camp WATCHING SNOW — sick

[CRAPPIEPATCH]

It has been a rough week for Crappiepaw. First was the embarrassing episode that made him think he was dying, and landed him straight in the medics’ den. Again. And then his stupid mentor had things to scold him for—for not telling them that he was sick, like being sick isn’t just a part of his whole personality now. And he hasn’t seen any of his friends since this morning, which is just unbelievable. He’s itching for a bit of excitement, something to cheer him up and give him something to do that isn’t sitting in a nest and watching one of the healers putter around the den. Sure, he could try talking to some other sick cats, but who does that consist of? Smokethroat, who is barely coherent at the best of times and is often joined by the guard dog of a leader—mate? Are they mates?—or perhaps Beesong themself, who is not good company to a bored apprentice. Maybe he could convince Gloompaw to do something entertaining, if Gloompaw hasn’t already fallen into the boring habits of the healer she’s training to be.

The calico sneezes, and it’s powerful enough that they smack their nose into the floor. "Ow!" They squeak in pain, rubbing a cold paw across their nose to soothe it. Their stump of a tail flicks in irritation, and the child drags themself up and onto all four paws, then stumble-steps their way over to the entrance of the medicine cats’ den. Dull green eyes squint out into the camp, tilting their head to the side as they survey their clanmates. "I’m bored…" they snuffle, voice muffled by the gross stuff that’s built up at the back of their throat.
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[ FORTUNE LOVES THE BOLD ]​

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[SMOKESTAR]

He's mostly coherent, MOSTLY, it was just very hard to focus at times and there was a ringing in his ear that never quite went away but he was told it'd fade in time. Smokethroat is perfectly content spending his idle recovery time sleeping, not used to getting a proper nights sleep due to his rampant insomnia so the lull of the medicine cat den and the aromatic scent was almost comforting at times; he wasn't going to get used to this or enjoy it long term but it was hardly as torturous as Crappiepaw seemed to think. His lone orange eye had been partially open, watching the apprentice stare forelornly out of the den's mouth to the camp outside where the cold permeates everything yet life continued onward.
It's the sneeze that has him lift his head, suddenly alert and teeth flashing white in a confused half-snarl, half-grimace, before he realizes it was the spotted apprentice's doing and he gives a quiet huff as the young tom moves to finally voice his complaint out loud, leaning into the reeds of the entrance to peer out more properly.
"...so I've noticed." The tom says, it's a wonder his words are audible at all, he feels like every syllable is a forced growl and his voice has been shattered into nothing but broken ice, but he continues regardless, "If only Clayfur could eat something strange and join you in here. I'm poor company at best." The tabby would liven the den up and he wasn't sure if he wanted it that degree of lively but it would be a change of pace. The star-spotted tom himself was mostly existing in a vague haze, waiting for cats to come and go and-alright, admittedly he was wondering when their leader would drop back in but with leaf-bare and down a lead warrior he was suredly busy.

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[Petalnose]

I FIND COMFORT IN THE SOUND AND THE SHAPE OF THE HEART ⋆⁺₊⋆


Petalnose had been in the medic den for a little while, recovering from her poisoning. There were also some hopes to get her memory back in check, but the female was starting to doubt that would happen. She had left for a small window of time to sunbathe and get her mind off of her nightmares. Of course, the sunbathing was hard with the frost-touched ground and winter sun. However, she craved even a ray.

When she started to feel a bit light-headed, she slowly entered to go take a rest in her nest. She noted Crappiepaw and Smokethroat's conversation, shifting her gaze up as her head rested on the leaves. "Mmm... maybe request a feather to pick at..?" she suggested quietly, closing her eyes for a moment. "I mean, you can talk to me, but my brain is near empty of rememberance. I don't think you can pull a story from me." she added with a shrug, opening one eye slowly to gaze at the apprentice again. "How'd you end up in here, may I ask?" she mewed with curiousity, it was a shame to see an apprentice in the medic den. She didn't know who the other was, but she still had sympathy for him. She wasn't normally the extrovert and socializing with others made her uncomfortable, however, from pure sympathy she forced some friendliness out of her for his sake. She wouldn't get close to Crappiepaw, noting that he didn't seem to have injuries. She was already suffering from poisioning, she didn't need something ontop of that. Plus, she preferred space in general.

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[CRAPPIEPATCH]

The voice of the pitiful-looking shadow catches Crappiepaw off guard, and they blink at him for a moment. Smokethroat sounds awful—though at least it seems his name suits him, now. Smoke in the throat, fire in the lungs… there’s an interesting comparison in there somewhere. The calico apprentice just doesn’t care to think too deeply into it right now. Not when they’re bored out of their brain and trying to force down mucus.

Their mouth falls into a flat line, a partial grimace, listening to Smokethroat. "Clayfur’s gross," they say, wrinkling their nose at the thought. They don’t need another idiot adult in the medicine den anyway—there’s enough in here as it is. But they can’t deny that Smokethroat is right—the lead warrior is pretty terrible to talk to. "And you’d be better company if you didn’t act like an elder. Should I get the… the mouse bile?" They snicker, just a bit. Just to poke fun at the older tom. There’s no bite to their words, none of their usual snide, lip-curling remarks. A small mercy, offered to the warrior who is miraculously still breathing.

