TW: Sensitive Content SkyClan Journey 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃 | 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱

[LOSTMOON]

he is a wild child with a wanderer soul that dances with the stars. he has a free spirit, a reckless mind, and a rebel heart that isn't meant to be tamed. love his wild and you will never lose him.

​

Oh, no. Oh, no. Lostmoon shivered, nausea rolling uneasily in his gut, nose wrinkling with a soft, pathetic whine. Why now? He was having such a good day too! Minus the aching paws and several blisters decorating his paw pads, but that was only minor stuff! He'd just gotten his family to cuddle—Lionfire too, shockingly enough, but the tom could never deny his puppy dog look—for the night.

It was early morning, but Lostmoon was still proud of his small feat. Surrounded by his adoptive kin, his warmth had soothed most of his worries and fraying nerves, and he'd actually slept the entire night instead of wandering their makeshift camp for the day until he passed out. It was a work in progress, okay? He was trying.

He gagged, heaving up whatever was left in his stomach the night before (which wasn't much; Lostmoon had little appetite these days). He stumbled to aching paws, tumbling away before anyone noticed his quivering form collapse. His shoulders hunched inward, he expelling his stomach's contents all over the ground.

He hated throwing up. It hurt and tasted awful, coating his tongue in acid and leaving his mouth sour as he dry heaved, stomach clenching in distress.

It wasn't the first time he'd suffered these nauseating spells. Since hitting four weeks, Lostmoon's morning sickness had been ruthless. Of course, the petite tom had covered it up, trying to, at least with discrete words and far too big smiles to be considered normal before bolting to the nearest shielded spot to upchuck whatever he'd eaten.

​

sacrifice, that's what we do ✦✦ for the people we love

• ooc
  —— brief descriptions of throwing up. lostmoon has been hiding his morning sickness since the start of the journey while refusing to eat and if he does, it's little so feel free to take creative liberty with that
• 
  still, there is this terrible

  desire

  to be

  loved

  
  
  still, there is this

  horror

  at being

  left behind

  ​
  ​
• lostmoon he/him
  ♡ a petite black smoke albino mackerel tabby chimera with pretty owlish pink eyes and vitiligo
  ♡ caregiver of skyclan
  ♡ forty-two moons; ages on the 1st of every month
  ♡ speech thought attack
  ♡ peaceful + healing powerplay permitted
  
  
  penned by blueblossomtea​

​

 

[[SNOWVEIL]]

SNOWVEIL, 88 moons / SkyClan + Perm Queen
A lean silver black lynx point with milky blue eyes and many scars
Delights in listening to all that goes around, can be a bit gruff, will put you on your place
Tagging @LOSTMOON

---

" You've been denying yourself food. " came Snowveil's firm meow as she padded closer to where Lostmoon stood. Her sharp sense of hearing had made her a light sleeper, and no sound escaped her notice. That was how she'd heard Lostmoon slip away from the protective pile of warmth the others shared.

In her quiet, observant way, Snowveil had been keeping an ear out for Lostmoon. He was with kits, after all, and as a permanent queen, she saw it as her duty to care for all the young ones and their parents, when needed.

" Lostmoon... " she softened her tone, gently brushing her striped tail against his flank in a gesture of reassurance. Her expression, though sightless, held an undeniable warmth. She remembered all too well the trials of morning sickness, how it could drain you both physically and emotionally. She tilted her head slightly, her whiskers twitching as if trying to pinpoint something only her keen senses could detect. " …Come. You have the eyes; I only have the scent. " she murmured, nudging him gently. Her voice carried the steady authority of someone who cared deeply.

" Get yourself to some fresh water. Drink. " she urged, her tone soft but unwavering. " It will do you good. "

DON'T LET MY CALM FOOL YOU

there's fire underneath this snow

 

[Fujimoto]

┍

Hearing Lostmoon's retching had sent a prickle of unease down Fuji's spine, every hair along his vertebrae lifting like pointed quills. It filled him with guilt to react so quickly with panic more than concern as it sent his heart lurching for his throat. Fujimoto lowered his head to where his ears met his paws and tried to shake it out of him, letting a shudder pass through his chest before rising again. He could hear Snowveil talking distantly now, already moving on to comfort the expecting parent.

