- May 31, 2023
- 233
- 71
- 28
Their medicine cat is ill. More than that, Wolfsong is ill; Wolfsong, a cat whom she had once imagined so indomitable, struck down by sickness. He has been in WindClan since before she was born. Even when the reality of his illness stares them both in the face, she still struggles to picture him downed, struggles harder to picture him gone completely. It is not a possibility she likes to consider. Still, it eats at the back of her mind — Quietcrow has already perished, and while she feels her strength return with each sunrise, all of that brute force cannot ensure Wolfsong's safety. Only Celandinepaw, Cottonsprig, or the tom himself have the skill to save him. It is a reality that Scorchstorm cannot easily swallow.
But what can she do anyway? Strength returning or not, she is trapped in the same damned badger sett as him. She cannot bring him food, cannot even think to hunt for him (and what good would she be anyway, imagining rabbits on the moorlands). For all of Scorchstorm's strengths, she can wield none of them here. All she can do is sit and wait, helpless to prevent yellowcough from overtaking a cat she holds dear.
It is one chilly autumn morning that sense rekindles its fire. The ember-mottled molly blinks against the light that trickles reluctantly into the badger sett. The wind has shoved the scent of damp soil and crisp leaf decay into her nose, and the smell alone reminds her of setting off for the journey, the first clandestine conversations she'd had with Luckypaw, back when the mountains had only been teeth in the horizon's maw. StarClan, has it been four seasons since then? It is a sad sort of shock that tells her yes, that their lungwort supply is warrior-aged, that the damned sickness had come back for its anniversary celebration. It twists her stomach — and then it releases.
Wolfsong had once spun tales for her. She thinks she ought to repay the favor. With a small cough, she dares to rasp, "Wolfsong, would you like a story?" The warrior's white-tipped tail curls around her muscular heft. She tucks her paws beneath her body as she re-settles herself, ears pricking towards the elder tom for a reply. "I will tell you about the journey, if you would like. It has been four seasons since we set off."
But what can she do anyway? Strength returning or not, she is trapped in the same damned badger sett as him. She cannot bring him food, cannot even think to hunt for him (and what good would she be anyway, imagining rabbits on the moorlands). For all of Scorchstorm's strengths, she can wield none of them here. All she can do is sit and wait, helpless to prevent yellowcough from overtaking a cat she holds dear.
It is one chilly autumn morning that sense rekindles its fire. The ember-mottled molly blinks against the light that trickles reluctantly into the badger sett. The wind has shoved the scent of damp soil and crisp leaf decay into her nose, and the smell alone reminds her of setting off for the journey, the first clandestine conversations she'd had with Luckypaw, back when the mountains had only been teeth in the horizon's maw. StarClan, has it been four seasons since then? It is a sad sort of shock that tells her yes, that their lungwort supply is warrior-aged, that the damned sickness had come back for its anniversary celebration. It twists her stomach — and then it releases.
Wolfsong had once spun tales for her. She thinks she ought to repay the favor. With a small cough, she dares to rasp, "Wolfsong, would you like a story?" The warrior's white-tipped tail curls around her muscular heft. She tucks her paws beneath her body as she re-settles herself, ears pricking towards the elder tom for a reply. "I will tell you about the journey, if you would like. It has been four seasons since we set off."
- ooc. @WOLFSONG ; setting retro to her recovery & retro to bluef / cotton kitting!
-
SCORCHSTORM —— warrior of windclan, mentored by sunstar & badgermoon . scorchstreak x badgermoon . littermate to rumblerain, frostwind, and luckypaw ✦ penned by meghan
✦ a broad-shouldered tortoiseshell with low white and dual-toned amber eyes. extremely loyal to sunstar and her family, and enjoys a deep connection to the moorlands
✦ demigirl / she they pronouns / lesbian / 17 moons & ages every 1st
✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
—— will start fights / will not flee / may show mercy. fights honorably and with great ferocity. can tank a few hits, but is not the sturdiest cat in windclan. starts fights with the intention of finishing them permanently, but will not aim to maim or kill obviously young cats
✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
-