sensitive topics i saw a photo you look joyous &. panic attack

tw for very real depictions of a panic attack! if anyone wishes to lend a paw to chilledgaze, they are allowed. any and all reactions are ic opinions!

a new day dawned within shadowclan territory. the sun had begun to rise, and cats had begun to shift around and begin their hustle bustle. with a melting of the snow, they were all prepared to get some prey. they needed something, anything, to get buy until new leaf. but this wasn't a good start to chilledgaze's day. as they woke up, they immediately felt uneasy. their gaze snapped open as they frantically searched the den with the little bits of sunlight poking through the den's entrance. too stuffy. they tell themself, and without so much of a stretch, they walked out of the den, eyes searching around the camp. there was a lot of cats around. everyone moving in one direction or the other, all of them busy. they... felt off. something felt wrong.

somethings wrong. a voice whispers in their head, and they instinctively look around trying to find the source of their increasing anxiety. they couldn't see anything, which only made the panic worse. there was something wrong. what? what was wrong? what's wrong? what's happening? something's wrong, something's wrong! i can't- what's- s-something- their eyes began to dart around as they took a few frantic steps forward, head twisting in each direction their eyes manage to go. their chest began to heave in and out, body beginning to tremble as their jaw parted to allow shaky breaths to escape their lungs rapidly. c-can't... can't breathe...

their eyes shrunk back as they began to hyperventilate more notably, paw lifting from the ground as if they wanted to step away from their anxiety, but they couldn't move. they were frozen. their jaw trembled as they tried to control their breathing, which only made it worse. they were panicking. they were having a full blown panic attack, and there was nothing they could do to stop it from happening. pl-please... m-mom... i c-cant... can't... no... m-make it- m-make it st-stop... tears formed in the wells of their eyes, as they stood trying to help themself. it was no use. they couldn't do anything like this. h-help...

//tldr: chilledgaze is having a panic attack for an indisernable reason!

[ NOBODY ELSE MATTERS, GIRL ]
 
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    ── He's not fond of the flocking in ShadowClan. He was once, when he was called Roseal and was a loner they eyed with suspicion, wondering if he was a leech from the pine group (funny that he should stay with them in the end). Now, though, there are too many faces he has deliberately avoided learning. Difficult to be a hermit and still a clan warrior, and he hasn't managed a balance between the two. He knows he's little more than a stranger to most of ShadowClan these days, and Rosemire hasn't done much to rectify that. This is one of the first times he hasn't escaped before the bulk of his clanmates have spilled out from their nests into camp, and he navigates with tensely corded shoulders.

    Turns out he doesn't have the worst of it this morning. Rosemire notices the deputy not far from the den entrance, paralyzed like an unfortunate insect folded in a spider's embrace. The horror hollowing their eyes wouldn't be out of place in a web, and Rosemire— he recognizes it, is the thing. After Rubble and Flint and the shadows that dogged him for months, he's lost count of how many times his lungs have shrunken and resisted filling. The problem is that he can't help Chilledgaze the same way.

    "Chilledgaze, it's Rosemire. I'm here to help, all right? It'll be okay." Lowering his voice to what he hopes is a soothing volume, he does his best to shoo away some of the cats nearby to give them space. "Can you do something for me? Can you close your eyes? I'm going to put a little snow on the back of your neck and I'd like you to focus on it." Most of it's melted or melting, but he manages to scrape together enough and gently rest it on their fur. "Tell me what it feels like."

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  • ──── surr'oseal'isme (rosemire; formerly roseal). he/him. reluctantly shadowclan.
    ──── approximately thirty-eight months old; not entirely certain of his own age.
    ──── single & uninterested in any romantic attachments; possibly open for flings.
    ──── tall, scarred albino w/ sharply-peaked ears and a bobbed, scruffy tail (voice).
    ──── ─── currently noticeably thin and haggard. ribs and spine are pronounced.​
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[ cw brief mentions of death ]

Roosterstrut had gone head-to-head with a fair share of stresses and fits of panic throughout his life. Anxiety was an ugly thing; sometimes it felt like it was a beast constantly lurking behind you, groaning and growling though never quite choosing to strike. Sometimes you don't even notice it's there until it emerges from the shadows and charges. Either way, it was there, and while you could avert your gaze and distract yourself the best you could, being alone with your thoughts could make things much worse.

