camp MAXIMILLIAN WHAT YOU WAITING UP FOR? &. sick

[SPLINTERPAW.]

BUT MAYBE THAT'S A LIE​

---

everything hurts. it feels groggy and gross. he swears he didn't feel like this way just a few days before. his brows furrow as he looks ahead, panting and wheezing heavily, trying his best to take in a full breath. he can't. his throat hurts too, and instinctively he tries to clear it. he can't. he stands up on his paws and tumbles out of his nest with a wince. a weak wheeze sounds as he sucks in a breath, digging his tiny kitten claws into the ground to steady himself as he stands up. he stumbles out of the nursery, sitting down with pained panting. has it always been this hard to breathe?

"...where's... m-...mama? oh... oh you've... come back from... the... stars...? i... I've missed you so much mama. can... can you pr-promize this time to n-not... l...leave...? i missed y...ou..."

he wheezes through every single word. he does not know why he feels so out of breath but it hurts to try. he fully lays down, gently bumping against the shadow of nothing, his eyes lighting up fondly.

"i... love you t...oo mama..."

​

 

[SCORCHSTORM]

cw: anxiety about death & health

Her throat has been sore. Scorchstorm has been eager to chalk it up to her grief — she had screamed for Rattleheart as if it would bring her back from the stars, but even days afterwards, the pain has not eased. Her breathing has been arrested more and more, too, on patrols, over the moors, even at rest. Again, she attributes it to something familiar and safe to blame: when WindClan had burned, the smoke had eased into her lungs and she had never breathed the same since. All she is experiencing now is the jealous fit of the organs; the knowledge that they were not working right, and the lashing out that came with being less than.

Willful ignorance is a tool she employs to protect herself from the cold touch of true horror. She is not stupid — she can see the signs of Yellowcough's revival in each clanmate that coughs, hacks, and spits about camp; Wolfsong himself had announced its return to WindClan, and she had ignored it for as long as she could. But no longer. She stares, hollow-eyed, into the nursery where Splinterkit rots while still living. The mouse she had intended to give to Venomstrike drops from her jaws in quiet terror. Her cousin babbles to a mother that no longer walks this earth.

Scorchstorm presses her nose to his forehead. "Tell Rattleheart I say hi," she requests of the child before departing quickly to Wolfsong's den.

Her dual-tone gaze flickers over him with a desperation she cannot voice. In the few pawsteps it takes to get from the nursery to the medicine den, Scorchstorm's heart and lungs have skipped into the sunset together at a pace she has never felt before. It is hard to keep the air in, though Yellowcough is not at fault here. I journeyed to defeat this illness. It cannot possibly be back, turns to Splinterkit has fallen ill anyway, which means his littermates must be at risk, turns to they will all die in the badger sett with no mother to watch over them. She struggles to breathe enough to talk. "Splinterkit," she says, perhaps unhelpfully. "He's sick."

And so am I — or I will be, and my lungs will rot out of my ribs, and then what? She does not voice this concern aloud; simply stares at the wall and tries to soothe the breath that has bucked her.

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐌 ✧

• ooc. fetching @WOLFSONG and @CELANDINEPAW
  
• SCORCHSTORM —— warrior of windclan, mentored by sunstar & badgermoon . scorchstreak x badgermoon . littermate to rumblerain, frostwind, and luckypaw ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a broad-shouldered tortoiseshell with low white and dual-toned amber eyes. extremely loyal to sunstar and her family, and enjoys a deep connection to the moorlands
  ✦ demigirl / she they pronouns / lesbian / 16 moons & ages every 1st
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will start fights / will not flee / may show mercy. fights honorably and with great ferocity. can tank a few hits, but is not the sturdiest cat in windclan. starts fights with the intention of finishing them permanently, but will not aim to maim or kill obviously young cats
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

• 

​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ Of course, when Splinterkit comes stumbling from the nursery, Scorchstreak takes notice. She may not be the greatest aunt to ever walk the moors, but she’ll be stars-damned before any of Rattleheart’s kits find themselves in danger and alone. So when she spots Splinterkit on his own outside of the nursery, she begins her trot on over to greet him, calling out to him gently. "Little thorn, you should be-" “Can you promise this time to not leave?” Scorchstreak’s eyes widen for a moment, a flare of concern lighting her expression. Who could he be speaking to? Dappled paws pick up their pace considerably, her easy gait shifting to a more hurried pace.

“I love you too, mama.” The calico’s muzzle draws tight, brows furrowing. This isn’t normal. She hadn’t seen illness as intimately as some of her clanmates, having been gone in the mountains while the majority of the clan battled their sickness. But even despite her lack of firsthand knowledge, she recognizes sickness when she sees it. She recognizes the heaving effort of every breath, the clouded-over gaze of delusion. "Oh, Splinterkit," she murmurs to him, her chest aching. Damn you, Rattleheart. That RiverClan rat was not worth your own kits’ lives. The deputy crouches and with uncharacteristic softness she aims to press her nose gently to the kit’s forehead. "We should go speak to Wolfsong."

every love that i touch ☽♰☾ falls to ruin

• ooc: —
• 
• SCORCHSTREAK ❯❯ she/they, deputy (tunneler) of windclan
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. cold and closed-off, ferociously protective of her clanmates. rarely seen aboveground.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to bilberrypaw ; previously mentored pinkshine
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted, but may react aggressively
  ༄ penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[SUNNVAR]

✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ He recalls some aspects of yellowcough. The fever and the aching, yes. The difficulty breathing. But of all their symptoms, he knows this to be the most potent of them all — in all things, their love for their family, for their clan, would guide the ailing. Scorchstorm does not share what made her see sickness in the child, but she does not have to. From his own space in Wolfsong's den, mid-conversation with the wheaten tom, his head jerks to her. The nursery– it should not surprise him that it would reach their weakest sooner rather than later. It had already hit their apprentices and warriors. Even if Lungwortkit had been in here this long. . . had she played with them? Stood with them, face-to-face? Or had it come from a visitor who stuck their head in too long?

