- Jan 28, 2024
- 70
- 13
- 8
CW — mentions of vomiting throughout
ꕀꕀ He wakes with a start, and with what feels like a lungful of water expelled from his mouth. For a moment it's all he can do to flip onto his front and hold his mouth open, allowing it to spill from him in a flood that rivals the waters swallowing RiverClan's camp. He hardly breathes through it all, until finally it stops coming, and he's left with a sore throat and lungs straining to take in enough air. His head is pounding, his heart racing, and his limbs feel like they've all been broken and reset wrong. They can barely support his weight as he drags himself to his feet, wobbling and unsteady.
"Whuh… huh," he coughs out—chokes on the words, for a moment. A mixture of river-water and saliva dribbles from the corner of his mouth, undignified and pathetic. Just like me, he thinks, mind muddled and jumbled. Do his clanmates even notice that he's gone? Surely not. His parents probably cheer even now, glad that the blight upon their past was washed away by the rushing waters at long last. Cicadaflight… why is he thinking about Cicadaflight? Floodwater threads its way through his head, pools in his ears, seeps out in wet trails from his remaining eye. He scrubs a sopping wet paw against his face, wiping away the tears that mix with river water. No one will care that he's gone, so he needs to… he needs to do something. If only his mind didn't feel like it was still underwater.
His head lolls on his shoulders, and Sandpelt manages to get a good look at the area he's washed up in. Smooth, flattened rocks surround him. The name of the landmark comes to him after a too-long pause. Sunningrocks. ThunderClan territory. "Ughh… shittin' stars," he groans, his vision tilting awkwardly as he sinks back to his stomach. Cold river water still clings to his silky fur, dripping onto the stone below him, but the rocks are so warm… He presses himself closer to them, allowing the strength to seep from his tired, tired legs. He could take a nap, but it's probably better to stay awake. He can't swim back across like this, so he's stuck waiting for a patrol to pass by—if they even bother to search for him. Maybe a ThunderClan patrol will pass by first, and he'll get the chance to explain himself before they attack.
ꕀꕀ He wakes with a start, and with what feels like a lungful of water expelled from his mouth. For a moment it's all he can do to flip onto his front and hold his mouth open, allowing it to spill from him in a flood that rivals the waters swallowing RiverClan's camp. He hardly breathes through it all, until finally it stops coming, and he's left with a sore throat and lungs straining to take in enough air. His head is pounding, his heart racing, and his limbs feel like they've all been broken and reset wrong. They can barely support his weight as he drags himself to his feet, wobbling and unsteady.
"Whuh… huh," he coughs out—chokes on the words, for a moment. A mixture of river-water and saliva dribbles from the corner of his mouth, undignified and pathetic. Just like me, he thinks, mind muddled and jumbled. Do his clanmates even notice that he's gone? Surely not. His parents probably cheer even now, glad that the blight upon their past was washed away by the rushing waters at long last. Cicadaflight… why is he thinking about Cicadaflight? Floodwater threads its way through his head, pools in his ears, seeps out in wet trails from his remaining eye. He scrubs a sopping wet paw against his face, wiping away the tears that mix with river water. No one will care that he's gone, so he needs to… he needs to do something. If only his mind didn't feel like it was still underwater.
His head lolls on his shoulders, and Sandpelt manages to get a good look at the area he's washed up in. Smooth, flattened rocks surround him. The name of the landmark comes to him after a too-long pause. Sunningrocks. ThunderClan territory. "Ughh… shittin' stars," he groans, his vision tilting awkwardly as he sinks back to his stomach. Cold river water still clings to his silky fur, dripping onto the stone below him, but the rocks are so warm… He presses himself closer to them, allowing the strength to seep from his tired, tired legs. He could take a nap, but it's probably better to stay awake. He can't swim back across like this, so he's stuck waiting for a patrol to pass by—if they even bother to search for him. Maybe a ThunderClan patrol will pass by first, and he'll get the chance to explain himself before they attack.