At first glance, Roosterstrut was a young warrior with little life experience and a whole journey ahead of him. What could he possibly get anxious about? Unfortunately, his father's untimely death at a young age left a damning mark on him. Images of fox teeth and blood and the lifeless eyes of his parent haunted him even when he wasn't asleep, like a neverending nightmare. As time went on, he tried not to think about it so much, as he knew it would only cause him to be more upset and frantic.

Thus, he tended to be empathetic towards those struggling with their emotions, their mental well-being. It was not easy to maintain your emotional wellness, especially in an unforgiving time like leaf-bare. Rooster certainly tried his best to keep things upbeat and positive, but he couldn't deny how difficult it was when his paws were frozen and his stomach was empty.

The young warrior had noticed Chilledgaze acting strange; not bossing anyone around or telling them to get off their asses, but instead... trembling, breathing quickly, clenching their jaw. A frown appears on his maw and while he doesn't immediately know how to handle the situation, he feels useless just standing there. However, just as he was about to approach the deputy, Rosemire stepped in to try and help. He lifts a paw tentatively, though ultimately remains planted to the ground and observing from a distance away. Was Chilledgaze alright?



  • ROOSTERSTRUT
    —— amab, uses he/him pronouns. sixteen moons old. warrior of shadowclan.
    —— laid-back young adult who utilizes humor and fun in order to distract from serious matters. he is a decent warrior, though he hesitates to take risks.
    —— link to tags. @ on discord for plots.

    roosterstrut is a vibrant orange tabby tom with pale green eyes. he stands at a height ever so slightly above the average. his fur is long and whispy and his tail is especially reminiscent of a rooster's. he sports a signature, goofy smirk and a mischievous glint in his eye.


 


Smogmaw steps out of the warrior's den, his jaws jimmied open from a mighty yawn. Sleepiness sticks to his face like mud, and though he can make out the profiles of a couple of his clanmates, the tabby cannot interpret the ongoing situation until his vision adjusts to the sunlight. Last night's slumber came as unusually deep—no jerking awake, nor any other interruptions to speak of. Just pure, serene shut-eye. Truth be told, every night since his little dinner date has been similar in that regard; it's quite funny how sound sleep and a sound state of mind went paw-in-paw. As sound as it gets for Smogmaw, at least.

The lack of movement among his clanmates' outlines is the initial indication of something wrong. He groans, expelling the remnants of bedtime from his throat, and squinting so as to straighten out what's going on. Blurred contours would coalesce into the physical forms of Rosemire, Roosterstrut, and an incredibly overwrought Chilledgaze, the last of whom looking like a fish out of water. There's not a drop of comfort in the deputy's expression, who stood upon legs rooted to the mucky ground. Whatever's wrong with them is all internal, and given the facts before him, all Smogmaw can vocalise at the moment is a passing "Huh".

Both of the other toms present keep the inkspill feline under close scrutiny, with the older of which becoming directly involved in ensuring Chilledgaze's wellbeing. It's all for naught, he would warn the alabaster tom if the ruling class here wasn't so emotionally-driven. With their insomnia, their history of getting into fights, their blatant emotional instability, and no effort to rectify any of those issues, this breakdown has been a long time coming.

"Surprised this hasn't happened sooner," he would scoff, coming up alongside Roosterstrut, "it's about time." The pewter-toned tom did not look at his younger counterpart, instead keeping his vision forward on the distraught deputy. Except he does not observe in a careful manner, comparable to that of his counterparts; he watches, and for the sake of his own amusement more than all else. "Ah, well. What can you do."

// i c o p i n i o n s

 

"Hm." It's a low, quiet noise. Neither positive nor negative. The torbie is not sure what to make of the scene she spies at a distance as she ambles along forward into the camp after a somewhat successful hunting trip. It's nowhere near the gift of food her deer leg had been, but she doubted she would be able to duplicate the discovery and effort a second time as unfortunate as it was; the queens and kits would have to settle for her meager sparrow. The taste of blood and scent of fresh meat in her face the entire trek had been almost too much but Halfshade had retained her composure long enough to begrudingly toss it onto the pile to dispense at a later time.

