private i went in circles somewhere else // med den

[butterflytuft]

// @DAWNGLARE (optional @Fireflypaw )
@Dandelionwish

Butterflytuft sits neatly near the edge of the den, away from the sick but where the medicine cat can still give her a proper checkup. For nearly two quarter-moons she had felt...odd. Not sick, just different. She stares around nervously, eyes flicking to disheveled piles of leaves. She presses close to her mate's side as she explains how she's been feeling, hoping desperately Dawnglare would have an answer for her. "I've been getting tired faster. It isn't like what I've seen of Yellowcough. I'm just fatigued," She explains softly, yellow eyes fluttering back towards the tom who rules this burrow.

A paw scuffs against the ground and briefly she looks to Dandelionwish for reassurance. Once she feels it, she murmurs, "I have to use the dirtplace more, and I need to sit down a lot when I get these sharp pains in my gut, like thorns are pricking my stomach. Other than all that, I feel fine." She is sure it isn't Yellowcough. She does not feel how she sees her clanmates act. She isn't feverish nor is it difficult for her to breathe. She just feels off.​

 

[Dandelionwish]

The moment he had been told she wasn't well he insisted on heading right to Dawnglare, minimal as it was. Dandelionwish wasn't too worried about himself, he'd overcome Yellowcough already so frankly any other sickness would pale in comparison but the idea of Butterflytuft having it even as slim as the chances were set him on edge. Then again he'd been on edge for quite some time now really, warily looking off in the direction of their prisoner and waiting for WindClan's retaliation that still brewed at the back of his mind. He was afraid, but he held it down for his mate's sake and sat next to her in silence with a careful nudge of his nose to the side of her face.
Dawnglare might dislike him, but he would do his job nonetheless and Butterflytuft wouldn't suffer for it. A small rational part of him had an inkling of what illness he might have, his time as WindClan's medicine cat had left him with too much unease and trauma to fully grasp any of his previous teachings to offer much else than soothing words but it still felt oddly familiar; he just couldn't place what.
​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

The look he fixes Dandelionwish with is tired, rather than disdainful, this time. It is a look, nonetheless – one that the tom had seized the moment his pointed face appeared behind one flecked tortoiseshell. Instinct – impulse, maybe. His mind still sings of the crimes from moons and moons ago; of what was once loyalty, but was now… something else. It discomforts the medicine cat, to look away for too long. But his heart does not quicken, and his fur does not bristle. He thinks he’s grown tired of it. Blue eyes blink slow at the words exchanged.

Ever so slightly, he tilts his head in a considering gesture, the spark of recognition not coming so quick. He has seen enough of yellowcough as of late to know that this was not it. Though on that same front, he nearly worries that he’s forgotten the smell of anything else.

The breath he takes must be full, to grant him the will to leave Dandelionwish in but the corner of his vision. It’s completely lost upon him — the look the two exchange. It’s nearly saccharine – and it threatens to gag him with such. It is impossible, impossible, isn’t it? For a look to be affording to one such as him. ( And distantly, he ponders if this was how Blazestar chose to view the likes of him and his betrothed. )

( Because… It was a choice, wasn’t it? )

Such a thought blows cold discomfort across his spine. Dawnglare’s gaze is passive; fogged over, and then… that last thing. He recalls a noise from his former home, the shrill chirp of a twoleg toy that told him to pay attention.

" Ah. " There. The realization. SkyClan has had it’s fair share of queens. Certainly, it has. His gaze pass over the paws of an unwelcome guest – though the mud on them does not track so easily, now. And then, to Butterflytuft. Well, he hopes this was not the case. The timing would be less than ideal. " ...It could be kits. "

OOC 𓆩♡𓆪 9.16.2023 𝘚𝘠𝘕𝘖𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎

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• ( 𝙒𝙃𝙔'𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙎𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂? ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  —— He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  —— Currently 56 moons old. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  

  You may find him kinder to others than is typical, exhausted from the yellowcough blight and heart heavy in a way he has never felt.​

  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

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[butterflytuft]

Butterflytuft presses closer to her mate, round eyes remaining on the medicine cat. It could be kits. Her pelt involuntarily bushes up in shock, whiskers taut. Her gaze is stretching even wider now with every passing heartbeat that this diagnosis is allowed to settle. "K-Kits?!" She exclaims, soft voice shriller than it perhaps has ever been.

Her face swings around to meet Dandelionwish's gaze, to see if his reaction mirrors her own. "We're going to have kits?" Panic and excitement and fear swirls around in her stomach as she thinks about what this might mean for their future. She loves kits; many queens often look to her for babysitting as she is the first to offer. But raising her own kits is an entirely different thing. Still, she can feel the edges of her maw curving up. This is a good thing!​