camp the morning after ✧ recovered

[lichenstar]

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It was a fog that weighed heavily first on the body then quickly the mind, one that was all-consuming, numbing, unfamiliar. The days that passed moved in blurry motions, the sun's bright rays making up for only faint waking moments before the dark came back in its comfort. Counting the days had been a fruitless effort, small marks etched into the soft dirt beneath a nest long over-stayed but the tally fell wildly out of accordance with the dizzying reality that moved on outside. A familiar swatch of dark fur would brush past on ginger paws, careful... ever so careful... a voice gentle.

In the comfort of fleeting dreams...

It had smelled like flowers and Sunshine.

All of that wistful dissociation was sliced through with claws made of bitter herbs- the relief that winked in stress-wrinkled eyes- it had been a disgusting and worthwhile pill to swallow. It didn't particularly matter which clan had solved for the cure, didn't really matter where it had started. It had come for all of them and left many weak and many more dead. Counting herself among the star-blessed and mercy-given, weeks of slow recovery had been agonizing, made only more frustrating by the young, ear-shattering voice of a certain obnoxious boy.

She could remember fitful nights between uncomfortable shifting the sounds of his wailing.. the insistent demand for comfort that could not be provided (despite how much Ravensong probably wished it to be possible sooner). But finally... her body felt like her own again (it was a haggard, tired thing really... hardly able to keep a meal down even now) and that plant-littered tom had assured it was time.

Giving a nervous glance between the medicine cat and the resting bodies nearby, she couldn't shake the feeling that a choice had been made for her then. One that she couldn't calculate the consequences for yet.

Eyes flit across the clearing, grateful at the very least that things seem... mostly normal despite the heavy air that hangs in the atmosphere. The Gathering would be soon, judging by the swell of the moon that hung low in the sky as it prepared for its journey across the night's sky.

"Back to work," their meow comes out hoarse from lack of use but it doesn't seem to phase the blue point as they scan nearby for a familiar ashy apprentice (or... whoever else she recognized, really). Brookpaw would be delighted to get back to training as soon as possible and she had a lot of lost time to make up for...... again.....

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⋆ ✧ OOC : lichen's free from the medicine cat den as of the morning of the Gathering !!! woo, party time! also ... surprise post format update pog​

 

[ROOKFANG]

THE HERMIT ─── He had never been through such a plague, one that seemed boundless and free as it bounced to one victim to another. Not just within his own clan but he heard whispers and comments of the others too, the clans now being shattered and fractured by an unknown force. When did it start? What caused it? Would it happen again? Rookfang was once again wrapped in his own mummified encasement of thoughts as he shook off the dense weight of water that clung to his fur. He knew now that while he still was not impacted by such a feverish entrapment, he would use whatever free time he had to allocate time to be ahead. Hunt more. Patrol more. Whatever he could do more, he was attempting even if his lack of sleep and rest weren't making up for the rise of work. What was the saying that his mentor had always preached to him practically every day until it was seared into his own golden rules? You can rest when you're dead. Overworking seemed almost natural, infused with this dangerous idea that every second counted so he might as well put it to good use. Old habits die hard and this one was in a constant battle with the advice he was given.

The tangy taste of scales and fish snapped him back as he bit down on the fish he had caught, soft huffs of breath colliding into it as he walked back to the camp. Despite being with them for so many moons, Rookfang didn't truly enjoy the taste of fish, still preferring bird over it. But knowing it was the food source that most of the camp ate and survived with, he was fishing more than he was used to. His jagged sawtooth chocolate fur wasn't meant for the water, that sort of gene was not gifted to him and hence the water sunk deep into his pelt and Rookfang felt the shivers of cold discomfort dance down his spine as he returned. Nonetheless, he would adjust and adapt as he always has.

His murky shadowed gaze was focused on the pile when he heard the strained voice of Lichentail split the air, causing his lidded eyes to rift over to where the other was located. A wave of relief washed over him for a few moments as he realized they appeared better than before, not in their prime status but at least better. Rookfang felt ashamed of how useless he was with medicinal knowledge and how much their own healer was working to ensure that they would survive. For that, he was grateful for even if his expression wasn't able to show it so clearly. He blinked, barely catching the full but brief sentence but "work" did stick and his permanent frown deepened as he decided to head over to gray warrior's direction.

"You should at least eat something first." He states gently as he lowers his head in a respectful dip that includes placing the freshly caught fish down in front of their paws. As his massive form straightened itself and he did a quick lookover of Lichentail's appearance, he wondered if they would appreciate it. He knew they both carried the obsessive trait of wishing to be more, to prove themselves despite having different approaches to it. "I'm glad you feel somewhat better." Rookfang couldn't imagine the anticipation that must be swirling within the other, of finally not being nest-ridden for so long. By Starclan, he could barely stick to his own nest in a regular day if he ever caught the grace to want to sleep or rest.​

 

[DogTeeth]

The thought of death by illness, well it was a macabre painting behind his eyes. Dogteeth was a quiet and studious lad, it made the coughs from the medicine den and the chatter of the illness that much louder.

