- Jun 7, 2022
- 189
- 53
- 28
For fuck's sake. Red blisters angrily burned on her skin as she carefully dragged a singular honeycomb back to camp. It had been a battle of epic proportions.. and incredibly one-sided. Cats were not equipped to deal with bees. The molly had nearly cut down the hive in order to roll it into the nearest river.
The amount of the sweet substance had hardly been worth the effort or pain. In the end, the bees had won. Hackles raised in anger and annoyance. Sticky, itchy, and irritated, the molly stalked over to the high rock. "Any kits, queens, or elders with sore throats please come here." Though it sounded more like a demand than a request.
"Unfortunately, the only beehive I could find - that wasn't burned to a crisp or polutted by smoke - didn't have the most abundant supply. So what stock I have will go to the most vulnerable first." Her gaze drifted down to the honeycomb, a sigh turned cough escaping her throat.
Her eyes were forced close by the persistent smoke. Her underbelly was covered in a layer of ashes while her sides wheezed from the exertion of her previous task. Unlike outside, it was relatively breathable in camp. No doubt the inhalation of the smoke that wafted in would cause throat irritation but it was better than the suffocating air quality outside the camp.
"Furthermore," her voice croaked, "I need some able-bodied warriors to help me gather and soak moss. We need to line the entrances to the camps and dens with it while also tearing apart pieces wide enough for cats to use. It'll help suppress some of the smoke while also helping to protect the lungs." So, to summarize, they needed a shit-ton of wet moss.
The medicine cat seemed unsteady on her paws but adamant on carefully preparing small amounts of honey for each vulnerable cat in need. Furthermore, she would insist on joining any patrol who followed her last order-
If she wasn't willing or able to bear the heat, burning ashes, and smoke then she shouldn't be sentencing cats to take her place. This was something she needed to do. Unfortunately, her knowledge was still lacking: if someone began to experience immense trouble breathing than she hadn't a clue how to help nor fix that. She'd have to find another medicine cat or pray to the stars...
The stars that sought to punish her (and, by extension, the clan) for finally expressing emotions. They'd rather her lock them up like she'd done in the marshes. Or so she believed.
The amount of the sweet substance had hardly been worth the effort or pain. In the end, the bees had won. Hackles raised in anger and annoyance. Sticky, itchy, and irritated, the molly stalked over to the high rock. "Any kits, queens, or elders with sore throats please come here." Though it sounded more like a demand than a request.
"Unfortunately, the only beehive I could find - that wasn't burned to a crisp or polutted by smoke - didn't have the most abundant supply. So what stock I have will go to the most vulnerable first." Her gaze drifted down to the honeycomb, a sigh turned cough escaping her throat.
Her eyes were forced close by the persistent smoke. Her underbelly was covered in a layer of ashes while her sides wheezed from the exertion of her previous task. Unlike outside, it was relatively breathable in camp. No doubt the inhalation of the smoke that wafted in would cause throat irritation but it was better than the suffocating air quality outside the camp.
"Furthermore," her voice croaked, "I need some able-bodied warriors to help me gather and soak moss. We need to line the entrances to the camps and dens with it while also tearing apart pieces wide enough for cats to use. It'll help suppress some of the smoke while also helping to protect the lungs." So, to summarize, they needed a shit-ton of wet moss.
The medicine cat seemed unsteady on her paws but adamant on carefully preparing small amounts of honey for each vulnerable cat in need. Furthermore, she would insist on joining any patrol who followed her last order-
If she wasn't willing or able to bear the heat, burning ashes, and smoke then she shouldn't be sentencing cats to take her place. This was something she needed to do. Unfortunately, her knowledge was still lacking: if someone began to experience immense trouble breathing than she hadn't a clue how to help nor fix that. She'd have to find another medicine cat or pray to the stars...
The stars that sought to punish her (and, by extension, the clan) for finally expressing emotions. They'd rather her lock them up like she'd done in the marshes. Or so she believed.
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