[spoiler="MISS THE WHOLE POINT || open, returning + cure"]Setekh had been gone for a good long while. He'd missed quite a bit, though with his bond with Radio via telepathy, he could assume the rest of the clan was still suffering. After his demotion, the sha had teleported away, thinking death had been approaching quick on the horizon. He'd assumed that his burning fever was going to take his life. After saying goodbye to Radio, he lied at the edge of the rainforest, shuttering breaths wracking his frame, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, eyes unfocused and blank. He'd been crying. He wasn't even able to touch Radio's fur one last time. He wasn't able to see his face, or look into his beautiful glowing green eyes. He wasn't able to hug him, or kiss him, or curl his tail around his fiancé's own. Instead, it had been like calling him from a prison cell over the phone to tell him he was going to die. It felt cold, detached and painful. As he'd talked to the leader through that telepathic bond, his voice had wavered, he'd begun to sob, and he'd been sure he could hear the anguish in Radio's voice too. Everything hurt.
As he'd lied on the edge of the jungle, waiting for death to take him, he'd continued talking to his fiancé. They talked for hours, and Set's voice was slowly fading as he'd struggled to keep up the bond. As it finally faded away, it had not been the fever that had taken him, but sleep. He had not died; not yet, anyway. He didn't know how long he had been asleep before finally his eyes cracked open as he'd felt his body being jostled. The energy in his body was too little to fight back, but he briefly got a glimpse at those who were moving him: Humans. Humans were taking him away. Again, he had started up his telepathic bond with Radio, and again, they talked. He was moved from a fast moving car to some building, where he lie on a cold wooden table, his body burning as the people forced him to eat strange dried plants from a single bundle and talked in hushed tones. Every now and then a hand would cradle his head, and a woman stroked her fingers down his muzzle and under his eyes. Her fingers would play with his ears, and he'd press into her comforting touch. The people seemed puzzled over the jewelry he wore, but each time they tried to remove it, he'd lunge forward, snapping and growling at them until they left it be. He was in this strange place for a day, and then night fell. He was moved into a kennel.
He had a den that they had made for him. It was a cage, sure, but it was large. The ground was made up of a plush carpet. Two clean food and water bowls were nestled into the corner, and a small overhang with a blanket draped over it to make it dark inside was used as a bed. He was kept here for two weeks, and each day, he felt stronger. He was recovering. The bond with Radio was never lost, and he'd continued to talk to the leader, his voice strengthening and his tone becoming more and more excited as each day passed. He'd found the cure to the sickness, and he'd figured out a way to escape.
At night, his plan had gone into action. He unlocked the cage, slipped out, and conjured a bag that he'd gripped between his teeth. He slipped into the place he'd first been brought, nosing the dried herb bundles they'd used on him into the bag, and they were all labeled with the same jumble of scribbles, so he knew they were all the same medication. They smelled like an odd mash up of herbs; this place was a sanctuary, so he assumed that these people only used nature-based medications, which explained the act of shoving crinkly leaves down his throat. Breathing in deeply, the now healthy sha pushed his way out the dog door and back into nature. He was out. "I—m com—g b—ck! I fou—d th—e cu—re!" His voice, broken up and hard to hear, was thrown across Shadowclan's camp with the use of telepathy and soundwave manipulation. Now, all he had to do was go home and fix this.
Keeping up his bond with Radio, it took him almost three days to find his way back to their camp. He flew in his wyvern body most of the way, following the sound of Shadowclan with his super senses, and though he was tired, he didn't stop. He had to heal his clan. When he finally crossed the border, the dank smell of sickness hit him like a wall, and he wrinkled his nose. It smelled disgusting, really. Conjuring a facemask and a scarf as he had done before, the sha creature pushed his way through the ferns on shaky paws, the bag still gripped in his jaws, and finally, his paws led him to the temple. The clan looked like a ghost town, and he fought the urge to cry. Instead, he shook his head, jumping up onto the place Radio usually used to call for clan meetings. Time to save this clan.
"Excuse me! All those who are healthy and all those who are sick, please gather in the middle of camp!" the former deputy called, strength in his voice, so unlike what he'd been like when he'd assumed he would die. His mismatched gaze turned to the bag at his paws, and he nosed open one of the cases, exposing the leafy dried wraps inside. "I've brought the cure for all of you! I want to give these herbs to both the sick and the healthy, as you likely all carry it, whether you show its symptoms or not. These bundles are a mixture of herbs, and from what I can smell, a bunch of them. Feverfew, lavender, chamomile, tansy, willow leaves, mallow leaves, and one I cannot figure out." he paused, taking a breath. "We need to grow most of these things to save this territory. The prey will eat them and be cured, and thus, we will be cured as well. Feverfew and lavender is for the fever and headaches. Chamomile gives strength. Tansy soothes coughing, and I can give honey to help with the pain. Willow leaves will stop vomiting. Mallow leaves will soothe the stomach ache. If you need it, I will give you goatweed to help with anxiety and grief. I know a few of you who need it." His gaze wondered to wherever Radio had positioned himself, and he breathed in, gaze hardening as he looked away from his lover. "Those who are sick, get to the front of the line. Those who aren't, get behind them. It's time we fought against this sickness and destroyed it once and for all." He jumped down, taking his bag with him, and took out the first bundle of herbs, dropping it to the first person in line. "Eat one wrap at a time, and Amun be with you." he mumbled to each person before they left. They would be able to save them now. He sent a tired smile toward his fiancé, exhaustion evident in his eyes, though they sparkled with pride.