The kind exchange from Rookfang to Linchentail brings a somber smile to the blonde’s muzzle. " that’s sweet of you " perhaps it could go unsaid, and Dogteeth hardly spoke sometimes so it often did go unsaid but he breaks his brief silence. " you’re one tough cat " he offers to Lichentail. " If there is anything I can do for you too, I won’t mind " he offers kindly with a smile radiating as it spreads over his jaws.

There wasn’t much to smile for, hell- most of the time it felt more like stretching his face. His purr was just a hollow grumble in his throat, but he offered it nonetheless. He falls quiet, settling into a sit and wrapping his pillowy mess of curls for a tail around himself. Blue eyes darting under heavy lashes as he simply enjoys the company of clanmates, and sends a silent prayer of thanks to Starclan for Linchentail’s recovery.
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⛦ OOC INFORMATION REFERENCE ⛦

• —
  
  
• — Dogteeth PINTEREST
  — twenty-eight moons
  — VOICE & ACCENT
  — warrior of Riverclan
  — gay | crushing on n/a
  — small curly-furred blonde and tan tom with blue eyes.
  — very gentle voice and laugh
  — deals a nasty bite
  BIOGRAPHY——— ✧
  
• 
  
  

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[RAVENSONG]

"Congratulations."

Ravensong says, sitting like a shadow from the den in which Lichentail was exiting. He was happy to see the recovery had went well. It was possible he had kept Lichentail here a little longer than what was absolutely needed, but perhaps he had just wanted to make sure that all traces of infection were gone from her pelt. Back to work indeed. Though Ravensong could hardly think of her time in the medicine cat den as any sort of vacation.

"I mean this in the best way possible, but I hope I do not see you here again." Ravensong deadpanned, a flicker of light passing over his eyes just for a moment as he watched her interact with Rookfang and Dogteeth.

☾₊ ⊹ темная ночь — dark is the night

•  
• 
  RAVENSONG of RIVERCLAN
  — LH BLACK POLYDACTYL MALE (CARRYING CINNAMON, DILUTE) a tall, slender creature with pitch-black feathery fur, large ears, and a sharply angled skull held up in an aloof manner. smells of dried herb, speaks with a low and rumbly accent and walks with an elegant slinking gait.
  
  — born in twolegplace and orphaned at a young age, he joined riverclan at its inception and began training as a drypaw warrior known for a bitter temperment until beesong made him his medicine cat apprentice. after his mentor's untimely death, he had been named ravensong at the moonstone, young heart revitalized with anger and guilt. he is a somber and thorough medicine cat that guards every word spoken in the confines of his den.
  
  — secretly loves "the stars but not so much what inhabits them"
  — openly suffers from chronic migraines
  — single, but "it's complicated"

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[lichenstar]

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The lumbering form of a tom who found purpose in his work proved to be nothing if not a slightly (kindly) hypocritical advisement, one only intended with goodness at its core but annoying nonetheless. To be babied after weeks spent fitfully sleeping, coughing up what felt like an entire lung sometimes... sure, this sickness was nothing to scoff at but the point was she was fine now. Glancing towards the offered meal, Lichentail can feel their stomach growl... if it is from hunger or the opposite they struggle to tell.

Fish. RiverClan and their fish. "Very well, since I look frail enough to need the charity," the foggy molly responds, not intending to sound as dry and annoyed as the flatness of her voice might suggest; she obliges the gentle insistence with a larger-than-necessary bite. The soft murmurings of a familiar and calm-natured warrior bring some amount of comfort (and embarrassment just the same) as words of praise are exchanged. Strong?

Nothing felt strong about the way their breaths rattled in their chest like frightened doves seeking dire escape.... Nothing had felt strong about the way their stomach had twisted at the offers of food despite how hunger gnawed at an tumultuous belly.

"It's a kind offer, Dogteeth," the molly purrs, hoping not to upset him by indirectly rejecting the kindness. The last thing she needed was more nervous paws prodding her about her health- there was one shadow-dipped tom that was plenty good at that on his own. "I'll keep it in mind- for now I'm just antsy to do something."

'Congratulations,' is shared from the opening of the medicine cat's den and it is like his ears had burned with her thoughts of him... summoning a very tired, but somewhat relieved healer. The joke takes longer than it should to land... a mask of confusion shifting quickly to an amused smile. "Awww you know you're gonna miss my wheezing at night," the blue point jests though the smile falters for fear of who might not be so lucky to follow her...

"I'll do my best to make sure we don't share a den again anytime soon."​