Nothing Grows When it is Dark (c)

Daisypaw dragged herself into the daylight, scraping out from under the shelter of a patch of thick undergrowth where many of WindClan’s sick had been ushered into. It was warm there, and protected. It was really all she could do for her clanmates, keep them warm and keep them dry. The wind was biting as it blew across the water, and the bi-colored molly shivered. Sitting out in the cold for a moment would bring her body temperature down, and maybe she could get her stubborn fever to break. The apprentice blinked against the light, nose steaming in the cold. Her head throbbed, and despair rattled around in her chest as much as her cough did. There were very few familiar herbs here, even Smallstar had little luck in identifying anything useful, and their own store was pitiful. Daisypaw slumped into a seated position, squinting against the blurriness that washed over her vision.

She would not be cowed by the heavy veil of sickness that had descended upon them. Vixenpaw was enough of a tax. She closed her eyes briefly, against the cold press of grief and her own exhaustion, before swallowing down the feeling. She was determined to cling to the feeble lives of her clanmates as tightly as she could, it would be hard fought, taking any more of them from her. A familiar cream pelt caught her attention, and a warm wave of relief crested over her. At least Berrypaw was still standing, she really couldn’t ask for much more at the moment.  “Berrypaw” She called in a rasping wheeze, inviting her sister over with a welcoming flick of her white-tipped tail.

Daisypaw hauled herself to her paws, alarmed as she saw her sister crumple. Feeling like her limbs were made from stone, she bit back her fatigue and the mounting dizziness and staggered towards Berrypaw.  “Look at us, we’re hopeless huh?” She purred, relieved when Berrypaw managed to get up without help. She pressed her nose to her sister’s forehead, frustration crawling over her ribs.  “I’m sorry I can’t do more to fix this.” She muttered into Berrypaw’s fur, before giving her ear a comforting lick. She stepped back suddenly, turning fully away from her sister as another coughing fit wracked her sturdy frame. After it passed, she stood heaving for a moment, head low. The cold air stung as she pulled it desperately back into her lungs. Exhausted, Daisypaw gently nudged Berrypaw’s shoulder.  “C’mon, you don’t need to be wandering around out here in the cold any longer.”

She led the way back into the shelter of the undergrowth, beckoning her sister over to where she had made a nest for herself.  “It’ll be warmer here.” She let the cream she-cat get settled before curling up next to her, resting her chin on Berrypaw’s back. It felt natural to stay curled up like this, a familiar comfort amidst the fear that turned her blood to ice. She couldn’t lose her sister too, not to this stupidly cowardly sickness that hung over them, greedy and bleak as death.  “How’s warrior training going? I hope you’re resting enough.” She asked softly, some part of her settled at having her kin close.