Crippled on the Inside [CLOSED]

Icestorm sat outside the medicine cat den, breathing heavily. Stupid exercises! He thought bitterly to himself, flopping onto the ground. Ever since the day he was emitted to the elder's den, Emberleaf made sure that he wasn't just sitting on his rump. More like stupid legs. Being crippled like this wasn't just hard for the tom physically, but mentally as well. He was no longer able to run on the open moor, be with Ashwing, and now, apprentices looked at him like he had a disease. Well, then again, it might as well be one. Every sound made him jump and he was practically worried about everything now. Sorrow filled his heart and unfortunately, he might never be the same tom that lived in his soul before the accident.

Of course it was always nice to have Lightfoot with him, but he was the one who got Icestorm into this mess. He's suffering just as much as I am though. Letting out a sigh, he realized that he couldn't turn his back on a friend, although he was still angry. Emberleaf was a nice cat and Icestorm knew he was just doing his job, but he hated being treated like a sick kit. I guess going to the elder's den was bound to come sooner than later. Heaving himself up again, he did more exercises, though he soon fell to the ground once more, wheezing; hardly able to breathe. Is this normal?

"Alright, alright, try not to die too soon," Emberleaf purred amusingly as he skillfully maneuvered around piles of herbs to the wheezing tom. "If you keep this up, you'll be as dead as the rabbit I ate for breakfast, ya hear? That's enough exercising for today, okay? Okay." The ginger medicine cat plopped a leaf down in front of the crippled gray and white elder. The leaf held a nasty-looking mixture of Chamomile, Ragweed, and Thyme. It was Emberleaf's special pulp mixture that provided strength both physically and mentally. "Eat this up, would ya? Try not to barf too much, mkay? I gots some honey if you needs some help gulpin' down that there mixture. I also got me some Heather Nectar if ya want that rather than honey, mkay? Now, tell me what hurts so I can fix it, okay? Okay." Emberleaf was an odd cat, and let's just leave it at that.

Sitting up, he looked down at the herbs. "Great, more herbs." He mumbled under his breath. Swallowing the plants, he winced at the taste and almost coughed them back up. "Gross!" He hissed, his ears laying flat on his head. The headaches he used to get always went away with the medicine cat's medicine, but Icestorm would always hate eating them."Hey Emberleaf," he started in a softer tone. "The wheezing and coughing, was that normal?" The tom didn't want to seem like he was challenging the medicine cat, but he was genuinely worried.

"Well," Emberleaf started as he watched Icestorm swallow the herbs. "I'd say for your age, your lungs are getting stiffer. It happens to everyone as they get older....all it is is that it is less easy for your lungs expand and contract, thus making you wheeze. Another reason could be that something happened when you got hit by the monster that hurt your legs. If I'd have to guess, I'd say that your diaphragm got raptured, but that is doubtful....unless...hmm....does your chest hurt, perhaps? What about your abdomen? This may seem like a bit of an awkward question, but have you thrown up lately or had constipation?" These were all signs of a crushed diaphragm.

Icestorm listened to the medicine cat, almost more worried than before. My age? Am I really that old? The tom wondered sadly. Listening more, he hated hearing about the accident. A ruptured abdomen? Emberleaf's words caught his attention. That couldn't be good. "No, I don't think it's something as serious as that." He meowed with a nod. "Maybe a broken rib? There has been something stabbing my side, almost like a sharp thorn." He added, tilting his head to the side and looking down at his side.

Emberleaf nodded. "You're right, Icestorm. That idea was a bit over the top. Maybe you should be the Medicine Cat," the tom purred with a humorous smile. "Anyway, let me take a look. Do you mind rolling onto your back so I can check for swelling on your chest and sides?" It was more likely that Icestorm had a broken rib or two, maybe even a punctured lung. Though the injury was painful, the treatment would be easy; rest. For a few moons, Icestorm would have to lay in his nest or the Medicine Cat's den with bindweed and cobwebs wrapped around his chest and stomach. Emberleaf knew a herb mixture which helped heal broken bones and reduce swelling, so this would be a piece of cake. If Icestorm's lung was ruptured, it'd just have to heal on it's own longer and hopefully not cause any long-term damage.

