camp outrunning karma — fainting

[DOVEPAW!]

you want a battle ? i'll give you a war .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

He yawned, glancing up at his mentor who sneered, stalking away from the swaying apprentice, paws threatening to give out from beneath him as he stumbled his way through the camp’s entrance. He bit back a wince, muscles quivering from the constant training his mentor pushed him through, offering harsh quips that spurred the young apprentice forward.

What’s a few days without rest? He could handle it. It wasn’t impossible and Dovepaw was getting better. He was so so close, but every time he felt like he was taking two steps forward, Thistlefang reminded him of how much of a failure he was, taunting the scarred apprentice with Honeywish’s death. The freckled apprentice bit back a whimper at the thought of his late mentor, heartstrings pulling taunt until his chest constricted, helm pounding in tandem with the harsh thump of his heart.

He didn’t … He didn’t feel so good. The black-and-white apprentice stumbled, paws feeling heavier by the second. He was tried, unbelievably so, but Thistlefang—Dovepaw whimpered, feeling lightheaded until he collapsed in a heap near the camp’s entrance, exhaustion pulling at his bones with a quiet rumble of his stomach.

Dovepaw whined, peeling open an eye to stare ahead, body refusing to cooperate but to stare at the muddled group before him. Oh. He passed out, didn’t he? His stomach churned, fatigue weighing heavily on tired bones, barely able to move but an inch before giving up with a tired sigh.

Stupid. He winced, moving a paw to shield his eyes from the light that stung his remaining eye, tattered ears flatting against his helm. “S, Sorry—” He mumbled, speech slurred, struggling to push himself to his paws before giving up halfway, chest heaving. “I’m a, alright.” He mumbled, wincing at the subtle thrum of his headache making itself present. Oh, you did it now Dovepaw. ​

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thought speech​

 

[Flycatcher]

When he sees Dovepaw fall, concern flashing in his green eyes as he steps closer. The younger apprentice attempts to rise to his paws, claiming he is alright, but with how much he struggles Flycatcher has his doubts. "Are you sure?" Flycatcher pressed, looking at the apprentice warily. He's not sure if the young tom has been inflicted with the same disease spreading through ThunderClan's ranks or not, but regardless, he seems in a poor state. "Perhaps it would be better if Berryheart gives you a look over just to be safe?" Flycatcher suggests. He musters a reassuring smile, before adding, "It couldn't hurt."​

 

[Chicky]

Chickadeepaw nods hurriedly in response to Flycatcher's suggestion. Yes, please, Dovepaw. Too many cats are getting sick." She thinks of poor Sleekpaw, whose fever had exploded right in her face as they were wrestling less than a few sunrises ago. Now her heads pounds in response to the stress, an ever-present sort of ache that she hoped would subside the more cats turned out to be healthy rather than dead.

My brother will be alright, though, right StarClan? She flicks her eyes up to the heavens, if only for a moment, the vague urge to scream for her family's safety being overturned by her own hubris. ​

 

[STORMFEATHER]

Stormpaw's head whirled around at the sound of a light body thumping to the ground. There was Dovepaw, crumpled in the dirt, with her father and Chickadeepaw coming over to see what had happened. Stormpaw's easy blue gaze glanced around her surroundings. There was no evidence of some cat pushing him over, or even a little trip. Dovepaw's misery and scar-ridden pelt would make any cat opt to not torment him, so she hoped.

"Do you feel... sick?" She trotted over hesitantly, keeping her distance only because she did not know if fainting spells were common with the sickness. Her white paws remained rooted to the ground as she selfishly watched, hackles raised uncomfortably. When it comes down to it, do I value my own survival at the cost of ostracizing my Clanmates?

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[DOVEPAW!]

you want a battle ? i'll give you a war .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Dovepaw gave a small shake of his helm, biting his lip as hot shame ran down his neck, pooling into his stomach at the brief flickers of Thistlefang appearing, expression careful. “No. No. I, I’m not sick.” He mumbled, pressing an aching paw to his helm, nose crinkling at the dull throb. “J, Just tired.” He mumbled, clambering onto swaying paws, nearly tipping over from the heavy exhaustion weighing him down.

He was fine. He didn’t need to worry Berryheart over something like this. Dovepaw frowned, shaking his helm. Thistlefang wouldn’t like that. He never did like it when Dovepaw shuddered, asking if they could take a break, but he learned. Oh. He learned. He could still hear the awful words tossed his away just after Honeywish’s death, turning him into a blubbering mess of snort and tears until he got better at hiding the hurt.

“I’m alright.” He mumbled, letting torn ears tuck against his helm, withdrawing into himself, offering a tight-lipped smile. “My mentor needs me.” He uttered, fumbling on uneven paws towards Thistlefang, expression deadpan. He still felt nauseous, wanting to puke the rest of whatever he’d eaten, but he’d be fine. Nothing but a stupid mishap. It wouldn’t happen again. ​

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thought speech​