you're the soul that understands;; open - illness

[trojan g.]

[align=center][div style="bgcolor= black; max-width: 500px; font-family: Times New Roman;font-size:10pt;text-align:justify;"]Sleep.

Alice spent the time she wasn't out in the territory sleeping. Tired, always tired, it was a must for her body to be able to function. She knew she was sick, had known since she was able to comprehend thoughts. Her mother had pulled her aside, and told her that she was sick, and that there wasn't anything her parents could do, but they loved her, and she was strong, and could do anything she put her mind to.

Alice had put that to heart, and had wandered around the territory as much as she could every day before coming home and sleeping. Each day it got to be more. She stepped out and walked around for longer each day, and she thought, just for a moment, she was making herself get better.

She was walking around in the swamp, exploring, curious about what things were, watching the bugs that had come out of the ground due to spring scuttle across the ground. She was happy and content, before suddenly she wasn't.

On the ground, Alice struggled for breath, eyes shut hard as she curled into herself, useless leg splayed out behind her as she lie there trembling, scared, unable to get a word out as she shook. Was this part of the illness she didn't remember or wasn't told about, or was this something else? The small kitten didn't know.

[CAUSTIC.]

Caustic was cursed with his own illness, which only contributed to his budding anxiety and need to escape from this dimension. If the dangers of the wild or his age didn't kill him first, it would be his own lungs. It was never a problem before, medicine was so advanced in the future that Caustic's symptoms were reduced to am occasion cough.
He couldn't expend too much energy, and knew that if his own research for alternative failed him, he would have to see Selby. He wanted to avoid the Sawbone and the other medics as much as possible. Coming to them for aid meant explaining his health issues, and meant someone could blabber about his problems. Such thoughts made Caustic uncomfortable, as they were not held to patient confidentiality.
Most of their kids had been interesting to Caustic. They were rambunctious and playful, Ivan and Winston had potential for something greater. Too bad they were animals, and too bad they would likely die inside the very same borders they were born in.
Caustic is stuffing another unconscious rabbit into his bag to be taken back to his hom- house. His ears perk up as the sound of strangled breathing reaches him, and he turns, taking his bag to investigate. Caustic looks through the underbrush, gas leaking from his mouth from his mouth. Was it prey? a stranger- oh.
Caustic drops his bag, coming to loom over the child, carefully attempting to put his left paw on her back. "Hey, hey, you're alright," The wolf knew he always lost his edge around weak children. It wasn't bad, he just had... certain soft spots for children. Caustic's metal toes are no different in temperature, but they are distinctly harder. "Slow down," he says, trying to get her attention. He does not know what ails her, but he's trying to help. "With me, alright? Let's breathe." Caustic pulls his paw away now, making a motion of pushing and pulling, breathing slwoly and in tune to the movement of his paw.

TAGS • PLAYLIST • PENNED BY OWLIE

THERE'S ONLY ONE WAY OUT

© LEXASPERATED

[wormwood.]

☆ HUNG PICTURES OF PATRON SAINTS UP ON MY WALL TO REMIND ME THAT I AM A FOOL. TELL ME WHERE I CAME FROM, WHAT I WILL ALWAYS BE: JUST A SPOILED LITTLE KID WHO WENT TO CATHOLIC SCHOOL —

Aurum had known of Alice's illness, but only on the most base of levels. It was almost impossible for him not to know, considering how often he found himself around Moth and Selby's house, offering his assistance and company to his sister and her children. He could still remember when he had first seen Alice, a certain sense of worry hitting him as he watched the way his sister had nosed at the girl, a deep anxiety shared between them, and no doubt Selby. The angel knew well what it was like to deal with someone sickly, having watched over Poetking for the majority of his life, and taken care of the other when things had gotten rough. Poet's illness had prevented him from doing a great many things, but even when they were at odds, Aurum had always thought his brother was stronger than he could ever know. Than anyone could ever know, really. Now, the tigon thought the same of Alice. He knew that her life would be difficult – probably more difficult than any of her siblings, save for maybe Simon – but he was sure that she would persevere, especially with parents like Moth and Selby around to guide her.

