camp hold on tight [ ☾ ] sick

[Swansong]

————— ☾ —————
I WANNA BE HAUNTED

Swanpaw is staring at a lizard when he has the realization. He's been staring at it for a while, in fact. He doesn't want to eat it, hasn't wanted to eat anything lately - he never had a big appetite to begin with, but now he has lost it altogether. It's strange but he hadn't thought much of it. He's working harder than he ever has, shadowing his mentor dutifully, so maybe he's just too tired to be hungry. Is that possible? To lose your appetite due to exhaustion? No, he thinks it's supposed to be the opposite.

Regardless. He can't breathe. That is new. There's a constriction, a pain, like his body no longer understands how to breathe right. Perhaps it is the illness, a more rational part of his brain supplies, but he has never known illness. He would not expect it to feel like this, like his chest closing in. This must be something worse.

Swanpaw's announcement is soft: "I think that I am dying," It is matter of fact, with a sad sort of detachment like one might announce a lost catch. All the signs point to the same thing; wasting away without food, unable to breathe... Not breathing is the key symptom of death, he knows. Sad eyes turn to whoever is nearest. "Tell Starlingheart... Maybe it's not too late..." It's optimistic. His words are grave. Ah, but he knew this day was coming... He just didn't think it would be so soon.

I WANNA BE LOVED !
————— ☾ —————

☾⋆⁺₊⋆ info ; visual

• // meddie tags @STARLINGHEART @Magpiepaw but no need to wait!! he's not actually dying, just sick and dramatic <3
  ​
• 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"
  ​
• 

​

 

[APPLEJAW]

Applepaw and her siblings have seen monsters. Real, actual monsters up - close. She hadn't thought sickness was anything to be afraid of. Halfshade was sick. Halfshade was the strongest cat she knew. A monster didn't kill her, so how could a sickness possibly do anything but make her tired for a few days? Applepaw was not worried.

But then, at the gathering – one of the kittypets, dead. Applepaw had blinked in surprise Maybe she could chalk it up to weak, kittypet bodies, buckling over at the first hint of a cold. Starlingheart didn't worry like that was all it was though. Maybe she's worried. Maybe she's scared, just a little.

And it's the worst type of scared to be, because it was something she could not fight with teeth and claws even if she trained for all her life. It could only be fought with medicine. And though for moons now, Applepaw has imagined being the best warrior ShadowClan as ever seen, she wishes she were a Medicine Cat, in this moment.

Swanpaw is being weird. He's always being weird, though.

And then, I think that I am dying. Applepaw jolts beside him. For once, she is at a loss for words, even stumbling on the what? she nearly utters. Tell Starlingheart... Maybe it's not too late... " Wh – Of c-course its not, " Why did he already sound like he was ready to die? A part of her thinks this must be some eleberate joke, for she's not as tuned in to the harshness of his breathing, or any reason for his staring aside from Swanpaw. If it hadn't been her family, Applepaw probably wouldn't listen. She stands to her paws. " I'm getting Magpiepaw. ... and Starlingheart. " Her paws carry her there in a flurry.

ooc ༊ 𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂

• ooc: fetching starl and magpie!
  

• 

• ( I'M OBSESSED WITH THE MESS THAT'S AMERICA. ) APPLEPAW. kit of shadowclan. eldest sister to swankit, valeriankit, and garlickit.
  —— she / her; confused by the use of others
  —— currently 5 moons old as of 9.3.23. ages every 17th.
  
  longhaired blue torbie with a white chest, paws, and underbelly. A young cat you would describe as " bossy, " Applekit is quick to take charge of any situation she sees herself as the probable head of. A rule - follower to a T, and thinks herself better than the majority of her clan for this. Not ignorant enough to think herself above a warrior, but seeks to gain that status as quickly as possible. Intensely self - motivated to be the best in a mixture of blind, childish desire, and never wanting to be afraid of anything ever again.

​

 

[Wheattail]

The wanderer had watched for weeks as this sickness spread throughout the forest. Its symptoms were obvious: a loss of appetite, difficulty breathing, delirium…

And fear.

Although Wheatpaw had remained healthy for the duration of the crisis so far, she had certainly contracted that last symptom. It had fallen thick over Shadowclan like a wool blanket on a hot summer night, and now everyone was trying to ignore the heat. Perhaps it was time to leave? The Somali lookalike was set on abandoning Shadowclan to return home eventually, but hadn’t expected something like this to force her out so soon.

She’d always tried to keep some distance between herself and those who called her a clanmate (with a few exceptions), in the hope that her leaving wouldn’t be too hard on them. But with the advent of this plague, that distance had become physical as well as metaphorical.

Autumn paws tapped nervously against the ground as Swanpaw makes his macabre announcement. “Another one?” Amber eyes flick towards the medicine den, warbling. “How much worse are things going to get?” Seeing her peer’s plight, though, Wheatpaw makes no move to go to his aid, too petrified to do anything but provide moral support from afar. “I-I am sure you are just overreacting” Wheatpaw says from a few fox-lengths away, stumbling over her words for the first time in what felt like ages in a poor attempt to sound encouraging. “Just wait for Applepaw to return with the medicine cats. You will be just fine, I promise.” ​

 

[COMFREYPAW]

“I think I’m dying,” Swanpaw says, his voice soft but affirmative. Comfreypaw is starting to think everyone who gets sick is dying, and when she thinks of her mother—her littermates, Applepaw—lying cold and still in their nests, her chest constricts. She brushes against her friend now, whose voice has an uncharacteristic tremble as she watches her brother cough. “You’ll be just fine,” she assures her denmate with a bright voice. She hopes she sounds more confident than she feels. “Starlingheart is a wonderful medicine cat! You won’t be sick for long at all!”

