The issue began small, irritation blooming, traveling from one eye to the other. It was easily ignorable as she attempted to adjust to a new normal without her fathers. But then the weepiness of her eyes can no longer be blamed on the death of her sister or so easily ignored when the pain prevents her from performing even the simplest of tasks. These tasks prove difficult due to the concerning cloudiness, the blurring of the edges of her periphery. Still, she did nothing, as fear warps her common sense. Tigersting could still see the masked concern (or was it disgust?) on Brackenpaw's face when they awoke, she could imagine from just the sensation that it was an unsettling sight to awake to at the crack of dawn.
At last, after the suggestion by Brackenpaw she may "lose an eyeball" if she did not approach Cottonsprig. The fur along her back bristles as she approaches the medicine den and she casts a sidelong glance to Featherspine before pressing her cheek into his neck quickly, before he could resist the sign of affection. Tigersting grimaces and then presses into the den, head hanging low with shame. Her skin seems to broil beneath her chocolate pelt from a combination of embarrassment, dread, and a fever which began to wrack her body the day prior. "I need you," she whispers, hazy eyes directed upon Cottonsprig. I need you ðir. "There's something wrong with me-" Tufted ears flatten to her skull as she begins to shiver. "-you'll fix it, right?" Tigersting shrinks closer to the smoke she-cat with her russet face contorted with panic. "I'm sorry, I should've come sooner... I know it..."
At last, after the suggestion by Brackenpaw she may "lose an eyeball" if she did not approach Cottonsprig. The fur along her back bristles as she approaches the medicine den and she casts a sidelong glance to Featherspine before pressing her cheek into his neck quickly, before he could resist the sign of affection. Tigersting grimaces and then presses into the den, head hanging low with shame. Her skin seems to broil beneath her chocolate pelt from a combination of embarrassment, dread, and a fever which began to wrack her body the day prior. "I need you," she whispers, hazy eyes directed upon Cottonsprig. I need you ðir. "There's something wrong with me-" Tufted ears flatten to her skull as she begins to shiver. "-you'll fix it, right?" Tigersting shrinks closer to the smoke she-cat with her russet face contorted with panic. "I'm sorry, I should've come sooner... I know it..."
- @cottonsprig
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daughter of & sister to || moor-runner of WINDCLAN || 15 moons || she/her
— chocolate tabby w/ low white, fiercely bright eyes
— a reckless cat with an abrasive personality𖤓𓃮