Post by ♛ 𝔽𝕒𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 on Apr 28, 2022 5:21:22 GMT -5
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RAVENPAW
[newclass=".raven-content b"]color:#9679ff;[/newclass]
RAVENPAWmedicine cat apprentice 8 he/him pronouns
Open your eyes, choking on his breath.
Open your eyes, choking on his breath.
[attr="class","raven-content"]The walls of the medicine den echoed with the harsh sounds of coughing, the pungent stench of sickness a familiar scent to wake up to each time he opened his eyes. Even he had not avoided catching a mild case of the dreadful chest infections that had swept into GaleClan's camp. A cough shuddered up from his chest, much milder than the ones he heard coming from the chambers in the burrows where they kept their patients.
On shaky white paws, he forced himself out into the main area, his head spinning from the stress of trying to help Kindleflare take care of so many sick cats when he himself had only just begun his training. Among the nests where the most severely ill cats slept was the tattered brown tabby pelt of his own father, a tom he had barely known as more than just a clanmate. He had a tang of bitterness in his mouth that he had to force himself to push away. Harestrike was sick and needed help, just like every other cat there. Ravenpaw forced himself to trot over to the pile of moss that had been laid at the entrance. Every warrior that was healthy enough was pitching in to fetch water and food for the sick where they could.
The first cat he approached with the water was Mudpelt. The dusky brown tom had only just retired, it was painful to see him so weak that he couldn't lift his head. "Here, Mudpelt. Try to drink." Ravenpaw croaked, plopping the brownish soaked moss down next to the tom's muzzle. He was so glad that they had dried out collected moss from Leaf-fall to make it last through the cold season. He didn't think Mudpelt would have been able to make it to water.
On shaky white paws, he forced himself out into the main area, his head spinning from the stress of trying to help Kindleflare take care of so many sick cats when he himself had only just begun his training. Among the nests where the most severely ill cats slept was the tattered brown tabby pelt of his own father, a tom he had barely known as more than just a clanmate. He had a tang of bitterness in his mouth that he had to force himself to push away. Harestrike was sick and needed help, just like every other cat there. Ravenpaw forced himself to trot over to the pile of moss that had been laid at the entrance. Every warrior that was healthy enough was pitching in to fetch water and food for the sick where they could.
The first cat he approached with the water was Mudpelt. The dusky brown tom had only just retired, it was painful to see him so weak that he couldn't lift his head. "Here, Mudpelt. Try to drink." Ravenpaw croaked, plopping the brownish soaked moss down next to the tom's muzzle. He was so glad that they had dried out collected moss from Leaf-fall to make it last through the cold season. He didn't think Mudpelt would have been able to make it to water.
You grimace, then smile.
300 words