Unfortunately, he had also known that there would be moments like this. Moments where things crumbled, and where the sickness seemed as though it was winning. These were the bad moments. The ones that made it seem like perhaps one should just stop fighting altogether. The sound of Caustic's voice had been what had first drawn the proxy over, but then the words themselves had made his pace quicken, and his chest tighten. His worst fears were realized when he saw Alice on the ground, struggling for air. He looked at Caustic and gave him a desperate nod, as if begging him to continue on with his instructions, before he turned and took a few step towards town, roaring as loudly as he could manage, "MOTH! SELBY! Alice needs help!" His tone of voice was desperate, although it was hidden beneath a calm veneer, desperate to make sure Alice didn't panic and make things worse for herself. The tigon knew well that calling for his niece's parents was the only thing he could do for now, having never been great at the more medical aspects of providing support, and not wanting to crowd the girl.

[div style="text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: 0px 0px 2px #722227; font-size: 24px;"][color=#c16f78]— AURUM

#psychosocial.

[Ivan]

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He kept fancying that Ivan was absorbed in something — something inward and important — that he was striving toward some goal, perhaps very hard to attain.

— Бра́тья Карама́зовы

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Ivan was startled awake by Aurum's howl for help. A vicious shudder raced through his spine, not quite out of fear, but of anticipation. His heart flopped like a dead fish, it threw itself against the walls within his throat. It felt awful, because rarely did Aurum speak like this. The boy's large ears laid flat against his head as he drew himself out of his sleeping spot.

It did not take long for him to find his uncle, Dr. Caustic, and his dear little sister struggling for breath. Ivan's features froze in utter disbelief. He had known his sister had difficulty getting around, but she never gasped for air like this. He was very reserved and quiet when discussing the physical impairments of his siblings — it was not something he liked to talk about. It wasn't his business, but when his sister is suffering like this ...

Suffering. He hated it. He found it in himself to watch Caustic, Caustic of all people, try to help his sister. Was she dying? He didn't know, but it was all too awful. His claws were digging so deeply into the ground that when he whipped around to run and find his parents, one of his nails broke and Ivan left a trail of scarlet blood behind him. He would not stop running until his found his mother or father.

[alaric g.]

    Alaric had been one of the lucky ones, he supposed. Thus far in his life, the tabby had not been burdened with a life-altering disease, something he was quite thankful for. He'd taken note, however, that many creatures who were similarly undeterred by any conditions, whether it be mental or physical, often took their health for granted. It was also not his place to care about that, nor was it his responsibility to chastise those creatures for their flippancy.

    Presently Alaric was partaking in yet another solo foray into the marsh in search of particularly rare herbs. His efforts were proving to be mostly unsuccessful, not that it really mattered all that much. He had no reason nor desire to harvest the herb, he wanted merely to observe it, as diagrams and hand-drawn sketches only did so much for curious minds such as his.

    As such, the tabby did not miss Caustic's voice, which, at this moment, sounded rather concerned. For what, though? With his interests piqued, Alaric sought out the distant sounds, eventually coming upon a gathering of sorts.

    On the ground was a tiny orange kit who appeared to be struggling for her breath, and gathered near her were Dr. Caustic, Aurum, and the tyke that had been the first to stop him on his way into Tanglewood proper. Upon taking notice of the way the kitten was gasping desperately to fill her lungs, his mind instantly began running through the respiratory diseases that he had studied thus far. Of course, medical training and medical reading were completely different things of two totally different calibers, and so his diagnosis would not mean much compared to that of Moth's or Selby's, who also happened to be the child's parents. He'd choose to bite his tongue in this case, not wanting to offer a remedy that would only make the situation worse.

♔ don't do love, don't do friends