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Post by Deleted on Dec 16, 2018 3:02:34 GMT -5
WARRIOR | NIGHTCLAN | 30 MOONS The day had offered a cold, empty light, and by the time night came, Rookshade was wishing he had twice as much fur as he did. It was freezing outside. The skies were clear and stars illuminated pure and white in the black blanket of night. The tortoiseshell tom was so grateful for the evergreens surrounding most of Nightclan territory, for there was a gelid wind that pushed its way between the trunks still, and Rookshade could only imagine the bite of that very breeze on open ground. I like it right where we are. Rookshade thought, sitting patiently outside of camp beside the Ambush Pond.
It was a blessing to have camp so warm and cozy underground, but it made being outside in the weather so much more uncomfortable. He was one of the few cats volunteering for hunting and patrols, though the tom didn't have high hopes for spotting quarry.
If I were prey, the last place I'd be is outside right now. Rookshade mused, glancing at the frozen water. The patrols hadn't left yet, and he knew he should get on the move to get a head start, though he felt reluctant today. It wasn't normal, him feeling lazy, though everything seemed like a big effort. The black and ginger tom thought that maybe if he volunteered himself out for chores, maybe the exercise would make him feel better, but with each breath he took, his lungs ached. Inhales and exhales were more raspy than they were the day before, and he was wheezing ever so faintly. His throat felt dry, but no matter how much he drank, it felt scratchy. Rookshade felt uncomfortable approaching the medicine cats for help, but it was evident his symptoms weren't healing by themselves.
The tom stayed sitting by the water, its surface long since frozen solid. His pelt looked well groomed, though his skeleton seemed far more visible than his clanmates. He made sure to stay out of camp and alone for the most part, an effort to be not only productive, but also to distance himself away from the medicine cats and the rest of the clan. He felt uncomfortable being watched over, and perhaps his perseverance has faded to an inherent and unkind stubbornness with his deteriorating health.
He didn't want to be sick, but he didn't want to be taken care of either. He was a tom, a warrior: he needed to be taking care of his clan, not the other way around! Rookshade let slip a nasty cough and pulled himself to his paws. How foolish. He thought to himself, standing weakly. Hunting was not a good idea today. On unstable paws, he headed back towards camp in an incredible effort to find Shadowchaser. The last thing he wanted to do was to get his clanmates sick too.
On his way back, he met a small group of cats leaving for a border patrol, and they readily invited him. Despite his recent pondering, Rookshade obliged, turning back into the territory and bringing up the rear.
He was curious how the Treeclan border was faring, and one more day in the cold shouldn't hurt.
"So, how have you all been faring?" Rookshade rasped, trying to keep his distance. The last thing he wanted was for them to suspect a vulnerability, so the tom made a final attempt to renew some of his usual exuberance.
It seemed to work.
LEAVE NO STONE UNTURNED Rookshade Word Count: 584 Tags: Fawn (Shadowchaser mention) Hellion Notes: Would be a good opportunity for a Stormripple post Heli?
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Post by Fawn on Jan 22, 2019 19:29:58 GMT -5
curiosity is not a sin... ...but we should exercise caution with our curiosity Shadowchaser A brief excursion to the ambush pond for a drink turned out more interesting than Shadowchaser had expected. One dusky ear swiveled, catching a very rough, labored cough from a Clanmate who couldn't have been too far away. He shook the water droplets from his whiskers and trod with careful, determined steps to investigate what could be the first few signs of Whitecough or (StarClan forbid) Greencough.
It was the cat lagging behind on the most recent outgoing patrol; tortoiseshell fur and a slight rasp to his breathing, Rookshade stuck out like a greenleaf shoot in leafbare. Shadowchaser apologized for being in their way, but as Rookshade drew closer, Shadowchaser held out his tail to act as a buffer to the young warrior, trying to have a quick word.
"May I speak with you, Rookshade? I need your help with something." Shadowchaser suppressed a soft chuckle, marveling at the traits that seemed to run as rampant in this Clan as wildfire. Pride was something NightClan hardly had a monopoly on, but it was something they certainly had in spades. What else would stop a warrior from visiting him or Smokefur, when they were clearly unwell?
When the patrol was out of earshot, Shadowchaser spoke again. "Follow me, I'd like to examine you for sickness. It won't take long."
Shadowchaser's ear flicked, and the urge to lean in to listen to Rookshade's lungs was an impulse he had to ignore. For now. The young healer felt uncomfortable lecturing any cat that wasn't kin, but if Rookshade was harboring the first few signs of Greencough... Then pride be damned, he had to let the warrior know how dangerous it was (and not just for himself) to ignore those signs or just hope they'd go away on their own.
