Post by ♏aple♢ on Oct 25, 2015 3:52:54 GMT
Fevers. Chills. Fevers again. His stores were so low- almost out of borage. Using it all on Petalfrost. They needed it for the fevers and coughing- but clover would work just as well if combined with coltsfoot. If only he had dogwood. Starclan knew it would do wonders for the array of symptoms that Eveningblaze's patients had developed. Migraines were the thing most often complained about. In the background as he went through his stores, Eveningblaze could hear Stonejaw moaning in pain. Darkness ringed the medicine cat's one functional eye. It had been like this for weeks. Different cats, same illness. And no matter what he gave his patients, the symptoms only eased for a short period of time.
They were getting worse.
This morning, Lightningpaw had seized.
His temperature had been through the roof. He couldn't speak- couldn't control his movements. The black and white apprentice had thrashed in his nest and kicked and clawed at the other patients while babbling incoherently. Cherrykit had been in the den at the time, and had watched in horror as Eveningblaze attempted in vain to save the young tom. But it had been no use. No use, no use, no use. Blood in the mouth- blood in the lungs. Blood in the brain, likely. Eveningblaze had ushered the kit out and attempted to restrain the apprentice- but what good had it done him? What good had it done either of them? Eveningblaze had no herbs for seizures. And he couldn't reach his stores for dock while holding down Lightningpaw. In the end, it wouldn't have made a difference either way, would it have? Lightningpaw would still be dead in his nest. They would just be out a few more leaves.
And what was Starclan doing about it? What was the oh great, oh mighty, oh wise Starclan doing about the ten cats- nine now- laying sick and dying in their medicine cat's den? Nothing. Not a damn thing. For once in his miserable life, they'd gone silent. How funny was it, that when he finally wanted their guidance, they'd disappeared on him? Ha. Ha, ha, hah. If this was their attempt at irony- at cruel humor- Eveningblaze wasn't laughing. Of course- what could those old fools do anyway, even if they tried? Nothing. Eveningblaze shook his head, orange eyes narrowed. Starclan couldn't do a damn thing, could they? With belief so shattered by illness and uncertainty, what power did they hold over the forest anymore? The bloodmoon hadn't been sent by them. Of course it hadn't. They couldn't preform such acts of power then- and certainly not now.
Not if they couldn't be bothered to send one damned dream to the last proper medicine cat in the forest.
Even the place of no stars offered little aid. Cats of violence and manipulation, many of his highers urged him to off Duskblaze while weakened, claiming leadership for himself. But Eveningblaze was no savage. Duskblaze might have been a fool- a fool who lacked his nine lives- but these cats were brash and young. They wouldn't follow him. Even if he was the only cat with any sense in this miserable excuse for a clan. Others urged him to off the ill cats himself- to get rid of the sickness in the bud. Keep others from getting infected. But that was the easy way out. Hah, that was another excuse. He just couldn't bare to see his daughter die- his Jaypaw, so bright and curious and loving- he just couldn't- he- he-... Eveninblaze stopped. The black tom sighed, looking down at his paws. He shook his head. What was he doing? What were... any of them doing? Was he losing his mind? He'd come here for a better life for Jaypaw. For a better life for himself. For a chance at power- for a chance at the life he'd given up. All he found now was death.
An orange eye trailed down his stores. The lowest point of the lowest corner- a dug cavern. Well hidden by grass and moss, but he knew what lay there. The easy solution.
But Eveningblaze would not give up. Not yet.
They may be low on herbs and morale. He may have been the only competent cat in this mess of a clan. But he wasn't going to use that yet. Not while there could still be hope. Not while... there was still a chance for Jaypaw. I won't lie to you. I will not say 'his eye blazed with renewed determination, and Eveningblaze would save these cats or die trying'. Because that is not Eveningblaze. That was never Eveningblaze, and it never would be. Eveningblaze was a cat of aggression and passion in his youth. He was a hard worker with ambitions that would stretch higher than any cloud, reach higher than any star. But now? He was tired. He was a tired, jaded medicine cat, who just wanted to make his daughter healthy again. He was a cat who was low on resources and high on stress, without enough medicine or prey to go around. He would save others if he could. But Jaypaw would always be his priority. Always.
