isn't enough, isn't it?
  ♥♥♡ ILLNESS ; having worked through two yellowcough bouts, she is confident in her remedies. much else... she's operating on trial and error.
  ⸻ cottonsprig is a dutiful and excitable medicine cat. she enjoys company and loves conversation. she'd rather not have too many curious noses snooping around her den... but who is she to quell curiosity?

• 

  ⸻❥ cottonsprig is the primary medicine cat of windclan. a former princess to the moors, she harbors many guilts for her actions throughout her short life. she has no consistent partner, unwilling to commit and settle, and she is training celandinepaw in medicine.

​

 

[rimekit]

Pitiful cries come in short bursts from the sickly kit, surrounded by moss and not the familiarity of wriggling siblings. Whenever there is a break between coughs she calls for her mother was has seemingly abandoned her. “Mew,” ‘Where are you? Why did you leave me alone?’ Rimekit whimpers to the susurrous breeze - the very same her birth mother speaks to in the hopes Starclan hears her.

“Mmmi,” ‘I’m cold. I’m hungry.’

Her pleas are answered as warmth finally wraps around her, a wreath of comfort and familiarity. Rimekit wiggles closer to Cottonsprig, unaware that this was the flank she spent her first three days nursing from. A grating purr tries to force itself from her tight chest, pain blossoming in her throat. To suckle will ease her discomfort; warm milk will soothe the daggers in her throat. The pale kitten begins to knead against the blue smoke’s belly, sensitive nose prodding for purchase.

She is unsuccessful and soon enough finds herself wanting for food and warmth once more as Cottonsprig leaves her nest. “Meee,” ‘wait, don’t leave me’, Rimekit cries out despite the discomfort it causes her. A cough rattles her chest, interrupting her call for her mother.

‘I’m scared. Come back.’

Only the brush of a tail beside her tells her that she is not truly alone. But it is not enough… in time she will learn that being held at arm’s length will never be enough.​

[ penned by kerms ]​