[ CW warning for fear & breathing troubles ]

Stay in the den.
The instruction had been simple, as soon as the sky turned that odd color, and the air’s scent turned burnt. Yet, Roekit couldn’t understand why she had to be confined to the stupid medicine den when everyone else got to be hustling and bustling about. It was unjust- to say the least!
She had waited until Cinderfrost left camp to step out, eagerly racing over to the nursery to her friends. She was only able to persuade a couple into joining her for a game of hide-the-leaf, but that was okay.
Everything was okay as she raced around camp under the smokey sky, able to ignore the small twinge of discomfort in her chest, the slight wheeze in her breath. She was Roekit, it was nothing, not to someone as strong as her!
Though, something shifted, abrupt and violent as she was mid-skittling in search for the leaf.
A small shutter racked through her body, stopping the kitten cold in her tracks. An invisible paw reached into her chest cavity and began to squeeze.
Concerned peers noticed, and surrounded her, anxious looks smothering her.
"I.. I- uhm…" suddenly words were lost to her, her tongue feeling fastened to the bottom of her maw. "I can’t… breathe?" The breathless words came out as a question, and she stumbled onto her haunches, fear causing her to clasp her ears to her skull. "I wa… want mom!" The demand was coarse as something was restricting her throat, the sharp inhales she was struggling to take sounding more like wheezes. "I want m-mom!" She demanded again, squeezing her eyes shut.
[ Summary: Roekit was playing with a couple other kits in the smoke which resulted in her having her first asthma attack, she is currently asking for Cinderfrost ]


The smoke was starting to get to an unbearable level. How they could carry on as normal in camp and not do anything about the smoke plaguing their territory was a mystery to Flycatcher. Well to say they were doing nothing was a lie, as he knew full well that Cinderfrost had been going through large amounts of honey and moss trying to treat their clanmates suffering from the smoke.

Flycatcher had been in camp that morning, trying his best to be of use somehow. He had attempted hunting earlier but found it difficult to concentrate with the hazy air and the itchiness in his own throat. He had seen Roekit and the other kittens running around camp and watched them cautiously from afar, personally thinking it would have been safer for them inside one of the dens and out of the main camp. He knew something was wrong when he saw the kits gathered around in a huddle, their worried mews punctuating the air. Curious, he pads forward to investigate and is shocked to see Roekit huddled on the floor struggling to breathe. He is worried for Roekit in that moment but it will do no good to panic in that moment, especially with so many young kits around. "Give her some room," He advises the other kits, nudging a few back when they don't heed his orders. "Move back." He says a little more forcefully. And then looking over the kits heads, he turns to shout out to a nearby clanmate. "Can you fetch Cinderfrost, please? Something is wrong with Roekit, she's having trouble breathing."

Berryheart had noticed his own breath beginning to wheeze. It hearkened back to days in cold winter, when his throat had felt as if it was fighting against him, and his chest had lit alight with pain despite the frigid air. He knew not just from a glance the similarity that he had with this struggling kitten, the kinship of their ailment- he hardly had time to ponder it. With a nod, he heeded Blue's request, brows knitted in a concerned frown.

It did not take him long to find their medic, to lead her to the predicament- he sat, sidelined as he let her take over, a contemplative light in his eyes. She was the one chosen to handle these catastrophes, and so he would let her, content to not crowd this kitten or get in the medicine cat's way. Still, could he truly sit idly when he had his own stories to tell, his own experience? "Take it slow," he instructed Bubbles simply, quietly. Taking long, deep breaths, and focusing only on the slowness of it, tended to help him. A concentrated effort made not to crowd- that never helped anything- Berryheart stayed rooted.
A cat raced up to her with a worried expression. Through ragged breaths, he informed her that something was wrong with Roe. The molly flew through the forest, running through brambles that scratched at her skin.

The medicine cat wildly burst from the thickets of the camp's borders. Twigs and leaves clung to her fur as wide eyes searched for-

"Roe!" Within a heartbeat, the grey molly appeared beside the struggling kit. Oh stars, oh stars. She couldn't breathe! She needed help! "Someone help her-"

Her mouth abruptly clenched shut. That was her job. As medicine cat, her paws had been tasked to heal. Eyes red and dry from smoke were remoisturized from the tears summoned by panic, fear, and frustration.

"You didn't prepare me for this." she wheezed, steely gaze briefly lifted toward the skies. "You sent me here despite.." Despite knowing very, very little. Her inexperience brought forth inadequatecy. StarClan told her to heal the wounded, threatened her with some cryptic dream, controlled the course of her life. They did all of that while offering her nothing in return.

"We need to get her inside the nursery. There's too much smoke out here." she wheezed. Please, please.. I can't lose another. I can't fail another.. Please. she silently begged the stars despite knowing they wouldn't respond.

Ash, Leaping Toad, and now Roe...? No, that couldn't happen.​
It was the smoke, all the damn smoke and debris infiltrating their territory and laying over their camp like some hot, deadly miasma. Meadowflame feels she stinks of it, that no matter how often she grooms the grit from her coat, she will smell of fire and ash.

She watches little Roekit collapse, wheeze. She does not move to her - after all, Flycatcher and Berryheart are right there. She hears the gray tom call out for someone to get Cinderfrost, and she sighs, heading to the blue mink's den. As predicted, Cinderfrost bursts from her dwelling in a panic, rushing to Roekit.

"Panicking won't help," she says, eyes stinging and tearing up from the murk in the air. She's worn, irritable, her facade dusted and crumbled. She wants to breathe clean air, but you don't see her whining and crying about how she can't breathe. Honestly. Children. They're so selfish, she thinks to herself.