pafp MAGIC MOMENT 𓇼 MEDICINE DEN


shellkit couldn’t remember when she first lifted off of her soft kit belly and staggered upright onto her paws, her first steps a memory shrouded too deep in early childhood. it must not have been too difficult for her then, she thinks ; she would have remembered this if it were. time and sickness thin what little fat she’d retained into juts and edges of velvet - doused bone, trembling limbs reed thin from a distinct lack of appetite during greencough’s brutal hold. it takes work, being able to move as she used to — practice. starclan knew she would remember it this time, the awkward stumble alongside bubblepaw as she guides her in small loops about the medicine den. it would be embarrassing if the molly weren’t so joyous ; ever alight with joy, face creased with a smile that eases the cold loneliness her sickness had wrought. she’s giggling as she steps now, able to take more weight when distracted by the older she-cat, not so nervous about toppling into the dirt when she gets to spend her time with an apprentice.

that would be her one day. a dream reimagined.

she speaks in whispers and gentle waves, a voice still hoarse and healing in her chest when she offers a wobbling, ” — and this morning mosquitobelly said i looked, um. like a fawn. she remembers hearing that, once ; fawn. a mystifying word for an equally mystifying creature, hard to picture without having encountered any creature other than feline. short furred and dappled along thin, sleek flanks — big, wet eyes and paws like black flint.. with long, long wobbly legs. shellkit had at least one of those things down, ” that’s what a baby deer is called. “ the apparition of a smile ghosts pale lips, a glint to bloodlet eyes that sway pallidly upwards towards bubblepaw. an apprentice, moons of traversing riverclan’s rolling meadows in her experience now ; magnificent. amazing. in reach now, as death so narrowly alludes her. a world formerly thought out of reach wrought back by desperate, fighting claws. she couldn’t wait, ” have you ever seen a, oh — “ she runs out of breath.

her head swims, lungs not quite at full capacity yet in her slow, restful recovery. the lilac ribboned girl releases a shuddering sigh outward, aiming to lean fully on bubblepaw’s flank for a moment, bowing her head to flounder a few merciful moments. the catmint moonbeam had fed her widened that pinhole in her throat, lets life flood into her once again, chest still rattling but not erupting into fits of awful, wet hacking. it took time, as much as shellkit wanted to rush — to run and leap from her herb - bound confinements early. she thanks her stars for how quick the fever receded, how moonbeam’s catmint had cleared the clog in her lungs.. even when her tail thumps the floor with a rough, annoyed, ” bet i’m lots noisier than one, though. “ and itd take forever to get her name like this, wouldn’t it?

78127991_CB8CUpPRXAUSuLM.png
  • i. please wait for @bubblepaw < 3

  • 75178334_B2nz6qRU6QTC3MQ.png

  • SHELLKIT 𓆉 SHE / HER, KITTEN OF RIVERCLAN. HAZECLOUD xx LICHENTAIL, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. SIX MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. PENNED BY ANTLERS -------------------------------------------- ° ❀ ⋆
    frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes.
    78128298_wohFIHxKbNARetE.png
    she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore and plush in a way seemingly similar to hazecloud's. tufted elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined rheumy, rosen amber. the anemic cold pink - purple at tender paws and nose tell a lifetime of sickness, further made obvious by the feathering weakness in half - whispered tones.
    currently HIGHLY INFECTIOUS WITH WHITECOUGH. this includes a running nose, wheezing, sluggishness, and labored breathing. please keep contagion in mind.
 

"GOT A LITTLE CASH NOW SO THAT SKIRT IS DIOR"
Bubblepaw's mother had always taught her to count her blessings every night, and to thank StarClan for each one of them. She had never once paused to consider that 'health' is chief amongst them. When Bubblepaw thinks of the medicine cat den she oftenmost thinks of Moonbeam, and she of course thinks of the pretty flowers she has been meaning to bring to the medicine cat in an effort to keep herbs and decorations separate in her mind.

With Shellkit on her mind, though, she is concerned with the young molly's recovery from whitecough. Bubblepaw does not understand sickness, nor who it chooses to infect. And how unfair it is that a sweet and lively soul like Shellkit has fallen so terribly ill. She does, however, pray to StarClan every night for Shellkit in between thanking them for keeping her well and blessing her.

