chicken soup for the soul [open for rc]

ooc; posting here with your severely sick cats will mean they are cured! given we have a limited amount of cure, priority is going to those with severe sickness levels. after they are cured, i will open this up to those with the moderate condition on a first come, first serve basis!

Although daylight shone brightly overhead, frigid gusts swept over the lake territory, keeping the morning's frost firmly on place. Snow had melted during a brief warm spell. However, with the temperature dropping once more, the world had become coated in a thin layer of ice. It was enough to chill even the cats with the thickest coats. Littlepaw's shivered slightly as he sunk into the comfort of his hare pelt, finding it to be a constant companion to him during the long days. He knew warrior apprentices ran the territory, hunting and fighting all day but he never imagined that being a healer's apprentice would come with a similar exhaustion. At the edge of his weary mind, Littlepaw found himself consciously pushing away the words of Shadowclan's medicine cat. There was no time to think of that, no time to dwell on pelts that faded no matter how much he clung to them. A knot threatened to rise in his throat. The little grey and white tom focused his gaze on the pile of herbs before him and mumbled to himself, "Burdock root, ragweed, wild garlic, lavender, lamb's ear, coneflower, tormentil."

Names of herbs swam in his head all hours of the day now, and sometimes in his sleep. Sandyshell was busy teaching him everything she could in-between stretches of resting away her own illness. Filled leaf bundles sat before him. The carefully sorted herbs were laid out and in place. He repeated the list to himself several more times as he looked over each. It was ready. This was supposed to be the cure that would take away the deadly illness. So many of his clanmates had only ever been fever-ridden pelts for as long as he could remember. Several cats had passed. And now, here, laying at his paws was the combination that could take all of that away. Littlepaw's breath hitched. He tried to keep himself from breathing to heavily out of fear it would stir up the herbs and displace even a scrap of the precious plants. It was still so surreal to him that he was now a medicine cat, learning each day how to take supplies and turn them into medicine. The transition had been swift. Only days before he had still been laid out in the nursery. All he knew was concentrated around this specific task, the rest would come later. Intricate details of what each one of these herbs could do had yet to be unlocked. All that mattered now was the combined bundles at his paws, a list that echoed in his head like endless morning birdsong.

When he was finally satisfied that it was all there, he gingerly took the biggest bundle of herbs and trotted towards the makeshift leader's den. At the entrance, his paws hesitated. The last time he had set paw here still played in his head. Perchstar would be better soon, though. It was just her sickness and him intruding where he did not belong. Littlepaw had a purpose her now. After announcing his presence softly, the medicine cat apprentice slowly padded in. He placed the herb's near the leader's mouth and meowed lowly, "It's all here, Perchstar. Everything you need." It was a lot of herbs. He found himself hoping they had been mixed together properly, worrying that his novice work might not properly clear things up. Even having honey, which he heard was sweet, would have made everything go down easier. Riverclan cats were strong, though, and could manage to choke them down for the sake of recover. He dipped his head respectfully before retreating, in search of the clan's sickest cats. One by one, he administered the cure, all the while silently praying to Starclan. Hope. That was what Sageleaf had said. He was hope.

Littlepaw used the Cure (tm) on Perchstar. And 7 other sick cats.

Riverclan's Herbs:

Wild Garlic x 22 (-8)
Lavender x 17 (-8)
Ragweed x 10 (-8)
Marigold x 16
Willow Leaves x 40
Cobnuts x 20
Burdock Root x 27 (-8)
Lambs Ear x 24 (-8)
Oak Leaf x 21
Tormentil x 15 (-8)
Coneflower x 0 (-8)

Perchstar heard something, saw something. Words were indistinct at this point. Something smelled bitter, tangy. Those were... herbs in front of her? A voice swam in her mind. Herbs. Healing. Well, she'd had enough trouble with this sickness already--it was worth a shot to recover. She was worth nothing to her Clan like this. It was difficult to force her mouth open even to ingest something, but she licked up the offered herbs and found that she could hardly even taste them. Maybe they would help... maybe not.

Some time passed after she had swallowed them. Her throat began slowly to clear up. And as she blinked, her vision slowly... gradually... started to clear. Before her, was that... Littlekit? No, if he was helping with herbs, then what Poppyshine had mentioned one night must have come true. "Little...paw?" she rasped out. There was a modicum of strength in her limbs again. She managed to sit up for the first time in maybe an entire moon... she couldn't remember. But stars did it feel good. Her ears pinned back slightly. She was being healed. It would take a little while, but maybe, just maybe, this illness would be gone for good. Though she couldn't really smile even if she wanted to, there was a depth of gratitude in her eyes that had scarcely been reached before. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Duckpaw was curled tightly into a ball in their nest, nose tucked underneath their tail with their eyes squeezed shut in vain prayers for sleep to take them. Their body ached, their mind swam and focusing on their deep desire to sleep - to escape how miserable they felt - was all they could manage. But despite everything, they weren't tired and their silent pleas went unanswered. Their ears twitched at the sound of pawsteps moving near them, an eye flickering open to try to make it out but a hiss escaped them as the light made their head pound and they quickly burrowed the entirely of their face into their tail to escape the headache-inducing sunlight.

Having taken to the edges of the makeshift warrior's den in an attempt to keep her illness to herself, Murkyriver's form was curled tightly into a ball. It was all in an attempt to keep whatever bodyheat that she had all to herself, only for her to completely outstretch belly-up into the frigid leafbare air not two heartbeats later. That only took a heartbeat before she'd curl right back up again, and at this point, she wasn't going to unfurl from her ball no mater who came or what approached. Even as the sound of herbs and promise of healing seemed to float by her ears, all that happened was a singular amber eye opening, squinting through even the dim light of the shade. "Last." The singular word was rasped in a much more commanding tone than she'd intended. She didn't want herbs yet, as her body would heal her plenty on its own. She just needed to rest a little bit longer...

Resting in his own nest was Snailpaw, shivering and weak. He felt cold but knew he was warm, and he could still taste the tang of blood in his mouth from coughing earlier. To top it all off, there was barely any comfort in the nest he had laid in. Sure, it was reasonably soft for his standards, but he never got to rest in it without feeling miserable.

Snailpaw opened his eyes, smelling herbs. He tried to lay upright to look at them properly.

"..Thank you." He whispered, mewing just loud enough for whoever had just dropped off the herbs.

He had coughed a bit before leaning forward and eating the herbs he was given. He could feel his head clearing already, and he didn't quite feel like hurling anymore. Snailpaw still felt tired, yes, but he was already feeling slightly better after a few minutes.

He laid back down, thinking about how sleeping will be so much easier now that he's beginning to feel better.