sensitive topics withering leaves | collapse

Nov 28, 2022
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Is she sick? Yes, to the point where she doesn't remember the last time whitecough has knocked her around so much. She's lived through two leaf-bares so far, including the one she'd been born in, but she's never been sick like this. Despite how awful she feels, Apricotflower thinks she's done an alright job of hiding that fact so far even if she is sleeping more and clearing congestion in her throat every few sentences. Still friendly, still social, still volunteering for every other hunting patrol so that RiverClan could eat.

It's one of those patrols that she finds herself on now, under an overcast sky that threatens to dump even more snow on their heads but her clogged nose makes it hard to track the sparse prey in the undergrowth and she's had no luck so far. As much as her scenting is compromised, however, her eyes still work - and she catches sight of a track now familiar. A water vole. That's promising - they aren't her favourite prey in the world but that doesn't matter if it'll be going straight to Willowroot and Beesong to keep their strength up. But it's all for moot when she stands up too quickly and immediately keels over again, sudden dizziness forcing her sideways with a small thump of impact.

The ground rushes up to meet her and Apricotflower sinks into the warm fuzziness of nothing without a single thought, consciousness fading briefly. It's only a few heartbeats before she resurfaces, at first assuming she's fallen asleep outside the warriors' den, but there's mud in her ear fur and when she cracks her eyes open there's multiple concerned muzzles peering down at her. Wait, down? She's exactly the same height as Snakeblink, did he hit a growth spurt mid patrol? No, that's stupid ... Apricotflower makes a questioning noise, alertness returning to her in fragments as she realises that she's on the ground.​

  • patrol tags: @CLAYFUR @Snakeblink @CLEARSIGHT

    this thread is open! feel free to jump in with a rc'er not in the hunting group<3
  • apricotflower, warrior of riverclan
    — no apprentice.
    ✦ 24 moons, she/her
    ✦ fluffy white and ginger cat with gold eyes. big scar on her left shoulder, little scars on her paws.
    ✦ bi, single. @ on discord for plots.
    "speech"thoughts

 
X0SKlVx.png



Snakeblink is worried, but when isn’t he, nowadays? It’s leaf-bare, preys are few, and between the skirmish at the Wind border and the other recent tragedies the clan has gone through, he has more than enough reasons to be stressed out. Today, though, his concern is focused on something more tangible, or rather someone.

Apricotflower is sick. She knows it, he knows it, it would take a fool not to notice the coughs she tries to muffle, yet here she is, on a patrol. Not resting. And Snakeblink isn’t saying anything — he senses that it would be a mistake somehow. He’s not scared of the molly, per say, he’s just… unwilling to ruffle her feathers. But he’s worried. Times are difficult enough as they are: they really can’t afford sick clanmates on top of it all. Could he ask the patrol to turn back, claiming it’s too cold out for prey, sneak back out with Clayfur and Clearsight and hope Apricotflower somehow takes the opportunity to rest? No, that would require them to listen to him and go back to camp in the first place, and patrols don’t just turn back in leaf-bare…

He’s paying more attention to that conundrum than he is to hunting, and ironically paying no attention at all to Apricotflower, which is why he’s entirely surprised when she suddenly wobbles and falls like dead weight on the ground. He has to make an awkward dance step sideways to avoid her falling against him; it occurs to him, afterward, that he should have broken her fall somehow.

”Apricotflower?”

There is no answer. Snakeblink leans over the molly, checking for her breath. He feels damp air against his cheek and lets out a sigh of his own, relieved. When he draws back, she’s already blinking her eyes open, looking muzzy and confused.

He turns to the rest of the patrol with a frown. ”We should get her to Beesong. Apricotflower, do you think you can walk?” He asks, leaning down again so their heads are level but keeping some distance lest she coughs on him.




  • Snakeblink • he / him. 35 ☾, riverclan warrior
    — a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
    — gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo


 


➵ The hunt has not gone well. None of them do, anymore.

The four of them have no meager catch to show for their efforts yet... just one very, very sick Apricotflower.

Of course he's noticed her state as well; Cicadastar did not grant him this name for nothing. But Apri's not a child. She's shown her mettle plenty since this clan formed, and if she's going to hunt, Clearsight won't be the one to stop her—not now, during leafbare, with warriors on death's doorstep and a litter on the way. They cannot all afford to rest.

He's not expectimg Apricotflower to go down.

She does—there's a sickening thump, and for a moment she looks so lifeless. Clearsight sucks in a sharp breath, responding almost as quickly as Snakeblink had—darting to Apricotflower's other side, blue tabby tail lashing. "Is she breathing?" he asks, quickly, gravely, though Snakeblink seems to be checking already—

But just as quickly she's blinking awake with a mrrow of confusion, and Clearsight's shoulders drop with relief.

"We need to get her to Beesong."

He nods in response to Snakeblink. "Definitely—Apri," he'll continue, tone still grave, sinking to meet her level as well, "are you able to walk? We need to get you back to camp. Stars, you scared us."

You're still scaring us, he thinks, looking into dazed, glossy eyes.

