well get you up and going out of bed - open; sick :)

[flowercloud.]

ill make a cup of coffee for your head​

---

Sometimes when FlowerCloud was stressed, she'd sit back and close her eyes. She took herself to a happy place, very distant memories hazy and unclear, where she would be snuggled with a warm body. Just the comfortable feeling of being small and not knowing the struggles of adult hood, having an innocence and free mind of anxiety. A child, snuggled up to somebody. Of course, it was Crowmask, but, the memories were there and held onto tightly. But this stress clawed up her stomach. Her mind spun as she woke up to an oddly too bright den entrance, hissing as she threw a paw over her face.

Her eyes seemed to take forever to adjust, the green hues dry and irritated, finally lumbering her large form out of the den. The sun had risen to its peak, her eyes slitting in pure irritation at the fact her body had decided to sleep until now. Awful. Her large head shooke side to side, teeth gritting as her vision seemed to spin. Her throat burned, and the coughing that escaped her body, shaking her large form. She slept in, yet, she felt unrested. Like she hadn't slept at all.

FlowerCloud typically had an immunity to sicknesses, and maybe if that it was just a cold. But this? Her body ached, and her limbs that usually held her up easily, well they began to shake. Her body fell to be supported by the dens wall. Perhaps, it was just heat exhaustion, she had patrolled the day before. The sun bore down on her now, but... she felt cold underneath her thick fur. She had not wanted to bother Dawnglare. It was the anxiety of asking for help. She helped others, and she knew herself to not help herself. She needed to eat the words and advice that she often gave to others, but it was harder than just telling herself to suck it up.

The large female's eyes would try to steady upon the ground. Just trying to focus. She knew what she had to do, she had to go bother the medicine cat, yet, it was a scary thought. Her paw tried to drag herself forward, before coughing erupted her body and sent her diving into the dirt. Did- did she need help to get there? Did her foolishness of not alerting the medicine cat the day before get others sick?

"D-dawnglare," Her words choked out, a weak attempt to get someone to help her, just to make it there. Her voice scratched and tore at her throat, and more coughing began, her head pressed into the dirt to prevent the growing headache.

The world spun, her eyes rolling to try to get it to stop, as if that would help.

---

"speech"

---

OOC CURRENT STATS INTERACTION RULES

• text
• She / Her - 17 moons - Skyclan Warrior - Therapist (TM) - No injuries.... yet :3
• [information on interactions. Can copy/paste from tags to make easier to look at]

​

 

[DUSKPOOL]

anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The lumbering male had just returned from another patrol when he caught sight of Flowercloud’s collapsing frame. Shit. He pivoted, barely catching her words for the medicine cat, teeth-gritting at yet another cat collapsing from whatever illness that ran rampant through camp.

“Dawnglare!” His voice boomed across camp, alerting whoever, and hopefully the medicine cat, or his apprentice. His muscles coiled, pivoting on enormous paws to shield the molly from the blinding light, molten copper narrowing. “They’re comin’ kid.” He rumbled, chest vibrating, glancing over his shoulder, expression indifferent.

/ shouted for @DAWNGLARE or @Fireflypaw !​

​

thought speech​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

FIGFEATHER ♀​ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥​

Figfeather watches the scene with wide, horrified eyes. With Duskpool already at the scene offering his aid, she finds herself ashamed to feel content in staying to the sidelines. If this was the same illness that plagued Tallulahwing, within a few days Flowercloud would die. Figfeather could not contract whatever she carried, she was not ready to die. Instead she sends a prayer to StarClan for the she-cat, ”Please help our medicine cats heal Flowercloud.” It seemed all anyone in SkyClan could do was pray now, everything else was up to their ancestors.

 

[BLAZESTAR]

Another falls, and Blazestar comes to her aid as swiftly as he can. Flowercloud’s hulking tabby body crumples across camp, her eyes rolling and feverish. Figfeather cowers, perhaps remembering how quickly her former mentor had succumbed to the illness, and Duskpool yowls for Dawnglare and Fireflypaw, shielding the she-cat with the bulk of his own body. Blazestar pads to her side, his eyes closing as he does his best to steady the fearful beating of his heart. “Flowercloud, it will be okay. I’ll help you to the medicine cat’s den.”

She’s a warrior of fearsome size, some cat coveted by housefolk for soft thick fur and enormous size, and Blazestar struggles to shove his shoulder against her side in an effort to get her to her paws. Few cats would be able to help him move her—Duskpool could, but Blazestar gives him a soft shake of the head. “I don’t want any of you getting sick if we can avoid it,” he tells both Duskpool and Figfeather. “Come on, Flowercloud… let’s get you to a nice soft nest…” Sweat bursts beneath his thick fur. Oh, he’s watching SkyClan fall to their deaths around his paws…

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — blaise . blazestar
  — he/him ; leader of skyclan
  — pansexual ; divorced ; single
  — longhaired flame point Ragdoll with blue eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Mercibun

​

 

[edenberry ?!]

It is not the first time they'd witnessed such a panicked response... nor the tell-tale signs of Flowercloud's incoming suffering. SkyClan had been riddled with small bouts of coughing and it always started so small! Really it was... it was... just something small... But how did that explain the way Dawnglare struggled to help them? He had mentioned once... in brief passing... about some sort of flower being poisonous, that it shouldn't be handled much less ingested. Maybe... that had been an omen the medicine cat hadn't realized?