Icestorm was glad that Emberleaf was trying to lift the mood, but it wasn't very affective. The crippled tom attempted to smile, although it might not have shown. Giving a nod, he awkwardly turned over onto his back. Looking up at the clouds, it was almost magical watching them gracefully move around. "Emberleaf," he started softly. "Thank you." The medicine cat had worked so hard to heal him and Lightfoot, and he didn't know how to show his gratitude.

"What are you thanking me for, Icestorm? Aren't I doing my job? Playing my role to contributing to the clan?" Emberleaf asked gently in reply. He circled around the elder, inspecting his chest and sides. There was definitely some swelling; Icestorm had a broken rib for sure. "You and Lightfoot are like brothers to me. I can't imagine a world without either of you two. Promise you'll stick around for a while? I mean, you guys are elders now and, well, all elders die at some point and..." Emberleaf trailed off as he searched his den for some bindweed.

Icestorm couldn't help but chuckle at Emberleaf's comment, though it ended in a fit of coughing. "It's going to take more than an incident on the Thunderpath to get rid of me." He meowed with a smile, happy that the mood was lifted a bit. "And if I'm old, then you follow not far behind." The tom pointed out, craning his neck to see Emberleaf.

The Medicine Cat chuckled and found some bindweed, then returned to Icestorm with a few of the the vine-like stems dangling from his mouth like rope. "So, Icestorm," he started gently while he set down the plant. "You do have a broken rib, maybe two. You most likely have a punctured lung, also, from your broken ribs. All you can do is rest for a couple of moons, and I can give you herbs to fight the pain. I need to wrap your chest and stomach with bindweed and cobwebs to help speed up the healing," Emberleaf said with a gloomy tone as he sadly stared at Icestorm. Maybe Emberleaf was getting old, and soon he'd be just like Gorsefeather; a grumpy, retired Medicine Cat in the elder's den. He'd have to finish mentoring both of his apprentices first, of course.

Icestorm didn't like Emberleaf's tone and the happy spirit that he once had faded away. "At least it will heal, right?" There was barely a hint of hope in his voice. Besides, it didn't matter if it healed, he would still be stuck in the elders den, forever hobbling around on his two uninjured legs.

Emberleaf let out a heavy sigh. "I'm sure it will, Icestorm, as long as you do as you're told. Your body must heal itself, and all it needs is time and hope. Starclan still has plans for your life, even though you are old, so don't give up quite yet." The ginger, long-furred tom picked up the bindweed and started to wrap it around Icestorm's chest and stomach. "Now, I'm not making this too tight, but I don't want it to be too loose, either."

Giving a nod, he stayed still as Emberleaf put the weird herb around his ribs. "Thank you again Emberleaf. I seriously don't know what me and Lightfoot would've done without you." Icestorm meowed, followed with a low purr.

Lightfoot listened quietly from his nest inside the den. He didn't leave the den very often, as walking anywhere was still a challenge without his sight and he didn't have anywhere interesting to go. He had been napping, but his friends' conversation roused him from his sleep and caught his attention. The first phrase he was conscious enough to hear was the medicine cat meowing "What are you thanking me for, Icestorm?" and the white elder knew that it was Icestorm stretching himself and Emberleaf tending to his injuries. Lightfoot crawled halfway out of the elders' den, enough to feel the sun on his face and shoulders and to catch the scents of the camp. He kept his eyes closed. They would be of no use open besides scaring the kits and young apprentices. "Greetings, Emberleaf. Have you brought anything for my eyes?" His eyes were always in constant pain. The skin around them felt puffy and inflamed, and an uncomfortable sense of warmth drained what energy he had left in him. Emotionally he was a wreck, but he did his best to conceal it and stayed as kind and polite as ever. He just hoped that Icestorm could bring himself to forgive him.

Once Emberleaf heard the familiar voice of Lightfoot, the tom turned around with a smile. "Ahh, yes. I've got some Celandine juice here for you," the Medicine Cat purred as he picked up a leaf which he had squeezed the juice of a Celandine flower onto. "I just need to drip it into each eye." Careful not to spill, Emberleaf brought the leaf over to the white Elder and positioned himself above Lightfoot, so that he could let the juice trickle into his eyes. "But, I need you to open them first." Emberleaf knew why Lightfoot closed his eyes all the time, but hopefully he would open them for him.