Scorchstorm worries about death, and Sunstar shares it quickly. He squeezes his eyes shut and thinks of Bluefrost's nest and unborn kits. "They are off of milk, are they not? The whole of her litter." As lonely as it may be, it would be easier if they could eat and play together by the badger sett. But protecting them, then. . . Would they need a guard? Would sickness take them, too?

𝐈 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 ╱ ️️️ ( 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝗕𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐆 ) ️️️ ️️️ ⌞06.17⌝ 🟒ᨒ

• 

  ✧₊⁺ ️️️ ️️╱ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ OOC. —
  

  

  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑. SUNSTRIDE. SUNNVAR.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ MASC ️️️ & ️️️ AMAB, ️️️ HE – HIM – HIS.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ SECOND LEADER OF ️️️ WINDCLAN.
  ᯓ✧ ️️️ ️️ ️️️ NINE LIVES: ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆ ️️️ ⋆̴͖̻̌͛ ⋆̵̼͈̐̿̓̏͝ ⋆̶̬́̀

• 
  a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunstar now is not his proud posture or boxy build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg. a wound that would have killed most other cats took one of his lives; not even starclan could repair it.
  
  
  a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to worry about, and now nine lives from starclan with a missing limb, windclan's leader has much to prove.

• "speech"

​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── Scorchstorm is not well. As she delivers the news of Splinterkit's condition, Wolfsong's eye narrows— she does not speak like one with a healthy set of lungs, and she should not be out of breath from a journey through the camp. It may be remnants of the fires, but Wolfsong doubts that as greatly as he doubts any cause other than yellowcough for the aches and pains in WindClan. Unless explicitly tied to an injury on the moors, Wolfsong is quite convinced of what shadow is responsible. But with a kitten ill, he must see to Splinterkit before he can address Scorchstorm, whose body is not still new to the world (and weakened by the loss of a precious mother). He does, however, spare her a heavy, telling glance on his way out of the medicine den.

He looks to the other nursery occupants, the kits now in danger of yellowcough, and grimaces before wiping such a dour expression clean. Best not to frighten them. Splinterkit has his aunt there to comfort him, if he is even aware of Scorchstreak's presence. "We must take him to the medicine den," he says lowly from his mate's side, looking down at the poor thing, tricked by his sick mind into believing Rattleheart comforts him. "I am not sending kits to the badger set. Lungwortkit has been recovering in my den, as will any other ill child; it will be slightly more familiar to them."
​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 46 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTAR (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
  
  — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
  
  — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
  
  — ★★★☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart and his own pregnancy, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
  
  — ★★★☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

​

 

[Vulturepaw]

˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖ 　Plague sweeps through the camp, every day taking more cats. Off to the medicine den or the badget set, threat of death hanging heavy in the air. It hangs heaviest over Rattleheart's kits, their loss palpable. Vulturepaw feels the strangeness of it with every visit to the nursery, the queen's absence a missing piece. He had been there as long as the apprentice can remember, and now his kits are left alone.

Is it any wonder that they give themselves over to the lethargy of illness? They are so weak and so hurt, and his heart can hardly take the sight of it. His friend, stumbling around blearily, wheezes rattling his tiny chest. Mumbled words about his mama, an unreal haze descending upon his mind. Maybe it is a comfort, to not feel the pain or fear of it. Vulturepaw feels terrified. "Splinterkit..." they breathe shakily. Wolfsong is quick to descend, declare that his fate is to be confined within the medicine den. Their eyes lock onto him, urgency flooding their desperate words. "He's... He's g-gonna be okay, right?" He has to be. He can't join Rattleheart yet.

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

• 
  

• 

  
  
  "SPEECH"
  ​

• 
  VULTUREPAW ⛧ he / they, apprentice of windclan, six 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.

​

 

[SPLINTERPAW.]

BUT MAYBE THAT'S A LIE​

---

he doesn't want to go with anyone. he wants to stay here, with his mom. they're right here, can't they see it? can't they see them? his gaze moves to the blurred figure of his cousin, who presses her nose to his head. she says to say hi to rattleheart but... why can't she just do it herself? they're right there! his ears pin back as he heaves in and out, weakly trying his hardest to stand back up but it's no use. he just can't do it. his aunt comes next and she presses her nose to his head, too, but he can't understand why everyone seems so sad. shouldn't they be happy, seeing rattleheart back? his brows furrow and he shakes his head. terrifying. wolfsong was scary. he doesn't want to see him.

"can't... leave mama..."

he tries his best to say through his wheezes. he doesn't want to even blink. what if when he looks away from where she stands now, she's gone? he doesn't want her to go. she's here now. she's okay, now. his gaze is glossy as he looks at the other cats who gather and he pushes away as best as he can, shaking his head.

"ple...please don't make me leave mama... he just got back..."

​