reflection | recovery

[LILYBLOOM.]

She had to get out. Not out of camp but out of the medicine den. It was too cramped, too stuffy, and too full of memories from her previous stint in a medicine den.

Lilybloom had only just begun to feel as though she were recovering from the battle. It had taken a while for things to sink in and for her to adjust to a world that was now permanently dark on one side. The first few days she had been so delirious with pain that she had asked Beesong and Ravenpaw countless times if somehow they could fix her sight if things would get better. Once the pain had slowly begun to subside, the reality of her new life sunk in. Most of her cuts would heal, but the cut across her right eye would not, serving as an additional reminder of what she lost. At least for the time being, it was hidden away by cobwebs and leaves so she wouldn't have to look at it if she caught her reflection. With not much else to do in the medicine den but rest and recover, she had a considerable amount of time to think about things.

She plotted her escape route carefully, waiting until Beesong and Ravenpaw were distracted before making her escape, though that in itself proved to be quite a task. Lilybloom hadn't walked much since the battle, mostly just to stretch her legs really. So trying to walk out of the medicine den was quite a feat and it was a miracle she didn't bump into or trip over another cat on her way out. Emerging out of the den, Lilybloom very unsteadily made her way to a shaded spot nearby, which was only a short distance away from the medicine den but feel like miles when she had to be mindful of where she was walking. With a small huff, Lilybloom plopped down outside, stretching out slightly as she did. She put her front paws in front of herself and rested her chin upon them, closing her eye for a brief moment. It seemed like hardly any time had passed, before she sensed a shadow passing over her and realised a cat must have been looking down at her. She opened one verdant eye, looking up at the cat who had approached her. "Oh, hello," She mewed, a little sheepishly from the prospect of getting caught outside of the den.​

 

[LAKEMOON]

LAKEMOON — me and the devil, walking side by side.
Seeing the tortoiseshell outside of the medicine den had been a bit of surprise to the silver warrior, who almost had half a mind to march up to her and demand she go back and rest.
Yet, white paws don’t budge from where they are settled nearby, instead Lakemoon takes a moment to watch her recovering mate with a slightly tipped head and thoughtful furrow of her brow.
It probably wasn’t healthy to be cooped up all of the time, even with such a trauma, the stars knew she had been restless after that forsaken rouge had sliced her face in two.
Besides, Lilybloom looked content, her eye lids fluttered closed, her ebony and fire gleaming under the suns light.
Lakemoon does approach, her shadow enough to catch the mollys attention as she settled beside her, feathered tail splaying behind her to drape over the others. "Don’t let Beesong catch you." Is her only advice, though her tone is not one of scolding or even chastising. Lakemoon found herself more amused by her sheepish look upon her being caught, if anything.
"speech"

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[FERNGILL]

One day he'd get justice for Lilybloom- he swore it. That sort of reasoning made it sound like she was dead, but... well, she'd been really hurt, he'd known that much. No longer was he of an age where others would sugarcoat the reality of how bad things really were. The unfixable state of Lilybloom's eye had been made clear, and... Fernpaw had felt the unfairness of it as if it had been his own, his chest writhing with the unfamiliar fire of anger. She hadn't deserved this- she'd never done anything wrong, she'd never stolen prey or trespassed or everything else the other Clans had done.

There was little Fernpaw felt he could do now to make her feel better- to fix the strange injustice the world had cast upon her. He'd resolved to find something that she'd like, something like her, and after a little bout of observant shore-frisking he'd retrieved it. A little black stone with brown freckles- it reminded him of the night-and-fire flecks of his older sister's pelt.

Grin clamped around his present, as soon as he spotted his sister he set it gently at her paws, glancing quickly to Lakemoon with gladness dancing in his pond-water gaze. She was... looking after Lilybloom too. "It, uh, looks like you," he hummed sweetly, fixing his eyes back upon his sister. It was... strange and disquieting to see her like that. Wrapped up... smelling like blood, a little bit. It didn't suit her- made him feel a little ill with how wrong it was, but he'd be strong. He had to be strong- had to be tough. ​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[iciclefang]

The younger tortoiseshell is hesitant, initially, to approach Lilybloom as she makes her first foray into camp since the battle. Her damaged eye is coated thickly with a poultice, and it's clear from her movements that she's still experiencing pain. Iciclepaw's gut feels cold at the sight of her older sister's once-beautiful face so terribly marred -- and for what? They no longer even had the bit of territory she'd lost part of her vision over.

She edges closer, watching Lakemoon take sentry beside Lilybloom, Fernpaw presenting their oldest sibling with a smooth, polished gift. She has nothing of the sort, and no real comfort to offer -- her mate has that covered, Iciclepaw figures.

She creeps closer, on soft paws, regarding Lilybloom warily. A memory flashes through her mind, of her sister in Beesong's den before, Iciclepaw as a much younger cat telling her, "I thought you knew how to swim." The tortoiseshell's claws slither from their pouches, but otherwise she appears calm.

