pafp STICK TOGETHER // sick

[cottonsprig]

[ pls wait for @SOOTSPOT + tw for emetophobia ]

Cottonsprig excuses herself from her patrol. Her stomach churns and flips and though a week ago she managed it well, the recent days have proven far more difficult. Any askew scent, any unfavorable thought, anything... and she finds herself only narrowly able to avoid becoming sick in front of others. This time, however, she is not granted such an easy privilege. While she puts space between herself and the others, she's only able to just get out of sight before her stomach empties onto the ground. And even then - the pathway for the patrol follows this way, so only in minutes will they join her again.

Panic makes her want to vomit again, however thankfully she has nothing left to give. She kicks some dry grass over the ick and cleans off her muzzle as quickly as she can - however soon enough, a single set of paws find her. Sootspot. Her brother. Had he been a part of the patrol, or was this strange coincidence? She's unsure. More pawsteps are approaching them, some accompanied by chattering voices. All she feels is fear - first of her brother's judgement, and then of the patrol's notice.

"Sootspot..." she pleads, quietly. Help me, Cottonsprig doesn't say. Her ears twist back uncomfortably as she meagerly straightens her stance.
​

 

[SOOTSPOT]

Far away from the main body of the patrol, Sootspot scouted ahead, the conversations of his clanmates bringing forth some ire within the Tunneler. It had been a mundane enough talk, something about prey or StarClan or something, but it had been enough for the tom to realise he wanted nothing to do with his clanmates at that point. He had not followed his spoilt sister with intention, all the same, he had been rewarded for his isolation. Pushing into the long stems, the male recognised a familiar, hunched form scarcely hidden from sight. His eyes settled onto Cottonsprig, onto the... mess she had made. The chimera's lip curled in disgust at first, then, she turned to him, pleading, fearful. His brows quirked in surprise, questions unable to fall from a gaped maw before he heard curious pawsteps fast approaching. Why would a medicine cat want to hide a sickness? Unless... Unless... Before their clanmates reached the tall grasses, the tomcat coiled in on himself as if jabbed in the belly, gagging above the pile of poorly hidden vomit.

'You cretin. Just what have you done?' His eyes squeezed shut. Sootspot coughed too easily, bile and saliva trickling between his teeth like cursed streams. "This is unbecoming," he cursed himself as the first set of eyes bore upon his frail form, their stare feeling like claws at his throat. "Apologies... ugh..." He smacked his teeth together, licking his lips repeatedly. "I think I have a hairball stuck somewhere..." He didn't need to look Cottonsprig in the eye to know just how grateful she ought to be to him for this.


​

 

[Paleface.]

〔★〕Paleface had noted Cottonsprig's meager attempt to remove herself from the patrol, and ever the dutiful warrior he had set the rest of his patrol down to do their hunting and then doubled back to make sure the she-cat was, in fact, okay. What he came upon was a face of fear and a tom with bile dripping from his lips. He straightened his back, mildly disgusted at the display before him.

"Am I, interrupting something? Cottonsprig are you okay? You didn't look any good when you left the patrol." He set his intentions very early and very clearly: he was worried for his clanmate's, yes, but there was only one that had been under his care as patrol lead, even if she was technically ranked higher than him, it was still his duty to make sure she was okay. He glanced over at Sootspot's dripping mouth, ear flicking slightly. He should really man up. Hair balls were not the end of the world, and really he was just being so dramatic about it that Paleface nearly turned his lip up. Is this why Cottonsprig had divided from his patrol? To make sure the male was okay because she had heard him hacking and huffing while the rest of them had been busy talking out of their tails?

a dragon without its rider is a tragedy ( a rider without its dragon is dead ) //

• ooc.
  
• PALEFACE —— warrior (moorrunner) of windclan . npc x npc . littermate to 2 others ★ penned by helly
  ★ cis male / he/him / 16 moons & ages every 1st
  ★ single / bisexual & monoflexible / open to romance
  ★ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— combat notes here / battle notes
  
  ★ “speech”, 'thoughts', all opinions are in character
  ★ biography — msg on discord for plots (hellycinth) — toyhouse
  
• 
  
  

  a longhaired black tabby/chocolate tabby chimera with low white and blue eyes no scarring.

​

 

[BLUEFROST]

Oh, the stars are against her. She stumbles upon the sick mess with a twisted expression of dismay. Her own belly gurgles and protests; she has to turn her face away to stop herself from expelling the contents of her breakfast right beside her siblings' mess. Patrolling while pregnant is not for the faint of heart; she can commiserate with Cottonsprig, for certain, though she feels a prickle of discomfort when she sees the look in Sootspot's emerald eyes.

Why did it have to be him?

"Cottonsprig is fine." Her voice is clipped and cold as she shoulders her way to stand beside Paleface. Her green eyes are thin scabs of ice; they rake over first her sister, then her brother, who is crouched over a pile of hastily-covered sick. "Just helping Sootspot out, since he is so ill. Right?"

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 16 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
  — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring Brackenpaw ; previously mentored n/a.
  — windclan warrior. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh blue smoke she-cat with white and emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.
  
  

​

 

[cottonsprig]

Sootspot glares down at her, no different than he does to prey he's capable of cutting down she's sure. Questions flick on his snake's tongue but before she knows it, the tom hunches over by her sick. He makes an obnoxious noise and as Paleface and Bluefrost crest the hill, Cottonsprig takes a wary step away from her brother. He talks about a hairball shortly before Paleface asks if she's okay, and though she feels her gaze too wild for a moment, the she-cat takes her time to right herself.

She's... a worried medicine cat, a worried sister. She stiffens her legs and wears an awkward smile, her tail curling around her hind legs, "Thank you, Paleface, but I'm alright. Just... startled, I suppose." Bluefrost concurs with her, her sister's icy tone fighting hard to pin white paws to the grassly moorland ground. Cottonsprig nods - excessively at first, and then after a few tilts of her head she slows down. "Yeah, we should be getting you to the sunwarmed pool, maybe," she says to Sootspot, turning her blue gaze to the other. There is a surprising amount of gratefulness in her eyes, though she hides the tremoring fear of just what contract she signed in enlisting his help. "Some water would do you well for that hairball, huh?"​