sensitive topics only lasts for so long || seizure

[loampelt]

//cw for description of a partial seizure & emetophobia

Loam has rather quickly decided that her fur is a curse.

Her pelt is very rarely anything other than a tangled mess, oftentimes carrying burrs and leaflitter and whatever else happened to be in Loam's path that day. It's always been what Loam confidentially calls longish, and grows in thicker along her neck and tail. For as far back as Loam's memory allows, she's always had a good enough pelt to keep herself at a livable level of warm through the bitterest parts of Leafbare.

And now, with the coming Newleaf, Loam's undercoat has begun to shed, along with the healthy layer of accumulated filth. It's an itchy nightmare, and has left Loam to participate in what has quickly become her new favorite past-time in every spare moment she has — scratching at herself and pulling every last bit of loose fur free. She's even gotten a routine with it, first batting at her side with a hindleg to send a cloud of wispy black fluff in a misshapen circle around where she sits, then using her teeth to yank at the more stubborn knots.

Then something changes.

There is a taste in Loam's mouth that blooms across her tongue as if it were something physical — rotting teeth, she thinks for a delirious moment — acrid enough that Loam pauses in her fur-removal efforts to make a disgusted face, her hindfoot still poised to bat at her flank. It lasts a short time, no more than five heartbeats, and then Loam's gut climbs into her chest or her heart drops into her belly. Somehow the whole of her insides are crowded into one another, and Loam mistakenly thinks that this is the only warning before her vision snaps to white.

It happens quickly. Loam's face is still locked on a disgusted expression, but her now unfocused eyes blink and blink and blink. The whole left side of her body stiffens at the same time as the right slumps, and the result is a strangely gentle lowering of herself to the muddy ground. Then Loam is moving, her skyward-facing left trembling like a frightened rabbit while her right remains as lax as the dead.

Her whole body is involved for the least amount of time; all of her legs extended to their full amounts, and then a sharp jerk of her body, as if she's attempting to roll herself over and has failed. With that it is over, and Loam is left slowly pushing herself off the ground, wondering about why she was on the ground, wondering about the frothy spittle smeared on her cheek, wondering why her slow-cloudy thoughts tail behind her heavy head.

In a move that feels like an unceremonious cap to the event, Loam hunches abruptly, and vomits, then blinks her bleary eyes up at her gathered clanmates.​

tags ∘ shadowclan apprentice ∘ solid black with hazel eyes ∘ curled front foot ∘ 9 moons​

 

[Starlingheart]

Helpless. Starlingheart has to stand by and watch this horrifying scene play out in front of her with wide green eyes. She doesn't know what to do, has never seen this before. She knows her clanmates will somehow blame her for this, say she should know what to do but as Loampaw convulses on the ground all she can do is pray. She prays to the stars that she gets up again and she stands aside and watches. What else could she do? If she intervened she could make it worse, she does not know.

She lets out the breath she had been holding when finally, after several agonizingly long seconds she stands again. Starlingheart approaches on hesitant paws after the contents of Loampaws stomach have been expelled. "Lo-loam loamp-p-paw come wi-with me to to my den" she says gently "C-can you walk can you walk a-a-allll alright?" she hopes so. The black and white medicine cat bites her lower lip in worry "We-we'll g-get you so-some water and s-s-something to uh to s-settle to settle your stomach" really, what else is there for her to do?
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[smogstar]

Consistently, day after day, there's someone having hysterics in the middle of camp. It's simply a fact of ShadowClan life at this point. Whether there's a strange quality of the swampwater to blame for it, or it's a result of the clan's self-imposed isolation, everybody here feels inclined to put their problems on full-blast for all to see. Smogmaw, conversely, prefers to curb his strife and contain it all inside. He supposes this makes him an outlier of sorts in such an emotionally unstable place.

From all indications, however, Loampaw is gripped by a trouble beyond her own control. The apprentice writhes on the ground as though she were in the throes of death, scarcely clinging onto reality by a thread. For the moment, she isn't there. Whatever control she held over her body was in scant supply, for it spasms in a sickening, almost unnatural way. The deputy careens to Starlingheart's flank to get a closer look. He observes the ordeal through narrowed eyes, and pays strict heed to the rhythmic movements of her midsection. Should she stop breathing, hopefully the stars take mercy on her soul.

