[silver.]

eveningdance // he/him // 44 moons
purrks: -

---

Poppy ow...

The words shredded his heart into tiny little pathetic pieces. He couldn't even protect his own daughter from whatever was ailing them. Couldn't be strong enough to help the medicine cats nurse her back to health until she was a giggling bundle of joy once more. No, she wheezed and coughed and asked him for help that he couldn't offer. When Drizzlecloud approaches them, he can't even bring himself to move his head. Only his eyes stare at her through their corners as he lays and continues to heave, forcing himself to stop the tears that threaten to spill.

"She... She has been very warm... But cold..." He rasps, gaze now resting on his daughter. Can't help the way he frowns as she continues to wheeze against him. "And her breathing has... Has been harder... For her... And... Her stomach..."

As he rattles off her symptoms, his entire frame is wracked by violent coughs, which surprise even him. In his time of falling ill he hadn't done such a thing-- the way it forces his body to convulse is so painful. It feels like his entire body is on fire. So painful he doesn't even notice the spatter of blood that no decorates the medicine den floor from his fit. Dizzy... He was growing so dizzy again. The two cats that stand over them shift from side to side as he gazes forward, eyes sunken deep into his head and bloodshot from the lack of sleep he's dealt with. This really was it, wasn't it? There was no escaping it this time. Stars above, if he had known this sickness was going to kill him he would have come here sooner. Wouldn't have kept pushing. Wouldn't have written it off as just a case of whitecough. In his haze he thinks he sees another figure in the medicine den behind the two healers but it moves too fast for him to make out who was watching him.

Swallowing hard, he tries to focus, teeth bared in frustration as he desperately tries to force his eyes to stop making doubles of the two in front of him so he can continue to speak. Continue to tell them about their symptoms...

Was there even a point for him? Should he waste his breath on it? There was so much that would go left unsaid if he didn't start speaking now. And if anyone could be trusted to deliver his dying messages to his loved ones it was Drizzlecloud and Springpaw. Always reliable. Kind and warm. The tears begin to well again and he doesn't bother to try and stop them this time. Was he sad? Was he scared? He didn't know. All he knew is that he didn't have much time. Not enough time, he was running out of time--

"P-Please... Focus on my Poppy..." He whimpers, eyes pleading. "If you could pass on... Some words for me... I w-would... I'm not... Going to..."

Not going to what? Survive? He couldn't say that in front of his sick daughter. Couldn't put more stress on her like that. She was suffering enough and she was so unaware of their situation that he wasn't going to make it hurt more. Make it harder for his daughter to heal. She had to survive. Had to live on. Become a warrior, become what great cat he knows that she is going to be. The drive she had... The positivity... His Poppy was going to accomplish more than he ever could have dared to hope to of. So he doesn't finish his question. Just continues to talk.

"Eelkit... Plumkit, Acornkit... A-And Fawnkit... My little ones..." He mews weakly, staring at Springpaw desperately. "Tell them... Father loves them... So v-very much. T-Tell them they're so... Strong... And I'll be watching them... And I believe... In every one of them."

The tears begin to slide down his cheeks, dampening his fur. Squeezing his eyes tight and forcing back another cough, he continues to speak, not to either of them in particular but perhaps at this point in his delirium to whoever would listen.

"Mapleface... My... My girl... Mapleface, I... I was always so... Proud of you. So proud of you... You'll pull through... I know it... You'll be strong. You'll be... An amazing mother... Hopefully our little o-ones will grow close... I'm sorry I... I wasn't here to... See it."

It's so tiring. Speaking his feelings into the air like this. Not only was it emotionally exhausting but it seemed as though the more and more he spoke the lighter his body became. As if everything that sat so heavily on his shoulders was being lifted away by the glittering lights at the top of the den that he never remembered were there. Was it night? Were the stars listening to? He hopes so-- he can only hope that Starclan welcomes him and all his guilt.

drizzlecloud | @something. // springpaw | @eris // poppykit | @Estelle