Re: WindClan Apprentices' Den
CLOSED; PLEASE DO NOT REPLY. I WILL MAKE AN OPEN POST IN THE CLEARING AFTER THIS ONE.
CONTENT WARNING: The spoiled sections of this post contain depictions of intense sickness and depression caused by the sickness. Please do not read it if you think this will bother you.
~ TULIPPAW OF WINDCLAN ~
Dainty calico she-cat with sleek fur and rich, vivid green eyes.
Official ref sheet can be viewed here.
The world was fading.
Dark shadows reached up on all sides, cast by the thick walls of the apprentices' den. They crept toward the frayed moss nest resting in the gloomiest corner, which reeked of sickness and a decaying body. But its inhabitant wasn't dead. Tulippaw lay curled on the soft green moss and woven grass with half-closed eyes as dull as those decorating the corpses of fresh-kill, her pathetically small body reminiscent of a dying flower. A beautiful calico pelt, white glowing in the persistent darkness and orange and black blending into it, covered a frame that was naught more than skin and bones. It had been lovely and dainty once; its fur covering, too, had been thick and lush, with stunning green eyes glinting against a rounded face. But now that pelt was thin and patchy, slightly slicked down but nowhere near its former glory, with the occasional ungroomed tuft and smidgen of moss decorating it. Dry, crusted eyes were set deep in a sunken face, and snot trickled from a perfect pink nose. No, this was not the same Tulippaw who had strutted around camp with her head and tail held high, showcasing her beauty for all to see and begging for the attention of her Clanmates.
This Tulippaw was hiding in the darkest corner of the apprentices' den, sheltering her weakening body from the critical eyes of the Clan. At first, she'd hidden signs of her illness behind a sweet smile and forcefully brightened eyes, brushing it off as nothing more than a sniffle and a slight protrusion of the ribs caused by the dreaded leaf-bare. It had been easy enough to strut about, hunting prey and stomaching a mouse here and there, supplementing lost calories with snow. My Clanmates like it when I'm strong and don't display discomfort even if they should be flocking to me for something as minor as a gorse thorn in my paw, she'd thought pompously. As the sickness got worse, reality trickled into her determined illusion; the symptoms had been dreadful, the hunger mixed with nausea, the soreness in her throat, the stinging dryness of her eyes and nose despite the snot constantly trickling from it. Memories of her missing family and missing or dead friends struck her with waves of loneliness and terror. Oh, poor me, giving up everything for my Clan! she'd lamented. They'll see soon enough what they've done. She'd been planning some dramatic reveal of her illness, something that would make her Clanmates incredibly upset for the poor apprentice who had given up everything.
But everything had gone from dreadful and dramatic to draining and dull.
Her vision was constantly dark. Sunlight glinting from the entrance of the den she viewed as a haven nearly blinded her. She could hardly smell the foul odor rising from her nest, something she doubted the other apprentices would notice since she slept so far away from them, but she didn't care. Her ears barely picked up on conversations; words slipped out of her grasp like a fish slipping through water, skimming the surface of her brain before being lost. Teeth gnawed at her stomach and bones when she shifted even slightly, but she'd grown used to it. Stay still, don't move, and the teeth stop. Or at least, they aren't as painful. Her breath rattled in her feeble chest; sometimes, she wondered if her heart had stopped beating.
Everything had faded to a dull ache, if that. Tulippaw could hardly process emotions. She could barely feel. The popularity that had been so important to her, her grand plans, her resentment, her feelings of self-importance... they were gone. Even her pelt, which she had kept clean no matter her physical state, was losing the touch of frenzied cleanliness. She cleaned it on occasion, but her licks were half-hearted, and if she was too tired to continue, she ignored the tufts of fur that stuck up and the bits of her nest that had woven its way into her calico hairs. Occasionally, she saw Dusktalon's familiar dark, brawny figure, those copper eyes gleaming at her with joyful menace, or she thought of someone who might hit her, or everyone hating her, and fear sprang like a clear stream in her heart. Or she thought she could sense the presence of a family member or friend, but when she got excited and focused on it, she realized she was what she was never destined to be: alone. But it always faded to that familiar nothingness.