She turns a sympathetic eye to Wheatpaw’s ginger form. Is she regretting coming to the marshes, to ShadowClan? Is she wishing she’d kept her paws wandering far from where they now sicken and die? “Everything will be okay,” she parrots herself, this time to both Wheatpaw and anyone else listening.

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — comfreykit . comfreypaw
  — she/her, apprentice of shadowclan
  — bisexual ; single
  — short-haired charcoal tabby with amber eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — art by Meadowllark

​

 

[Garlicheart]

Halfshade getting sick worried her, she's heard the whispers of how terrible this illness is plenty of times and the number of patients Starlingheart has to care for is steadily growing. She's been working hard, especially with hunting. She's lacking in it, and it stresses her out. How can she help her mother get better if she can't catch prey for her or the rest of the clan? She must get better. She has to try harder. She isn't as perfect as Applepaw, but she can try!!

Her heart sinks as she hears Swanpaw mention he is dying. Was he sick now too?? She pads over to him and immediately hears his breathing, can see it on his face that he is not well. Her ears fall and her tail droops, her eyes flooded with worry.

"Swanny.... You're not dying, okay?" She says. "Starlingheart is the best medicine cat!" She chirps, agreeing with Comfreypaw. "She'll make sure everyone is okay."

She's not ready to lose anyone yet. Her family has to stay right HERE. Right with her. They can't die yet. They survived bears, surely they can survive this, right?​

 

[Magpiepaw]

Applepaw looks like her mother but is shaped more like Smogmaw really, rounder facial features and an expression most often set into some kind of frown but the grimace on her maw is a little more understandable as she steps into the medicine cat den and explains that Swanpaw is sick.
Magpiepaw turns from where he was cleaning out bedding for a new and fresher nest, his paws ceasing their kneading upon the moss and his pupils blowing up to discs in alarm. The words 'another one' cross his mind and he can not help but exhale loudly in an almost dismissive manner.

Like mother like son, he supposes. It was not surprising to find one of Halfshade's children would be joining her in the medicine cat den at this point. The close proximity probably contaminated several cats who had yet to show symptoms. Without pause he was strugging forward on his teetering walk, "Take me there.", to check and see if this was anything like the others. With hope it might be a simple cold, but he doubted they would be spared so easily. The entirety of ShadowClan would be swimming in its own sick in time if they didn't figure something out.
Upon reaching Swanpaw he raised a paw and shoved it up to his nose without warning to block it, "Breath through your mouth." He wanted to hear it, the rattle, the tremble of air fighting to escape. "Do you feel dizzy at all?"
He wondered if Starlingheart had anymore herbs stashed somewhere in secret, but he doubted it.
​

 

[Swansong]

————— ☾ —————
I WANNA BE HAUNTED

Swanpaw didn't mean to startle his sister. She seems shocked, but more than that... Is she scared? Huh. Applepaw, scared. Yes, there, the stutter in her words. He stares for a moment, not quite registering her words, before giving her a smile that he hopes is reassuring. But she's off before he can speak again, and his expression falls once more.

Applepaw's defiant reassurance is soon joined by a chorus of others. Wheatpaw, keeping her distance, voice betraying the shallowness of her words. Comfreypaw, her facsimile of cheer far more well crafted, but still cracked. And Garlicpaw, voice optimistic, but he knows her and can recognize the look in her eyes gives her away. Still, her nickname for him brings a warmth into his tight chest. Unease hangs in the air, words of comfort tainted by uncertainty. He casts droopy eyes across the three of them, giving an unconvinced hum. "Ah... Maybe you're right..." he concedes half-heartedly, speaking to none of them in particular.

Starlingheart is a good medicine cat, but it is not Starlingheart who comes to him first. No, it is Magpiepaw, a creature marked by a wise sort of strangeness, and an altogether fitting psychopomp for his impending demise.

Swanpaw follows his instruction readily. The breath leaves his chest in a choked exhalation, a gasping wheeze, death-rattle on display for all to hear. The prognosis is clear, he doesn't disrespect Magpiepaw's expertise by saying it. Another shaky inhale, another shaky exhale. "It's... bad, yes...?" His eyes lock to Magpiepaw's, and a little smile crosses his face, wobbly and worried.

He pauses for a moment before speaking again, with another wheezing exhale, his eyes flicking away. "Dizziness... Mm, a little... My head feels... fuzzy," he murmurs. The speaking strains his throat, so he quiets, waiting.

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"
  ​
• 

​

 

[Magpiepaw]

A rattle, the soul attempting to escape. They had another cat plagued with this sickness and his expression tightens but does not betray his thoughts. Magpiepaw remains stalwart and silent for a moment, paw lowering back to the ground and posture straightening as he considers his phrasing.
"Come to the den then. You may share a nest with your mother." Saves space and also perhaps the company would help ease both of their weariness.
Sabletuft will have to find himself another apprentice for the time being and the young healer wastes no time in turning and beginning his teetering slow dance of a walk back to the den, pausing only to glance back and ensure his paitent had not tipped over or faltered in his own path. Upon arriving back he raises his voice into a shrill song, "Starlingheart, Swanpaw is also sick..."
They had yet to figure out how to stop it, but surely something would give eventually. Surely they would find a means to put an end to this mucus filled nightmare.
At the back of the den in her own tucked away nest, Halfshade raised her head in alarm and with mismatched eyes wide regarded her sickly child with horror and fear, "Swanpaw, darling, come here..." If he was already sick then there was nothing to be done, but at the very least this was one of her kits she could still dote upon in the meantime and comfort.
​