Doing Just Fine

[Tinpaw]

OOC: This is a plot thread, if the Stoneclan medicine cat could join in that would be superb.

Tinpaw stretched as she exited the apprentice’s den. She was up early today, since she was scheduled to train with her mentor in the morning. She didn’t mind being the first apprentice up; in fact, she kind of liked it. It just showed that she was more devoted to her training than her brother and sisters. She felt proud and a bit smug about this. She had the foresight to eat a piece of freshkill before she went to badger Marbleback about training so as to give her as much energy as possible.

Even before she had finished devouring the freshkill, she felt a little funny. She couldn’t quite pinpoint the feeling, and figured it was just a side-effect of getting up early. Tinpaw wasn’t usually a morning person, after all. But the funny feeling in her gut suddenly worsened when she stood up to go get her mentor. A wave of nausea washed over the apprentice, forcing her to sit back down. She looked around, confused and afraid. Everything was spinning. The light gray female closed her eyes, unable to bear the dizziness.

“Everything’s spinning.” Tinpaw repeated her thoughts aloud in a quiet murmur. She chanced a peek between her half-closed eyelids, but quickly shut them again as she felt the urge to throw up. Tinpaw felt trapped… she couldn’t move or even speak for fear of becoming sicker. No… I have to get better, I need to train today! She tried her hardest to convince herself she was fine, which only served to give her a headache.

[IRONCALL]

Early mornings were not foreign to the silver-grey tom, and he had long ago developed the habits of an early riser. The crisp clean morning air was always a welcome relief, plus in the days when he was in and out of the den constantly, tending wounds and generally being a helping hand when it was needed -- the morning before the dawn patrol was a great time to gather supplies. Most cats wouldn't need him. It had always been risky business leaving the clan alone, but he had rationalized it to himself by going only when he found there to be a dire need of something. Despite the lull in sick cats and Thatchpaw's naming as his official apprentice, that situation had not changed. While Ironcall was confident that his young apprentice would one day be a medicine cat to make him proud, he knew that these first few moons of his training were not the time to pressure him. They were not the time to break his spirit, not while he was so young -- and so Ironcall was still just as hesitant to leave the camp in Thatchpaw's care. That was why he was awake so early, about to set out for some needed gathering.

That was, until he saw a tiny cat almost slumped by the freshkill pile. He wouldn't have questioned it, it was early morning and she was no doubt tired, except when her eyes rolled open briefly he caught the fear and confusion swirling in them, even if only for a moment. Even as he hurried over, the older cat was observing. She was swaying. It was slight -- but she might have been disoriented and dizzy.

"Tinpaw!"

He crouched beside her, "Tell me what's wrong, Tinpaw. Can you look at me, can you move? We should get you in the den."

[/size]

[Tinpaw]

Completely absorbed in trying to force herself to get better, Tinpaw didn’t notice when another cat approached her. She only realized she was being hovered over by the medicine cat when she heard his familiar voice in her ear. It took her longer than it should have to process what he was saying, since the growing pain in her head seemed to have dulled her mind in a way. How could things have gotten so bad so quickly?

Ironcall asked many questions, one of which was whether or not she could look at him. This seemed to be the easiest task that he had asked of her, so she focused on that first. With what seemed to her to be a massive effort, Tinpaw pried her eyelids open. The bright light of the morning sun made her head pound even more, causing her to quickly shut her eyes again. Perhaps telling him what was wrong would be easier? Her stomach lurched at the thought. She feared that if she opened her mouth she would not be able to stop herself from vomiting. Instead of an explanation, all that came out of her was a quiet complaint. “I don’t feel so good…”

Yes, the den! She needed to get to the medicine cat’s den. Surely Ironcall would have some sort of herb that would cure her of this dreadful nausea! With that thought in mind, Tinpaw managed to hoist herself off of her haunches and onto her paws. The world seemed to spin even more while she was standing, but she kept her eyes and mouth firmly shut to avoid any mishaps. Now walking would be a different matter…