Herbs were precious in leafbare, but lives? Even more so. medicine cat of nightclan @jet | jk rowling | background image | table by phoenix
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Post by Deleted on Jan 25, 2019 2:52:42 GMT -5
WARRIOR | NIGHTCLAN | 30 MOONS Rookshade's heart dropped to his paws when Shadowchaser approached, and frankly, the medicine cat was the last cat he wanted to be around right now. He could hardly hold his cough in around his clanmates, and although he obliged and followed the healer, Shadowchaser's next comment didn't entirely catch Rookshade off-guard. He tried to hide the cough, but the senses of a medicine cat were unparalleled.
Shadowchaser probably heard, saw, or smelled something wrong, no doubt.
Needless to say, the medicine cat's words didn't stop Rookshade's heart from pattering like the pawsteps of fleeing prey. Examine for sickness? He thought nervously, stopping drastically as soon as the words slipped from the tom's mouth. The tortoiseshell's ears flicked back uncomfortably and he shifted his weight in concern. For as small as Rookshade was, he had never really gotten sick before, nothing more than a stomach bug. He had been left alone most of his life. He was always a healthy cat. He's not going to condemn me to the medicine den? Or camp, or make me lay in a nest for a moon? Rookshade's mind went from concern to chaos in the blink of an eye. He saw sick cats before, bed-ridden and weak.
He all of a sudden felt queasy.
"Oh, uh, I'm fine. Really." He said, backing up a few steps and looking over his shoulder as the patrol disappeared into the woods. He glanced back at Shadowchaser. "I should really be getting back to...uh..."
His eyes flickered between the medicine cat's gaze and his paws as he fumbled over his last words. The weather all of a sudden brought him slowly down on his haunches, and he seemed to lose all of his bravado, succumbing to the weight of his body, hoarseness of breath, and chill of leaf-bare. His pelt was noticeably bedraggled and messy. Rookshade didn't have a drop of energy to groom himself after long nights of unrest and discomfort.
"I just maybe want to go back and stay in camp today." He muttered, mildly downcast. Perhaps it was shame that made his chest tight. Perhaps it was infection.
The tom glanced up at the medicine cat, eyes dull and defeated. His energy had been dwindling lately and his nest had become his best friend, even though sleep never came easy. Rookshade's usual liveliness and professionalism was growing more and more absent from both his gaze and posture as the sickness progressed, and his appetite dwindled. He knew he needed to be eating, but it was hard to keep food down.
He often found himself lying to others when they asked about what he ate in a day, and he justified it with one more piece of prey for his clanmates as he wasted away.
"Maybe do you have something that might help me sleep?" He rasped, trembling as a rough, chesty cough escaped his maw. "I, uh, haven't been sleeping well."
The more he sat in the chill, the more he thought that maybe being condemned to camp wasn't such a curse after all.
LEAVE NO STONE UNTURNED Rookshade Word Count: 522 Tags: Fawn Notes: xxx
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Post by Fawn on Jan 25, 2019 22:54:14 GMT -5
curiosity is not a sin... ...but we should exercise caution with our curiosity Shadowchaser Rookshade looked worse for wear, even when his bravado drained out of him and he slumped into a sit, allowing Shadowchaser the chance to conduct a full examination. Rather than start, however, Shadowchaser gently coaxed the warrior back onto his paws with promises of getting him back to full health, and found a nest with recently changed bedding. "Sit, please. I have tansy that will help with your cough. The taste is... not pleasant, but I have chamomile to wrap it in; that should finally give you some peace of body and mind. Raise your paw, please? I need to check for fever."
The checkup would involve a series of questions and small examinations from the slim brown tom; there were many in the Clan who thought him a polite, studious fellow and nothing more. But here, Shadowchaser's gaze shown with knowledge and tenacity, as if he would find every ailment that plagued Rookshade and find a way to cure or soothe it. He loved his job, though there were many times his heart had broken, flaked apart by the death of a loved one or a cat he could not save.
Those always weighed so heavily upon the young medicine cat. But they had a restorative quality, too; even on days where he did not feel his best, he pushed to make sure he gave his best, knowing that if he did not, someone else would pay the price.
So Shadowchaser was thorough, bringing a dark nose to one of Rookshade's paw-pads, checking for any radiant heat that would indicate a fever. Even as he leaned, the raspy, unpleasantly rough quality of the warrior's breathing made his tail twitch with dislike; it brought back dark memories of seeing the life ebb from his father's broken form, greencough claiming cat after cat in that horrendous epidemic.
