The Plot Sickens [Private]

[Fawn]

"Clearly you haven't been working on them," Fawnpaw commented quietly. "You can build den walls like... I don't know, like you're the the master of it." It was a lame title to have, Master of Building Den Walls, but Lionstorm was quite skilled at weaving the reeds together after they'd caved in (or after he'd intentionally broken it again.) Despite his sad attempts at a joke, this conversation wasn't making him hopeful for his new temporary home with the rest of the ill felines.

A gloomy silence fell over them with only the occasional cough filling the brisk night air. Fawnpaw was quaking against Lionstorm's back, but he held tight, clinging to the warmth and the safety promised by the warrior. The snow continued to pelt the surrounding territory but whenever flakes would land on him or Lionstorm, he would nudge them off and bathe the spot to ensure the fur didn't dry incorrectly. After a while, he even stopped doing that since the exhaustion was draining him entirely, leaving the small apprentice barely conscious as he fought off the desire to rest.

Between struggling to stay awake and being unaware of where they were when landmarks were covered in snow or unrecognizable to him, Fawnpaw was surprised to see a different type of terrain. It wasn't the marshes of RiverClan, it was more open with a larger body of water than he'd ever imagined. The sight of being so far from RiverClan and his family had Fawnpaw tearing up again, a sad loneliness engulfing him. "I wish I could go back home," he mumbled through a sob muffled by Lionstorm's golden fur. "I don't want to be stuck at the Seastones, I..." He stopped there, choking down the emotion because he knew he couldn't break apart, had to be rational about this. "I guess... it's for the best, huh?" But he didn't sound convinced, unsure if that was intended to persuade Lionstorm or himself.

@BILL.

[BEAR.]

Lionstorm wished he felt like the master of den building, but he quite honestly hated the work. He hated weaving, he hated mending the broken walls and the only upside of fixing the apprentice den had been Fawnpaw's company and praise. He enjoyed that immensely.

Almost as much as he enjoyed Fawnpaw grooming his back, up until the apprentice was too weak to continue, merely being a flop against him. It was adorable in a sad way, how the spirited apprentice was left exhausted and vulnerable against him.

"You'll be home soon," he reassured him. "You just need to recover from your illness, and you're young and strong." Not very strong, but he probably wouldn't die. "It won't take long, alright? And I'll visit you to keep you company, if you want."

@Dipper

[Fawn]

"Really?" Fawnpaw meowed, weak but alert enough to find some trace of hope crossed with amusement in the claim that he was 'young and strong.' Well, he was young, but he didn't know if he believed the strong part. All evidence pointed against that being the logical conclusion considering he hadn't been able to build the den or keep up with Leopardshine. Now, he was just tired, felt like his muscles were impossibly noodly.

Impending sleep hanging over him with a drained mind and body, Fawnpaw went limp against him and murmured dazedly, "I guess you'd know all about that." It was a lame joke, not that he could control the inflection as one in his state aside from attempting a coarse purr.

But it was joyless. His entire demeanor was. He didn't know how he could be at all happy about being sentenced to the Seastones with a mixed-Clan group of cats, strangers, and they were vulnerable, alone in the cold... Fawnpaw's frame shuddered at the idea, more sobbing threatening to escape but he was simply too exhausted to make a sound.

[Continue at the Quarantine Zone? @BILL. ]