doctor, doctor [c]

Toadlegs had a problem.

Moons ago, when he and Darkpaw had snuck out and subsequently gotten attacked by a weasel, the two of them had sworn to never say a word about their misadventure. And so far things had been going well, especially by Toadleg's stndards; not a peep had been spoken, and Toadlegs was able to easily manuever into warriorhood without any weasel-shaped hitches.

Of course, like all things in Toadleg's life, it came back to bite him in the tail.

While that weasel had really done a nasty number on his foot, Toadlegs had never gone to the medicine den about it-- it wasn't so severe that he couldn't hide it, and the last thing he wanted was slipping up on his story to Sandyshell of all cats. Toadlegs knew himself, he'd never be able to keep his story straight. But now he couldn't keep his gait straight either, since his foot began to ache terribly. It hurt to walk, and it wasn't getting any better, (in fact, it just seemed to be getting worse) so Toadlegs finally gave in and shlepped over to the medicine den.

Padding nervously over to the entrance, Toadlegs mewed out a short "Hello?" He couldn't see inside very well, and there didn't seem to be much activity-- was Sandyshell out somewhere else? This was Toadlegs' first proper medicine den visit, and he had not a clue what to do. "Sandyshell?"

Now that Sandyshell was clearly in front of him, asking him what was wrong, Toadlegs finally realized that he had never planned on what he would say. Forethought had never been his strongest quality. ”Um..” He started, intelligent as ever. ”Well, you see, I—“ Come on, Toadpaw, think! ”I was hunting near the riverbank a few nights ago and a weasel had come at me! It got my foot, but I managed to squash it like it was nothin’, so it wasn’t a big deal, I didn’t think,” Sandyshell didn’t need to know that it was actually Darkpaw who managed to tear that weasel off of him, since Toadlegs didn’t do much except scream and jump about. ”But recently my foot’s been kind of achy, and it’s hard to walk on it— Am I gonna die?!”

Toadlegs had completely convinced himself that he had contracted some terrible weasel-bound infection days and days ago, but he had been too afraid to go to Sandyshell about it then— it was already too late for him anyway. the weasel encounter had been as many moons ago as he thought it had, he was probably already so far along in his terrible sickness that there would be nothing Sandyshell could do. Maybe some pain relief, if anything, so he can die a peaceful death…