camp run away to the moon - sick

[tigerwing]

In and out of sleep. Tossing in the apprentices den, then next thing the girl knew she was walking through an all too bright forest. Birds sang a chorus, frogs croaked in tune, and butterflies danced with grace in the breeze. Her body waddled, her form small and innocent still, with big curious green eyes as a butterfly landed on her nose.

Turning over, a flash of lightning struck a tree, the rain poured hard, thunder rolled across the sky, and her fur cling to her shivering form. "Momma help!" The call was not just in her dream, her breaths hoarse as her words uttered past her sleeping forms lips. Whispers and whimpers came from the cold and shivering apprentice, even as the night was warm.

The night seemed to last forever for the tortie, waking up from a final dream in heavy pants that pained her throat, and in a bed thrown astray. The den was relatively empty, most apprentices already up and moving about. A paw slid over her face, her lips quivering from recovering from dreams that shown danger and fear, and made her wake up feeling lonely.

All alone in a big dangerous world.

Tigerpaw struggled to get on her paws, her belly rumbling and rolling like the thunder that rippled across the sky. Her sight shook and shuddered, in and out of consciousness. She could barely sleep lately, she could barely eat. Her mouth felt as if she had not drank anything in moons, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth as she tried to build up saliva that would not come.

She'd press herself through the entrance of the den, blinded by the sudden light, and her gaze adjusting slowly. Something incomprehensible escaped her lips, her vision blurry and unfocused as she watched others move through camp like busy bees.

Bodies were entering and leaving camp, shuffling through and doing what they needed to. But she couldn't pull her mind through on what she needed to do quite yet, assuming exhaustion was just needed to get worked out of her body as she stumbled forward.

And from the corner of her eye, she seen her. A ginger pelt, a skinny form, her breath caught. "M-mama?" It was a little louder this time, but her throat felt like it was being ripped as they escaped her lips.

"Mama! You came back!" A screech that burned like red hot liquid through the girls throat as she scrambled and raced to where the other was. "Mama I kn-knew you'd come back!"

Unfortunately, what the rest of the cats nearby would see was not what the young girl saw. Instead of the ginger form that stood in shock in her vision, the chocolate and scarred body of Oakfang would be there. Her burning hot to the touch form would collapse before even having the ability to greet who she believed was her mother. "Mom-mma... I do-dont feel so... good.. I'm jus... so happy to see you again.."

​

 

[OAKFANG]

don't try to rush your enemies .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The brown-smoked warrior didn’t know how to respond, watching with widened hues as the little apprentice called out for someone that wasn’t there. His heart pinged in sympathy, expression wavering as he padded up to the feverish apprentice, resting a cooling paw to her helm in what little comfort he could offer because really his charm wouldn’t be able to pull him out of this one. “Rest.” He soothed, turning his helm in search of Berryheart, expression hallowed, unlike the normal quip of his lips in a smile that seemed like a permanent fixture now remained grim.

He wondered just how many they’d lose to this plague, and then briefly wondered how Whitelion would take it. He breathed. No time for that. He pulled away, turning to the nearest cat. “I’ll find Berryheart.”

He didn’t waste time, calling out for the medicine cat. “Tigerpaw is sick.” He’d offer, when finding the medicine cat, retreating to the delirious apprentice. “She assumed I was her mother before she collapsed.” He sighed, smokey tail curling.

/ @BERRYHEART ​

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thought speech​

 

[BERRYHEART]

It was sad to look upon the delirious, to know the he had nothing to truly cure them with. Empty-pawed, unblessed by lungwort's frosty petals... he hoped daily to find some boon, some anomaly, in the forest. Never was he successful, so with honey and feverfew he would stick. Now, the tremble of stress was beginning to make itself known in his eyes.

Even if his face did not change, his heart often did, and more than ever Berryheart was scared. His apprentice lay sick, unable to lend his paws to the cause, unable to move. To the stars every night he prayed for no more, no more, but it was useless and he knew it. Why now was he concerning himself with rituals, something he'd never bothered with before? Inefficient practices? He knew they were such, for he knew StarClan had done all that they could for him, for his apprentice, and for...

"Bring her here," Berryheart said, voice as monotone as ever but holding a certain hollowness. He was tired.

She assumed I was her mother before she collapsed. It was delirium- they all knew it. Berryheart had no need to say it aloud, and thus did not. Busying himself, he slipped back into his den, concerned only with preparing another nest before he went back to watching the rise and fall of ribs. ​

PENNED BY PIN ☾​