i'm all out of lives [semi-open on request]

ooc: Mistlepaw suffered a head injury against a predator that caused cranial swelling. She fell into a cat coma until now. How did these primitive cats feed a cat in a coma and keep her lungs manually working with no issues? Don't ask or else -c0cks gun-

It was hot, like some cat had their stupid nest pressed against hers. A smothering blanket that choked out the air from her chest, a boiling weight. Awful. She wanted to shake them off, but nothing was responding. Her paws felt like riverstones that stood impassive in the flow of a river. Weighted, coarse and yet untouchable. Momma. She wanted to call out into the darkness. Momma, please help, its so hot. She knew logically that Mottlerose was probably in the Warrior's den, unable to hear her pitiful mewls like a kit, but it was so hot. Everything was burning.

Wake up.

A voice cut through the her fevered imagination.

Wake up now. You've slept enough, sleepyhead.

It was familiar, Morningpaw? No... Maybe? It sounded old, like a warrior, Morningpaw wasn't old.

"I dun wanna 'ake up." She mumbled aloud, it was hot and she just wanted to sleep. "It's hot."

Something brushed her muzzle, the coolness of a fellow cat's nose. With it, the heat seemed to leech out of her, like rainwater trickling through the leaf litter to rejoin the river. She purred warmly in thanks, shaking off the rest of the heat as she slowly opened her weary eyes. But this wasn't her nest in the apprentice den, the pungent aroma of herbs, the musty scent of mouse bile, this was all wrong. Mistlepaw looked around for the warrior that woke her to ask what was going on, only to see nothing. All alone, laying in a compressed moss that looked like some cat had slept on it for moons without fluffing it up regularly. What was going on?

"Hello? Anyone?"

Every single painstaking day, Mottlerose came in and out of the medicine cat den. Every day, she brought fresh moss for her daughter, tactfully doing her best to change it out, doing her best not to harsh disturb the perpetually slumbering cat's form. Every day, she somehow got her to eat, or drink, though it seemed no life rested behind the calico's eyes. Still, she never stopped. It was her baby, after all. Her darling little girl, the one she could never let go of. Her care of Mistlepaw had only gone further when Morningsun had been sacrificed to the stars, the she-cat refusing to even leave her side for several days. All she wanted to know was whether or not the stars had taken her daughter, to let her spirit be free instead of trapped in a body that never seemed to obey.

So much time had passed since then. Her belly was swollen with kits, new life, new siblings. Mistlepaw had been the second cat that she had told as she groomed the younger molly's pelt, just as she did every day. She never stopped caring for her daughter. Not to mention, Mistlepaw's father had become Minnowstar, and she had been named deputy. Just a small patch of grey fur began just around her nose, the tiniest sign that time had indeed passed.

It was that time of day for her to come visit her daughter though. The sun was almost to its highest point of the day, but not quite. She had time before she had to organize the sunhigh patrols. As she entered into the medicine den, her stomach curling from the nauseating scent of all the herbs... she almost couldn't believe her ears. Or her eyes. Instantly, fast paws carried her to her daughter, the mother's nose pressing deep into Mistlepaw's fur. "Mistle? My sweetheart, are you awake?" She whispered hurriedly, feverently checking over the younger calico for signs of it actually being real. Tears even dotted at her eyes. Stars, was her daughter truly back?