sensitive topics no light, no light | sick?

[robinheart]

tw: nausea and vomiting

The days prior had the tortoiseshell feeling off. Beyond the heartbreak of being left by Brookstorm, beyond the weariness of sleepless nights, beyond the waning appetite of emotional distress. Her stomach flip flopped and clenched on many occasions to which she chalked up to hunger pangs. Certainly she wasn’t far enough along to have morning sickness, right? If she was actually expecting at all. A few bites of food here and there would quell the discomfort for a time. Sipping water worked to a lesser effect as well. It was enough to give her false hope that she may be wrong about being with kits this whole time.

She’d soon find out she was a fool.

Nausea rouses the mottled molly from her nest. A discomfort in her belly that has superseded all the days prior has her second guessing everything. Shaky paws guide Robinheart out of the den for some fresh air. Her stomach pangs and tightens uncomfortably, acidic tang rising and burning the back of her throat. StarClan please don’t let me be sick, she internally begs as she hurries to the river to drink the cool water, hoping to extinguish the sting of bile.

It proves futile.

What little water she has ingested comes back up with a vengeance, staining the ground and spattering her front paws. Robinheart trembles from the forcefulness of her sick, tears running down her inky cheeks. So this was it - her gut feeling, her fears, the very thing that forced Brookstorm away… was all true. She couldn’t ignore it any longer or try to come up with alternatives any longer.

She was really and truly with kits.​

[ penned by kerms ]​

 

[shellpaw]

though perhaps the last thing the molly would like to see, shellkit is an impossibility to ignore. shaded ivory, a blistering white against the dimming evening. for a moment, she merely stares — a heavy - eyed thing, broken only by the occasional wheeze of breath from her blocked nose as robinheart comes stumbling from the warriors den and towards the water. not uncommon. what was, though, was the sound. an awful heaving that twitches a velveteen ear, a sympathetic squeeze in her stomach urging her to achy paws. the warrior is distracted and she takes that as her moment to settle down nearby ; in hopes, a comforting presence. in reality, a somewhat unnerving hover made worse when she whispers just over the water, ” somethings wrong with your belly? “

a simple fact ; not quite as deep as she seems to be aware of, unwavering gaze holding still and watery. after a beat, though, the she-kit sniffs, lifting her head with a slow, drowsy blink, if only to wrinkle her nose at the faintest waft of sick over the murky river reed, ” i can get moonpaw for you.. so you don’t do that again. “ a sniff. it was pretty gross.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𓇼 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

• i.
  
  
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• 
  
  SHELLKIT 𓆉 SHE / HER, KITTEN OF RIVERCLAN. HAZECLOUD xx LICHENTAIL, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. FIVE MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. PENNED BY ANTLERS.
  frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes..
  
  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore. feather breath and 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 pale pink at tender paws and nose tell a lifetime of sickness, obvious by the feathering weakness and crackling in whispery tones ---------- ° ❀ ⋆
  

  currently exhibiting symptoms of whitecough. this includes a running nose, wheezing, sluggishness, and labored breathing. please keep contagion in mind.

  
  

​

 

[Gladefrost]

Troutsnout had noticed Robinheart frantically racing to the river which caused the warrior to raise an eyebrow in concern, what was wrong with her? It didn't take that long before the tortoiseshell spewed bile in the area in front of her and over her front paws, her stomach churning at the sight. Oh, that's gross... A paw is used to cover her nose for a moment as she takes a courageous deep breath, and comes over to the unknowingly pregnant female. She uses a paw to splash water onto the bile in attempt to rinse it off the side and off Robinheart's paws to help clean herself, her face locked tightly to not gag on the scent.

At Shellkit's request to get Moonpaw, the cinnamon colored warrior nods. "Please. Go get @Moonpaw if you would, I'm going to help get Robinheart cleaned up." After requesting the she-kit to go get the medicine apprentice, she would turn her attention back and would continue to help clean the she-cat off using a paw to gently splash water on her. "Are you feeling better now?"
​

"speech", thoughts, attacking

 

[HOUNDSTRIDE.]

