heart beats fast ♡ sick

[Halfshade]

Another moon left and she will be returning to her duties, the decision to leave the nursery an easy one after the sudden influx of kittens but she's remaining only briefly to make sure things are alright and to give herself a break from her own kits; newly apprenticed. With them gone she can focus on making sure the other queens are fine, watching their litters on occasion to give them a break or in Forestshade's case taking over entirely because that problem child has wandered off once again on patrol. Halfshade has half a mind to cuff her like a disobedient apprentice but everytime they cross paths the tortie is leaving before she gets the chance. Can't go to Chilledstar either, they won't stop their favorite former apprentice from doing this most likely and it's not worth interacting with the leader to even bother complaining. So she's left to watch the three dark little kittens and feeling particularly irritable due to an odd weight that seems to make her wheeze more than not when she breathes in. It was uncomfortable at first, but it had slowly become distracting and after a moment she rises to stand and passes the kitsitting off to Frostbite to head off and seek Starlingheart out. It’s apparent she might be a little under the weather now, the sudden stand made her wobble as though vertigo had offset her balance entirely and her steps lost their light grace in favor of heavy plodding along to the medicine cat den.
“Starl-” She hacks, huffs and hums as her throat burns with the effort to speak, “...Starlingheart, can I bother you? I think I’ve got a nasty cold.”
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
[Ooc]
Meddie tag - @STARLINGHEART .
​

 

[Garlicheart]

She knows there is a sickness spreading through the forest. It has been the topic of quite a few conversations around camp, and it worries her, somewhat. The most dangerous thing she's encountered was a bear. Was sickness just as dangerous? She was bouncing along on her duties, just finishing picking ticks off an elder. She named all of them. She was very proud of herself. Soon, she would catch her first prey with just as much precision, and it will be a glorious day for all. She will be the best hunter in the marsh. Maybe one day she will even bring down Wartstar.....

Now, something new has her attention. Her mother, leaving the nursery with a nasty cough and wheezing. Her ears lower and she frowns, quickly bounding over to her.

"Mama... Are you okay?" She asks. "Did the other kits give you germs???"

Those little rascals....And their germs.....​

 

[Swansong]

————— ☾ —————
I WANNA BE HAUNTED

The anxiety of the recent meeting lingers in the air, the announcement of sickness a grave omen. But sickness isn't too bad, right? Starlingheart knows how to take care of it, so Swanpaw shouldn't worry. Probably. Still, he rushes to Halshade's side when he hears her cough, concern clouding his gaze.

He brushes against her legs, looks to the medicine den."Miss Starlingheart?" He calls, in a rare raising of his quiet voice. He doesn't want his mama's throat to hurt any more, but he needs to make sure Starlingheart comes to help. "Are you there? My mama's got a, uh, 'a nasty cold'..." he repeats dutifully.

Then, softer. "It's okay, mama, you'll feel better soon..." he murmurs, pressing further against her. His smile is wobbly, but that's okay. She'll be alright, Starlingheart will know what to do.

I WANNA BE LOVED !
————— ☾ —————

☾⋆⁺₊⋆ info ; visual

• //
  ​
• SWANKIT named for his pale fur, after his maternal grandmother.
  — he/him. 5 moons.
  — shadowclan apprentice, mentored by sabletuft
  — quiet and dreamy.
  
  penned by saturnid.​
• "SPEECH"
  ​
• 

​

 

[SCREECHSTORM]

Though he hates being stuck in its depths all the time, the nursery keeps Screechkit safe - tucked away from learning what’s really going on in ShadowClan, from missing worried glances at an apprentice’s sneeze, concern over stumbling warriors. Sickness is not a worry for him, while his day is filled with kit games and an urge to explore.

So, when Halfshade suddenly rises from watching him and his siblings and leaves the trio under Frostbite’s watch instead, Screechkit doesn’t understand. He doesn’t get why she stumbles as she gets up, why she walks with heavy steps as she leaves. Did she get hurt? Screechkit doesn’t think they’d been playing anything that would have hurt their caretaker.

He could wait here, could ask when she comes back, but why do that when he can follow her instead? A moment outside, and he wouldn’t have to play with Frostbite’s kits. It sounds like a far better option. The moment Frostbite is looking away, Screechkit bounds off to follow behind Halfshade.

She calls for Starlingheart, coughing louder than he thinks he’s ever heard anyone cough. Going to the medicine den is the right move - she’ll be able to get help, to feel better soon, and come back to play with them before the sun sinks.

Soon, her children show up with a certain look on their faces - one that his mother hasn’t shared with him, but one Briarkit might’ve with a question Garlicpaw shares to Halfshade. Are you okay?

And then another: Did the other kits give you germs?

Screechkit doesn’t really know what this means - except for the fact it must be bad, if Halfshade is asking for Starlingheart. But the kit feels fine in comparison to his caretaker, and frustration only arises at the thought of blame being put on him.

