camp OH THE DARKNESS GT A HOLD ON ME // infection

[MORNINGBIRD]

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In his years, Burr had seen many cats rise and fall. To tooth and claw, to water and leaf.....to the unseen and unforgotten. He was old, heaving with all the hulking mass of an ancient beast, wiser than many of the young cats who called these lands home. It gave him a great many privileges when it came to helping these sprouts bloom into something great.

And yet, for all that he knew, Burr did not know everything.

It happened one morning as he was cleaning, an awful, bitter taste filled his mouth that made him want to retch. Confusion and curiosity led him to inspect his leg, pulling back wads of fur only to see that the worst had happened. His wound had scabbed over not long ago, allowing for Dawnglare to clear it to breathe from the cobwebs and herb staunching, but now, it took on a color that should frankly never be seen outside of plants. He had seen this before, and it did not end well. The pieces began to fit together then, the apparent lack of reaction to the cold he'd at first been thankful for, the increasing irritation he had once attributed to the scab making his skin taut, the soreness.... The thought of what came next made his eyes flicker to where Mushroom and Cotton were playing in the clearing. Yet before his thoughts could spiral, he remembered that for all of his own herbal inadequacies, there was someone who should know how to fix this.

He pads over to the medicine den, peeking inside and seeing nothing but the disorderly organized chaos of the place Dawnglare slept. Frowning, he pulls back, approaching a small group of Skyclanners with a small voice. "Have any of you seen Dawnglare today?...I need to check in with him."

/I promise grandpa is fine!!! this is just a learning experience <3​

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header by lleafeons on DA, fancy via chérie​

 

[Fireflyglow]

WE'VE BEEN DOIN' ALL THIS LATE NIGHT TALKIN' ✧
The call from Burr, asking for Dawnglare's location, catches the small kit's attention. Half-lidded eyes flutter as he watches the old man look into the medicine den unsuccessfully. "He's probably out collecting herbs, gramps." Fireflykit squeaked out, falling in beside the much larger tom to sniff at the gross-smelling wound. He flinched, pulling back with a gag. "What's that? Why's it smell like rotten dirt?" He asks curiously, pondering on how Dawnglare would react to this. He'd probably say something like a riddle..

"The earth cursed you, gramps. Green's a deadly color." He mimicked the words that Dawnglare spoke to him a bit back, looking up proudly at his own intelligence. Would Dawnglare praise him, for remembering such information? "Greenpaw makes me feel better! He's green, but he's not deadly. Maybe I could go get him? Maybe he's magic, or somethin'?"

// obligatory tag for @GREENPAW and @DAWNGLARE ​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

"He's lying," a drawl of the word, hissed between clenched teeth and sneer-pulled lips. He was a little fool, this one, poisoned by the lies of the little deathmonger. He still insists, despite Dawnglare's efforts. Never once does he dwell on the thought that, of course, a killer would claim themself harmless to their victim. Ghost from nowhere, he slides close to the little body, settling a critical eye upon the older tom. "What is it? Who's cursed?" upon first thought, he'd think it to be the little sympathizer, so keen on keeping the wretched dear to his heart, but, if it leaves by his lips, surely not...

And his eyes drag to something wretched, strange color peeking from behind swaths of fur. Instinctively, he recoils. Rampant, a hind leg taps against the ground. What— what— "Who— what—" And suddenly, the child he'd been so quick to sidle beside was a good ways ahead of him, now. Better the sympathizer's exposure than his own. They'd die before they'd truly proven themselves anything of value. Maybe Blaise would fall sad at such a thing, but with four more to spare, it isn't so much of a loss. "What has... befallen you?" he asks, stumbling over his words.​

 

[GREENEYES]

He hears those words again. Words of how deadly his namesake is.

A color. He's named after a color.

How deadly can a color be? And why would his mother name him after something so... so deadly..? The claim is sourced from Dawnglare, though, so how true can they really be? Dawnglare - who Greenpaw is still convinced steals kits' teeth. His own wiggly teeth disappeared without a trace - who else would have taken them, if not SkyClan's own medicine cat?

It has to be a lie; green is not a deadly color.

The tale is uttered from a different voice this time: Fireflykit. Followed by an echo of Greenpaw's name. The apprentice looks over in confusion, catches Blazestar's son speaking to Burr. Certainly the elderly cat would know better? He can't help but to pad over, to find out just what's going on.