"It's good to see you up." She settles beside her littermate, ice-colored eyes doing their best to avoid the damaged part of Lilybloom's face. "Are you... how are you feeling?" The words do not come easily to her; all she can think about is the rage that pulses hotly beneath her cool exterior. For a minnow, she'd return the favor to the ThunderClan warrior who'd done this to her sister.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[LILYBLOOM.]

Knowing that it's just Lakemoon come to investigate for a moment, Lilybloom is relaxed enough to close her eye again and keeps it closed whilst her mate sits beside her. When she makes a comment about not letting Beesong catch her, Lilybloom's whiskers twitch in amusement. "He won't even know I'm gone," She tells Lakemoon with far too much smugness for a cat who had practically stumbled her way outside. "I'm a master of stealth."

The sound of more pawsteps approaching, make Lilybloom open her eye again. She sees Fernpaw and Iciclepaw approach. Fernpaw is first, depositing a freckled stone at her paws that Lilybloom has to incline her head in a certain way to appreciate truly. "It's beautiful, Ferny," She compliments, giving her brother an appreciative nod. "Can you keep it safe for me whilst I am recovering? Once I am back in the warrior's den I'll find a place for it."

Her attention then flickers to Iciclepaw, who has edged closer and closer, but keeps close to Fernpaw. She asks how she's feeling, and Lilybloom had to think about that for a moment. "I try not to think about it too much," Lilybloom confessed after a moment, sucking in a breath as she does so. "My life will be so different now moving forward - it's a lot to process. But...all things considered, I feel well. Beesong's herbs help with the pain and the recovery. It's proving to be an adjustment moving around, however."​

 

[CLAYFUR]

Try as he might, Clay can’t keep himself far from the medic’s den for very long. His worry for his clanmates, for his niece who’s holed up there, overshadows whatever other tasks he’a meant to do. So it’s no surprise when the tom strides over to join the clanmates gathered outside of Beesong’s den, spotting Lakemoon and Lilybloom curled together, surrounded by the slightly smaller figures of Iciclepaw and Fernpaw.

At the very least, she’s still alive. Still breathing. He hasn’t lost her, hasn’t lost another cat who means the world to him. His love’s demise nearly took Clay as well, but if one of his sister’s kits were to die as well, so soon after… he doesn’t know how he’d go on. "Nice to see that Bee hasn’t bored you to death," he comments, voice soft as his gaze catches on Lily’s injury again. Like Smokethroat, she’ll never look the same again. She may recover fully, adjust to the blindness, but her kind face will be forever marred by the claws of a ThunderClanner.

Rage, white-hot, boils over in his chest, flooding his stomach with the force of it. She doesn’t deserve this. RiverClan doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve any of this. And it’s all… it’s all whose fault? WindClan, ThunderClan, SkyClan? RiverClan themselves? It feels as though his clan has offered itself up to help others so many times, only to be turned on by other clans with all the morality of a pack of rabid wolves. Lilybloom doesn’t deserve this injury.

He sucks in a deep breath, trying to shake the image of a little tortoiseshell kitten, eye torn from its socket, from his mind. Horrible. It’s horrible, what she’s going through. At least her mate is dedicated, sticking by her side, and her siblings have found their way to check on her as well—Fernpaw offers her a pebble, the sweet kid. "I’m glad you’re up and about. How much different is your vision now?" It’s half curiosity, half words spoken to focus on something else, to chase the newest surge of anger from his brain.
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[ YOU ARE THE STARS TO ME ]​

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[LAKEMOON]

LAKEMOON — me and the devil, walking side by side.
The amused roll of navy eyes is lost to Lilybloom as she goes back to her restful state.
"Of course you are." She hummed along in content agreement, taking the moment before her two younger siblings would arrive to give her a quick but affectionate lick behind the ear, PDA still a daunting prospect to the silver warrior.
When the duo of ginger and ebony do arrive, Lakemoon only offers them a small nod of her head in greeting, watching as Fernpaw shuffles a stone over to the eldest of the siblings.
Something sorrowful sparks in her heart, deep under the scarring surface.
She can ignore it, she will.
They are angry, Iciclepaw and Fernpaw, Lakemoon can tell as much from the way the molly struggles to speak steady and the toms lingering gaze on Lilybloom’s bandages. Whilst never the empathetic one of the bunch, Lakemoon could relate, fury did boil softly within her, resentment that the battle had happened in the first place- when Thunderclan had been akin to vultures, picking off what Windclan had already battered.
Subtly, she instinctively shifts closer to the mottled warrior beside her, unnoticeable to the now three cats around them, but the soft warmth that still radiated from Lilybloom enough to get Lakemoon to exhale.
Switching off auto pilot, she flicks her ear as she brings herself back into the conversation, just as Clayfur asks his own question.
Lakemoon does not look at him, though not out of malice or ill-will, simply because she can’t. She still see’s her kins blood stained to his jaw, the killer behind normally kind eyes.
Her avoidance is undetectable, her expression still as unreadable as ever as she rests her own head on her paws.
"Well, we’re here for you. For everything." She speaks once more, the warmth evident in a habitually sharp tone as she speaks to her mate.

"speech"

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