I'll give him catmint. I'd rather be safe than sorry. Chickweed was for lesser coughs, though it was easier to find and could be used to treat greencough - catmint was really the best. Like plucking out a weed, Shadowchaser wanted to stop Rookshade's sickness before it tried to spread.
"You're not going to like this, but I would appreciate it if you slept here in the medicine cat's den, with me and Smokefur." Luminous golden eyes raised from the tom's splotched tortoiseshell paws, looking at Rookshade. "You'll be able to return to the warrior's den after I'm sure your cough is gone. We can't risk getting anyone else sick." Especially not Foxstar.
StarClan forbid she catch anything else on top of whatever mysterious ailment plagued her. medicine cat of nightclan @jet | jk rowling | background image | table by phoenix
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Post by Deleted on Feb 14, 2019 12:44:17 GMT -5
WARRIOR | NIGHTCLAN | 30 MOONS Rookshade listened to Shadowchaser dully, mindlessly obeying his commands, though when the chocolate furred medicine cat mentioned that he would be sleeping in the medicine cat's den until he was cured, Rookshade wanted to cringe. He held his composure, though his accepting nod was slightly downtrodden, a cue easily picked up from the more analytical and observant types.
Rookshade sank into the nest Shadowchaser had led him too. It made sense, staying away from the others, but the scents of herbs was overpowering, the perfume of the medicine cat's den making his head spin slightly. The tortoiseshell tom lay quietly, and although the darkness of the den made his eyelids heavy and mind numb, Rookshade stayed awake. He always toiled with the conflicts of the clan in his head, his mind more recently drawn to Foxstar's reign or lack-thereof.
There was no question that there was something odd with the NightClan leader, though Rookshade didn't have the heart to ask her himself. The medicine cats where just as good an avenue to get an answer, or to stifle his curiosity with a sharp remark.
If it wasn't his business, Shadowchaser would tell him, though Rookshade felt like it wasn't just his business:
If something was wrong with Foxstar, the whole clan should have the right to know. A weakened leader puts the whole clan at risk, though the tortoiseshell tom could understand keeping it a secret. Keeping order to the masses was necessary, and if the medicine cats admitted to the clan of their leader's ailment or condition, what would happen then?
NightClanners were proud folk, and bending to the will of the weak never lasts long.
Rookshade's selfish desire to know prevailed though, and after a few moments of silence, he questioned Shadowchaser cautiously.
"Shadowchaser," He started, somewhat uncomfortably. "what's wrong with Foxstar?"
LEAVE NO STONE UNTURNED Rookshade Word Count:317 Tags: Fawn Notes: xxx
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Post by Fawn on Feb 15, 2019 9:26:09 GMT -5
curiosity is not a sin... ...but we should exercise caution with our curiosity Shadowchaser "Shadowchaser," He started, somewhat uncomfortably. "what's wrong with Foxstar?"
The young healer's nose hesitated over a collection of herbs in the back of the den. Of course this question had been coming. It had been a matter of when, not if. I wish I knew, he lamented in private, hoarding the few precious seconds he had of gathering tansy, catmint and chamomile to form a satisfactory answer. He was a medicine cat; he could not speak on Foxstar's behalf, it would not be proper, but so too did he have a duty to the Clan.
"She's over seventy moons," said Shadowchaser as he turned, a brief silence lapsing as he brought a mouthful of herbs to Rookshade's nest. "The older a cat gets, the longer it takes to recover to full health. The fox attack was brutal for all of us." His stomach panged a hollow note, remembering vividly the chaos of that one awful Greenleaf night.
It seemed as if they'd endured more than their fair share of hardship - but the trials were not over yet. What if Foxstar never recovered? She has more lives, he thought, but was that any consolation if her mysterious ailment simply came back? It was not contagious, he knew as much. But it was... worrying.
And, for all the lives StarClan had given her, the possibility of Foxstar losing even one to a sickness he and Smokefur could not cure put his heart in a state of unrest. Isn't there something we can do?
"Chew these first," he slid a single leaf of catmint toward the tom. "And then these two together, which will help with the taste. I'll have an apprentice bring you some soaked moss. It's important you drink and eat enough."
The slim chestnut tom caught Rookshade's eye, speaking in a level, honest tone. "I know leafbare will be tough, and eating more than your fair share is going to feel wrong, but NightClan needs every warrior we've got to be ablebodied. So eat and rest now, then you can return to your duties."
Shadowchaser smiled, hoping it was encouraging enough to make this rest period easier on Rookshade's conscience. "You'll be fit as a finch in spring before long." medicine cat of nightclan @jet | jk rowling | background image | table by phoenix
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