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    Palekit's road to recovery wasn't as smooth as Morningkit's. No, there was clearly something wrong with his body, like his immune system refused to respond the same way as his darkfurred sibling. It felt like he was always on the brink of death, like his fur was melting from his own body temperature. Not even the snow helped him sometimes, the frost of it just made a different sensation of being on fire. However, finally, after weeks of plagued illness he slowly started to be able to breathe without feeling clogged or like he was suffocating. Food began to have flavour, his vision began to clear, and soon he could return a sweet smile to the warriors and apprentices who gave him sympathy. But he has been told that something wasn't right with him. No, he wasn't the same and there was this overwhelming stress that overcame the boy. A queen who had nursed many kittens before had looked at him as if the boy was already dead: "I'm sorry." The older feline regularly checked on Palekit, checking his breaths and his heart beats. Irregular, strange, not healthy. The child, not quite understanding her apology, grew anxious and nervous and all kinds of afraid. Knowing the truth will only hurt him more.


    As of now, Palekit waddles out of the medicine cat den. He's being monitored because of his heart, but the boy figures he is alright. He can breathe, he can eat, he can smell things. He's not sick anymore, that's for sure. But at towering figures that wander past him, and sudden eyes upon his cream fur, the tabby cowers and his chest tightens in overwhelming fear.



    Morningkit's own return to health had gone much more smoothly than her brother's, but that did not mean that she was fine. Simply, the effects of the plague on her tiny body had gone unnoticed so far, the way she was always slow to react when cats came up on her left side treated like just some kit thing. She hadn't mentioned how it felt like a wad of sheep's wool had been stuck in her ear, blocking out most of the noise at first, and then all of it. How could she draw attention to herself when Palekit had still been shivering with fever as she played with a mossball? And she had noticed the pitying glances toward her brother, noticed how he was always being watched. It made her strangely protective, to know that someone was wrong but to not know what it was. And so she had taken to trailing after him, green eyes bright and tortoiseshell fur fluffed up.


    The sight of Palekit cowering was one that tugged at her gut, and Morningkit padded over to gently press to his side, taking deep breaths for him to follow along with. "Do you want to play a game of mossball? Or maybe explore a little bit?" she asked, voice far quieter than it usually was. Of course, she was still loud, unable to properly assess her volume, but she wasn't close to yelling, at the very least.

    THE UNCONTROLLABLE, FANTASTIC FLAME

    Lionstride / WindClan Warrior / ♀ /No Mate/Offspring/Crush / "No apprentice

    *:･ﾟ✦ Lionstride had been laying in the sun, trying to feel the warmth of the Sun as much as he could in the bitter cold. He hear spot footfalls and looked to see the sickly kit Palekit. He saw him walking over to the medicine den, getting up Lionstride cleared his throat walking over to the kit. It had seemed so many had given up on the little guy and it saddened Lionstride.

    "Morning you guys. I would mind some moss ball but perhaps a little fight? I'll be the fox you can be the warriors!" Anything to get Palekit's mood up, mentally always affected physicality. He nuzzled Paletkit gently and prodded Mosskit.

    "Speech."

    BEAUTIFUL ENOUGH TO DRIVE YOU INSANE YET HE'S WORTH THE PAIN

    Although the young boy saw his sister striding towards him, her appearance still made the child nervous. He was so shy while she was so good and brave and bolder than him. Her own confidence and almost maternal instincts made him feel strangely inferior to her. Maybe it was on account that the cream tabby was always coming in and out of the medicine cat den. One day it'll be a fever, the next some kind of strange feeling in his stomach or chest. Anxiety, they told him - whatever that meant. He presses his lips toward, ears lowering a little at Morningkit. There's no weak or forced smile upon his face, only discomfort and bright blue optics scanning for exit. Then his shining hues are captured by another WindClanner, a much older tom. He doesn't really like adults. They are always telling him what to do and what not to do so he feels constricted when he is around them, like an ant being ordered by its queen...except the queen is the rough, leathery outline of a putrid-smelling boot. Mossball, fight; he weighs the options but can't seem to find much delight.


    "I've never played mossball."



    Morningkit looked from Palekit to Lionstride for a moment, before shaking her head a bit. While a play-fight might be fun for her, she wouldn't have any fun knowing that Palekit would be left out of it. She knew mossball was something less rigorous that he could probably play without worrying some of the older cats who watched him s nervously. "No thank you," she began with a polite smile, before adding, "But you can play mossball with us, or help us explore!" That seemed like a good compromise, didn't it? She just wanted Palekit to feel happy, because he was always sick and didn't get to play many games.


    "I can teach you how to play mossball. It's not very hard, and you don't have to fight," the tortoiseshell and white kitten reassured Palekit, turning wide green eyes to her brother. "And if you don't feel up to playing, we can always look around. There's a lot of the camp we haven't seen yet," she added, certainly not wanting to upset him. She knew he would play mossball just to appease her in the hopes that she wouldn't yell at him like she did when he was sick, but she wanted him to want to do something.