oneshot SOME WILL TAKE THE HIGH ROAD [THEFT] I WILL GO LOW

[Eggbounce.]

I'M GONNA BE THE SNACK THAT SMILES BACK
I'M GONNA BE THE KIT TO YOUR KAT ​

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eggpaw & 12 moons & male & he/him & skyclan apprentice ​

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Whatever future eggpaw had envisioned, he's certain that sneaking his way through the medicine den in the dead of night was not it. He almost wants to laugh - fear and hysteria bubbling up his throat, but he bites down on it. He can't afford to get caught - not now, not before he gets what he needs.

Eggpaw has always been on the path of warrior, light-hearted and sunny though his disposition may be. Medicine, healing, herbs? It's all unfamiliar to him, and really he's barely getting by by the fur of his tail. He'd stumbled his way through the start - stopping bleeding seemed straightforward enough. Except it wasn't. Grass and leaves and cleaning it could only do so much - he had no idea where to find cobwebs, or even how to deal with the sticky stuff, so he'd simply done what he could. But their frantic efforts could do nothing for the pain - for the heat that had begun bubbling beneath his new friends fur.

Something was still wrong.

Poppy seeds are for pain - its one of the few tidbits he knows, something even loners and kittypets on the streets have picked up. He's only half-certain he knows what they look like - and stars, he doesn't know how many he even needs. Or worse, what if dawnglare notices they're gone? Or fireflypaw wakes and catches him in the act? Fear leaves stomach churning, but still he can't stop now - paws carrying him forwards as silently as he can, hulking frame ducked down low in an attempt not to slam into anything and wake the dens snoozing occupants.

There's far to many piles of plants in there, the sharp smelling herbs nearly enough to make him sneeze. Blue eyes squint, scanning around until at last he thinks he finds what he needs - teeny tiny round little seeds, bluish-black in their tinge. Paws are damp as he batts at them, but its enough - feels a few of the things stick to his pad before a shuffle of noise has him fleeing as fast as a cat hobbling on three paws can. He's not sure how many he's grabbed - not sure how many he needs - but its clear he's ran out of time. There's no second chances, no turning back now.

It'll just have to be enough.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

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( I ' M ━ G O N N A ━ B E ━ T HE ━ O N E ━ Y O U ━ U N W R A P )

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