seeing spots | vitiligo, pafp

[Peachpaw.]

It started slowly at first. So slowly in fact, that Peachpaw hadn't even noticed the white spots that were beginning to dapple her gray and orange pelt, always dismissing the ones she saw out of the corner of her eye as just a bit of snow here or there. But today, as she leaned down to groom her tail, she was startled to see that the white spots stayed put. Not only that, but they seemed bigger than they had been when she'd first noticed them. Heart pounding, she glanced around before hurrying toward the medicine den.

"Uh...Beesong?" she called, shuffling her paws nervously. "I think I might be sick. I'm..." she trailed off. "Turning white?" She didn't feel sick. She felt the same as she always had. But she'd never had any white before, which made the sudden appearance of white speckling all the more alarming to her.

@BEESONG

 

[BEESONG]

a meek voice calls into his den, and beesong perks from his crouched position at his herb store. he meets peachpaw at the entrance of the hollow, tilting his head as she explains to him that she thinks she's sick. lips purse into a thin line, the healer sniffing tentatively at the air- no stench of sickness surrounds peachpaw, like it had apricotflower. "are you-"

peachpaw cuts them off by accident. she's turning white, she says. that's when beesong's shoulders relax by a fraction, puffing out a laugh that billows into the cold air. not sick, they realize. they've seen this before, once or twice in the pine colony and even in riverclan, with smokethroat- a cat suddenly sprouting random white hairs, scattered across their body. they have no idea what the cause is, but the white spots seem to be nothing more than a cosmetic anomaly. "growing old so soon? afraid i don't have any herbs for that," they jest, before their voice dips into a more serious tone. "you're not sick- some cats, for whatever reason, start turning white as they age. it doesn't seem to affect anything other than their fur, so you should be fine... as long as you don't feel any different." their eye narrows suddenly, regarding peachpaw with a questioning expression that dares her to lie about any symptoms she might be having. don't be as stubborn as apricotflower, if you're truly feeling unwell.​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

The stillness disorients him, he misses the rushing river at his paws and the breeze through his fur that the tall reeds prevent from reaching him. Perhaps its a starsend with how chilly the air is but he longs to be out and about once more and more but he's not an idiot and his sensibilities are intact. Its up to a cat with for more knowledge on the wounds and weariness of the world to tell him when he's able to go and right now said cat was chuckling in amusement.
Smokethroat's lone orange eye opened, a burst of fire admist the coals and he lifts his head slowly to regard the harried apprentice there in Beesong's den. She didn't look hurt, thankfully, but there was a worry in her green eyes he couldn't help but note. The medicine cat was just finishing explaining to her that her fur would be fine when he noticed the white flecks. The dark tom had not paid much attention to Peachpaw (she was not his child nor his apprentice) but he was aware enough to note those spots weren't always there. His nose wrinkled in amusement, he could not refrain from giving a snort of a sound in mirth at the apprentice's woes because they so eerily echoed his own before.
"Ah finally, another cat blessed by StarClan. Wait til you start seeing visions of the future-it's fun..." That one orange eye fluttered lightly before he realized that winking was now something he was not capable of doing given the circumstances. One tended to need two eyes for it. "I jest, it's nothing...just...white fur. Mine started around your age too I believe? Five? Six moons? Started with my paw." He stretched lazily, extending out his right foreleg where each toe was dipped in white that lightly spotted around the middle of his leg too before speckling his shoulder. "Thought I was dying at first." Moss had certainly not been very sympathetic to his plight, examining his paw before telling him to stop bothering her unless it fell off. "But you'll be fine, I've had them this long and they've not bothered me. Well..except this one...it's just....stupid looking."
The very blatantly heart-shaped spot on his stomach was never going to not bother him and if anyone pointed it out in passing he'd swat them for it.
​

 

[Peachpaw.]

Peachpaw's eyes grew round as the medic teased her about growing old, but her fur quickly laid flat again as he assured her that she wasn't sick and that it was just a thing that happened sometimes. She supposed that she didnt feel any different, not really. Apart from the now dissipating alarm, she felt the same as she always did. Her pelt began to grow hot with embarrassment, and she let out a shaky sigh of relief.

"O-oh," she stammered, looking down at the white spots that had begun to dapple her legs. "Well, if you're really sure it's not serious...Thank you, Beesong. Sorry for bothering you." The healer certainly had more important things to do than listen to her fret over something that wasn't serious. And then Smokethroat appeared, talking about seeing visions of the future, and Peachpaw narrowed her eyes at him until he too, admitted that he was only joking.

Pleased to know that she was not, in fact, dying, she padded forward to get a better look at the heart shaped white spot on the warrior's stomach. "I like it," she told him, "I think it looks nice." She glanced over her shoulder at more of her white patches. "Maybe someday I'll have one shaped like that."

 

[FERNGILL]

Sometimes Fernpaw could not help but listen. The conversations of others wasn't something he always found interesting, but when his endeavours of collection had run out of steam there wasn't much more interesting than talking to others! And- to talk to others, you had to listen first. One of these listening moods struck him as he listened to the conversation between Peachpaw, Beesong and Smokethroat- and for a moment he was concerned. Peachpaw better be alright- she was kind, and kind people didn't deserve to be ill.

