pocket full of posy ⚘ sick

[Dandelionwish]

Since the patrol to RiverClan he'd felt strangely lightheaded, but surely it wasn't hunger. If anything he felt less hungry lately than he normally did and Dandelionwish was a fairly big eater most of the time; a quick metabolism from his moorland made body and long limbs. Dandelionwish sits perched near the edge of camp, folded up and waiting patiently for the rest of the patrol he was to go on to return from their hunt; a quiet debate on whether or not to force something down despite his stomach's immediate rejection of any kind of sustenance.
The chocolate and cream tom sighs wistfully, then goes to inhale and finds he struggles to do so as though their is something clogging his nose and when he opens his mouth that too fails to give him the gulp of air he wants. Something was wrong. He stands then, staggers upward and the sudden shift in elevation sends his head spinning and a tightness wells in his chest.
Dandelionwish wheezes, gasps, tries to get air in and out desperately but its almost labored - he feels as though he has run miles choking on dry air and he hunches over with his muzzle nearly touching the ground. Breath. Breath slow. It's fine, just take a step and get to Dawnglare. Irritating tom that he was, he'd help him figure out what was the issue.
Decision made he forces his head up, raises a paw and promptly crumples forward onto the ground chest heaving and claws digging into the earth below him in a wild panic as though he's afraid of slipping off the world itself.
The ex-WindClanner can barely even get a breathe in let alone any words, mismatched eyes wide and bloodshot darting from side to side to find any cat he can will to look in his direction and he is reminded suddenly of Tallulahwing's trembling and choking form; battered ribbon and delirious pleas. No. Surely not. If he had it then what did that mean?
His mind flashes back to the badger set, sickly bodies and skeletal frames with hollowed eyes stare back at him pleadingly. No catmint for corpses, the scent of sick thick in the air; he cant speak now gasping through every pained drag of air but if he could he'd pray to StarClan this was not like the greencough outbreak he had dealt with so long ago that still haunts his dreams.

​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

Tallulahwing is gone. Sheepcurl and Mouser are sick, worsening by the day. He’s heard other cats—Flowercloud, Mountainheart—have begun to show symptoms of whatever this mystery illness is. And now Blazestar sees Dandelionwish, sprawled in the general direction of Dawnglare’s den and wheezing with every movement. “Let me help you,” he murmurs, quick on his paws, his heart full and heavy in his mouth like a stone. “Here—I can get you to Dawnglare.” Blazestar uses the weight and bulk of his body to try and shoulder Dandelionwish to unsteady paws.

“…How bad is it? Do you recognize it? From… from before?” It had been Dandelionwish, when he’d been WindClan’s medicine cat, who’d asked Dawnglare for the catmint the first time. He had been refused then, and WindClan cats had perished of the illness, but—but Dawnglare had said the catmint leaves had not touched Tallulahwing’s disease. “You’ll be okay,” he murmurs, resolute. The next cat to pass him by, he will tell them, “Tell Dawnglare and Fireflypaw to prepare a nest for him.”

@DAWNGLARE @Fireflypaw he’s helping Dandy to the medicine cat’s den :)

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — blaise . blazestar
  — he/him ; leader of skyclan
  — pansexual ; divorced ; single
  — longhaired flame point Ragdoll with blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Mercibun

​

 

[Fireflyglow]

Fireflypaw lifts his head from Sheepcurl's sleeping body as his father manages to shoulder his way over to his den, shaking out his fur in response to the smell of sickness in the air. It's thick, stomach-dropping- Fireflypaw finds himself to be hesitant to aid the former medicine cat if only for the fact that his father seems to trust him now. Precious herbs, precious herbs that WindClan had stolen in a time of need.

"Put him in this nest, please." It's a simple request, his eyes still downturned towards Sheepcurl before he hobbles over to Dandelionwish's side if his father managed to settle him down. His expression is neutral at first, as if at war with himself, before he attempts to press his pawpad to Dandelionwish's nose to see if it was dry. "You will not perish, my friend." He hums softly, head turning in the direction of where Dawnglare is. His paw gently brushes over Dandelionwish's ears, feeling the heat beneath them. "Feverish, breathing sounds harsh. Yup, same symptoms." He remarks with a frown, ghostly pale hues turning to his father with a worried look.

"Can I.. Can I talk to you in a moment, Blazestar?" He asks hesitantly.​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 12 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[CHALK]

⭒✧ The rattle of wet lungs caught Chalk’s attention just as the mouse he’d been carrying hit the prey pile. He hadn’t paid much mind to Dandelionwish when entering camp, but the frail shape the hazel-tip tom embodied on second glance pulled him closer immediately. Cats had been ferried to the medicine den at an alarming frequency and though he hadn’t been present when Tallulahwing had passed, her loss coloured his fears about the sickness significantly. The daylight warrior had been one of the first Skyclanners Chalk had truly seen, directing Shelter escapees out with precision. He knew that illness was unresponsive to a strong will but still, it shocked him.

Blazestar met the coughing warrior before he did and the contact the leader made gave Chalk pause. Was that really safe? The large tom queried Dandelionwish, perhaps hesitantly, and the weight of the questions were lost on him. At Blazestar’s direction to find one of the medicine cats however, clarity webbed through Chalk’s thoughts. He turned to the medicine den, whiskers tight.

