ALL YOUR MORNING GHOSTS ★ open

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    EMPTY CHAIRS AT EMPTY TABLES

    copperkit / thunderclan kitten / ♀ / tags

    *:･ﾟ✦ Mother Nature, with her leaves rustling and her children scattered against the feathery white snow, let her breath move through the Thunderclan camp. She pushed gently against the fur of matutinal apprentices, and buffered herself against the flanks of fatigued warriors who had been keeping watch over the night. In conjunction with her patron, the sun steadily rose over the horizon and cast milky dawn tendrils over the towering boulders, worn smooth by erosion and the scrambling of scrambling of leaders. Fatigued cats rose with daybreak, and somnolent chatter began to whisper among the wet snowdrifts.


    Copperkit, with two wide flaxen eyes, appeared at the mouth of the medicine den. Her body was already trembling with the wintry gusts, and her nearly ebony body vaguely resembled that of pest infested cottonwood being uprooted amongst a severe storm. In a nebulous cloud of bravado nearly transparent in the anemic youth, she made an impromptu journey away from the relative safety of the apothecary and into the early morning chill. An unforeseen jolt of vitality incorporating throughout her body, her little bounds became a trot, and her trot a run. Perhaps she wanted to show off, and make everyone see how healthy she was, and how she could scamper and scurry just like her peers. Maybe she just wanted to feel a little more normal and ordinary, more like she always slumbered away in the nursery with her momma and her brother, more like she engaged in all kinds of play fights and wasn’t always automatically resigned to being the medicine cat. Her dream was kept alive for a few moments too, and her hopes began to soar and fly and-


    Her paw caught on a thorn underpaw and her hind legs somersaulted over her head, her body following. Squeaks and various whispered expletives stole from her lungs as she tumbled, and her roll was only paused by her jaw unceremoniously hitting against the frozen earth and her hind legs skidding against the frosted grass. Her two yellow eyes widened to the size of saucers as she examined her body, searching for abrasions, when she found it. On her left forepaw, a lesion had tore through her fur and into her skin, and the deep, dark fur surrounding it now began to wet and mat with calignous crimson. Tears began to flicker in her optics and the crepuscular light glittered and bounced off of the them. Palpitations seized her heart and it threatened to break away from a prison made of rips and bones, pounding hard against her diaphragm. The blood didn’t seem to cease it’s flow; it kept coming and coming, as if nothing could possibly make the wound clot and sew her skin together. Anxiety clouded her mind as she searched the camp for anyone to help, sobs beginning to wreck her body. Copperkit didn’t know what to do.


    "Mama! Du-Du-Dusk! Cher!" she cried out, hoping desperately that someone might approach and aid her.


    / basically just compounding on her immunodeficiency disorder

    due to a lack of platelets, her blood can’t clot as well so she bleeds for much longer, even after very minor wounds, and she get’s frequent nosebleeds and headaches :^)


    /NOOO PRECIOUS COPPER


    The inky tabby form of Nightkit had been gathering materials to line his nest against the frigid ides of leaf-bare, figuring he couldn't get scolded too much if he stuck within the safety of camp. He was nearly apprentice-aged, after all, and he didn't like pestering others to do his bidding- especially due to the fact he was an orphan, well, to his knowledge anyway. However, cries interjected the current task at paw, causing his tufted ears to flick forward with alarm. He took off in the direction of the resounding call for help, skidding to a halt beside the heaving form of Copperkit, frozen grass brushing up against his faintly striped willowy limbs and numbing his broad paws.


    "Oh no," he murmured, his words barely intelligible through the tendrils of snowy moss hanging from his maw. He had planned to set it out to dry before using it for nesting material, but maybe he could use it to tend to Copperkit? At least until someone more qualified materialized onto the scene. He pressed the moss onto her matted wounds as best as he could, hoping the icy temperature of the plant would slow the flow of the crimson liquid running like tiny streams down his Clanmate's coat. I don't want to just leave her here while I look for someone else. "I-I don't know what to do." he admitted, his mouth now free to articulate clearly. He wasn't sure if she was strong enough to make her way back to the medicine den with him, but she needed someone with more knowledge to take a look at her as quickly as possible.

    ooc: omg poor smol bab <333


    Prey was running scarce in ThunderClan. Whitesmoke had been out hunting all morning with little luck. He was almost embarrassed to return to camp with only a measly blackbird to add to the fresh-kill pile, not bothering to take anything in return. He decided then that he would eat when he had more to contribute. But his rumbling stomach was long forgotten when a familiar cry rang out across camp, that of Copperkit, the perpetually ill kit. Head snapping up on high alert and trotting over quickly, he discovered her with a bloodied paw, Nightkit attempting to aid in any way he could, though the moss did little. Nodding to the kit, Whitesmoke encouraged him, "Good work. Keep that pressed there while I find some cobwebs in the medicine den." Of course, it would be better if Cherryburn were here, for she knew much more than he. For now, though, his limited knowledge would have to do. The tom rushed into the healers' den, returning soon after with a jawful of cobwebs. Sliding in beside Nightkit, he replaced the soaked moss with new cobwebs, wrapping them around the injury in hopes to slow the bleeding and help it clot.