He doesn't know anything about how Flint'd been carrying him. Obvious enough, that was. He'd missed the whole of Smoke's pregnancy, at least anything truly visible, and really that's as close 's'he'd ever been to it. Even if he was fit to carry them himself, the thought itself nearly has him running the river alongside Robinheart. Vulnerability. Weakness. Relying on the cats around him in a way he couldn't help but shy from, and the thought of things going wrong — he thinks if it ever came to be, the sheer force of his anxiety would radiate off his skin and make each worry real. So he does what he can to stay away from the nursery.

This time, though, he doesn't quite know. Robinheart's not in the nursery. She's just another warrior, likely sick with crowfood. He wrinkles his nose at the sound and grimaces the closer he gets, though Troutsnout's already working towards the cleaning. There's something nearly intimate about it. Honest and gentle. Not quite what he's capable of, so instead the warrior flicks his tail towards Shellkit's line of sight and twitches his whiskers back towards camp. "C'mon Shellkit, I'll walk with you. See'f there's anything she needs us to carry back."

𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐋𝐄𝐓: 𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊.  ╱ ( 𝑬𝑿𝑰𝑻 𝑯𝑨𝑴𝑳𝑬𝑻 ) 〚 03.11.2024 〛 𓆟༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆｡˚ ༝ • .𓆝

• OOC. —
• 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄. HE - HIM - HIS. PRODIGAL WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN. ————— mauled by a fox moons ago and has the scars to prove it. though his wounds are healed, nothing can rid him of that pain.  ╱ PENNED BY REVELATIONS
  
  a lean chocolate tabby with lime green eyes. the scars that had once been limited to the bridge of his nose now shatter and expand across that entire side of his face, up to a ripped ear and down to his shoulder and front right leg. it is somewhat difficult for him to put his weight on that paw at odd angles, and he gets grumpy after a long while of walking, but it does not inhibit him terribly.

• "speech"

​

 

[lichenstar]

✦　˚ 　✧ ˚　.˚　✦ 　✦

CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY ✧

• Against her will she knew. Hoped and prayed to StarClan they might pluck this secret from between her ears like a snake that had wormed its way somewhere it wasn't welcome. It insisted on being acknowledged... had insisted on being remembered in the form of furrowed gray brows and a tremulously whispered confession.
  
  It demanded to be confronted... again. Once again from the sunset speckled lips that had first uttered it. Robinheart keels over and Lichentail can feel her belly twisted in familiar discomfort.. in an unspoken jealousy she didn't dare share with Hazecloud. The loss of a perfectly could meal was nothing to admire... but what it stood for....?
  
  She draws close to the tortoiseshell with a tightness that does not suit their relationship... she doesn't consider them close, bonded only in memory by near-death and a mutually loved orphan. Her whisper betrays her wish to help, her soft hymn for a less painful transition.
  
  "It's going to be okay..." she didn't think herself a liar... didn't feel like this wouldn't be a truth. "Try to relax... we'll make sure you're taken care of." She really only means to speak on behalf of herself and Hazecloud but... there was no reason it didn't apply to the whole clan too, really.
  
• about
  speech hex code ✧ #6368A5
  ooc notes ✦ my template may be broken bc mobile posting
  tagging ✶
  
  penned by tieirlys
• 
  
  ˚　　★⋆. ࿐࿔　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 .
  
  　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　 　　　　 ੈ✧˳·˖✶ ✦　　˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚ ★⋆. ࿐࿔
  
  　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦　　
  
  

​

 

[iciclefang]

Iciclefang peeks her nose out of the nursery just in time to see Robinheart stride from the warrior’s den, her steps frantic, toward the water’s edge. A tortoiseshell face leans close to the water, lapping up droplets and then expelling them immediately onto the camp’s floor. Curiosity pricks the queen’s ears as she rises, giving any nearby kits a quick murmur of assurance before she’s crossing the sandy earth toward the small gathering of cats. Amber eyes are stretched wide, tremble with tears, in spite of Lichentail’s reassurance.

She frowns, watching quietly as Troutsnout goes to her aid and Houndstride leads Shellkit away from the mess. Iciclefang remembers the tightening morning belly, forceful expulsions as the sun woke the sky. Robinheart is so young, though, and so newly mated—and that look on her face is anything but the pride and happiness of a newly-discovered mother.