Fireflypaw was prepared for them, a nest already prepared. Pressed into the foliage to allow the leader and sick cat inside, the scent of sickness in the den stood out even further. Chalk had never been ill, the worst he’d felt was after the Cutter under twoleg care. A slick nose, clogged throat- what could a cat even do? His curiosity was fierce, and a little desperate.

A little too quickly, to cut in before the others began to speak, he meowed, "If you need anything-" the tip of his tail crimped behind his stiff ears, "-let me know."​

⭒ ———————————— ✧⭒​

 

[MALLOWLARK]

Mallowlark often kept an instinctual eye upon Dandelionwish. The odd-eyed chimera had been one of the few who'd treated him like a Clanmate from the moment he'd crossed the border into the pine forest; though. maybe that was just because they'd not-too-long before been Clanmates on the moors. Both of them had escaped to the same place- Dandelionwish for a second chance at the life Sootstar had tried to take from him, and Mallowlark to seize the life with Dawnglare that he had been yearning for.

The rattling cough was hollow, easily picked out. Mallowlark remembered, during leaf-bare in WindClan, teetering with seizing coughs atop a rock, Dandelionwish looking on without enough resources to cure him. He had struggled past that illness to stagger to his and Dawnglare's meeting place- it had been a silver lining to a poisoned situation, as that night he and Dawnglare had spoken the love they both knew about aloud. But- but Dandelionwish had that, now. He had Butterflytuft. There would be no silver lining here- this could only mean approaching death.

For once, Mallowlark could not make peace with that.

Once before, he had thought Dandelionwish was dead. Had doubted that the tom had struggled past the odds, away from the blood-ravenous chomps of the Windclanners on his tail. To find him amongst the pines again had been relieving- so now, to see him even from afar being ferried into the medicine den, stumbling and gasping. Blazestar had rushed to his side, but the sight of the leader's aid was only momentarily soothing. He listlessly trailed after them, giving them some distance.

Shuddering his body, a sudden sob hissed out from between his fangs. "Dandelionwish..." was all he could say, the name croaky, mournful, fretful. His smile wobbled, close-lipped and labouring to remain plastered on his face. No, no- he couldn't show that he was worried, couldn't show that he felt pessimistic. So he smiled and smiled, no teeth shown and eyes shot wide and tearful, trying to keep up a faltering facade.​

☺PENNED BY PIN​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

Sleepy gait – there is no moment for rest admist the plague and its victims. Dawnglare is a wide - eyed mess, eyes dry enough to think he himself a victim of sickness — and wouldn’t that just be ridiculous? *Impossible, even, and yet mysteriously, his mind still entertains this possibility. Sniffs of sickness – sniffles, he supposes– bring a terrified shudder wrackling against his spine, marrow burried - deep clanging in erroneous noise. Of course that’s all in his head, of course– but the earth - pointed tom creeping closer leant on the shoulder of a once - friend certainly was not.

Alarming. It’s alarming for more than one reason. A WindClanner in his den– and he’s sure that moons ago, this is precisesly what the snake would of wanted. Dawnglare resists the urge to snap his jaws at the moorland rat. And if not at him– then at the one he rests on. He could no longer expect good things from this sun - bleached face, and even in the wake of things infinitely more important, the Medicine Cat cannot help but stagger. Prey animal blinded in the light of the sun– but is all cold smiles, now. A freezing leaf - bare, but the tragedy is all his own. Oh, what was he thinking?.

Dawnglare seizes strangely, and for once, he is happy with his apprentice taking precedent, nosing the wretched along with mild words. The moment he is back to himself is clear; small shudder and flurried bat of the eyes. He curls toward his apprentice oddly at the declaration that this was any such friend. But that was a problem for another day. (Always a problem for another day: and such was why they were such a star - forsaken mess.) He twitches. " Reallly? " Two questions in one, and he suspected the nuisance would answer neither such one. He resists the urge to claw at his own pelt, or that of the WindClanner’s, for that matter, despite how stress - relieving he truly things he would find it.

He swallows a laugh borne of stress. His head snaps too quick to the next interruption. " I need you to - to be healthy, you know. I insist, even, " Nervous giggling punctures his words.

And he spots him – the one who made this all worth it – with similar sentiments said with his eyes. A cry– and Dawnglare is all dry - mouth and wide eyes. He would abandon all that stood between them, if he could. Endless spiral of something. Oh, he did not want to be here. The fact that he cares (why does he care?) makes him want to shred him to ribbons.

He doesn’t, though.

He still looks at Mallowlark as if he had almost done something horrible. And another world away, he feels that he has. Lump in his throat, he stares at Dandelionwish as he might a spirit, hiss caught on his tongue, but never slipping free. Mysteriously, and horrifyingly, he is smothered in the senseless desire to keep him breathing. His face aches with his sunken frown, and he hates to give his mate suck a dreadful look. He thinks – they’re even. He thinks so. " You too. Please. You too. "

Dawnglare would level his apprentice with a weary frown, but say no more; gone away, away, to shift through his dwindling supplies.

OOC 𓆩♡𓆪 7.18.2023 𝘚𝘠𝘕𝘖𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎

• OOC: sorry this is SO late!!

• 

• ( 𝙒𝙃𝙔'𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙎𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂? ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  —— He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  —— Currently 54 moons old. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  

  Currently in an era of questioning; upset and uncomfortable by things he should not be.​

  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

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