This thread takes place inside the clan's camp.
Thread Description TW: facial injury, blood

Needle

starlight
Colony Clan Founder
4
1
Freshkill
7
There is something wrong with her mouth. It's the first thing - the only thing - she can tell over the haze. Starbursts explode behind her eyelids, painting delicate spiderwebs in her unfocused periphery (they seem to pulse in time with the aching pain in her head... and mouth.) Slowly does she shift, adjusting her prone position to free a paw to explore the ache. Her fingers ghosted over the sharp ridge of her jawline, oddly prominent beneath her paw. Even the slightest touch lit a flame beneath her skin, a red-hot searing pain that made her eyes flutter in discomfort.

She tried at a mumble ("water") but the only water that dribbled from her ajar lips was a foamy line of red-tinged drool - even without seeing, she could taste the blood in the back of her throat. Some strangled mess of a noise erupted from her then (voluntarily or not, Needle couldn't tell) - something halfway between a wail and a choked sob. why did it hurt so bad?!
 
FLAME OF SHADOWCLAN

Flame stayed by Needle's side, his blue eyes sharp and watchful as he observed the cats around them. A shadow of doubt clouded his expression, but his resolve didn't waver. He had carried Needle here himself, unsure of her allegiances or intentions, unsure where she even wanted to go. All he knew was that she needed to be safe.

He couldn't forget the sight of the cat who had been with her, the one who had lain so close their noses had touched. That cat hadn't made it. Flame's heart clenched at the memory. He wouldn't let anything like that happen to her. Not Needle.

When she stirred, his ears flicked toward her. Relief mixed with concern as he meowed softly. " You're awake. " His worry was plain, etched into every line of his face as his head turned, searching for aid. It wasn't long before Marble appeared, carefully carrying moss dripping with water. Flame's shoulders sagged slightly, his tension easing just a fraction at the sight of help.



RUN BOY RUN ——・゚✦
・゚✦ —— THE SUN WILL BE GUIDING YOU



 
He hadn't meant to watch, nor had he meant to follow. But a mind like his gives no thought to intent—the moment is where he dwells, and the moment Needle's warbling moan reaches him, his paws spur to life, he's off and crossing the clearing with no inkling of restraint or stopping. Steps are surer than they feel, bounding over upraised roots and uneven divots in the earth. Nothing registers to him beyond that awful sound. When the drive in his skull clears and sight is made plain, it's her he sees: prone and pawing gingerly at her face with her jaw bent wide the wrong way.


Needle. The image is frozen there, wedged like a splinter; she makes for an abhorrent subject to linger on. Every uncertain - if not horrified - twitch of movement on her end stirs his chest tight. Needle. A jittery groan gathers at the back of his throat. "Jaw's hanging like a beaver chewed it loose," he has to mutter, so as to expel the thoughts that hound him. "Don't move it no more. Just lay still." Amber eyes roam from her to Flame, to Marble, back again; tension spreads to his limbs, forcing him to coil as though expecting something.


It's instinct that bids him to stay close, even if his assistance went no further than stating the obvious. What's a cat like him supposed to do? It's a hard line to walk. Noticing when it's appropriate to distance himself is tougher. Peculiarly, he isn't certain he has it in him to budge from his spot, lest Needle squirm the wrong way and break her jaw into a million pieces.

 

The sudden noise of agonizing pain makes her head jerk up. Her body tense and her spine of bristling fur spike up. Sharply she gets to her paws and much like Smoky she is moving toward the sound. Though whatever intent she has is lost on her as she comes toward the scene. Watching with almost too wide eyes as the molly touches her misshapen jaw that drools out red tinged saliva. The pain in the other is very much obvious. Very sharp against the gloom of their camp and she breathes in roughly before glancing to Smoky then. A question lingers in her gaze and then it forms on her muzzle. "Will...will she be able to eat...?" Like that? Will she be able to drink the water that Marble brings? A part of her doesn't know why she asks the question to him. Perhaps because he is the closest one to her that she does so but regardless she turns her gaze back to the scene then. Her maw becomes a thin line as she looks away finally.

There is not much else she can do in the situation. She knows nothing to help. Perhaps she can give some kind of comfort but she has never been the type to be...comforting. More elusive and solitary.
 
MARBLE OF SHADOWCLAN

Though Bone's question hung in the air, Marble couldn't do more but swallew the fear threatening to creep in. There was no time to dwell on what-ifs. Needle needed her now, and though she wasn't Cicada, she couldn't sit back and do nothing.

" Don't crowd her too much, fellows... " Marble murmured softly, her tone steady despite the uncertainty gnawing at her insides. She padded closer to Needle and lowered the moss, letting a few droplets fall onto the injured cat's muzzle. The sight of her frail form tugged at Marble's heart.

" Shh, shh… I know it hurts, dear one... " she soothed, her voice barely above a whisper. She nudged the moss closer, the water glistening. " But you need to try, just a little. Can you manage to drink? It'll help. " Stars above, she hoped it would help...

Marble paused, watching Needle carefully, her gaze soft but resolute. " You're strong. " she whispered, the quiet conviction in her tone meant to reassure Needle as much as herself. " Even a little will make a difference. "



GO ON AND TRY TO TEAR ME DOWN ——・゚✦
・゚✦ —— I WILL BE RISING FROM THE GROUND



 
its dead! poke it with a stick.

Fleakit was always the first to stick her nose in when something remotely interesting happened. Things had been pretty boring lately, and she—for one—welcomed a little excitement. Trotting over with her rear-end wiggling unstably, she squeezed her way through the legs of her taller peers, all fluff and bad attitude per usual.

"Move it, jeez." She muttered, slipping beneath their towering forms until she managed to wiggle her way to the front. Up on her tiptoes, she craned her neck to get a good look.

It was a sight that made even Fleakit cringe, and she'd seen a lot of messed up stuff. She winced, and something unpleasant settled in her chest—kinda that feeling she got when she stubbed her paw on a rock but also like she wanted to stub it again? There was a word for that, right?

She swallowed hard, giving her jaw a quick test to make sure it still worked. Whatever happened to Needle's face, it was fucking gross.

"Ewwwwww! Awesome!" She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. How was a cat supposed to eat that way? Far as she understood there was no fixing that. Most of the cats that ended up that way in the two-leg place were goners. Can't eat and you die, simple as that. That's if somethin' else didn't get you first.

"She's gonna die, right?" Fleakit asked casually and glanced back at the others. "Can I have her bones?" Fleakit always wanted to have another cat's skull, like how freakin' cool would that be?

  • ooc - - -
  • fleakit-anger.png
    I extend my hand like a mob boss and allow you to kiss my ring but when you lean closer you see its one of those glow-in-the-dark spider rings you win at arcades [MUNCH] you disrespec me - and eat my spooky spida ring! which cost me 50 tickets at funtime arcade and pizzeria. VINNY! Hit her with da sticky hand!​
  • FLEAKIT / FLEAPAW / FLEABITE
    - she/her
    - kit
    - 5 moons; ages on the 1st of every month
    - speech thought
    - physical powerplay permitted (take her away officers)

    penned by Scarlet
 
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