The clover and coltsfoot would work for now. Eveningblaze deftly picked what stores of each he had left- effectively emptying the latter. This would ease Stonejaw's persistent cough and fever- as well as those of a few others. It wouldn't be enough. It never was. But he had to try for a cure. Even if Starclan had given up on these cats, he would not.
Not if they couldn't be bothered to send one damned dream to the last proper medicine cat in the forest.
Even the place of no stars offered little aid. Cats of violence and manipulation, many of his highers urged him to off Duskblaze while weakened, claiming leadership for himself. But Eveningblaze was no savage. Duskblaze might have been a fool- a fool who lacked his nine lives- but these cats were brash and young. They wouldn't follow him. Even if he was the only cat with any sense in this miserable excuse for a clan. Others urged him to off the ill cats himself- to get rid of the sickness in the bud. Keep others from getting infected. But that was the easy way out. Hah, that was another excuse. He just couldn't bare to see his daughter die- his Jaypaw, so bright and curious and loving- he just couldn't- he- he-... Eveninblaze stopped. The black tom sighed, looking down at his paws. He shook his head. What was he doing? What were... any of them doing? Was he losing his mind? He'd come here for a better life for Jaypaw. For a better life for himself. For a chance at power- for a chance at the life he'd given up. All he found now was death.
An orange eye trailed down his stores. The lowest point of the lowest corner- a dug cavern. Well hidden by grass and moss, but he knew what lay there. The easy solution.
But Eveningblaze would not give up. Not yet.
They may be low on herbs and morale. He may have been the only competent cat in this mess of a clan. But he wasn't going to use that yet. Not while there could still be hope. Not while... there was still a chance for Jaypaw. I won't lie to you. I will not say 'his eye blazed with renewed determination, and Eveningblaze would save these cats or die trying'. Because that is not Eveningblaze. That was never Eveningblaze, and it never would be. Eveningblaze was a cat of aggression and passion in his youth. He was a hard worker with ambitions that would stretch higher than any cloud, reach higher than any star. But now? He was tired. He was a tired, jaded medicine cat, who just wanted to make his daughter healthy again. He was a cat who was low on resources and high on stress, without enough medicine or prey to go around. He would save others if he could. But Jaypaw would always be his priority. Always.
The clover and coltsfoot would work for now. Eveningblaze deftly picked what stores of each he had left- effectively emptying the latter. This would ease Stonejaw's persistent cough and fever- as well as those of a few others. It wouldn't be enough. It never was. But he had to try for a cure. Even if Starclan had given up on these cats, he would not.
A/N: The Marsh cats have Weil's Disease. A much more severe form of Leptospirosis, it causes loss of appetite, fever, chills, weakness, intense headaches, vomiting, and red eye. When severe as it is, it causes liver damage, jaundice, lung problems, kidney failure, bleeding, and brain damage when it becomes infected (leading to confusion, aggressive behavior, and seizures among other things).
Its a bacterial infection being spread through the dirtplace, though it was originally contracted from bad voles and unclean water. Although, Evening doesn't know this at this point in time, as he's been spending almost all his waking hours either in his den, or out picking herbs.
Only turning to them when desperate, Evening has lost his Starclan connection due to completely rejecting their advice and excessive sharing of dreams with the dark forest. By the time he came to the clans, he had completely rejected the medicine cat's code. And now, even moreso. Even if Starclan was to reach out to him, he wouldn't be able to hear it anymore.
Its a bacterial infection being spread through the dirtplace, though it was originally contracted from bad voles and unclean water. Although, Evening doesn't know this at this point in time, as he's been spending almost all his waking hours either in his den, or out picking herbs.
Only turning to them when desperate, Evening has lost his Starclan connection due to completely rejecting their advice and excessive sharing of dreams with the dark forest. By the time he came to the clans, he had completely rejected the medicine cat's code. And now, even moreso. Even if Starclan was to reach out to him, he wouldn't be able to hear it anymore.