i take care of it all, it's medicinal [C]

Fish
T1 Rogue | Rogue | he/him

It was with a limp to his gait that Fish came shuffling through into the Crew's little camp. He'd gotten a bit bigger, and Pop said they could wander now. Fish was always careful not to go far, always keeping the outlying crags in sight so he wouldn't get lost, but his paws were itching to go farther. There was a world beyond their hollow stones: he could hear songbirds, hear strange animals scratching in the dirt, see faraway flowers. Fish wanted to chase the sunrise and catch it in his teeth.

Well-- he did, until he got tangled in a dead thorn bush. A few of its barbs got caught in one of his pads when he tried, yelping, to scramble out of it. It left him with several stinging scratches on his sides too. At least he hadn't gone more than a few paces before getting wrapped up, so the whining walk back to the Crew wasn't far. It felt like his entire lifetime, though. The pain set all of Fish's senses on edge. His head tipped around, letting his nose find the strong scent of Alethea's alcove so he could pick out her den. Once he did, Fish wobbled over as quickly as he could to peer inside.

"Oh, good," he sighed. The large molly was there. Sucking in a deep breath, Fish gathered all of his balance to sprint over to her without falling on the way. He buried himself in her thick-furred side, rubbing his muzzle into his ribs and quietly hissing over how it aggravated his scratches. "Allleetheaa!" Fish wailed. The moment of calm he held while peeking in was gone entirely. Pulling away, he looked up at Alethea with round, miserable eyes and whined, "I have thorns in my paw! And- and look at me!" He brushed the wounded paw over his muzzle, smearing the single drop of blood that welled. Butting his head into her side again, he went on, "You have to use your yucky plants and do something about it!"

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