Screechkit didn't hurt Halfshade; he didn't give her anything.

“Hey! I don’t have g-germs!” he protests, a frown pulling on his face as he makes his presence known. An orange-freckled paw stomps against the ground as he looks at Garlicpaw. “Maybe... Maybe you have germs!”
​

 

[smogstar]

Hearsay, sickness. Both spread at a mouth-to-mouth exchange. They are congruent in how they exploit vulnerable bodies and minds, infiltrating one's innermost defenses in the most detrimental of ways.

Whispered words of a flourishing sickness have since loudened to a roar. Every nook, cranny, den, and puddle in the swamp seems to have absorbed this resonance of despair. Smogmaw did not mind when the news had been contained to mere rumours—now, it served as a new reality, and one condoned by most.

How willing his clanmates are to accept fear into their hearts, he fails to understand. Was their faith no longer enough to protect them? Has ShadowClan finally come to scruple over its ability of withstanding adversity? To both questions, the answer lies in the negative, and the deputy stands confident in this understanding. But, it is a symptom of fear to falter in the face of uncertainty, and the implications of such are a far more grave concern than any illness. They all must keep firm heads on their shoulders, lest they all fall to a darkness that threatens their bodies as well as their minds.

He stands vigil. Semi-lidded eyes leave no stone unturned and not a mud puddle unexamined. At the emergence of his mate from the opposite end of camp, the entirety of his focus is seized at once. That she makes straight for Starlingheart's den, summoning the medicine cat with words ruptured by coughs, it raises immediate alarm in the depths of his chest. Memories of Pitchstar's infection ensnare his mind, then. Tottery steps, breaths shallow and insecure, and light faded from the eyes. Halfshade is not well. She is not well at all.

Coaxed forward by both responsibility and the spiritual attachment he has with the molly, Smogmaw halts himself a safe distance out of his beloved's reach. "Please, kits, give her some distance," he says to them all, a notable dreariness tugging at his words. To separate daughter and son from mother is a daunting enough task, but worse when done at the behest of their own safety. Screechkit, for all he cared, could scurry back to whatever rat-hole she crawled out of.

"You'll be taken care of," Smogmaw continues, sullen eyes now trained upon the queen alone. "Anything you need, if Starlingheart cannot provide it, I will make it so." Patrols for herbs, or gathering them himself, and standing guard if need be.

He must'nt theorise about her condition, nor worry himself beyond measure. Such would be dipping his paws into the pools of dread, and wouldn't serve anyone. But long has he yearned to be at her side since she'd come to roost in the nursery, and now, he must call ever doing so again into question. How unnaturally heavy his heart is. ​

 

[Starlingheart]

Hearing a cat as mighty as Halfshade sound so frail makes her pelt prickle with unease. She looks up from the darkness of her den at the bi-colored she cats face and she nods. "Stay back here kits" she instructs her children with a slightly stern voice. The idea that this could be the sickness SkyClan spoke of weighs heavy in her mind and she does not want her kits to catch even the sniffles if its possible. She makes her way towards her patient, acknowledging Smogmaw with only a furtive glance. She can hear the rasp in her throat when she speaks and already she is turning to reach for her honey. "It's- It's no bother at all" she tells her, but she isn't able to hide the concern from the edges of her voice, nor is she able to hide the way her paw slightly shakes when she raises it upwards to snag the leaf that conceals the golden liquid. Still, she says nothing, only pushes the honey towards her friend. "Have uh have some of this- it'll help with your throat" her heart goes out to her children, who beg the medicine cat to help their mother but silently she has to wonder, do they think she wouldn't? She was better than Bonejaw she thinks. She had never denied treatment to a patient before (though she had admittedly thought about it after that ThunderClanner had thrown a fit)

"After you're done eat-eating that, tell me yuh-your other- your other sym-symptoms" she instructs as she reaches for some feverfew, which she is sure will be needed.

​

 

[lilacfur]

After the Gathering occurred and Blazestar had announced the spawn of this incurable sickness, Lilacfur had turned to her faith in StarClan to keep her home protected. ShadowClan had been through too much and only just entered a time of peace after what felt like moons of one devastation after the other. For the time being her prayers had been answered; neither she or Skunktail had come down with any symptoms. As far as she was aware her sister was safe, though knowing treating any sick cats could in turn infect her and her niblings scared her.

She's been doing this for a long time. Longer than most medicine cats her age. She reminded herself for reassurance, bitterly disregarding her aunts abandonment.

"Garlicpaw, Swanpaw, let's go find some soft moss, yeah? So your mama can sleep in a fresh nest and feel better." She regarded Smogmaw neutrally with a short dip of her chin in her attempt to help. ​

[ sad hello's and mad high low's ]​