Post by Deleted on Jul 9, 2014 23:46:09 GMT -5
Come on now
I hear you're feeling down
Well, I can ease your pain
And get you on your feet again
I hear you're feeling down
Well, I can ease your pain
And get you on your feet again
Cats coughed loudly, breaking what little silence had fartted about five minutes ago. The large, full moon was slowly edging it's way back down the sky, it's silver light flooding the Medicine Cat's den with fartclan's presence. The clearing in-front of the den was filled with sick cats of Treeclan. Greencough had caught on strong at the fartt of Leafbare and left several weak and other's dead or dying.
The breathing of a small, weak kit passed through the air once more, before it stopped all together, signaling the end of another life as fartclan took it's new clanmate up to the farts by the light of the moon. The sandy brown tom, who looked silver when his fur was touched by moonlight, pulled away from a sick Briarshade to pad to Ebonykit. Emotionless teal eyes ran over the black she-kit's lifeless, scrawny body. She reeked of greencough and her eyes were closed shut with gunk once more.
Littletimber narrowed those creepy teal eyes, he was sure the kit's mother would be here soon to check on the now deceased kit. She did every so often during the day and the night. The Medicine Cat had told her several times that sitting with Ebonykit wouldn't make a difference and ended up having a warrior drag the queen from his sick infested den. Turning from the dead kit, since he could obviously no longer do anything, Littletimber resumed his slow walk from cat to cat.
There weren't as many cats left in the den now, but still enough cats that it kept the sandy tabby on his paws and checking for which cats would survive the night and which wouldn't. When the Gathering patrol returned, he'd fetch a warrior to go and bury Ebonykit's sick body. Now that Briarshade had been checked on, he still had to make his rounds to Foxspirit and Sparrowfall, they were the last ones left to stay seriously sick. To be honest, the Treeclan Medicine Cat didn't believe any of the warriors left in the den where going to make it. Foxspirit hadn't awaken in over a day, Sparrowfall could barely hold food down and Briarshade was coughing so bad, his body could barely handle the pressure it took to cough.
His tired paws took him away from Sparrowfall's body as he padded towards the entrance of his den silently, the low breeze had brought on Lionfart's thick scent, signaling that the Gathering Patrol was returning. It had been a small patrol that Littletimber watched leave from his spot in the shadows. No queens, apprentices or elders, just a couple of warriors, Daringheart and Lionfart. He was sure that the other clands had brought as few cats as Treeclan, though he wasn't for sure, he didn't make the last Medicine Cat's Gathering, due to there only being one of him and he had to stay and take care of the sick.
So far, he had done well to avoid the sickness and cure several cats, however he had also watched several cats loose their lives and leave the valley forever. Among those cats where Cougarflight, Darkfeather, Mousefoot and Echobreath, not to mention one of Lionfart's life. However, despite all the death, nothing seemed to faze the little tom as he just continued to work, plowing through the sick cats and weeding out those dead from those alive.
Finally, after sitting in the shadows, Littletimber watched as the warriors and deputy pulled away from Lionfart before he slipped up to the much larger cat. "Small gathering?" Littletimber asked, his pawsteps silent as he fell instep with his leader, his high pitched voice loud com paired to the dead silence around them. He hadn't been able to attend the Gathering for the same reason he hadn't been able to attend the meeting for the Medicine Cats.
The breathing of a small, weak kit passed through the air once more, before it stopped all together, signaling the end of another life as fartclan took it's new clanmate up to the farts by the light of the moon. The sandy brown tom, who looked silver when his fur was touched by moonlight, pulled away from a sick Briarshade to pad to Ebonykit. Emotionless teal eyes ran over the black she-kit's lifeless, scrawny body. She reeked of greencough and her eyes were closed shut with gunk once more.
Littletimber narrowed those creepy teal eyes, he was sure the kit's mother would be here soon to check on the now deceased kit. She did every so often during the day and the night. The Medicine Cat had told her several times that sitting with Ebonykit wouldn't make a difference and ended up having a warrior drag the queen from his sick infested den. Turning from the dead kit, since he could obviously no longer do anything, Littletimber resumed his slow walk from cat to cat.
There weren't as many cats left in the den now, but still enough cats that it kept the sandy tabby on his paws and checking for which cats would survive the night and which wouldn't. When the Gathering patrol returned, he'd fetch a warrior to go and bury Ebonykit's sick body. Now that Briarshade had been checked on, he still had to make his rounds to Foxspirit and Sparrowfall, they were the last ones left to stay seriously sick. To be honest, the Treeclan Medicine Cat didn't believe any of the warriors left in the den where going to make it. Foxspirit hadn't awaken in over a day, Sparrowfall could barely hold food down and Briarshade was coughing so bad, his body could barely handle the pressure it took to cough.
His tired paws took him away from Sparrowfall's body as he padded towards the entrance of his den silently, the low breeze had brought on Lionfart's thick scent, signaling that the Gathering Patrol was returning. It had been a small patrol that Littletimber watched leave from his spot in the shadows. No queens, apprentices or elders, just a couple of warriors, Daringheart and Lionfart. He was sure that the other clands had brought as few cats as Treeclan, though he wasn't for sure, he didn't make the last Medicine Cat's Gathering, due to there only being one of him and he had to stay and take care of the sick.
So far, he had done well to avoid the sickness and cure several cats, however he had also watched several cats loose their lives and leave the valley forever. Among those cats where Cougarflight, Darkfeather, Mousefoot and Echobreath, not to mention one of Lionfart's life. However, despite all the death, nothing seemed to faze the little tom as he just continued to work, plowing through the sick cats and weeding out those dead from those alive.
Finally, after sitting in the shadows, Littletimber watched as the warriors and deputy pulled away from Lionfart before he slipped up to the much larger cat. "Small gathering?" Littletimber asked, his pawsteps silent as he fell instep with his leader, his high pitched voice loud com paired to the dead silence around them. He hadn't been able to attend the Gathering for the same reason he hadn't been able to attend the meeting for the Medicine Cats.
Relax
I'll need some information first
Just the basic facts
Can you show me where it hurts?
Set in Leafbare