With Rosemire and Roosterstrut already fussing over the deputy she finds herself sweeping forward to stand next to Smogmaw's other side that the brown tabby does not occupy to quietly observe as well. Had no idea what this was or what to do about it, was it medical? Did it need Starlingheart? Or was this just the sign she'd been curiously waiting for to tell her that it was a good thing she stuck her neck out to save Pitchstar, at least he didn't do whatever this nonsense was. Some kind of meltdown? She'd honestly not seen a cat act like this without good reason, though perhaps stress was reason on its own.
They had warned the deputy before to relax. Warned them countless times to take it easy, to not work themselves into a stupor. Did this to themself honestly. The way this clan was just falling apart on its own merit was embarrassing to say the least.
"At least it was in the camp." She adds on in an almost coo of a tone, echoing Smogmaw's own disinterest in the topic though her expression remains soft and her smile on display. It could have been worse, they could have done this on a border patrol, midhunt, during a fight. Really, it was fortunate timing if anything. "Should I fetch Starlingheart~?"
As unlikely as it was that the young she-cat could even do anything, might as well offer to get her.
 
He gets it, the impending sense of doom that looms at the very corners of your mind. He gets it, overworking yourself for the sake of keeping it away, keeping others safe. He's not close to anyone besides Chilled and by God if he does not keep them safe then he will have failed his very mission- Chilleds on the ground and cats are surrounding them.

What...? Oh. Oh. The anger begins.

He stops with a skid, planting his paws firmly down on the ground and he wants to enclose his jaws around those standing as if their friend were an exhibit, wants to unsheathe his claws and lash out, inflict the pain Chilled feels but they steady themselves with a deep breath. "Get the fuck back and stop gawking. They need space." he growls, lips peeling back for fangs. And he'll drive them away if he has to, crouching besides their friend and his paws are shaking so bad. He wants to bite at Rosemire as well, bring Chilled to the shadows so they can finally rest, but they can't and he knows they wont. This is Chilled's clan.

This is his friend. His only friend.

"Chilled," his voice is softer than before, green eyes wide as they stare. "Hey, hey," fuck, what does he do? He wasn't good at this shit. He usually spent time by himself when he felt like this, his fur prickles, fuck- "I'm not gonna let anything hurt you." a promise, he doesn't know what they're panicking over, can only assume. Eyes look up to Rosemire. "We need to get them somewhere private." Specter can't speak for Chilled but if it were him, they'd want to be in a place familiar. "I'm here. We're here-" he breathes, his own heart pounding, he doesn't like seeing them like this. What does he say? He lets Rosemire take the reigns with the snow. Would that work? He hopes so and so he waits with bated breath, please be okay. I cannot lose you, too.
"speech"​
 

His mentor rushes away, and Eeriepaw has no choice but to follow him.

He doesn't understand the sight before him. Chilledgaze on the ground, crying. Breathing funny. Cats surrounding them. Something is wrong. Why? Hollow eyes stare at the sight, observing the scene quietly. Eeriepaw's never seen anything like it. He needs a better look.

The spindly tom steps forward to investigate, leans close to the deputy's trembling form, to their face. Perhaps it's far too close for comfort, but Eeriepaw doesn't know that. Dark eyes catch sight of the splash of white across the deputy's face and oh, their star spots. Their star spots must be the cause of this.

"Are you dying?" he asks, ears twitching. Magpiekit must be real good with fortunes, if they are. He thinks the kit will be pleased to know this.
 
like flies drawn to a rotting carcass, bodies have already begun to swarm around the clearing in order to spectate the latest happening to occur within these hollowed walls. everyone's attention is drawn to the trembling ebony deputy who appears to be trapped by some unseen force that prevents them from moving from that spot. there is a faint flicker of concern that reflects off veridescent eyes as geckoscreech finds herself joining the bystanders, she's never seen chilledgaze in such a state before and wonders what caused it. perhaps stress? lack of sleep?

cats like rosemire and spectermask are much more quick to act than the rest of them having broke off from the crowd to be at chilled's side where they attempt to gently coax the feline out of their panicked state. eeriepaw is there too but he isn't really helping, honestly he might've just made it worse with his question.

"eeriepaw do not get in their face, you might end up freaking them out more." it's a small warning but the lead warrior doesn't make a move to herd the apprentice away considering most of them had been shooed earlier by the two toms to give chilledgaze better space. honestly, gecko just doesn't want the kid to get smacked if there ends up being a negative reaction.
[ BITTERNESS IS LIKE CANCER; IT EATS UPON THE HOST.]