Slatestripe was pleased that Pikestar was willing to consider his idea. “I understand wanting to talk it over with Fawnpaw first. Thank you for considering it.” He gave a quick dip of his head, then decided to breach the topic of his second idea. He could sense some uneasiness within the leader, but that was to be expected he supposed. A lot had happened in RiverClan lately, and Pikestar was still a new leader. It was understandable that it would take time for the oriental to adjust.
Before he could get out the second thing he’d come to talk over with Pikestar, something occurred to him. “Do you often think about all the leaders that have walked before you? Slept and ruled in this den?” He hoped he wasn’t overstepping his boundaries by asking. It was something he often thought about himself, when sleeping in the warriors’ den. “We have all our tales of cats whose time in RiverClan ended long ago. Yet, we have no physical representations of them. Any outsider who walked into this den, or any den, would be forgiven for thinking the living are the first to inhabit them.”
( @canineantics Quick OOC note- at the time Slate suggested this, I was unaware that birdie already had a first aid event planned. Just wanted to be sure I clarified that Slate isn’t trying to steal that event from Fawn /lh )
“Of course, it’s no problem.” Pikestar remarked, flashing Slatestripe a small smile, “I think it’s a wonderful idea to implement basic knowledge of herbs among our clanmates. Honestly, I don’t know why it’s not a normal practice in clan life already.” Perhaps it was in other clans and he was just not aware, because it certainly seemed like a useful way of preventing injuries or avoiding medicine cats from being overwhelmed. Regardless of all that though, the scarred oriental tomcat was thankful that the RiverClan warrior didn’t seem to take it personally. Pikestar often grew nervous of cats lacking any faith in young Fawnpaw and her abilities to be a good healer. He wanted to do his best to aid her in showing the whole world that she could do great things if given the chance. Perhaps Pikestar was biased since they were found-siblings, but he didn’t care what anyone else thought. All clan leaders should be able trust their medicine cats, always.
Stretching out his front paws so that his body didn’t turn stiff, the long-furred feline tilted his head inquisitively to the tom’s words. He lifted his head and glanced around his den for a moment, humming thoughtfully. “I’ll admit that it has crossed my mind here and there,” Pikestar said with a light huff followed by another soft smile, “I’ve actually thought about decorating my den more in the future. You know, with like, shells and flowers and whatnot. It would probably make this place feel a bit more lived-in if that makes any sense, haha.” Lately, the large tom had been too taken back by all the deaths and preparing for the cold season to focus on such things. Perhaps when newleaf came around, Pikestar would be able to have some fun with that. All that Slatestripe said intrigued the RiverClan leader though. “Perhaps our current generation can figure out a way to leave it’s permanent mark. A reminder to those who come after us.”
{ Of course, I completely understand that. I hope you felt no offense, Pikestar tends to assume and become defensive, whoops. }
Hearing the familiar voice of Fogcloud from outside, Pikestar turned his head towards the mouth of his den. “Of course, come in.” He meowed back, allowing the shield to enter with a curious tilt of his head, “What brings you to me today, hm? No more bad news, I’d hope.” RiverClan had enough bad luck lately since they had lost Skystar, and the large dark-furred tomcat was hoping things were finally starting to turn around for them. Thankfully, it would seem by the tone and lack of urgency in silver tabby’s movements that it was nothing life-threatening to which brought her to him on this cold day of leaf-fall. Pikestar could only hope that it would stay that way, but regardless, the tall oriental longhair was prepared to be faced with anything. He needed to be, especially during these difficult times.
Fogcloud entered into the den once given permission, shaking her head, "Luckily no bad news, rather good news actually." The silver tabby sat down and curled their tail around her paws, "Lilycreek found a kit when she had gone out hunting, he was rather skinny and she didn't want to leave the kit alone. She has taken the young kit as one of her own and she seemed...happy." Fogcloud knew that Lilycreek had lost her kits and had not been taken it well so to see her happy made them glad for her.
"I've accepted the kit in RiverClan, I couldn't in good conscious leave the kit out with leafbare and Lilycreek seemed to get some joy back. His name is Lynx and is rather hyperactive." Fogcloud said with a small huff of amusement as she remembered the young kit jumping around her.