She didn't know what to do. She couldn't do anything but lay here, hoping she'd get better. The next day might bring something nicer... maybe she'd wake up and find out that StarClan deemed her special enough to heal her instantly with their powers.
Weakly, Tulippaw gazed at the entrance of the apprentices' den. As usual, the sunlight pouring inside was blinding, scalding her eyes with the force of fire. She screwed them up against it, wishing she could retreat to the darkness, another place she didn't belong. But... but...
Ugh, this light was so bright. Uncomfortably bright. So golden...
A strong breeze blustered past the round hole where every apprentice except Tulippaw entered and exited, and it breached her clogged nose. She breathed it in, a brief trickle of gladness making its way into the misery that swamped her. Fresh air was always nice. But this air was different than the cold leaf-bare breeze. It was warm. Comforting. And it carried the touch of newleaf.
Newleaf.
Growth and renewal.
Leaf-bare was going away. When it was warm... Tulippaw would get better.
Hope wormed its way through her weakening heart, and the organ pumped it through her veins alongside her blood. Newleaf... Newleaf... Joy joined the hope and, though her eyes remained dull, a faint spark that didn't reach them physically seemed to appear. Warm air. She'd been in her warm nest, sheltering from the harsh leaf-bare winds, but... it was warm now. Warmer. That meant grass and flowers and the end of sickness. She was going to get better. Surely... surely it was a sign from StarClan? From her family, who was bound to return any day now? That has to be it. Or it could just be getting warmer, but... Tulippaw desperately wanted to believe it. She had to feel the newleaf air. She had to get outside. The sunlight, which she had cringed away from, became beautiful and inviting. She had to feel it on her pelt. She... she didn't want to be in the apprentices' den any longer.
The thirteen-moon-old calico braced her small, delicate paws beneath her, then forced herself into a standing position. Her legs trembled like heather stems in a violent storm, her knees knocking, and her heart stuttered. Breathing became difficult; a wave of light-headedness washed over her entire body, and she almost collapsed. But somehow, miraculously, she kept her paws grounded in the mossy depths of her rank nest. She shut her eyes tightly as phlegm gathered in her throat and threatened to make her hack violently. Stay upright. Stay upright. You can do this... Have to reach the sunlight... Maybe the brightness and warmth would scare Dusktalon away? Burrpelt?
Tulippaw opened her eyes, and the world spun. She took several deep breaths and prayed to StarClan that she wouldn't cough. She cared about her ancestors even though they'd turned a blind eye to her. She should've been prioritized, but... they had to look after everyone, right? Every WindClan cat? Every Clan cat? Some ignorant warriors must've just... forgotten about her. But she hoped they could hear her now. Apparently not, because she coughed violently, hacking up green-tinted phlegm that spattered on her chest fur. But... no, they could! She rocked, but she didn't fall. Tulippaw was still on her paws.
She lifted her head. Her face was sunken and bony, but it felt like there was a rock on top of her neck. One paw in front of the other... Tulippaw's voice played in her head, but she had a memory of Pheasantgaze saying that to her and her siblings in the nursery as they learned how to walk with perfect posture. Tears threatened to break through her eyes, and they burned painfully, but they didn't fall. Come... on... She rose a paw into the air and briefly put it down. Walking wouldn't be easy. Her head lurched, the teeth in her stomach bit deeper, her brittle bones and wasted muscles sang in protest...
But Tulippaw kept going. Shaking, stumbling, her paws barely leaving the ground as she rocked like a leaf in an overflowing river, she made her way across the den, previously her haven and now her prison. She tore nests apart with her fumbling paws and flailing legs, but she didn't care. The glowing sunlight burned her retinas. She had to reach it.
She had to.
Then... then she was there. At the entrance.
She'd made it.
Now she had to go out.
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