How did it get this bad...?

& we've all got battle scars ✗
 
The winter has come on strong, harsh in its grip upon RiverClan. Prey has become scarce—as this patrol has proven, with no catches whatsoever—and clan tensions are rising. Between their problems with WindClan and their problems with illness, surely Beesong must be running out of medicine and energy to help them all. If this is how the winter begins, how will the entire clan make it through? There's a pregnant queen, for crying out loud! They're struggling already, and they'll only continue to struggle as the season drags on.

Clay is aware that Apricotflower is sick and should not, under any circumstances, be out here attempting to hunt with them. He doesn't fear her illness, whatever it is; he hardly ever gets sick, even in the depths of the winter months. He just sits around and worries about his family, his friends, and now his clanmates (and his Clearsight). Helplessness is an all too familiar feeling for the brown tabby, and he feels it now, watching Apricotflower crumple on herself like a dry leaf as it falls from a tree.

"Apricot!" He takes a step toward her, stuttering, unsure. What can he do? He's not a healer or a thinker, he doesn't know how to help her! He hesitates, moves to step closer once again, but thankfully both Snakeblink and Clearsight are helping her already. They're on either side of her, guardian angels. For a moment he wonders whether she'll ever get up—he finally finds the nerve to rush closer, shoving his white snout close enough to look down into her face. His tail curls toward Clearsight's, trying to twine them together—comfort—and remains there until the she-cat finally, finally blinks her eyes open once again.

She's confused, he realizes. She must be so confused. Clayfur's dealt with a head injury bad enough to put his lights out before, he's familiar with the fuzziness, the disorientation of not even realizing what's happened. So rather than adding another question for her to answer, the hazel-eyed warrior murmurs, "You passed out, I think. You're okay, though, we just need to get you some help." He doesn't mention how sick she must be. Surely she knows that already, and there's no need to shove any other words onto her right now. Instead, he gives her a small smile, gentle. She's going to live, she hasn't collapsed and died on a hunting patrol. He hasn't lost another clanmate.
[ WHAT'S MY AGE AGAIN? ]
 
As disorientated as she is, Apricotflower takes comfort in the worry of her Clanmates ... for just a moment, anyway, because her attention drifts sideways, right to where the little trail in the snow had been just prior. She shoots straight upright. "There's a vole trail! Someone should follow that, Willowroot could eat tonight, I'll be fine- ough." Her consciousness draws back slightly, throwing her depth perception out, and she leans sideways again with a few heavy blinks. Maybe she's leaned against someone, but she doesn't register the warmth of her Clanmate against how hot she feels under her long pelt. Don't pass out, Apri. Don't do that to them again. She scolds herself, and takes a few deep breaths to steady herself. They've suggested she go to Beesong, and as much she doesn't want to bother her old mentor she knows they're right. This is their job as the Clan's healer.

"I can walk." She meows, sounding rather like she's deflated in the few heartbeats she was quiet. Steeling herself, she carefully stands up on nicked, chilly paws.
  •  
  • apricotflower, warrior of riverclan
    — no apprentice.
    ✦ 24 moons, she/her
    ✦ fluffy white and ginger cat with gold eyes. big scar on her left shoulder, little scars on her paws.
    ✦ bi, single. @ on discord for plots.
    "speech"thoughts

 
( ) Minnowpaw watches with eyes stretched wide with concern as Apricotflower suddenly goes limp and falls into the ground. She remains frozen as the warrior is comforted by her patrol and Minnowpaw wonders if she should double back and get Dogteeth so he can help as well.

Her ears would flicker as the warrior points out a vole trail, and finally feeling useful Minnowpaw hurries forward so that Apricotflower could see her without turning her head, "I'll catch the vole, I promise!" Her voice wavers with anxiety, but she tries to stay strong as she lightly touches her nose to the warrior in a sign of respect and promise before moving to follow the trail. She only hoped that Apricotflower had faith in her and would be able to rest once she got back to camp.

( BUT I WATCH YOUR EYES AS SHE; WALKS BY )
 
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beesong doesn't have time for leisure. he's always on his paws; looking after willowroot, worrying over the infection that's settled in smokethroat's eye socket, scouring the land for any trace of herbs. maybe that explains why he doesn't notice apricotflower's illness until she's collapsed- too focused on everything else that he doesn't see the minute accumulation of signs until she's snowballing downhill. maybe his inexperience with whitecough made it too difficult for him to pick up on it, with his attention so divided at the moment. but even if that is so, as beesong rushes over to his friend's side after stumbling across the patrol, he wants to claw at himself for not noticing sooner. what kind of a healer doesn't notice when his own friend is sick?

"i'm here," beesong breathes, a silent apology for not being there before apricotflower had declined so rapidly. she insists that she can walk, despite the sway in her unsteady step. but beesong still comes to her side. "you're coming to my den, even if i have to drag you there myself... you should've come to me long before now." beesong should've seen her signs. they're the one at fault, yet they still find a way to give apricotflower the responsibility of their blame. you're despicable.