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PIKESTAR { @birdie }
⸻⸻⸻⸻ From within the RiverClan leader’s den, Pikestar awoke in his nest immediately with a rough fit of coughing. The awful noises were loud and bounced off the walls of his den, while the sheer severity of them made his whole body tremble painfully. He groaned lowly when he was given a chance to breathe, though it was only for a few seconds. Then Pikestar struggled to his paws, his limbs shaking and his weight feeling ten times heavier than what it usually was. Oh stars above, what was going on with him? The large oriental muttered irritably under his breath, feeling his throat burning from the coughing. His vision felt blurry in his one good eye and every time he tried to take a step, a sharp strike of pain burst through his head. Goddamnit. “No no no…” Pikestar whispered, stepping towards his den’s entrance, “Not now.. not like this… I have so much to do…” He tried to reason with his own crumbling health, begging his body to function properly and not stop him from being a clan leader. They were so painfully close to leafbare. RiverClan needed him for guidance. Plus, what would they think of him, seeing their leader like this? Weak. Pathetic. Dependent. His legs buckled without warning and Pikestar fell to the ground, his body forcing another painful fit of coughing as his head pounded terribly. Tears began to form in the corner of his eye. How pitiful.
Fawnpaw
It was almost as if alarm bells were ringing in her head. Or maybe it was just pure luck that Fawnpaw had planned to visit her brother in his den to get caught up on everything that had happened while she was away. But as her pawsteps approached the den she perked her ears at a familiar sounds. Oh stars. Memories of Moose flooded her mind and it wasn't long before the young medicine cat doubled back towards her den to retrieve a few supplies before making her way back over.
"Is this my welcome back gift?" Setting the herbs down just to the side of her after having padded through the entrance (she knew her brother normally kept a closed den, but she'd be more than willing to show off her new and improved backbone if he tried to kick her out) and over to where Pikestar lay now. There was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes but it was quickly covered by concern as she leaned down to sniff at him. Something sickly seemed to be hanging about and she gave him a gentle lick over his ear. "How long have you been coughing?" Tone shifting into one of worry Fawnpaw crouched down so that she was eye-level with her brother, blue eyes imploring an answer from him.
PIKESTAR { @birdie }
⸻⸻⸻⸻ For the next couple moments, which felt like ages, the large dark-furred tomcat laid on the cold floor of his den. A distressed sniffle sounded from Pikestar as he pleaded silently to anyone who would listen for this to not be happening right now. He hated being sick. There had been various memories in his kithood where he had gotten sick for long periods of time. The RiverClan leader could still hear his mother’s annoyed sighs and irritation in her tone as he wouldn’t get better as soon as she would’ve liked. “You can’t just shut down and expect the world to stop for you.” She would hiss at him while he was just a kitten in obvious agony, “Sometimes in life, you’re gonna get sick and you’ll still have responsibilities to do. Get up!” The harsh reminders made his ears go back and flatten against his head. He was pathetic. Pikestar didn’t want to burden anyone. Maybe he could hide it...
However, life had other plans for him apparently, and here came Fawnpaw. The small medicine cat came strolling into his den without any warning, herbs in her grasp. Crap, she must’ve heard him practically dying in here, though with how terrible these coughs were, he didn’t doubt that anyone in the clearing right now didn’t hear poor Pikestar. Her words, albeit light-hearted and meant to be amusing, made the tall oriental feel terrible. “I-I’m sorry…” He’d croak out, his voice stuttering and ragged, as now held back more tears from forming, “..I’m *hic* so s-sorry…” It was like he was a little kitten again, begging for his mom to love him again after being so ill, even though he couldn’t control it. Pikestar tried to shift away from Fawnpaw as she leaned down to sniff him, but his body was much too weak to move that much. He was disgusted with himself for being so sick, even though it was his own damn fault for not taking care of his body. The young molly’s lick over his ear relaxed him slightly, making Pikestar realize that under his fur, he felt so incredibly hot. Burning. It felt awful and uncomfortable. The cold floor of his den against his stomach helped more than he realized with that pain.
Next came the serious questions, which should’ve been expected. How long had he been coughing for? Pikestar stayed silent for a minute or so, racking his brain for the answers she desired. The oriental tomcat had been so deep into clan chores and duties that he hardly noticed he had been getting sick. “...probably about a quarter moon or so…but never...this bad...” He murmured, the words causing a tickle in his throat that made the RiverClan leader start coughing again. He lifted a paw and put it over his muzzle, not wanting to fling the germs onto the dappled medicine cat, who had just returned after a long journey. This was the last thing she needed to deal with. He was such an awful big brother. Fawnpaw was crouched down, eye-level with him, staring at Pikestar as he tried not to cry more. Damn it, his head hurt. “I have so m-much to do…” He protested, having a hunch on what she’d say.
