private SOMETHING FOR YOUR MIND ( COMFREYPAW ) ༊

[APPLEJAW]

Applepaw did not like burdening herself with worries.

It made her weak. It distracted her. It allowed for her to be clumsy during hunting, and for the likes of Garlicpaw to become a more skilled hunter than her. It was not worth her time, to pace back and forth in the midst of camp. It was not worth her time, to stress more about the cats that needed her catch than the catch itself, and the feeling of it beneath her paws. She did not need to worry before, because she did not fear sickness. Applepaw feared real things like foxes and bears, like trees that could fall on top of you, not something like a runny nose.

That runny nose had taken her mother. And in a different way, it may very well take her father as well. She is left with very little. With Granitepelt.

And she has been slow, achingly slow, because she cannot stop worrying about her good for nothing brother, and for Comfreypaw.

Applepaw comes to her today with a frog— not her own. But when she stopped worrying about Comfreypaw, she'd be able to bring her all the frogs she could ever dream of. The medicine cats are weary— and they have reason to be. Applepaw stays as far as she can with her eyes still being for Comfreypaw, and her alone. Never mind the dozen other sick nobodies that now were strewn across the cave floor. Applepaw drops the frog at Comfreypaw's feet.

" You're going to be okay, right? " Applepaw asks, and maybe it does not carry the warmth it should. It sounds like a demand— and Applepaw is not ashamed to demand. She needed her closest friend to be okay without Applepaw worrying about her. And then she would be great for them both.

ooc ༊ 𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂

• ooc: @COMFREYPAW!!
  

• 

• ( I'M OBSESSED WITH THE MESS THAT'S AMERICA. ) APPLEPAW. kit of shadowclan. eldest sister to swanpaw, ashenpaw, and garlicpaw. ( + birdkit, halfkit & tanglekit )
  —— she / her; confused by the use of others.
  —— currently 6 moons old as of 9.27.23. ages every 17th.
  
  longhaired blue torbie with a white chest, paws, and underbelly. A young cat you would describe as " bossy, " Applekit is quick to take charge of any situation she sees herself as the probable head of. A rule - follower to a T, and thinks herself better than the majority of her clan for this. Not ignorant enough to think herself above a warrior, but seeks to gain that status as quickly as possible. Intensely self - motivated to be the best in a mixture of blind, childish desire, and never wanting to be afraid of anything ever again.

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[COMFREYPAW]

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XXXXXAs the days creep by—and they do, they creep like insects in mud, slow and crusted with filth—Comfreypaw deteriorates. She has been hanging onto her clarity for weeks, and at night especially, it leaves her. She wakes with her flesh burning beneath her fur, her cheeks wet with sticky tears, and clouded amber eyes see shadows moving in Starlingheart’s den. Now she shares this den with cats from all over the forest—her nostrils burn with acrid scents, scents of rabbit-funk and pine sap and leaf mold and river water—but she can’t bring herself to care the way she normally would.

XXXXXDaylight brings glassy, weak sunshine to the den, and Comfreypaw is relieved. The sun burns the dancing darkness away. Her head aches, face a stiff mask hiding congestion, but she is alive and no one is coming to hurt her. No monsters can touch her as long as it’s light outside.

XXXXXA familiar pale ginger shape moves toward her sickbed. Comfreypaw lolls in the crusty moss, blinking eyes sewn with bile. Applepaw has brought a frog, dropped unceremoniously to the floor of the cave. It makes a satisfying plop! sound, flesh smacking stone, but she stares at it uncertainly. Her stomach revolts. “Thank you,” she rasps, pulling herself into an unsteady sitting position. She knows she looks frightening—and Applepaw’s presence, her flat tone, her critical mismatched glare, is enough to force her into some grooming. She gives dull charcoal tabby fur long, careful licks, rubs the sand out of her amber eyes and around her nose. “I’m going to be okay,” she says, but it’s said so thinly and with so much exhaustion that it’s weak even to her own ears.

XXXXXComfreypaw drops her washing paw, looking uneasily about the cave floor strewn with bodies she does not recognize. “What is happening…?” If there had been talk, she’d missed it, dreaming fitfully.

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[APPLEJAW]

Thank you, she says, and Applepaw blinks blankly at her. She's practically forgotten she's brought her anything at all. The thanks is ignored, traded for a poignant stare and a cream tail wrapped around her paws. Frankly, she looks horrible, with ungroomed fur and rheumy eyes. She wonders if all victims of yellowcough looked as horrible as she did, and how Starlingheart could spare to take care of them all, if so. Of course, she would not afford them a look. Not her brother. Just... Comfreypaw. And she will be fine.

She says so herself, after a few licks of her coat. Comfreypaw was better than the rest. It would be a waste of time for her to worry about her, day in and day out. ...Though the affirmation is weak enough to mirror Swanpaw, himself. Applepaw hesitates.

And with a blink, she powers on. Mismatched eyes narrow. " A lot. The other clans— even mighty WindClan, have all been driven from their camps, apparently. They've come crawling to us, in the end. " In a sense, it satisfied her. Crawling was often something attributed to them. Crawling across other territories; across strange, twoleg dumping grounds like insects. It was a nice hope, to be the final piece of salvation, for once. She would like to keep it that way, if she could help herself. Of course, there's only so much she can do, as she is...

She just needs to work harder. " Most of them are at the burnt sycamore, but... I guess the sick are in here with you. " Her pelt prickles. It is... noticeably stuffier. " They don't matter, though. " Her lips press into a thin line. Comfreypaw matters. A blink.

She knows... Knows that Yellowcough made you delirius. Through that delirium, Applepaw wonders if Comfreypaw knows what happened to Halfshade. Comfreypaw hardly seemed delirious, though. She was better than that, wasn't she?

Promise me that you'll get better, she almost says. ...But what if she were to break that promise?

Applepaw isn't sure that she could handle it. " You'll be fine. " She reiterates it as if Comfreypaw needed to hear it, and not herself. " Smogmaw... He'll come and fix everything. And until he does, I... I won't get distracted, " she vows.

ooc ༊ 𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂

• 
  

• 

• ( I'M OBSESSED WITH THE MESS THAT'S AMERICA. ) APPLEPAW. kit of shadowclan. eldest sister to swanpaw, ashenpaw, and garlicpaw. ( + birdkit, halfkit & tanglekit )
  —— she / her; confused by the use of others.
  —— currently 7 moons old as of 10.22.23. ages every 17th.
  
  longhaired blue torbie with a white chest, paws, and underbelly. A young cat you would describe as " bossy, " Applekit is quick to take charge of any situation she sees herself as the probable head of. A rule - follower to a T, and thinks herself better than the majority of her clan for this. Not ignorant enough to think herself above a warrior, but seeks to gain that status as quickly as possible. Intensely self - motivated to be the best in a mixture of blind, childish desire, and never wanting to be afraid of anything ever again.

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