The tiny tom made his way over upon hearing that she was alright, hearing that... she was just going white. That was cool, how your fur could change as you aged! He'd seen no one else his age have something like that happen, and the impressive nature of such an 'ailment' lit his bug-eyes aglow with daylight. "I think yours looks nice too, Peachpaw!" he chirped, smile upon his fishlike face. "Like- like its snowing, but on you!"

Maybe not the best compliment. But like most things that left Fernpaw's maw, it was at least sincere.​

( penned by pin )​

 

[Pinepaw]

"nothing but pain on the edge of a knife"​

The tabby had just been leaving Beesong’s check on the scrape across his nose when the cream-colored she-cat had burst into the den. He tilted his head at her concern, and found himself relieved when the medicine cat said it was nothing to worry about. Despite knowing these cats for so little time, he found himself caring for them. He kept his head down in respect as he left Beesong’s space, hoping that one day they might care for him despite who he was.​

✦ ★ ✦​

 

[DogTeeth]

I think I saw Peachpaw go see Beesong,

That sentence damn near caused the warrior to seize up and die there. His chest hammers, his paws stutter under his sudden sprint. He chews on the inside of his cheek hard as he halts behind the group rallied around his daughter, their chatter is light and there are no traces of panic. Only Dogteeth’s of course. " excuse me honey " he whispers kindly as he weaves around Pine exiting the den.

She doesn’t look hurt, she and Smokethroat were looking at his fur. Where the strange patches sprout and bleed into patterns, losing their pigment for some unknown reason.

" What’s wrong with my baby? " he pushes forward softly and instantly presses a paw to the blue and ginger apprentice’s temple gently . Searching for fever with a hammering heart. " what’s- … " he’s confused, and looks to Fernpaw then Beesong.
​

OOC INFO REF

• —
  
  
• — Dogteeth
  — twenty-five moons
  — voice ref
  — warrior of Riverclan
  — gay | crushing on n/a
  — small curly-furred blonde and tan tom with blue eyes.
  — very gentle soul / easily upset and sensitive
  — deals a nasty bite
  BIOGRAPHY——— ✧
  
• 
  
  

​

 

[SMOKESTAR]

"I'd give it to you if I could." Imagine, trading spots like some cats tossed rocks back and forth; it was almost comical, "But Fernpaw is right, they look fine on you-" Anything else he might've said was interupted by the golden blur of a harried tom pressing into the den, his lone orange eye narrowing as he spots Pine making his exit and makes a mental note to check in on that new kit later; he'd been too caught up in this whole...dying affair.
"Your baby is an apprentice, Dogteeth, and she did what she should've done when she was worried about something." She came to Beesong, which was a lot more than he could say for half the clan really. Peachpaw may be the smarted one among them.
"She's got spots." Simple as that. No blood, no broken parts, no sickness, no real issue. Kid was just dusted in a fine sprinkle of white now and would have to adapt to her looks and nothing further. At least it was not as visible on her coat as it had been on his; when he'd awoken with a white paw one day he had been in fits for the entirety of it until he realized that if it was meant to harm him it probably would've already.
Supposed it was no different than a cat born with no tail or broken ears; it just showed up later instead of immediate.
​

 

[BEESONG]

smokethroat happens to overhear the conversation from his makeshift nest, and it doesn't take long for the lead warrior to join in on the jesting. beesong shoots him a look of faux shock. "seeing visions of the future? maybe you should've been appointed as riverclan's medicine cat, instead." his retort is dry, holding no hint of its joking nature.

it's only broken by smokethroat delving into an explanation of his own odd spots. beesong relaxes into a small smile, listening in silence. the sharpness of perpetually tensed muscles remain, but it is perhaps the softest that beesong could look. one spot in particular, the lead warrior points out; a little white heart right on his belly. it's stupid looking, smokethroat claims, and beesong hums. "really? i actually think it suits you." once again, they keep a straight face while they address smokethroat. although, after a minute, they release the charade and wrinkle up their nose in a teasing manner.

peachpaw stammers out an apology for bothering him. beesong blinks back down at her. while it might be true that the visit ended up being a waste of time on both ends... he doesn't fault peachpaw for it. he would rather her come to him for something inconsequential than her try to hide a serious ailment. "why apologize? you did what's right." beesong doesn't want her delaying future visits because of this one time.

pine slips past the small group then, fernpaw coming to take his place with encouraging chirps. beesong watches the young tom leave with an unreadable expression. pine seems to be the nervous type, keeping himself at a distance both physically and emotionally since his joining a quarter-moon ago. and beesong doesn't push, thinking it's best for pine to open up his heart at his own pace rather than having others try to force it. so, they let him leave without a word.

dogteeth bursts into the den shortly after. demanding to know what was wrong with his daughter, with a frantic shove of his muzzle towards peachpaw's temple. beesong bites his tongue, forcing down the prickle of irritation at the back of his neck. whether peachpaw was suffering from an ailment or not, it wouldn't do any good to stir up a panic. "smokethroat's right," beesong says to the fretting father, voice level. "peachpaw is fine, just a little more white than she was yesterday." certainly nothing to get one's tail in a twist over... ​