private SCATTERED AND LOST 𓆩♡𓆪 TALLULAHWING, FIREFLYPAW

[DAWNGLARE]

Dawnglare is reluctant to do anything without keeping an acute eye on their patient. Ragged breathing; fogginess in the eyes. Dawnglare had worked a pulp of catmint and feverfew down her throat the day before. The frightened thing in him had hoped with it, and with rest, Tallulahwing would rise the next day, eyes free to reflect the bright sky above them; nothing weighing her down internally or otherwise. She would jostle with the morning dawn and insist she had no need to be here. His fur could lie flat, knowing that if the sickness persisted amongst others, at least he knew what it was, and what to do.

None of that happened, though. She is as bogged down as yesterday, hunched over in a nest Dawnglare had made ready for her as SkyClan's warriors hastily dragged her within his den. He knew catmint was not always a one - time, immediate cure. Still, " Something should've happened, " he hisses between teeth; lip curled in a discontented sneer, eyes wide with unconcealed distress. " What is the matter with you? " he resists the urge to pace within a place so confined, restraining himself only to lashes of his tail. Red willow makes some of herb strewn across him floor jostle with the sudden gust of air.

Tail tip alight, the tom digs through his store– the chaos easily discernable to the one who made it. He can tell she's alight with fire by the warmth of her ears and dryness of her nose. Rolled beneath his paw is feverfew, the blank petals ripe in this season. " Can you get her to speak, Fireflypaw? We need to know– know exactly what is wrong. " The headache it would spare him, if she could simply say. The fact that she struggles too is what worries him the most, in fact. " Is her throat sore? When has she eaten last? Fetch her something, " Or, would he have to chew her food for her too? Dawnglare cringes at the thought, eyes falling askance.

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

• OOC: BRO IS PANICKING!! @TALLULAHWING @Fireflypaw

• 

• ( 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

​

 

[TALLULAHWING]

Her fever has lowered, with Dawnglare’s pulp, just enough to flutter her eyelids when he addresses her. He is like a demon, red-furred and long-fanged, and she feels her heart patter as she answers him in a distant voice: “Can you… make this stop?” Her voice is a rasp, her eyes glassy and unfocused. She looks through Dawnglare, into something unseen—something that isn’t there at all, twining snakes and descending clouds. She spares Fireflypaw a weak glance, but she doesn’t see him, either, not really. After a few heartbeats, Tallulahwing fades again, eyelids sheathing watery yellow eyes. Her ribs rise and fall with shallow, aching breaths.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

 

[Fireflyglow]

To quell the anxieties inside of him, Fireflypaw settles for tapping his paw on the ground in rhythmic fours- one, two, three, four. Good, again. Over and over again until Dawnglare's annoyance becomes obvious in the form of huffy and puffy sounds that remind him of a panting badger. Fireflypaw's massive body shifts in position, a paw gently stroking over Tallulahwing's back to attempt to keep her awake through the sickening fever. He's thankful the Feverfew did it's job (kind of), her body temperature went down just slightly enough for her to be able to fight this sickness off (he hoped so, at least.). But as Dawnglare orders him to keep the daylight warrior talking, Fireflypaw frowns down sightlessly at the molly as he begins to hum for her.

"Wake up, wake uup.~" Sing-song and gentle, though not exactly the most helpful in the world. He does his best to prod the warrior awake, to keep her from fluttering her eyes closed again and again. Though, soon enough he gives in and looks towards his mentor with another frown. Deep-set and upset. "Perhaps. Perhaps." He mumbles to himself, standing up to go fetch something small for the femme. His nose pushes through the fresh-kill pile, digging through it to find something.. Small, yet soft to eat. Less bones to crunch on. A mouse would work perfectly. He pulls the small thing from the pile, sniffing softly as he pads back to the familiar bush he called home.

"Dinner's here, Tal. Time to wake uuup.~" He chimes softly, dropping the still-warm mouse at the molly's head so she could attempt to eat it. But instead, he listens as she dozes back off into unconsciousness. Worry bites at him. "Is there anything we could give her to keep her awake?" He asks softly, head tilting. Curious, indeed..​

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

 

[TALLULAHWING]

The medicine cat and his apprentice bicker, murmur, fret, whisper over her. Tallulahwing is vaguely aware of something tiny and gray pushed in front of her, limp and cold as she feels. “Dinner time,” the seal point all but sings in her ear. She twitches, her stomach clenching against the idea. Her fever has returned—her flesh is hot under her thick fur and she feels herself trembling with discomfort and pain. “Please…”

Again, clouded yellow eyes seek Dawnglare as though he is withholding the cure from her. She shifts in her nest like a mass of broken joints and dull torbie fur. “My…” Her housefolk. They will never know what came of her, and she gasps with pain. Somewhere in the thickening fog of her brain, she can hear them calling to her in that high pitched voice. Lulu, Lulu, here kitty kitty! She sweats, her tears beginning to streak her cheeks. “Housefolk…” They won’t know what she’s saying, but she tries, pressing her forepaw to her throat—to where her ribbon had been shorn.

Her breathing grows raspy and forced. She hopes Dawnglare or Fireflypaw understand—she hopes they understand that the ribbon should go to them, that they should understand she cannot return for them, that StarClan is watching her. A cat is in the den with them, looking at her with silver-crusted eyes full of sorrow and innate wisdom. She stares at them, then her body shudders, and the life leaves her.
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[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​