With the worst of it gone (namely the sounds, stars it was like claws scratched across stone), Fujimoto stood to join the pair awkwardly. "I can fetch you some prey while we're still resting." The curly-furred tom offered, before quickly adding, "I mean, I will, get you some prey. Don't go too far! I can find something, surely." Even with all the stars-damned snow, Flowercloud's teachings hadn't been useless on him.

‎┙

 

[TIGERFOOT]

Tigerfoot was well acquainted with treating morning sickness. He'd been dealing with caregivers and their soon-to-be kits since he entered Skyclan and he doubted he'd stop anytime soon. He'd been taking a brief rest when he'd heard the familiar sounds of retching. His shoulder ached, his leg throbbed, but it wasn't as though he could ignore the caregiver he'd been concerned about the entire journey. He took a moment to breathe before heaving himself up and grabbing one of his bundles of herbs. They were running low but he'd made an effort to grab whatever he could find as they travelled.

" Lostmoon, how are you feeling? " He inquired kindly as he approached the petite tom, dropping the bundle of herbs by his own paws. " Would you like something to ease your nausea? " Chervil was all that they needed right now. Tigerfoot, ideally, would have been able to add in some honey or something for taste but there wasn't exactly an extensive amount of usable beehives around. He was looking forward to settling a camp and territory again, knowing where things were. It'd be better for everyone.

 

[LOSTMOON]

he is a wild child with a wanderer soul that dances with the stars. he has a free spirit, a reckless mind, and a rebel heart that isn't meant to be tamed. love his wild and you will never lose him.

​

He flapped a paw in Snowyveil's direction, momentarily forgetting she was blind, not wanting to worry anyone about his lack of appetite and puking his guts out at random hours of the day. Yeah okay, he probably should have gone to Swallowpaw or Tigerfoot, but sue him for thinking this'll all blow over in a few days. It didn't.

Whoever said he'd get a pleasant glow and forgot to mention his body practically rejecting itself can take a nice dip in a lake. Thank you. He shuddered, smacking his lips at the awful taste left in his mouth, making his stomach roll unpleasantly. It was enough for him to gag, drawing an unpleasant sound from the expecting tom.

"Don't wanna." He muttered. Lostmoon was ready to flop onto his side and shove his head in a hole or his face into his dad's messy fur. That usually worked when he didn't want to deal with the world, especially when his mate perished. Wolfstorm and Lionfire too, even if Lionfire nearly sent him face-planting into the mud—the absolute jerk.

His lips cracked in a weak grin in Fujimoto's direction, not thrilled at all at the aspect of eating when his stomach was eating itself alive. "Don't think—I mean, yeah, that sounds fine." He worried them enough and how could he deny the selfless offer? He'll tough it out. He always did. Fake it till you make it he always says!

"Oh! I'm—" He paused, his muzzle wrinkling in a grimace, and his head whipped to gag helplessly. Fine. Foxdung. He shuddered, pressing a paw to his rounded belly helplessly. I'd chew my hind leg off it'd stop the nausea. "That would ah be great?" He offered hesitantly, leaning against whoever was closest to the pregnant tom with a bowed head.

​

sacrifice, that's what we do ✦✦ for the people we love

• ooc
  —— xxx
• 
  still, there is this terrible

  desire

  to be

  loved

  
  
  still, there is this

  horror

  at being

  left behind

  ​
  ​
• lostmoon he/him
  ♡ a petite black smoke albino mackerel tabby chimera with pretty owlish pink eyes and vitiligo
  ♡ caregiver of skyclan
  ♡ forty-five moons; ages on the 1st of every month
  ♡ speech thought attack
  ♡ peaceful + healing powerplay permitted
  
  
  penned by blueblossomtea​

​