Shadowclan was going to survive.
// whoops hey guys i'm back
sorry for the absence! i'm looking forward to roleplaying with you all again! <3
also don't match my muse aha
it's mostly just backstory as to why he was gone
set bringing back the cure is approved by tectonic, by the way[/spoiler]
[spoiler="WHAT A DELIGHT — o, visitor"]Ah, what a tiresome angel.
When one fell from Heaven, they did not simply do as they wished. Obviously, after transitioning from goodness to sin, those of the light were confused, scared and lost. Hell was a completely new place, after all, and it was to be a fallen angel's home until they could either prove themselves and return home or simply fade into the demon realm. Hell was not a safe place, either. Though many demons could be helpful, that did not protect one of the fallen from the more dangerous beings lurking around every corner, and as such, a guide was assigned to each corrupted angel. A protector, if you will. They were bound, mind and body, to one another, and the more experienced demon was to look after the fallen angel with a sharp eye. He would be punished, lest he did not do his job. And unfortunately, Dansemacabre was assigned one of these helpless angels as well.
As soon as he'd met Hiraeth, he was answered with such vehemence and hatred that he couldn't help but chuckle. The other serval had been so stuck up that one could truly find it a bit pitiful. He hadn't even been able to explain himself all that much before his words had fallen on deaf ears; the angel had refused to talk to a vile demon such as he, instead flying away, likely aiming to escape. Unfortunately, however, he could not. The bond they now shared made it easy to locate where his little friend had flown off to, and after allowing him a little bit of time to get comfortable, Danse had set off after Hiraeth, his gait slow and calm. He had time to catch up to him. It wasn't like he'd be able to get away.
It took a few hours, perhaps a day at most, to arrive at Sunclan's border. The raven furred serval's crimson gaze swept across the territory, his white-ringed tail tip flicking lightly, and he cleared his throat, hoping to get the attention of those in the area. "Excuse me." the male stated calmly after a few moments of silence, his voice deep and smooth, just as a demon like himself should sound. Seduction laced the edge of his words, ever present and ignored by the creature of lust, and he ruffled his feathered wings idly, white paws pressing together neatly as he settled onto his haunches. A coy smile flickered at his lips as his chin tilted upward, white ringed ears swiveling backward to brush against his horns. "Pardon me for being a bother, but I'm here to pick up my trash. He's a short serval, black fur, black wings, purple eyes. Has anyone seen him? He seems to have gotten lost." Was it a bit rude to label him as trash? He pondered this for a moment, then huffed a chuckle out his nose, bowing his head a bit. No, it wasn't rude. That was what he was, after all.[/spoiler]
[spoiler="THE GENTLE MURMUR IN HIS EARS > open, joining"]He didn't know where he was, or rather, he couldn't remember. A fading memory was what Direpromise ran off of each day, and with each throb of dull pain that shot across his skull, he found himself forgetting more and more things. At first, it was small details. He'd forget the eye color of a close friend, or perhaps he wouldn't remember where a scar of theirs was. He would forget what an herb cured. He would take the wrong fork in a path he had traveled many times. Over time, though, his forgetfulness worsened. He couldn't remember who Kaijū was when he got up in the early hours of morning, even though he'd been the leader of Gael Village, and it'd been obvious that the smaller male had had a crush on him. The name of his younger brother slipped from his memory at times. Hell, sometimes he couldn't even recall his own name. He struggled on a daily basis to speak to others, to tell them about himself, his family, his friends, his alliance. All of it was slipping, and though he knew one day he would wake up and remember nothing about himself, he tried his hardest to put that thought off.
The dire wolf pushed his way through an unfamiliar land, unsure of how long he had been walking. He was following the scent of a border, his black tail low to the ground and his grey eyes dull, trailing along the ground as he walked with knitted invisible eyebrows. An ache ate away at his skull, and he paused to reach into his satchel, pulling out a few raspberry leaves with a shaky paw and shoving them into his muzzle. After eating those, he continued to take more; two more pawfuls of raspberry leaves, then a good dose of poppy seeds, and another dose, and a third. A shutter wracked his body, exhaustion evident in his eyes as he stepped over the scent mark he'd been following, continuing further into the unfamiliar territory. The wolf didn't find it as pretty as Gael Village, where he'd been the deputy, but he supposed he could make do. "He... Hello," he called uncertainly, his voice dull and vaguely shaky. He just wanted to sleep. He didn't continue past there, instead falling to his haunches and hunching over, pressing his paws to his muzzle and letting out a painful sounding groan, his eyes shutting tightly. Hopefully someone would find him before he passed out.[/spoiler]