Magic, Fireflykit claims. Greenpaw is magic.

He likes that idea better than Dawnglare's. A boost in his ego, swiftly brought down by the medic insisting the kit is lying.

A foul smell hits him, causes him to scrunch up his nose. "What is that?" he asks, viridescent eyes scanning around for the source, only to spot the source of the smell on Burr. Green. He's turning green.

"You're greener than me!" the apprentice points out, despite his uncertainty towards what's causing it. He just hopes Burr won't end up being proof of Dawnglare's beliefs. "Maybe... Maybe you're turning into a plant! A plant cat! Maybe you'll grow leaves?"

That would be... That would be kind of cool, yeah? He'd be able to blend into the forest!
​

 

[sheepcurl]

Churro follows after her apprentice with concerned eyes, attracted by a sour like smell, paws digging slightly in to the earth as she fights back a recoil. The scent was coming from Burr, she slides her eyes to Dawnglare with a crooked brow, hoping that he'd know what to do. "That looks... yeesh, amigo, looks painful." she eyes the green spot with a scrunched nose.

Greenpaw speaks of a plant cat, Burr being greener than him and she can't help but begin to giggle, swishing her tail back and forth. He certainly does know how to bring lightheartedness in to the conversation, thats for sure. "Next it'll be you turning in to a plant cat!" she jests towards Greenpaw before returning her gaze back to Dawnglare. "Let me know if I can help." her tone loses all joke, replaced with something serious that even surprised her.
​

"speech"​

 

[MORNINGBIRD]

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"Curse is an...apt term, little one, but I will be fine. Dawnglare will know what to do." But as the tom was summoned by the mere thoughtcrime of green being anything but her ladyship's worst possible creation this side of a wildfire, it became very apparent that he did not know what to do. Burr's face falls, anxiety creeping in as the youngsters try and lighten the mood with jokes of him becoming one with the forest. They'd be awfully right if something was not done.

"You mean to tell me that you've never seen a wound go sour in all your moons?" He speaks in a hushed whisper, trying to keep such conversation from young ears the best he can. "It will take a cat sooner than you can blink, I don't know what causes it, or what to do with it. I just know that I have lost too many to it and I am not keen on joining them." In all fairness, it was not all that many, but to lose even one to something you couldn't control or help was too much for many cats. He was lucky enough to have caught it before he lost his wits in the pain. ​

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header by lleafeons on DA, fancy via chérie​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Greeeeeeeeenpaw barks comments about as fruitful as his own pitiful existence. A cat turning into a plant— the very thought has bile rising in his throat. She would never— She would never stoop to such a thing. No matter how badly She was suffering or how near Her life's end drew, She would not, could not assimilate such pathetic flesh into Herself. It was against the very laws of nature, the very... soil they walked on. He audibly retches at the suggestion, nearly choking on his very spit at the very thought. Incredulously, he shoots a look towards the spotted deer, jaws parted in a gape. Greenpaw? Oh, no. He would much sooner split his own stomach open than watch the monster be drawn into the earth.

Suddenly, the tom lowers his voice, like a wallowing spirit not wanting to be heard through his tears. With a strain in his neck, Dawnglare tilts forward, though his grimace would only deepen with the suggestion his whisper carries. His jaw ticks. And who was he to say— to judge what is and isn't something he would—should see. And who... who was the old fool who'd allowed himself to suffer such a thing, anywho? 'It will take a cat sooner than you can blink'' wasn't that... something? He trills a sudden outburst of giggling, poorly hidden behind bitten lips. "Heh— is— is that s-s-so?" He swallows thick. If only it were that... ea-sy ♪ And once he finishes speaking. "Oooh," rumbles past his lips, though his tone betrays truly how much he cares (which is quite. little.)

If anything, he was... he is more bothered by the tom perceiving a lack of knowledge by him. And who's to blame him? Clearly— clearly it's a plague, set loose upon him for the weight of his sins. For the seasons and seasons he's been alive, oh, certainly there would be many. Repentance, punishment, it's settling swift. But maybe, only for his own self-satisfaction (or even so he wouldn't have to look at this filth for any longer) he would like to... do something about it. Perhaps.

A meeting, tonight. Perhaps he would share this one's imminent death with the others. Banter, for the moment. His smile is too-wide and broken. And of course, a step back as soon as possible. He knows, knows he is immune, but... repulsive. A shudder wracks along his spine.​