When Orchidpaw was still a kitten, she hadn't been deaf. She could walk as well as any child could walk, hear as well as anyone else could hear. It was amazing, looking back on it, how much she had taken for granted. The thought always weighed heavy on her heart, and left her feeling like she couldn't breathe. It was that way now. She laid at the edge of camp, left ear to the ground and dulled eyes tracking the rise of the sun. Every day her condition grew worse. She didn't know how long she had left before she couldn't hear anything at all.
The siamese's eyes narrowed, part in anger and part in self-pity, and with a labored breath, she forced herself to her paws. Don't stumble. You can walk, you can... She mumbled, one dainty paw lifting, trembling, then setting down in front of her. Another landed off-target, but she was still standing. A third came next, solidifying her, but the fourth touched the ground so poorly that Orchid had to lurch backwards to keep her balance. She stood like this for a minute, uncomfortable, chest heaving with effort and nerves. It hadn't been so hard to stay upright before that morning.
Orchidpaw straightened, steeling her resolve as best she could, and struggled towards the medicine den. She could feel an anxiety attack coming on– her throat tightened, and breaths wouldn't come to her when she inhaled. All of her focus was on her steps, so it was a wonder that she wasn't in tears already.
Nobody was in the den when she got there, and the silence soothed her nerves. It was almost instantaneous– as soon as she stepped inside, the smell of mint filled her nose, and she breathed in again as though she had almost drowned just moments before. Her lips parted marginally as she scanned the herb storage. Chamomile, chamomile. It had a familiar scent, one that acted like a safety blanket, but this time she feared that its outer properties wouldn't be enough, and she decided to eat a couple of petals instead. Then, as soon as she felt its effects start to set in, she put herself to work, sitting by the herb stores and sorting them absentmindedly. Calm. Match. Work. Breathe. Calm.
//ugh this got longer and more redundant than i wanted it to be but! whatever right
come on skinny love, just last the year — tags