Then, it is brought to an end, and the girl ascends to her paws like nothing had even happened. A huff of disbelief escapes his maw. "Had me spooked for a moment-" he would utter in bated breaths, only to halt himself when she barfs. "By the stars, are you good?" asks the tom, drawing near shortly after the medicine cat. What on earth had gotten into her? Was she possessed? "Let me know if I can help with anything," he advises the healer, though he cannot remove his gaze from the seemingly bewitched apprentice.​

 

[BRINDLEPAW]

(=🝦 ﻌ 🝦=) — //TW for an inappropriate response, not out of intentional cruelty

Why was Loampaw making that face…? It looked as if the dark-furred apprentice was about to vomit, only instead her body lowered to the ground and began to oddly convulse. Brindlepaw, who had never seen anything like this though Loampaw was trying to be funny, right? The idea that this display was anything but an intentional act to be silly didn’t phase him, body parts jerking and seizing against once will was unheard of to him.

So… the only thing he knows to do is laugh. An immature, she-catish laugh rooted in his stomach bellows out. He laughs for several seconds, going ”What in the world you doin’ Loampaw?!” and was just a heartbeat away from making an (unintentionally) insensitive joke. The boy did not have a faintest idea that his den-mate was in pain, that this was a horrifying experience for her.

And when she gets up to vomit, he still doesn’t get it. It’s not until she looks up, bleary eyed that he realizes something isn’t right, and when his clan-mates rush over to help his stomach wrenches. …No Oh he felt awful!! What had he just done? Loampaw had done that because she wasn’t feeling good?

He blinks, utter embarrassment and shame filling his brain as he stumbles back apologizing, ”…Sorry… r-really sorry!” He meows in a hushed manner, uncertain if Loampaw or his clan would even hear his words. It took a lot for Brindlepaw to realize his immaturity, but right now he felt like a complete jerk. — tags​

 

[loampelt]

Loam rights herself, indiscreetly wipes her chin clean on her chest. It's the attention that worries her; it's that she's reaching for an answer in her memories and coming up with I was standing and then I wasn't. She can feel her clanmates questions on her pelt, heavy enough to rival her own, and Loam has no idea what to tell them because she has no idea what to think.

"Jus' Loam," She says on reflex, and feels uncertain in it. Enough time has gone by that Loam doubts this is going to be a temporary stay — how much longer can she be just Loam?

But then Starlingheart wants to know if Loam can walk, and Smogmaw wants to know if she's good, and Brindlepaw is sorry (why are you sorry?) and Loam's gone and went quiet for too long to be normal. Her thoughts come to her slow and her stomach is sour but Loam doesn't feel bad. Not enough to warrant this much concern.

"Ah — I-eee-uh can walk," She says at last, the usual grimace wrinkling her mouth as she speaks. To prove it, both to those gathered and herself, Loam takes a few uncertain steps and finds each one less shaky than the last.

Then, to Brindlepaw, with an air of forced playfulness, "Wh-what? Did yuh-you tr-tr-t-try tuh-to poison me ooo-or something?"​

tags ∘ shadowclan apprentice ∘ solid black with hazel eyes ∘ curled front foot ∘ 9 moons​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP​

---

"hey, easy. you didn't know. don't beat yourself up."

the voice of the leader comes from behind brindlepaw, as they twitched their tail. they'd never seen anything like this, so there was no way that starlightheart had either. and what did... you even do for something like this? it wasn't as if you could stop them from whatever that was, right? especially if they're not doing it on purpose. rubbing their head with one of their paws, they looked at loam for a moment, tail twitching.

"how are you feeling?"

what the fuck else were they gonna say? they weren't a fucking medicine cat, and they didn't know what else to do. stars be damned.
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[BRINDLEPAW]

(=🝦 ﻌ 🝦=) — Chilledstar’s words manage to comfort the apprentice a little, he nods and tries to straighten his spine in their presence. If Chilledstar forgave that quickly then it must be okay, besides… Loampaw seemed… to be making a joke? He looks at her astonished, ”Uh-umh, no! Of course not!” He’s conscious she’s jesting, but still he comes off very defensive. With that he stumbles away from the scene so that he does not make a fool of himself further.— tags​

 

[✧ Siltcloud.]

WHAT AN EXPENSIVE FAKE
siltpaw | 09 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally easy | attack in bold #ddadaf

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The scene unfolding before her gaze is, perhaps, one of the most terrifying she has eve witnessed. She cannot move - limbs have turned to stone, frozen in place. She can only wonder in awed horror and fascination, if this is perhaps how pitchstar had looked. And then suddenly, loampaw is up and moving about once more - as though nothing had happened. Laughing and joking.

Siltpaw wants to strangle them - shake her until her sense returns. But she doesn't, she can't - sucking in a sharp breath and rushing over the moment she feels reality come crashing down upon her. "L-loam!" her voice breaks in a way it has only done once before, her hushed voice replaced with a worried trill. She goes to touch her friends flank with her own, feeling out of her depth - sending a glare starlinghearts way, as though this is somehow the medicine cats fault. Perhaps it is - how would she know? She's friends with her brother after all.
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