drove me to madness (c)

Perchstar's illness was wreaking complete havoc on her, body and soul. Physically she was in an exhausted agony that never relinquished. She slept in half-delirious nightmares most of the day, reliving old horrors and new terrors never before imagined, and every time she did awaken was somehow worse. Her very bones ached. Every breath was a wheezing cough--she had to fight against herself to even inhale. She starved with no appetite. She burned with heat despite the frigid air. Every moment, misery. Some days she felt almost good enough to stand and talk, perhaps to conduct a ceremony or have a conversation with Poppyshine, but anything further than that was out of the question.

Today was not one of her better days. Perchstar knew that the moment she opened her eyes and saw a kit standing at the entrance of her makeshift excuse for a den. Her kits were all grown... she was sure of this. Wasn't she? There weren't even any kits in the Clan, last she remembered. So why was a small gray-and-white kit there? It couldn't be Sleepykit, coming to nap with her again. Owlshriek wouldn't let her; not with the leader so sick. It would be better if she rested with Mapleleaf instead. "Hello," she managed to rasp out. It was best not to use a name in case her bleary eyes deceived her. "Did you... need something?" She knew she probably looked frightful: matted fur, sickness hanging about her like a musty cloud of smoke. It was a wonder the kit didn't turn and run. Then again, ghosts probably wouldn't be worried about dying, would they?

Littlekit knew he wasn't supposed to be here. His pelt prickled nervously at the though of disappointing Poppyshine or Cindersky. But he hadn't been able to keep himself away any longer. Perchstar was just so sick. He knew what it was like to be all alone in a den. And with the sickness looming over every moment? His tiny heart clenched up at the thought. That was what had lead him to hesitate nervously at the edge of her hobbled-together den. As the leader emerged, he froze up like a fish on ice. Littlekit's eyes widened as he took in the site of the grey and white she-cat. It was too late to turn back now.

Thankfully, it was still early in the day. Most cats were still sleeping, so any reprimand he was bound to get would be on hold for a short while. Besides that fact, it was also surreal to be standing in front of that cat he had secretly willed to be his mother in early kithood. Given their somewhat similar appearance and the fanciful dreams of kithood, there were times he closed his eyes and pretended. It was hard to shake that away in a mere instance.

Words stuck in the kits throat like touch to swallow scales. Suddenly, as if just remembering, his gaze shot down to something underneath his forepaw. Forgetting the nervousness, he leaned down to pick up the special treasure he had hunted down for Perchstar. Birds were rare to come by in the Riverclan fresh kill pile. In fact, he had only ever found one before. From that, he'd plucked a brown and black feather. The colors bled into each other flawlessly. He had even groomed it for this presentation.

"Perfarr! Ifs fur thu!" Littlekit proclaimed, once more forgetting he was incapable of properly speaking with his mouth full.

There was no way that Perchstar was completely hallucinating this. No matter how many times she blinked, eyelids heavy and crusty, she still saw a small form before her. He piped up and offered her... a feather? Just like the sparkly stone and the goose feathers and the dried leaf that she knew were around here somewhere, in the leader's den. The keepsakes. Beetlepaw had come to give her another one. It was nice of them, even though she hadn't been a very good mentor thus far. "It's very nice," Perchfall said, not sure why her normally-neutral voice sounded so much like a wheeze. She couldn't possibly be that sick. Greencough in the middle of new-leaf couldn't possibly be that bad. "Thank you... Beetlepaw. Did you get that... with Bearspirit? I know he said... he was going to patrol... with you." The kit of Bearspirit and Dewlight was destined for greatness. Hopefully Dewlight wouldn't be too upset that her kit was being mentored by her usurper.

She blinked again. A little gray-and-white kit standing close to her. But it was so cold outside. "Wait, Tinykit... aren't you cold?" Why had that name come from her mouth? There was a little tom-kit who looked like her, vision blurry and all. And she knew that she named her son Tinykit. Though waves of heat racked her form, the logic was sound. Connected easily. "I don't want to... get you sick, or I'd... offer you my warmth. Some mother I am..." She let out a quiet huff of breath, masking her frustration with a mild amusement. After all her exhaustion, she supposed it was inevitable that she'd fail her kits somehow. Where were the other three? Probably off playing somewhere. Poppyshine had promised to watch over them, so surely they would be all right. But wait. Hadn't she just had Willowwisp's warrior ceremony? Or, no... that was... When was...? Confused again, Perchstar tried to stand up, but then laid back down halfway through the movement. The air was cold but her pelt was so warm. It was so strange. When was she?

Pride bubbled up in his chest as he placed the treasure down at the paws of his leader. He beamed up at her with his vibrant green eye shining, while the other glowed with a pale gray light. As Perchstar regarded him curiously, he tipped his head. Uncertainty began to weigh his paws like stone. The leader hovered above him like an otherworldly presence. Most of his life, the she-cat had been afflicted with some of the worst the sickness had to offer. Maybe it had been foolish of him to interrupt her rest. Littlekit's ears dropped slightly at the thought. But they shot up almost immediately as she spoke.

Beetlepaw?

"I, um," His mouth felt dry all of a sudden, "I'm Littlekit." The words were so soft and uncertain it was possible she might not have heard them at all. He'd been a kit for so long, constantly underpaw around that camp, it had become natural for him to assume that every cat knew who he was. However, this was the sobering reality of the illness that had impacted their clan for moons now. Cats lost their lives, ability to be around camp. Perchstar had always seemed so far away, like a beacon of hope in a sense. Maybe it was simply the resemblance in their coats. Or perhaps an admiration born from seeing her address the clan long ago. Either way, staring up at her now and hearing her mutter another name, seemingly far away, pained him in ways he was too young to understand.

And then she was speaking again. Littlekit tried to digest the words as he swallowed. This time the name from her parted maw, between rasped words, was at least closer to his name. He drew back slightly and pressed his underbelly to the cool earth. It seemed to calm his breathing slightly. There is was again. A mention of wanting to be closer, speaking of the warmth, and yet so far way. Wait? Mother? So much confusion and conflict was apparent in his gaze. For a while, the kit was stunned into silence, unsure of how to respond to the fevered delusions... especially on account that he did not understand that. Taking a shaky breath, he came to one conclusion. Perchstar was indeed very, very sick.

Littlekit took a few deep breath trying to further still his beating heart and perplexed soul. He slowly stood back up onto his pads as he tried to find Perchstar's wandering gaze, "It's okay, Perchstar. You just need to rest. Okay?" The kit offered her the most genuine smile that he could muster. After everything she had done for the clan, she deserved her rest while in wait for healing, and that was something he never should have intruded on. He stretched out a paw to gently bat the feather in her direction, "This will help you sleep, I promise. It is filled with all the good thoughts." He remembered falling asleep underneath the stars near Cindersky, remembering her advice on how to find sleep. Silently, he asked Starclan to give all his pleasant fantasies to Perchstar, in the hopes that rest would soon come easy.