The other warrior who speaks—her name is Petalnose, they remember, but don’t care to use it—sounds much better than Smokethroat, although she too is lucky to be alive. She suggests picking at a feather, but even as she speaks she doesn’t move closer. They grunt at the realization; it’s not like they bite hard. But it makes sense, that the warrior who’s recovering from poisoning doesn’t want to get near anyone sick. Petalnose claims she doesn’t remember enough to tell them a story, and Crappiepaw sighs. Truly, no one around here is good company. "I guess you’re better than nothing," the child hums. Better to converse with these two losers than to sit and twiddle their paws all day.

She questions why they’re in the healers’ den, and Crappiepaw’s ears angle backward, pressed closer to their head. "I’m sick. I’ve always been sick, though, so I’m not sure why I still have to be here…" He huffs out a sigh, again, bigger this time. Everyone faints occasionally, it’s not like it’s such a terrible thing that’s happened to him. And besides, he’s been sick for as long as he can remember, so he’s had moons to get used to it. "Can you remember why you’re in here?"
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[ FORTUNE LOVES THE BOLD ]​

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[SMOKESTAR]

Didn't act like a...
Smokethroat wrinkled his nose at the comment, as light as it was it spun an entirely new perspective on himself he hadn't been prepared to hear. "Do I...really act like an elder...Petalnose, do I act like an elder?" The she-cat had only just joined the conversation after returning (her reason for being here was vague and he wasn't the sort to pry so he'd never asked) and already he'd dragged her into his confusion. "If you're volunteering to de-tick me then by all means, apprentice." His tone was lightly threatening, but his expression calm amusement; making it clear he was joking. Mostly.
Surely he didn't act that much like an ornery old tom, surely. He had a temper at times and was very aware his tendency to not smile often or respond to jokes with much other than stoic indifference was a bit jarring to the younger cats but he had not had the same comforting upbringing as they had. Most the younger generation were now clanborn, brought into the world knowing only RiverClan and not what came before. Smokethroat often worried the lack of harshness would have them struggle more as a result, but so far the apprentices were managing far better than he could hope. He'd not begrudge them their own certainty in themselves; that the colony cats had been punished for their existence shouldn't fall to the next generation.

The dark tom's tail flicked, slapping against the floor of the den as he settled his head back on his paws, watching the two with partial interest because their competition was just a wall of tall reeds and they only just won out. "I'm here cause I won a fight." He offered as the apprentice questioned Petalnose on her reason for being present, his tone light though his words sharp and growling as his voice was wont to do. He would not be told he lost when a rabbit had been claimed by them and the WindClanners sent running without anything more than scratches to bring back to their camp; a victory was a victory.

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[Petalnose]

I FIND COMFORT IN THE SOUND AND THE SHAPE OF THE HEART ⋆⁺₊⋆
//So sorry for late response, was on vacation and then my birthday happened.

It seemed the two had some type of quirk that left them to be tenser than the regular passing cat in this clan. At least, from what she could evaluate at the time being. She wasn't going to be hypocritical however, she did not like being friendly. She liked being neutral but the attention and conversating with others she did not know well was not her piece of pie. Now she got tied up in a situation she didn't want to be in, she wouldn't outwardly roll her eyes and shake her head but she metaphorically did it in her mind.

She didn't know the two's relationship so she couldn't really pick out if the two were joking. She glanced back and forth quickly between the two. Did she think Smokethroat acts like an elder..? "I'm a bit late, I wasn't here long enough to imply. When I think of elders, I think of a chatty old cat telling stories to kits and sunbathing all day or whatnot. So what does he mean by that?" She raised a brow in confusion as she answered. He didn't look like an elder, and she noted the healing injuries. Elders don't fight, at least from what she thought. They were too frail, bodies are starting to give up on them. She didn't see that. Smokethroat fought from what she could see, looking him up and down after he had asked. Bravery to defend his clan and won, that was some youth. She would congratulate him but she didn't want the two to express more tension towards each other. "Elders don't fight, so I guess there's that answer," she bluntly pointed out, her face blank of expression.

She shrugged at Crappiepaw's comment, unbothered, and quite frankly she agreed. She was better than nothing but there were better warriors to talk to. But it did quite irritate her a minor amount he had to say it to her face. What a nerve he had. She tried to brush it off despite being sensitive and listened to his explanation. Sick. Of course, why not. She felt she had to press on what happened, but she didn't allow herself. She didn't want to cause tension, sometimes that was a touchy subject and she found herself caught in the same question. Her ears flattened for a quick second and then perked back up. Don't let your emotions control you again. "Honestly, I ate something I wasn't supposed to." Intentionally. "That's all I remember, It sliced out my memory," she added, making her tone as neutral as possible. Here she is, a prime example of what the wrong plant can do to you. How dumb she looked.

"Hmm.. what are you both proud of the most?" She may as well not leave Smokethroat out of the equation. Socially, that would kind of be rude. Now, she didn't like to hear others be cocky, but she liked to hear a good story now and then. She examined her paws as she waited, assuming the two would most likely have a good moment. Every cat did unless you always experienced misfortune. Or, quite frankly, in her situation. She knew she had one, she just didn't remember. It was fun, however. She knew she wouldn't get this question flung back at her. Listening was way more fun. She was honestly excited to hear an engaging story, but she masked that and acted as if the question was to entertain them. It was in a way, she had nothing else to offer but to ask them questions. Why wouldn't a question to put them in a good spotlight be unwanted? She was sure Smokethroat had the best story since he had a few handfuls more experience in life. But maybe Crappiepaw had something interesting to offer. This was a good way to get to know them better.

[⋆]​

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