Lightning n' Thrift healing thing

[Spookez.]

Thriftfall
29 moon old Windclan Warrior

Pain was all Thriftfall woke up to. His head was pounding and all the joints in his body decided to cause him extra pain and suffering. Not to mention, he was starving. He could hazily remember hunting before a Shadowclanner just randomly attacked him. Wait... No that's not how it went.. He could barely remember what happened. All he could remember of the incident was him being thrown to the ground.

Thriftfall wanted to just get up and get some food, but his legs refused to work. Also, he didn't know where he was. Lightningstorm could have moved him somewhere. He could be buried alive, but he wouldn't know.

Thriftfall aimlessly wiggled around, in an attempt to get his sore legs back in shape. (Also, to prove to himself he wasn't buried under a rock.) A couple of minutes later, he managed to at least stand up. Walking will be a problem though. He slithered one leg forward... Then another...

Then, he just stopped. Shivering and shaking. He didn't realize how hard walking was. His legs didn't want to move anymore as he just stayed there. Slowly coming back to the ground. Well, he did confirm he was in some kind of den. Was this the Warrior's den? Were people staring and laughing at him?

Thriftfall felt a climbing pain and anxiety fill his body. Are there cats staring and laughing at me? He could imagine it. A group of cats, standing there. Laughing instead of helping him. This had happened before, just with cats he actually knew.

He was starving, not to mention he didn't know where he was. He could feel something rising in his throat. "H-hello? Is anyone there?" His voice was weak and raspy and could be barely heard from anyone too far away.

@Alchemist Kitsune |

[Alchemist Kitsune]

| Lightningstorm |
Flock Together [Tier 3] - Inactive | Mind Reader - Active

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Lightningstorm was less than pleased as she carried a rabbit in her maw, the taste not her favorite, nor the fact that she had been forced to delve into the prey pile despite her refusal to do so of late. It wasn't for her, however. The medicine cat would rather starve than take prey from a clan she no longer belonged to. Not as far as she was concerned. However, that sentiment did not extend to her patients. Much as she hated the warriors of WindClan, once they became her charges that loathing took a step to the side. There was no room for pettiness when lives were at stake. She could simply go back to hating them once she was certain they were alright. Once they were no longer under her care.

Making her way down the medicine den's many tunnels, the lithe calico's ears perked up, hearing a tom's voice whisper fleetingly across the enclosed space. Confusion laced it, making it clear who had just woken up. Or rather, it would have made it clear if there were more felines in here. As it was, the healer had made a point of keeping her visitors within the confines of her prison for as little time as possible. She didn't want to risk another rat poisoning her supplies. Not while leaf-bare was upon them. Not while she still breathed.

Thriftfall had been one of the rare exceptions she had allowed. The gray tom was obviously in distress. Even half conscious as he had been when he'd been brought to her it had been clear to Lightningstorm that he could not be left to the rats in the warriors' den. He would need more care than she trusted the vermin that resided there could give. The now blind warrior's fate had nothing to do with them, and there was most certainly no glory to be found in helping care for a wounded clanmate. Her position within the clan was testament enough to this. It stood to reason then that he would be ignored. His condition potentially worsen. Death befalling him, even, before she was ever told. Of course, they would all let her know how it had been her fault that it had all ended thus, and for once, she would be willing to agree with them. It would take an idiot to trust the lot of them.

Reaching the private den she had taken the tall, spotted warrior to, the wiry framed she-cat dropped her rabbit, assessing the tom before her as she mewed a simple, "I see you've awoken. Brought you a rabbit, in case you're hungry."

It was factual, lacking empathy or curiosity. In reality, the spotted lass wanted nothing more than to ask him how he was feeling. Know if he was in pain. Understand what herbs she would need to help him. But she knew better than to pry at this point in her life. Though a mere sixteen moons in age, Lightningstorm had seen enough patients to know that once the emergency was done, it was best to give them some breathing room. Let them come to her, at least at first. It would do Thriftfall no good if she were to add to his stress now.

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[ -1 Rabbit ]

@Spookez. [Thriftfall]