sensitive topics MOURNING SONG ⛧ badger sett

[Vulturepaw]

˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖ 　Clarity slips its way back into Vulturepaw's sickness-addled brain little by little. His aching slowly eases, and the days stretch infinitely longer. He'll be out of here soon, he thinks. He just wishes that soon didn't feel so far away.

He's lucky, in a way. Yellowcough took its time in finding him, waited until his family had been claimed to take its hold. He was one of the last to enter the badget sett, the steady stream of ill cats slowing to a trickle. He has not suffered nearly as much as some of the cats he shares a den with.

Quietcrow worries them. The warrior was among the worst of the sick, his treatment coming so late that he had already given up hope. Maybe that was what sealed his fate, his body rejecting the treatment in his hopelessness. There was something sad in his eyes when Wolfsong came to treat all of them. Vulturepaw can't say he's close with the gentle tom, but he has always been one to worry. Fretful eyes flicker over to his form now, as mumbled words drip from his maw, eyes wode and feverish.

He stares out at nothing, and Vulturepaw leans closer, strains to listen. "Hm...?" Barely audible words trail out into the dim of the den. I'm sorry. Tears slip down the warrior's face. "What... what are you sorry for?" Each word is said slowly, although the sluggishness of illness is already beginning to fade.

Quietcrow's eyes close with a shaky sigh, and do not open again.

"Um. Hey Quietcrow?" the apprentice entreats softly. Quietcrow is still.

...

"C-c-c'mon... We're all g-gonna be out of here soon." He can't give up hope... Vulturepaw feels shaky. He wants to comfort the warrior, tell him it will be okay, but instead he draws back. "He's..." Their voice begins to raise with worry. Vulturepaw feels cold. "Why isn't he... moving...?" Their breaths come fast. They know why, distantly - but they're too scared to say it. That might make it real.

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

• takes place during/after quiet's heartbreaking oneshot <3
  
  RIP quiet you will be missed ;-;
  

• 

  
  
  "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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[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── They were doing well, he thought. The first time yellowcough found them, it devoured WindClanners while Wolfsong was helpless to watch. What herbs could alleviate certain symptoms could not undo the strain that the plague wrung their bodies into, and this time, Wolfsong has been cautiously optimistic that they will make it through. Perhaps even without a single clanmate lost to its invisible teeth.

But of course, it is well that he had such caution, for when he next enters the badger set, he finds a hauntingly familiar scene. He can imagine for a moment that it is Snakehiss with his mother, caught in a vulnerability that the former WindClanner had scorned in others. But Vulturepaw is not so odious a clanmate, and Quietcrow is not family— though it does not ache in Wolfsong's chest any less to see the apprentice call for him warblingly.

He picks his way through the ailing to reach the pair, and Vulturepaw is fit to work himself into a serious, taxing condition if he is not calmed. Wolfsong checks Quietcrow's breathing first, confirming what he already suspected. It seemed not so long ago that Quietcrow was simply an apprentice, introspective and soft-spoken. Now he is gone from these moors forever, walking in a brighter place— yet one so far from those who miss him.

Wolfsong rubs at his chest with a grimace before turning back to Vulturepaw. He crouches beside the younger feline, blocking his view of Quietcrow. "Peace, Vulturepaw. Focus on slowing your breaths to match mine." He swallows hard. Vulturepaw already knows. "He is gone, child, but do not rush to see him again. We must focus on your recovery, and so I need you to breathe. Slower."

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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.

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[CELANDINEPAW]

Celandinepaw had come to terms with the harsh truth that there was no medicine for death. Its permanence seemed to laugh in the face of medicine cats, those closest to its mocking contour, as though its victims existed as mere martyrs ended by their own hapless luck or fate. There seemed no reason for death's selection - perhaps it favored those that had always strayed nearest to the ends of its silhouette, but it overtook even those that seemed to evade it the longest. Like a hunting hound always on the run, there would always be more hares for it to sink its teeth into, and more napes that would bleed out in surprise at just existing in the wrong place at the wrong time. The reality of it all had only cemented itself further into the medicine cat apprentice's brain as soon as she had followed Wolfsong, like the quietus had knelled certain doom in her ears, the absence of breath-song a silent damnation. The spotted tabby knew that Quietcrow had little chance to come out of the plague unscathed, with the warrior's treatment arriving far too late for any strung-out prayers to catch luck for him. It was her fault, the thought immediately and violently bloomed through her head, that she had not kept a closer eye on Quietcrow. Wheat-tinged eyes glanced at Quietcrow's unmoving body of sable, as though a bane mulled over each untouched strand of fur and end of whisker, so peaceful for something so terribly tragic. Where labored breathing once fluttered out of a paper throat, now not even that comfort would arise. The golden molly's own vocal chords hitched, as she willed no tears to well forth from the pockets of her eyes, as she wished for nothing more than the sweet scent of death to fall from her too-keen nostrils.

"I'm sorry." Celandinepaw could only muster, the statement a silent plea for Wolfsong to let her do something to help - she cared not if she were to drag Quietcrow's body out of the badger sett, as long as she could elude the oppressive atmosphere that suffocated the energy even out of the surviving. It had been partly to get away from Vulturepaw, whom she sensed that she no longer had the favor of. I did what I could. It wasn't enough. I tried my best, didn't I? This wouldn't have happened with any other cat. It's all my fault.

𝘗𝘙𝘌𝘔𝘖𝘕𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚 𝘚𝘔𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘐𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘋𝘈𝘙𝘒 .° ✿ °. 𝘐 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘚𝘌𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘚𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘠 𝘐𝘚 𝘚𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖 𝘈𝘙𝘊

• OOC:
  
• ( NOTE: Reference is a placeholder until a drawn reference can be supplied. Credit HERE )​
  
• 

  —— CELANDINEPAW / She/They/He / 12 Moons
  —— Medicine Cat Apprentice of Windclan / Mentored by Wolfsong
  —— A shorthaired golden spotted tabby with yellowish-green eyes. Somewhat pudgy, though lean and able to hold her ground in the wild.
  —— Extroverted and unafraid to speak their mind, she is a friendly and affable face in Windclan. Though ditzy and somewhat cowardly, she tries her best to help her clan.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

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