storms make trees take deeper roots
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Post by cosmic on Jan 4, 2024 9:59:59 GMT -6
#s://i~imgur~com/WMouXZE~png canary | | ever see,
ever be,
ever know my heart |
It had been quite a few nights since she had been attacked by the couple of cats hissing something about "PrairieClan", and it had only become downhill for the molly ever since. Not being able to have her Twoleg take her to get her wounds cared for, they quickly became painful to the touch. With her wounds covered in dried blood and burning with infection, it wasn't long before she felt herself come down with a fever.
Oh, if only Whitney was still here. If Whitney was here, she would make Canary feel so much better.
But she would be back soon, as she was headed toward the large, gray-brown structure in front of her. That had to be the Twolegplace, just at a different angle than she had seen before, right? But the more time that it took to approach the structure, the heavier her paws felt with each step. Her burning temperature didn't help her feel warm in the wintry weather, as chills were sent down her body.
But as she got close enough to see around the structure, her eyes looked in horror. She was no where near the Twolegplace! "Oh, Whitney," she muttered under her breath, almost as if her body was close to hitting the ground. "I'm sorry."
Canary then looked at the structure of building in front of her, unknown to her as a barn, as she started to turn away from the fence line that was a couple fox-lengths from her. However, before she could make it more than a couple steps, her legs began to buckle under her. Her vision became fuzzy before she could even flex her paws to stand again.
This was it? That's all there was? Canary looked at the ground before her. All that she would do would slowly perish under the falling snow with untreated wounds. Not the ending she hoped for. All she wanted to do was be in Whitney's arms. The calico molly couldn't help but purr at the thought for a moment. If she was lucky, maybe this was a dream, she would wake up in Whitney's arms before the pain could take her. Her eyes closed, with her breathes still rising and falling.
'I'm coming home, Whitney.' |
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Post by adrian on Jan 8, 2024 19:58:35 GMT -6
#s://i~ibb~co/DWB8GtB/percy~png Unfortunately for Whiskey, his dissatisfaction with her presence at the Barn was not always enough to keep Percy away. She had as many friends among the cats of the Barn as he did, and he could hardly turn away a pair of willing hands when she offered to help collect herbs, help hunt, help keep the injured safe. If a few among them decided to throw their luck in with her and Foxglove along the way, then that was their choice. So long as she didn't loudly express her opinions, he couldn't really complain about it. Well. He could complain. She thought he was pretty skilled in that regard, though she wouldn't say so, to keep the peace. Today, she was at the barn with a bundle of herbs to support the kittens' growth and diets during the harshness of winter. She checked in with her usual friendly acquaintances, picked up some gossip and information to being back to the cabin, and then was on her way before the testy cat could raise a fuss about any of it. Only when she stepped out of the barn, she caught a scent on the breeze that made her fur bristle. At first, she couldn't place it. Something tinged with the scent of the clans, yet not of the clans. Almost sweet, but in a sickly way. And iron - like blood. And then she saw the movement of a distant cat, losing her footing as she walked beside the chicken-wire fence. Before she could call out to this stranger, the cat collapsed. With an expression of grim focus, Percy immediately darted over to this fallen cat, briefly acknowledging her infected wounds before checking for breathing. With breathing confirmed, she very gently attempted to wake her. Even if she wasn't successful, she knew the others at the barn would come aid this cat - but better if she woke now, than if she let herself succumb to fever. "C'mon, little bird, wake up," she said, gently nosing her forehead. "We have herbs. You will be tended to here. But you must wake." |
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storms make trees take deeper roots
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Post by cosmic on Jan 13, 2024 22:19:44 GMT -6
#s://i~imgur~com/WMouXZE~png canary | | ever see,
ever be,
ever know my heart |
All that she heard for a few moments was her own heartbeat in her ears. It was almost as if the Earth was rising and falling beneath her with each breath that was taken. Time seemed to have slowed, with the darkness of her eyelids consuming her. If she were to perish eventually, it would be the best luck that she could receive. Her wounds still burned on her sides, as she tried to hard to give her soul up to what ever happened after her life was over.
"C'mon, little bird, wake up."
She heard it through the pounding of her heart. She really did pass? That was Whitney, it had to be. The voice was disoriented and didn't sound like any she could recognize. But it had to be her, right?
But the pressure of something touching her forehead seemed to jar her awake. Canary could only see what looked to be a cat in front of her. She didn't really die? Despite her believing that she was dead, it seemed that it was not actually so. It was a mixed feeling, as she was happy to still be alive, but the pain still caused her to wince as the cat before her spoke again. And Whitney. What about Whitney?
"H-Herbs?" She spoke for the first time before collapsing. "Like what the Twolegs plant sometimes in their yards?" Canary had never heard of them being used to "tend" to another, only that they would sometimes use them to eat.