Last edited by Captain; December 6th, 2022 at 06:05 PM.
Fawnpaw
A soft sigh came from her as she touched her nose to his forehead in a show of comfort. There wasn't any need to apology, but hopefully the warm look Fawnpaw gave him as she pulled away conveyed that well enough. Without hesitation she used a paw to slide forward the damp moss she had brought him, nodding at the droplets that collected in the little divots here and there. While he would be occupied with that, she wasted no time taking one of the yellow flowers and chewing it into a poultice. She still hadn't the faintest idea what the name of the herb was, but it had helped Moose's breathing. So... why not Pikestar's?
Her ears perked at his answer as she snatched one of the leaves brought with her, spreading the poultice into a small pile and scooting it towards her brother. "What you have to do is rest. You can't push yourself this far; I won't allow it." A new, confident edge to her words as she eyed her brother, indicating with one paw for him to lap up the poultice on the leaf after he'd gotten whatever he wished off of the damp moss. She was almost certain it would surprise him, but the glint in her eyes practically dared him to challenge her.
After a moment though, her blue eyes softened and she sighed. Smiling lightly, Fawnpaw added, "You're much too important to the Clan, and to me, to let yourself get any sicker. Okay?"
PIKESTAR { @birdie }
⸻⸻⸻⸻ Soon enough, her nose would touch his forehead, a silent gesture of comfort that made the tall tomcat relax. His pitiful noises lessened from her careful soothing, making Pikestar do his best to show his little sister a pained, but genuine smile. The emotions in her eyes were warm and caring, which wasn’t what he was used to seeing when he was sick, but it was relieving to say the least. He would stay silent as best he could once the RiverClan medicine cat pulled away. Seconds later, a damp clump of moss was slid forward towards him. Pikestar weakly nudged his muzzle forward to swipe at the droplets of water with his tongue. The cold water felt good in his mouth, but stung bitterly going down his hoarse throat. Nonetheless, the dark-furred tomcat drank as much as his body craved, to make Fawnpaw happy. Meanwhile, the she-cat seemed to be preoccupied making him some medicine that he didn't know.
...Would it taste bad?
The dark-furred RiverClan leader was then greeted with the odd-looking poultice spread onto a leaf. He stared at it with hesitation in his movements, but Fawnpaw was quick to reprimand him, which caught the oriental tomcat off-guard. She spoke with such sternness and confidence that they had never heard from their young sister. Great StarClan, what had happened to her out in the wilderness for the past moon? Regardless of the reasoning though, Pikestar couldn’t help but feel proud of how grown-up she appeared to be. A similar pride that the long-furred feline had felt for Bluefang when he had been named a warrior. Her eyes challenged him to talk back, which made the RiverClan leader’s eye widen slightly. Stars, she was certainly serious. He lifted his head and inched forward, lapping up the strange gunk while ignoring the unfamiliar taste. He’d rather deal with a strange flavor than the wrath of his sister, that was for sure. It felt nice to be cared for though. Hopefully, this would only last a few days and then they could all just go back to normal.
However, as the oriental longhair consumed the herbs she prepared for him, Fawnpaw spoke softer and with a smile. She spoke of his importance to the clan, and to her, so he needed to take care of himself. Part of Pikestar threatened to whine again. What would Gingerfrost think? What about the shields? Or RiverClan entirely? There were so many things that the large tomcat wanted to say to try and convince her that he couldn’t just take a break. But her words, her tone, Fawnpaw as a whole, made him utter a gentle sigh. Hesitating for only a second, he would nod understandably to the young medicine cat. “...Okay.” Pikestar answered, “...I suppose I’ll have to talk to Gingerfrost about this…and the shields... maybe I should just call a clan meeting...”
Nightpaw pads in the leaders den nervously, she doesnt remember if she has ever been in here before, she looked around before looking down “p-pikestar, can I talk to you… about swimming.” She asking before her eyes widened. This was a lot more pressure than she thought
Fawnpaw
It was clear enough to see as Fawnpaw watched her brother slowly nudge himself forward to get what little droplets he could that he was in bad shape. Not for the first time did she kick herself for being away, for allowing the fear that had once controlled her drive her from her home. But more than that, she found that she was frustrated that no one in their entire Clan had seemed to notice enough to tell the overworked Clan leader to rest. Not Marigoldleap, not any of his shields... he worked and gave so much for the Clan, and now here he was battling likely the same cough that Moose had suffered from. It almost made her scowl - and would've, were it not for her knowing she needed to be strong for her brother.
