LEADER ❝ RHINE ❞ PALMCLAN

( tw for emetophobia : very brief talk of bile / vomiting bc of sickness )

For some time, Rhine had been trying to ignore the sickness that was invading his body. It made him feel so helpless, and so weak, and he hated it. He wasn't supposed to feel pathetic. If he was feeling pathetic, then he was pathetic, and Palmclan didn't deserve a leader like that. They deserved someone strong, and determined, who was able to act even in the worst of circumstances. Rhinestone had thought he had been doing a pretty good job of that, considering the recovery after the hurricane and the boardwalk, but the storm certainly did represent a new challenge. A challenge that left him curled up in his den far more often than usual, struggling to keep his eyes open as he tried to think of what the clan would do next. As the days passed, the sickness was only growing stronger, leaving him almost unable to speak. His throat was scratchy and rough, with his words breaking and mutating as it got worse. Every once in a while he would sneeze, only to hiss from the pain that was brought with it, along with the bile in his throat. All he wished for was that the cold would finally fade, and he would be able to once again focus on the important things.

Today was a particularly bad day, and Rhinestone had known it from the very moment he woke up that morning. He felt oddly numb to everything, still reeling from the very recent loss of Medusa. He was barely able to get out of bed, his entire body feeling heavy as he practically dragging himself out of his den. He had to squint against the light as soon as he stepped out into camp, ears flattening at the nauseous feeling that filled him. It almost seemed insulting, that the sun would still be weakly shining and the camp would still be bustling, when he felt like death was going to come for him – just as it already had Medusa. The thought made him wince, which set off an awful chain reaction, his body cringing and bile once again raising in his throat. He barely managed to stumble out of camp before he heaved, emptying his stomach of what little food he had actually eaten. Thankfully, he managed to catch himself before he could collapse into the mess, shaking his head and whining. His throat was burning, and the world still seemed as though it was spinning and blurred around him.

Eventually, after a moment to stabilize himself, he turned and headed back into camp, unsurprised to see several worried gazes focused upon him. He waved a paw at them, his voice a wreck as he muttered, "Don't... don't worry about me..." Part of him considered going to Vaas, but an even larger part of him was just so tired. His exhaustion won out, motivating him just enough to make his way over to the front of his den. Once he was near, his legs practically collapsed beneath him, chin lightly striking against the ground as he laid there. For now, he just stared blankly ahead, waiting for the abyss of unconsciousness to take him.