"But, Milo told me that cats in the wild only want to kill each other. Why would you help me? Plus, whoever I ran into wasn't very nice," Canary, again, winced in pain, as she tried to gather her feet underneath her. Even if her impression on the wild cats of this land was poor, it seemed like this ruddy she-cat had good intentions. The calico caught the eyes of the only very slightly larger cat, maybe a whisker-width taller at the ears. Wow, she looked as pretty as a housecat, despite not having a completely clear coat. "Are you a housecat? Are your Twolegs in that red building? And they could take me to the vet?"
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Post by adrian on Feb 15, 2024 10:22:54 GMT -6
#s://i~ibb~co/DWB8GtB/percy~png The unknown cat seemed disoriented when she woke, but some confusion was to be expected. Something about her wounds spoke of infection; she could be feverish. That's what Percy assumed, in any case. Surely most cats passed on knowledge of healing to each other, regardless of what culture they came from. But then the stranger kept speaking. "But, Milo told me that cats in the wild only want to kill each other. Why would you help me? Plus, whoever I ran into wasn't very nice." Her voice was soft. Like a song, weakened by whatever or whoever attacked her. She couldn't speak to whatever this Milo said - the name didn't ring a bell. This lost cat must have come a long ways. The cat attempted to stand, and Percy, seeing her sway, stepped beside her to offer balance. "Not here," she said, giving her a once over to decide if she thought the house cat could walk on her own. "Here, we take care of each other.""Are you a housecat? Are your Twolegs in that red building? And they could take me to the vet?"She frowned. "I don't know this word - vet. We are only cats. There are no two-legs." Maybe barns further out in the farm might have two-legs visit from time to time, but they still would hardly offer cures to stray cats they found residing within. She didn't want to frighten this cat, though, so she softened her expression. If she was attacked before, she didn't want her to think she'd be attacked again, now. "As I said, we will take care of your injuries. Can you walk?" |
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storms make trees take deeper roots
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Post by cosmic on Feb 27, 2024 13:15:42 GMT -6
#s://i~imgur~com/WMouXZE~png canary | | ever see,
ever be,
ever know my heart |
"You take care of each other? All of you? With no Twolegs, I... how?" All she had known were Twolegs, from the moment she was born until now. Without her collar, she couldn't really prove that fact, but she was sure her questions was enough.
"A vet, it was what my Twoleg would call it. It was a Twoleg that would look over me for injuries and illnesses. Sometimes they would poke me with sharp things, and it would hurt. But Whitney would tell me that it was all okay. That it would help me." Do these cats not have a vet? Have they ever interacted with a Twoleg? So many questions swirled her head to make her more nauseous than before.
The ruddy she-cat asked her another question, as she felt too exhausted to answer honestly. "Yes, I can walk. I-I'm sorry you have to help me. I tried to find Whitney, but I ran into other cats. I had no idea what they were talking about, and they attacked me." Canary carefully took her first step, with shaky limbs and eyes expressive of pain. She had gotten this far, she would do everything she could to at least make it to the barn. She waited for the other she-cat to walk as well before starting to limp toward her final destination for a while.
"You mentioned herbs. What do you do with them?" How would plants help her situation? Canary tried her best to sound as neutral as possible, but a judgmental tone couldn't help but slip up. She just didn't understand anything, it seemed. "I forgot to mention my name. I'm sorry, I am just so disoriented. I'm Canary, like the bird." |
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Post by adrian on Apr 28, 2024 10:06:32 GMT -6
#s://i~ibb~co/DWB8GtB/percy~png "You take care of each other? All of you? With no Twolegs, I... how?" the other cat asked, charmingly confused if not for Percy's slight concern that she may be disoriented from injury. Better to have her seen to now, before it gets worse. Whiskey might not enjoy her presence, but he wouldn't turn away a cat in need. And Summit certainly wouldn't turn her away. She said simply, "We have no need for two-legs. I have never known one, and many here share the same story." Perhaps life with two-legs would be easier. But she enjoyed her freedom, and she still had vengeance to exact on the tom who abandoned her mother. Then again, as the pet-cat described what exactly a vet was, Percy thought maybe life with two-legs wouldn't be easier, with all that poking and prodding she described. It sounded... quite horrible, really. She would take balms and slaves made from herbs over that any day. "Yes, I can walk." What a relief. Still, Percy stayed close, to steady her as needed. "I-I'm sorry you have to help me. I tried to find Whitney, but I ran into other cats. I had no idea what they were talking about, and they attacked me."
Other cats. She didn't think she needed to ask who those cats were, though she would ask for details later. Once she was more stable. Poor molly had a limp, too. Whoever attacked her should be ashamed. "You mentioned herbs. What do you do with them?" she asked, sounding like she never once considered that a plant might have healing properties. Didn't those house cats have catnip growing in their yards? With some amusement coloring her tone, Percy said, "I do very little with them, unless a wound urgently needs patching. There are cats who dedicate their lives to learning the uses of herbs - they can treat infections, even illnesses, with the abundance of flora around us." "I forgot to mention my name. I'm sorry, I am just so disoriented. I'm Canary, like the bird."What a coincidence that she'd called her little bird, before. "Canary. I'm called Percy - Persimmon. Like the fruit." They were close to the barn, now. "Easy now, we're almost there." |
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