After she's finished the chores that have been assigned to her, Bubblepaw finds herself in the medicine cat den spending time with Shellkit. With an ever-sunshiney expression, Bubblepaw moves around the den with the younger RiverClanner. Though her mind is a bit distant, the silver molly still tries to stay focused on helping Shellkit balance. The unsteadiness of the once-bouncy kit is reasonably concerning, but Bubblepaw does not let it show. There are plenty of other cats to fret and worry about Shellkit.

Shellkit speaks hoarsely. Bubblepaw listens with intention. "A fawn," Bubblepaw echoes, still stepping slowly and steadily beside Shellkit's wavering form. She turns mystified eyes to the silver molly, still smiling even as her question is cut off by her breathlessness. Others might have shied away at signs of Shellkit's stubborn illness in fear that they might too fall ill, but Bubblepaw is steadfast and remains beside her. Shellkit leans alabaster on silver, and the apprentice remains still like a rock to support her.

"I saw a fawn once," she says as Shellkit tries to catch her breath again "They are very small and wobbly, like you right now. But they grow into something beautiful and strong, just like you will." Bubblepaw looks upward as if imagining exactly what the scene looked like. It had been so long ago now, on the very precipice of green-leaf turning to leaf-fall. Those with her had remarked that it was an odd sight; that most often the does and fawns are seen together during new-leaf so that their offspring can grow safely before leaf-bare. It's a memory she thinks of fondly, in the same way she thinks fondly of Shellkit now.

Fawn is a good way to describe the frail little kitten.

Shellkit thumps her tail on the ground, and Bubblepaw snaps her gaze back downward. She's clearly frustrated by her condition, but she still manages to make a lighthearted comment. "Oh, I don't know," she smiles "Lots of baby animals are super loud." A sympathetic air of dismay comes over Bubblepaw, and she nudges the kit. "Do you want to take a little break from your walk?" she prompts without sounding too much like she feels sorry for Shellkit, knowing that it might only add to her frustration. Circles in the medicine cat den aren't much of a walk either though, but Bubblepaw has to wonder if Shellkit might fancy doing something else like listening to a story or making decorations.

✦ ★ ✦
 
  • Love
Reactions: antlers
Troutsnout had been stopping by the medicine den to check on Moonpaw needed help with anything inside or outside of the den, and she catches Bubblepaw and Shellkit doing circles in the den. It was good habit for Shellkit to get into especially with such a frail body, and she had grown to adore the young child (especially after spending time with her when she was sick as well). An raised eyebrow comes from the warrior as she overhears the conversation between the two, and offers a soft smile as she comes in. “Sorry for interrupting.” She coos softly, her ears giving a flick.

They talk about fawns and Shellkit attempts to explain the story Mosquitobelly told her, but exasperation catches her and she has to lean against Bubblepaw's flank. “Are you okay, Shellkit? Do you need me to get you anything?” Troutsnout would inquire softly, chambray gaze flicking with empathy and worry for the child. A feathered and plumed tail sways side to side as the child stabilizes, and seems well after catching her breath and a quiet sigh of relief leaves her lips. She was fine, it was nothing bad besides catching her breath.

Bubblepaw explains on how fawns eventually grow into deers where they're no longer frail or pitiful, but powerful and beautiful parts of nature. The same goes for Shellkit, and she knows that the child will be blessed in the future. “She's right, Shellkit. They might seem weak and frail at first, they grow into something beautiful and powerful.” She coos softly as her words were similar to Bubblepaw and she offers a soft smile towards the apprentice and kit. “Maybe sometime this newleaf, we'll spot a fawn and it's mother?” It was a thought than a question, but often wildlife found its way to Riverclan due to the waters.

You can never be too loud. I've heard things louder that would make your ears want to fall off.” Troutsnout would respond with a toothy smile towards Shellkit, resting on her haunches to be more level with the child. Shellkit was an adorable child who'd had a rough life and her still being alive was a reminder that she wasn't something weak. Who knew how far she would go in life? Despite everything thrown at her, she's faced it head on and had an amazing support system.
speech