At first he appeared apprehensive about the herbs placed before him, but instead of letting doubt trickle in Fawnpaw only watched with a stern gaze. If he refused to eat them, she had no problem swatting him over the ears and reminding him that she was no longer a little kid. The last moon had really... forced her to grow up and out of the habits her Clanmates likely knew her to have. Gone was the shy, naïve little apprentice who had let the fear of failure drive her from her home. In her place was a more refined cat, one who had no problem pushing through with her learning and reaffirming to herself that she did know what she was doing and others should too.
Pikestar hadn't really complained about the herbs (save for the small hesitancy) and soon enough she knew it would ease his throat... but then he went on to say that he would need to speak to Gingerfrost and the shields. Or, maybe, even call a Clan meeting. This time Fawnpaw narrowed her eyes a little and shook her head. "You will be doing no such thing, you absolute minnowbrain." Clipped words (that, for what it was worth, did have some sort of driving affection behind them) accompanied the shake of her head. "I will let the Clan know. You will stay in here and sleep. Understood?" Glancing down at the herb, she added, "I'll come in to check on you, but no one is allowed in your den aside from me until your coughing stops."
Rising to her paws, she glanced once back at the den. She was well aware that Slatewhisker was dead, so that must mean Gingerfrost was the new deputy. Fawnpaw was confident she could find the ginger furred tom pretty easily and inform him of Pikestar's situation. "Have you eaten yet today?" Having food in his stomach might give him at least a little bit of energy as she swung her head back around to look at her brother.
PIKESTAR { @birdie }
⸻⸻⸻⸻ “Oh no.” As soon as the words left his mouth, the sickly dark-furred tomcat saw the dappled molly narrow her eyes, and he knew right away that he was in deep trouble. Pikestar saw it coming and should’ve known better than to test Fawnpaw, but he proved himself to be an idiot time and time again. Immediately, she would shoot down his attempts to avoid resting his weakened body. The long-furred clan leader could tell this was something that could not be talked out and compromised—though perhaps that was a good thing. He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded obediently to his sister’s words, learning his lesson quickly. Pikestar felt light-headed and suddenly, being back in his soft nest sounded like a perfect plan for the rest of the day. Once more, the flicker of anxiety returned. Would his clanmates see him as pathetic for getting sick so damn easily? “No. Stop it.” He sharply reminded himself, focusing his attention back onto the RiverClan molly. She assured him that the rest of the clan would be alerted to his condition by her personally. Fawnpaw didn’t ask, no, she ordered Pikestar to stay here and catch up on his sleep.
“Yes, ma’am.” The large RiverClan leader answered, chuckling slightly though it would only end in another few harsh coughs, “I will… do my best to take care of myself.” There was no surprise that it was long overdue. Pikestar had pushed himself too far both mentally and physically for a long time, since the moment he received his nine lives. Perhaps it was finally time for him to allow his body to relax, so that he could be a clan leader for many, many more moons to come. Fawnpaw would make sure he didn’t lose his first life to whitecough, and the oriental was sure of that. So it was up to him to make sure it wasn’t any harder for her, and the rest of RiverClan, while he recovered. He had a feeling deep down that it would be more difficult than he would like to believe, but stars, he would certainly try his hardest. His clanmates deserved that from him.
On trembling paws, Pikestar heaved himself up so that he could stand, as Fawnpaw did. He glanced at her, silently trying to tell the medicine cat that he wasn’t doing anything foolish. Grabbing the damp mossball with his teeth, the RiverClan leader retreated to the back of his den and was quick to collapse in his nest with a deep sigh leaving him. The clump of moss would fall to the floor, resting on the stone surface near where the large oriental tomcat now laid. Her question made his ears twitch and Pikestar solemnly shook his head. “No. I just woke up, so I haven’t had a chance to get anything.” He said, resting his chin on the rim of his nest. There was truth in his words, but to be honest, the tall dark-furred feline probably would’ve forgotten to get breakfast regardless of the situation. “...Make sure the queens, kits and elders have enough to eat before bringing something to me, okay? I have nine lives to lose, they only have one. I care more about their bellies being full than my own.” A genuine sentiment that he hoped Fawnpaw would not scorn him for. Leaf-bare made prey scarce, so they had to be smart about it.
Re: RiverClan Leader's Den
Re: RiverClan Leader's Den
