camp LIVING LIKE DRACULA ⛧ RECOVERY

[Vulturepaw]

˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖ 　They can't stay in the badger sett any longer.

It's not like they enjoyed it, but there is something frightening about leaving before his family does. The illness came quickly for him; it hit hard, and then left. His throat is clear, his mind clearer. He was not left withering like Quietcrow, did not refuse treatment like his dad. Others will need longer to recover, some may never recover at all. He cannot bear the thought that Periwinklebreeze or Bilberrypaw might never leave that dark burrow. He can't stay because he knows if he does, he might die there as well. The ghost of Quietcrow haunts the crumbling peat of the walls.

His family will make it out, because Vulturepaw does not know what he would do with himself if they didn't.

For now, he needs to be brave. It's not something he's ever been very good at - but he thinks of Dimmingsun and Rowanpaw's encouragement, and it feels a little easier. He'll carry on, he'll show them how much braver he's become.

He pads back into camp hesitantly, head down. He doesn't feel particularly confident, but he swallows the nervousness back nonetheless. Slitted pupils dart around camp as of seeing it for the first time. There is no fanfare at his return this time, and that is a relief. "I, um..." He clears his throat, tries to smile. "'M feeling a lot b-better now," he announces quietly.

THERE ARE FLOWERS GROWING ALL AROUND ⛧ A MASSIVE ANIMAL INSIDE OF ME‎

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  "SPEECH"
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  VULTUREPAW ⛧ he / they, apprentice of windclan, seven moons.
  ⭃ a spiky-furred dark tabby with amber eyes.
  ⭃ skittish and dour, with a superstitious sort of pessimism.
  ⭃ micheal x npc, adopted by periwinklebreeze. sibling to dustpaw and bilberrypaw.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

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[dimmingsun]

"Hey, look who's back."

Dimmingsun's voice cuts into the conversation he's been having with a fellow Clanmate, topic forgotten and abandonded for something he deems much more important: the return of the recovered. It has been quite a rodeo with yellowcough... more cats had fallen ill than he could have anticipated, and the days had bled into weeks as he awaited their fate. Surely, there would be more bouncing back than succumbing to the throes of excessive coughs. It is as selfish as it is selfless — he does not want to say goodbye to anyone who resides at the badger set, nor does he want to see defeat on Celandinepaw's face.

Vulturepaw makes his return apparent... and he does so without his father in tow. Dimmingsun tries not to let his concern show too much; Vulturepaw deserves to celebrate this without drawing attention to Periwinklebreeze, especially since he already struggles with keeping themselves separate from one another.

Stars, let them get healthy again. WindClan does not need to lose yet another lead warrior.

He approaches Vulturepaw and looks him over like he's never seen that dark pelt around before. There's even a smile on that maw. How curious. "That's good to hear. Bet you've had enough of all those yucky herbs, huh?"
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[LUNGWORTKIT]

Unknowingly, Lungwortkit's emergence had been nearly in tandem with Vulturepaw's—off by a matter of sunrises. She is still familiarizing herself with the open expanse of the gorse - lined hollow, with the shifting faces of her new Clanmates. Vulturepaw is one of a few that she knows with certainty—through the haziness of her memories of the medicine den, strange foreign things she gathers to her chest like harvested wildflowers, his face is distinct. Peering at her through the medicine's den entrance like a bird's faraway shadow amidst the throes of her deepest sickness, introducing himself before anyone knew exactly how much damage she would do.

The child herself is still blind to the destruction her very survival has wrought. She doesn't bound across camp as the other kits do, hobbled by the burgeoning tightness in her chest. It feels like the dark clouds that promise a storm—not too bad in and of itself, but promising of a future intensity. Lungwortkit doesn't try to hide the whistling of her breath as she pads up to Dimmingsun's side, looking abnormally small next to the gilded warrior. She appears to have grown not at all since she last saw Vulturepaw—physically, at least.

" Hi, Vulture! " she greets in sloping, roughly accented tones. Her voice is prematurely aged by the battle constantly waged in her chest, girlish tones mingling with a strange rasp. Nonetheless, she meets him with as much enthusiasm as Lungwortkit ever shows. It's nice to see a familiar face; ever since she emerged from the depths of the medicine den, the world has been vaguely puzzling. Cats give her a wide berth or shoo her away like a fly, but in the same breath greet Clanmates with smiles and nuzzles. It puzzles her.

" I'm feelin' better too, " she informs him. Appearing comically tiny when flanking Dimmingsun, she nonetheless makes her proclamations with all the authority of a cat far her elder and three times her size. " Wolf let me outta the med den. I live in the nursery now. "

OOC : —

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