camp meant nothing at all [ ❁ ] sick

[LICHENPAW ❁]

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SOMETIMES I CAN'T BELIEVE IT

It starts with a fogging of the mind.

Not unusual, for Lichenpaw. His thoughts are often hidden behind a cloudy film; he hasn't slept well for as long as he can remember. Maybe that's part of why it happened. Too many sleepless nights made him weak. Too many worried thoughts made him careless. Too many days in the medicine den made him very lucky, that it hadn't happened sooner.

His mind is wandering. Focus. The fog. Not the most dire of conditions, not the most telling. They wouldn't have thought much of it - didn't think much of it, and not just because they weren't in a state to think much of anything. It's just that there were more concerning matters. A little lack of focus is nothing when cats are dying around you, when you have patients to take care of. It was surely just a product of the stress, the lack of sleep.

He shouldn't have ignored it. He squeezes his eyes shut, tries to calm the roaring in his ears.

He feels shaky. He always feels shaky.

Steady. He doesn't think anyone's noticed yet, and he can't decide whether that's a good thing. He should say something, he knows. Tell Berryheart. Lichenpaw evens their strained breathing as much as they can. Pauses -- why are they in camp? Must have wandered out here, lost in thought. He should know better. He should know better. He can't be out here.

Lichenpaw's ears lay flat. The clan is dying around him. There's no way he can stop it, not without the lungwort. The healthy are all out on their death-march, searching for feverish delusions of salvation -- "I, um, I need --" Lichenpaw isn't sure who he's speaking to. He glances to a cat nearby. "Where's Berryheart?" The words are harsher than intended, almost accusatory. He reigns it in with a smile. "I - I need to, um. He should -- he needs to know --" Babbling. Focus.

Lichenpaw swallows, roughly, around the scratching in his throat. His breath rattles from his chest like a death knell."I think -- um. I'm -- I'm sick. Yellowcough." He spits the name like the curse it is. "I have yellowcough, it's -- I don't know how long I -- Where's Berryheart?" Wide, feverish eyes dart around camp. Was Berryheart in the medicine den when he left?

He can't remember...

It's all so foggy.

I'M MOVING PAST THE FEELING !
————— ❁ —————

.°❁ info ; visual

• // mentor tag @BERRYHEART ;-;
  ​
• LICHENPAW named for the lichen on the trees of his home.
  — he/him or they/them. 13 moons.
  — thunderclan medicine cat apprentice, mentored by berryheart.
  — bears a near-permanent nervous grin.
  
  primary character, high activity. penned by saturnid.​
• "SPEECH"
  ​
• 

​

 

[BERRYHEART]

Berryheart would curse himself forever for even momentary inattentiveness. Though he believed more than anything that the cure was on the way, was destined to reach them- there was little he could do in the meantime except for keep going, keep every ill cat teetering on the tightrope between life and death. With Freckles, he'd maybe gotten too comfortable I nstructing the dappled tom on how to care for the ill around the ill- and he'd remembered well, honey and feverfew. A wonderful student, an attentive one...

Daylight filtered in, and Berryheart met the spilling light with groggy eyes- and soon flashed an aware glimmer within his eyes, not long after waking, that there was someone missing. It did not take long to count, to figure it out- this early, where had his apprentice wandered off to? Crooked teeth clattered together, thoughtful for a moment- but if anything had happened, he would be back here. They would know to stay here, they would remember.

Only when someone came to fetch him did Berryheart feel his heart-rate pick up. What he faced was no bloodied form, no shredded student before him- but simply Freckles' turquoise gaze misted with a familiar glaze, a delirium he had seen in so many faces. The fever stewed under his student's skin, and Berryheart- without lungwort- was powerless to purge it.

His stomach lurched. Usually fond of dawdling, he wasted not a moment in piercing through any growing clowder to get to his apprentice's side. With every ounce of his being he tried to keep panic out of his eyes, tried to shun any shared from his tone. "You..." he murmured, but aborted the sentence. Though he wanted to say you'll be alright... he could not be certain of that, could he? The thought made him feel sick.

"Lean on me." he told Freckles lowly, desperately. "Back to your nest." Thoughts splintered, he flickered uneven eyes to study the stares. Leave them, he thought, but did not shout it aloud. Keep pity out of your eyes. Stop worrying.

"I won't give up on you." It was the only thing of which he could be sure.​

PENNED BY PIN ☾​

 

[BURNSTORM]

It was good that he had not been chosen to walk the same path as his uncle he thinks. Life as a medicine cat would never suit him, whenever he looked at the sick or the injured he feels it deep within his gut. He was meant to inflict wounds, not mend them. Still, he respects the job that Berryheart does, that Lichenpaw strives to do. They were stronger cats then he was.

Contracting the sickness that had befallen many of his clanmates, his own brother included, was probably one of his worst fears. Not even because the possibility of death scared him but because he was afraid of what may happen to his brain if he was forced to idle for too long. He would go mad, he thinks, if he were condemned to lay about in a nest all day.

When Lichenpaw staggers about murmuring there is only one thing that he knows it could be. He knows before the spotted tom even opens his mouth and says it himself. As bad as it makes him feel he does not go to him. Instead, he casts his gaze about to search for his uncle, relieved to find the tortoiseshell healer was already making his way over to his apprentice. "Can I get you anything Berryheart?" he asks, kneading his paws anxiously against the ground. He does not wish to spend time with the sick but Berryheart was his uncle, if he needed anything he only needed to ask.

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OOC NOTES . ✦ . CHARACTER INFO

• ooc : — ​
• 
  

  

  
  

  ➵ he / him
  ➵ thunderclan lead warrior
  ➵ single ; crushing on roeflame
  
  - - Burnstorm is a hot headed tom who, above all, loves his clan and his family. He cares deeply and passionately for those closest to him and is one of the most loyal friends a cat could have. Because of his half-kitttypet heritage, Burnstorm is always hard at work, believing that he has to put in twice the amount of effort a normal cat does in order to prove himself as a worthy clan member
  ↪ ISTJ-T 'the logistican'
  
  - - a large, black furred tom with golden eyes
  ↪ toyhouse [ ✦ ]
  
  ➵ skilled fighter and decent hunter
  ​

 

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

Another cat begins to stumble, their eyes veiled and foggy with illness. Raccoonstripe watches Lichenpaw's lurching steps with shadowed eyes. Berryheart is quick to inspect his apprentice, offering a flame-flecked flank for the younger cat to lean against. "I won't give up on you," the medicine cat says in his resolute way, determined that his apprentice will live. Raccoonstripe breathes a sigh of longing—that Nightbird, Flamewhisker, Little Wolf, and the other journeying ThunderClanners would slip through the gorse, eyes bright with life, jaws full of lungwort's spotted blossoms.

He pads on soft paws to where his kin surround Lichenpaw. Raccoonstripe gives Burnstorm a long, searching look, as if to say, Do you believe he will make it? The dead pile up around them—from rogues, from yellowcough. "Let me fetch him some prey. Perhaps when he's lucid, he can eat and regain some strength." There's nothing else he can do; Lichenpaw's fate is in his brother's paws, and in StarClan's.

ooc ✧ 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘺

•  
•  
• 

  — raccoon . raccoonstripe
  — he/him ; lead warrior of thunderclan
  — heteroflexible ; single
  — long-haired black tabby with white and dark brown eyes
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Rai

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