His worry about poisoned flowers and now... a Flower... poisoned. Not necessarily with the real thing yanno, obviously no one would be crazy enough for real poison... but....

Lingering away from the close distance that Blazestar held to the new victim, Edenpaw had no desire to find themself among those herb-drowned nests. Besides... their Twolegs might notice something was amiss if they did.

With perked ears they could make out the sound a small prayer being uttered nearby. Did Figfeather think she was going to die...? Could StarClan actually do anything? Edenpaw thought they were just a bunch of nosy ghosts. Nosy ghosts with life powers. Maybe Blazestar could just, uh... Absorb! Yeah... absorb all of the sick and make it go away. He had lives to spare, they'd been told he had as many as nine at one point! Maybe that was what he was trying to do here.

"Good job Blazestar," they offer a meager encouragement to the frazzled leader, offering a smile to reassure him despite the way it did not reassure Edenpaw themself.​

 

[DAWNGLARE]

His name called. He is no stranger to such. Apparently – and perhaps he wishes that he’d known – such a thing was commonplace in his line of work. with paws made to mend, your name in a prayer may become as commonplace as that of a god’s. And of course – the thought made him giddy, at first. It would be the same for anyone.

But now, when he is caught; desperate call wrung around his throat to pull him into a sickness - filled clearing, he is nervous, stress pouring off him in frantic waves. His fur ruffles at the call, and momentarily, he is frozen in between whatever he was doing last ( As if that too, was not tending to the ill ). An extended pause, and the Medicine Cat is creeping from his den, tail dragging in a manner it never would otherwise; discarded willow wood at his back. Another fallen one is half - draped across the side of the leader, and it takes a moment too long for Dawnglare to recover from the sight of him.

Belatedly, he registers misplaced matyrdom, and his own distress keeps him from openly scoffing. And what of yourself? he would so like to say. But, why should he value a life that the very soul did not value themselves?

Besides that, he agrees. He casts a frown to Figfeather, the warrior who has spent far too much time in his den already, once upon a time..

" Yes, yes… " he is mumbling along idly, watching the warrior with dull eyes. He would certainly do what he could, but so far, that has proven to be nothing. An apprentice tells their leader, good job, and without a thought, Dawnglare says, " Doing what? " confusion genuine on his weary face. He did not think Blazestar was the one crouching over herbs all day and night. No, he did not think so. Blazestar has been a big oaf for the past dozen seasons.

After a moment of hesitation, Dawnglare would come to the warrior's other side, attempting to urge her to somewhere where she would not infect others. " What are you feeling, F-flowercloud? ...Talk to me. " the name comes to him belatedly, and Dawnglare gazes upon her with flittering eyes, as if gazing in one spot for long enough was simply too much. He may perhaps never know each and every symptom, for the victims so far proved too decapacitated to say much. Walking so close to the clan's leader ruffles his fur more than the sickness already did. Nevermind his own dry throat.

OOC 𓆩♡𓆪 8.22.2023 𝘚𝘠𝘕𝘖𝘋𝘐𝘊 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘖 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘌 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘐𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎

• OOC: apologies for the delay!!!

• 

• ( 𝙒𝙃𝙔'𝘿 𝙄𝙏 𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀 𝙎𝙊 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂? ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  —— He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  —— Currently 55 moons old. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  

  Currently in an era of questioning; upset and uncomfortable by things he should not be.​

  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

​

 

[flowercloud.]

Her voice was strained, and as the barely familiar cat approached closer, his voice boomed in replace of her own for the medicine cat. "Thank you," she slurred out, her voice straining.

The large warrior could barely notice the other cats around her, trying to get a grip of reality versus inward thoughts. Blazestars voice was recognizable, trying to focus on his as he spoke gently. Their was panic in the air, her heart thudding against sore lungs as coughs shook her body hoarsely.

She had been drinking lots of water, she was sure of it, but her mouth felt dryer than cracked dirt from lack of rain. She always took good care of herself, but all of this, it was abnormal to the young molly. "I'll be a'right," she tried to assure, whoever was pushing against her side to help her onto unsteady paws.

Or so she hoped.

One paw in front of the other. That's what she had to focus on, but the ground wavered.

She barely recognized or could follow where she was, but she recognized the indifferent voice of Dawnglare. He was working hard, for the clanmates around them, and she was only slowing his progress. She had messed up, she knew, pushing herself further than she should have. But the molly was never sick before, and thus, unrecognized what exactly was going on.

"Dizzy, cold, thirsty..." Her voice was still slurring together her words, but she tried hard to enunciate, keep her head above the water of the filling urge to sleep right here. A breath caught roughly, choking back a cough. "Pain." That one was clear as day.

"'m so sorry," she managed to get out, feeling quite selfish. Mouse brained. "Risking, yer life," she uttered.

The amber point stumbled, crouching down as more coughing erupted from her body. But she needed help, like many others.

She didn't want to die. She didn't want to leave Skyclan behind. She couldn't. Her breaths hoarse as she leaned back on the familiar orange pelt of Blazestar. Her words were barely coherent, a mix of thanks and mumbled breaths.

She just had a few more steps... right?