hope lurks in the shadows [open to severely sick SC cats]

OOC: Once you've posted in this with your severe level cat, they will be officially cured!

The meeting with RiverClan had gone exceptionally well, earning ShadowClan their seventh and final herb: Ragweed. It was unknown whether or not this was what could finally cure this nagging sickness, but it was now or never.

Tired eyes glossed over the array of herbs one last time: Burdock Root, Ragweed, Wild Garlic, Lavender, Lamb's Ear, Coneflower, and Tormentil. All seven of the herbs the medicine cats of each clan had deduced worked separately. But would they work completely as a whole? There was only one way to find out. Normally, she would be opposed to using herbs on herself first, but in order for her clan to thrive, she also needed to be well.

Taking each herb and chewing them slowly and carefully, Heatherberry settled down in her nest in the medicine den Burdockroot had only just reinforced with vines. Burdockroot... Her nose tickled as sadness bubbled up in her chest. There would time for that later. She needed to focus getting better. Focus on her clanmates. Focus. Tucking her nose between her paws, she closed her eyes to ready for a nap.

***

Heatherberry awoke to the warm sun rising, breathing fresh air through her nose for the first time since passing over the mountains. Upon standing, she found her aching muscles only slightly sore from not moving throughout her rest. Any lingering sickness she could find on closer examination, was the slight gurgle in her chest that would clear away as time went on. ShadowClan had their cure! She had to force her black paws to stay on the ground as she fought the urge to dance in celebration.

The isolated cars with the most severe of symptoms would need to be treated first before she couldbtruly celebrate, including those who had recently been experimented on.

With haste, Heatherberry bounded back and forth between patients, laying out all seven herbs in front of her most severe of patients: Leopardstar, Tawnyshadow, Rookfire, Sunflare, Frostpaw, and Pineblossom. "Chew carefully, everyone. It may be bitter, but it is well worth it. I promise you." Could Burdockroot see her right now? Would she have been okay with Heatherberry healing herself first before her clanmates...? Guilt nagged her as she watched on with bated breath for any sign that this hadn't just been a fluke.

ShadowClan's Herbs:
Golden rod x 19
Ragweed x 0 (-7)
Lavender x 9 (-6)
Wild Garlic x 8 (-6)
Tormentil x 12 (-6)
Cobnuts x 22
Coneflower x 13 (-6)
Burdock Root x 9 (-6)
Lambs Ear x 8 (-6)
Horsetail x 23

Rookfire ate the herbs.

(im sorry i can't make a better post i have like zero motivation to write atm but i also don't want to just procrastinate and never post)

ooc: for recordkeeping purposes, any future topics made to wrap up the “where stars tread” plot will be backdated to before this topic :D

Distantly, hazily, Frostpaw knew that she was awake. There were no stars. Everything was mist, and fire, burning away from the inside, fire in her veins and in her blood, too hot, heat building up in her mouth and yet she didn’t have the strength to open her maw. The world swum. She couldn’t lift her head. She could barely move, and that ought to have frightened her, but she didn’t have the strength to be frightened. She lay dull and helpless, each gasping breath pressing against her ribs, lacking even the strength to cough the blood that pooled in her lungs.

Heatherberry was calling her. Heatherberry was calling her. Heatherberry needed her to do something, and if Heatherberry needed her to do something, Frostpaw would oblige. Cracking her eyes open felt like such an effort, but she managed to focus on something blurry. Herbs, she thought distantly. Herbs. She needed to eat those. Heatherberry wanted her to eat those. She needed to listen. She would listen.

Summoning up every ounce of strength she possessed, Frostpaw brought her head forwards and slowly chewed up the herbs. The bitter taste of the herbs could barely be tasted through the taste of sickness and blood in her mouth. She rather thought her eyes met Heatherberry’s for a moment through the haze, but then Frostpaw put her head down on the moss and slipped once more into a doze. Her breaths, however, though still raspy, became slightly less laboured. For the first time in moons, the small apprentice slipped into actual sleep instead of her star-filled fever dreams.

For so long now, Sunflare had thrashed in his nest, the presence of his mate his only comfort. When the herbs were set before him, he ate without question. His Clan needed him! He couldn’t let himself die here. His mind still seemed to sleep under the foggy haze but his instincts drew him forward. He half-recognized the voice that spoke with the tone of a medicine cat… was it perhaps a cousin of his? Or was his entire reality something new and twisted now? His veins felt as if icy shards slid through each one, but he steeled himself against the pain. A coughing fit threatened to make him vomit, but he resisted, stifling the hacking enough to not lose the cure. He had to stay alive.

Sunflare will soon drop off to sleep and wake up cured.