private ROTTING WOOD, ROTTING SOMETHING [✦] ravensong

[CICADAFLIGHT]

✦₊ ⊹—— the ache in his head is near-constant. he does not know its source—how could he, in his youth—but he knows it is endless and it is painful. the soreness settles into the spot where his jaw joins his head, below drooping ears, into the points of his temples, the split-toned spot between his eyes. it rises and falls like the currents of the river; some days the pain welling in his head is the barest trace of a foamy storm-cloud, leaving vision clear and limbs animate. some days it is a throbbing hurricane pressed against his jaw until he thinks his head will split open like a fish's belly and spill the pain out like guts—some days he is left to curl beneath the wilting ferns and wait for it to recede like the tide.

today, the waters within his head are dark and stormy, foaming until they might spill over and drain his pulsing thoughts out with them. the boy is reduced to laying limp beneath the shade of the ferns, too aching to even watch the camp as he usually does. white paws - one merely dipped, the other creeping up his leg in spires and spikes - press against his head, small claws pressing and lifting rhythmically. not quite enough to draw blood, of course—only the stars know what his fathers might do if they saw him bloody—but they flex against his temples, hoping that this might drain the pressure somehow and the pain along with it. to any observer who spots him, it is a strange sight; a kit of three moons, face twisted and gnarled in pain as he quite literally claws at his head.

I AM GOD (✦) 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑰 𝑵𝑬𝑬𝑫 𝑻𝑶 𝑩𝑬 𝑫𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑶𝒀𝑬𝑫

• ooc: @RAVENSONG !!
  
• disclaimer: it's important to note that cicadakit is not always in a stable state of mind. his view of the world may not always be accurate to objective reality, which may include seeing things that are not genuinely there, reading motivations or thoughts from actions that are not actually implied, and making assumptions or jumping to conclusions. this is not an attempt at metagaming, powerplaying, or mischaracterization, and is not legitimately true or correct to reality or what your characters actually think or believe.
  
  it will always be noted in the post if he is seeing something that isn't actually there. all opinions & thoughts are ic only and do not reflect my thoughts and opinions as a writer.
• 
  — cicadakit
  — he/him ; kit of riverclan ; 3 ☾s
  — "speech" ; thoughts ; attacks
  — penned by dejavu
  

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[RAVENSONG]

He is no stranger toward the torments of the mind—having suffered from them without finding an absolute cause. Perhaps there was something wrong within his marrow and blood, something that he had not wrought against himself. That is a comforting thought, Ravensong prefers to think he is a victim of circumstances rather than being the cause of his own pain. At least he can scold something other than himself for suffering.

And the medicine cat is observant, though perhaps not to a degree of Snakeblink, and notices the corspe-like kitten wilting under a clump of ferns. He recognizes the way paws claw uselessly at the skull and his lips curl as he thinks how much of a fool the black and white thing is. To think that this sort of hurt is something he can claw and bite.

Ravensong feels stiff and unclenches his jaw. His paws move across the camp and he pauses by Cicadakit's haven. His own angular features look down on the kit, eyes half-closed. "Headache?" He asks.

☾₊ ⊹ темная ночь — dark is the night

•  
• 
  RAVENSONG of RIVERCLAN
  — LH BLACK POLYDACTYL MALE (CARRYING CINNAMON, DILUTE) a tall, slender creature with pitch-black feathery fur, large ears, and a sharply angled skull held up in an aloof manner. smells of dried herb, speaks with a low and rumbly accent and walks with an elegant slinking gait.
  
  — born in twolegplace and orphaned at a young age, he joined riverclan at its inception and began training as a drypaw warrior known for a bitter temperment until beesong made him his medicine cat apprentice. after his mentor's untimely death, he had been named ravensong at the moonstone, young heart revitalized with anger and guilt. he is a somber and thorough medicine cat that guards every word spoken in the confines of his den.
  
  — secretly loves "the stars but not so much what inhabits them"
  — openly suffers from chronic migraines
  — single, but "it's complicated"

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