“Perhaps we should be clearing a spot for you in the nursery,” she murmurs. “Fair warning, it’s crowded. You’ll be stepping on kits trying to set your nest down.” She offers the younger molly a wry smile.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Iciclekit . Iciclepaw . Iciclefang, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 22 moons old, ages realistically on the 17th.
  — mentored by Smokestar ; mentoring Cicadapaw ; previously mentored n/a
  — riverclan lead warrior & queen. mudpelt x icesparkle, gen 2.
  — former mate to Stormywing ; current mate to no one.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh tortoiseshell and white she-cat with ice-blue eyes. confident, capable, proud, dry, conceited, condescending, distrustful.
  
  

​

 

[robinheart]

It is a wispy wheezy breath that rises just above the water's lullaby that draws Robinheart from her disheartened thoughts. Shellkit is much to young to understand - much to innocent to bear the knowledge of a relationship failed just after it had begun to blossom. Her throat burns, silencing the tortoiseshell who was very much at a loss for words anyway. Instead she offers Smokestar's kin a somber nod. Yes, please get Moonpaw. Please don't be here anymore. The pallid kitten may never know Robinheart's thoughts, but she has a feeling that Houndstride understands and that is the primary reason he volunteers to escort Shellkit away. Perhaps one day she will thank him for sparing Shellkit any more time with a taken ill molly; for allowing Robinheart a small shred of dignity.

Her citrine eyes do not remove themselves from her paws as another approaches and helps to clean her up. It is a kind gesture, one that brings fresh tears to the mottled molly's vacant gaze. "Y-Yeah..." Robinheart rasps as Troutsnout inquires of her physical wellbeing. The ever present nausea is abated for now. Perhaps one shining light in this whole ordeal. She winces slightly at the chill of water splashed upon her soiled paws by the cinnamon hued warrior. It is all too easy to get lost in the ebb and flow of the current as it is disrupted by Troutsnout's paw to clean off Robinheart. It is all too easy to get lost in the gentleness of the action, the care that goes into each movement to ensure the soon to be queen is cleansed. "Thank you." Gratitude spoken as soft as a feather is bestowed upon the other for doing something that was not required or asked of her.

Out of the corner of her eye Robinheart catches Lichentail's approach and instinctively her ears angle back against her head. Why must she make a fool of herself in Lichentail's presence yet another time? The tortoiseshell expects disappointment or perhaps a reprimand (she is considering Lichentail in their position of authority rather than the alternative) and is subtly surprised to hear fragile words of support. Promises that Robinheart realizes she so desperately needs to hear. At that her ears angle upwards ever so slowly and she blinks gratefully towards the blue point. The same grateful expression is granted to Iciclefang in turn, though for her wry smile and lack of judgement. "Crowded could be nice... better than being alone," Robinheart murmurs quietly, swallowing hard at the sting in her throat and blinking away residual wetness from her eyes.

( penned by kerms )​

​

 

[Gladefrost]

The spotted female was quiet as she helped Robinheart clean herself with occasional water being lightly splashed on her with an paw. She was immersed in her work before her cobalt gaze shifted for a moment before she had zoned back in and noticed the abundance of people who surrounded them. "Mm, that's good." Trout would murmur softly as she takes a step back away from the pregnant female to give her some more breathing room. She takes a moment to rinse her paws off after helping the soon to be queen up, allowing others to give the tortoiseshell moral and emotional support. A long plumed tail sways slightly as she nods along in agreement to the Deputy's words.

"If you ever need help or anything, just let me know or anyone else." Troutsnout would respond and offers a rare smile to the warrior. Robinheart was the same age as her and sometimes Trout came off cold due to her neutral personality and stone face as she didn't really smile much. The tears welling up in the corner of her peer's yellow eyes made her feel awkward in a sense as she feels her paws get sweaty as she wasn't the best at comforting others. "A-Ah, don't cry. We're all here for you." The female would meow in an horrible attempt to comfort Robinheart, her ears flattening slightly from her nervousness of being horrible at comforting one.
​

"speech", thoughts, attacking