Sweetcough

   With a sudden gasp followed by several dry coughs and a sniff, IceRipple found himself awake. Despite having spent the whole night sleeping, when he sluggishly opened his eyes he could feel them stinging just as much they usually did when he pulled all nighters. “So much for a good night’s rest.” he thought bitterly as he shut his eyes and curled up in a tight ball. He laid quietly in his nest, growing hot beneath his feathered cloak. The longer he laid there, the more the warmth lulled his mind into a floaty sense of rest. However, it wasn’t long before the brambles of fear started growing, tangling around him, their thorns puncturing any sense of peace he had been previously slipping into. Feeling rattled, he quickly tried getting up though with his body still feeling numb, his left leg gave right under him, his whole body stumbling down, making all the trinkets which adorned his nest rattle. He let out an exasperated sigh as he tried sitting up this time, though a bit slower. He leaned on the nearby den wall, purring at the cool surface while he allowed his body to fully awaken.

   Normally maneuvering through the labyrinth that was the tunnel system of Summit Clan’s dens was easy enough once you got used to it but today as IceRipple emerged from the warriors’ den, he found himself needing to catch his breath. He was also surprised to see the sun already above the horizon. Although it was still early in the morning, it was unusual for him to sleep in to what he considered to be this late. Oftentimes he left camp while the sky was still dark, yet here he was, still in camp out of breath, and squinting at the sun, his eyes dry and irritated. He shook his fur, letting out a large yawn making his eyes water. Although it blurred his vision, it brought a brief soothing sensation to his eyes.

   Struggling through the camp’s thistle barrier located at the entrance, and getting more minor scratches than he would’ve wanted, he finally started his day as a trapper, ruffled up pelt and everything. Not feeling himself quite yet, he slowly lumbered his way down the mountain. However, the weight of his own body seemed heavier with each pawstep he took. The haziness in his mind also seemed to linger. By the time he reached the bottom he already felt winded again and had to sit down. He felt a small yet sharp pain on his stomach. His brow furrowed as he realized he was holding back a grimace of pain. The beat of his heart raced as the fog in his mind began feeling more like lightheadedness. A little wobbly, he simply laid down and dug his head between his front paws, the tip of his nose barely above the ground. His paws pads felt hot and sweaty. Not even the chilly breeze of leaf-fall could cool the prickly heat beneath his pelt. His eyes were shut as he concentrated on his breathing, taking in air from even his mouth to help.

   Motionless, apart from the strained rising and falling of his side, he remained in that spot for a while before he sat up. Even something as simple as that brought a feeling of faintness. He couldn’t say the time he had spent there resting had helped much but he figured perhaps having a drink might. With all the grace of an elder with bones that had seen better days, he started his look for a small stream, even a meager puddle would do if he was honest. His feathered tail dragged on the ground behind. Simply keeping his head high became arduous. It seemed that with each passing heartbeat, he felt worse, and with the muddiness of his mind, he felt as if he were walking underwater. The cool air that had previously felt pleasant, now felt freezing on his ears and although it would not take away the heat of his skin beneath his fur, it still brought about a few shivers.

   He couldn’t tell how long he had been walking but with how much he had struggled, when he found a small brook, he had to rest before he could even take a sip. His small trek had left him feeling thirsty but no matter how much water he drank, his mouth remained dry. He drank until his belly felt full, so full he could feel the water inside swirl around with every small move. The sensation made him nauseous, and what first started as small coughs of discomfort, soon began turning into uncontrollable dry heaves. His body had felt tired and weak but as his stomach tightened, his muscles tensed trying  to keep him from kneeling over. He hardly had enough time between each heave to breathe. The edges of his visions slowly faded into black while the rest blurred as his eyes watered. His throat burned as each constriction seemed to cause a new tear. Before, he could barely get enough water for his dry mouth yet now drool dripped from the sides of his muzzle. In an instant and with little to no resistance from him, all the water he had drank forced its way back up, the bitter taste of bile searing as it passed through his ragged throat. IceRipple gasped for breath, shaking, his claws anchored to the ground. The fur running down his spine was left standing while the pulsating sensation in his head grew stronger. He could hear nothing but the rush of his own blood tempesting in his ears and a terrible high pitch ringing.

   Whatever strength his body had managed to find, quickly disappeared once his muscles relaxed. Collapsing to the ground, IceRipple clamped his mouth shut trying to hold back groans of pain as the sharp pain he had felt before became unbearable. Excruciating ripples rattled through his body. As soon as one dissipated another spread. There he laid too weak to move, whatever consciousness that still remained, focused only on riding out the waves of pain.

   It was only when the sun was beginning to sink once again that IceRipple managed to gather enough strength to begin making his way to camp. Normally he would never consider returning this early but considering how exhausted he felt, he knew it would probably end up taking him quite a while. He did wonder if it would be better just to stay out here; find a small den, a hollow tree, or just hide in some shrubbery. It would certainly be easier than to make the hike back but what would happen if the clan cats noticed he never made it back? Would they just wait for him to return? Would they set out to look for him? Somehow the second possibility bothered him. He would rather head back than risk it. The pain in his abdomen had subsided slightly but each wave still managed to wind him. When his stomach growled, he felt hollow, but the queasy feeling that lingered was enough to remind IceRipple that eating would probably be a bad decision.

   Hobbling back with intermediate breaks along the way, IceRipple managed to reach the camp’s entrance. He frowned at the thistle wall, letting out an exasperated sigh as his head hung. He was running very low on energy. His body felt sore and ached all over. He was so close, and just wanted to lay down. Without much thought, he simply pushed his way through, a couple of thistles caught on his pelt but he didn’t care. This minor discomfort paled in comparison to the pain that had been running through him throughout the day. Making it past the thorny wall, he felt a bit self conscious. He had never returned to camp without anything to add to the fresh-kill pile. He supposed that even now he still had pride in what he did. He glanced at the medicine cat den and hoped no one would notice as he tried to quickly make his way to his own den. Peeking at their direction, he noticed that even now when the sky had grown dark, the medicine cats still seemed busy. He felt relieved. In that moment a flash of red and gray fur flashed in his mind and IceRipple let out a weak laugh. To think he would feel relief at the sight of the medicine cats being so busy tending to their sick clanmates to notice him. A bit of guilt washed over him but as quickly as he could, he made his exit into the warriors’ tunnels.

   Finally reaching his nest he plopped down, his little treasures clinking against each other. Completely drained from any energy and breathing heavily while his heart raced, he felt a small relief for the first time this whole day for having made it back. He felt so tired though, and in another first in a long while, he just wanted to rest. To sleep. However, as he lethargically picked away the thistles that had come along on his fur, throwing them aside as he did, even now he felt hesitant. If he felt tired now, how would he feel tomorrow after a night full of nightmares? He would take this pain any day over paralyzing fear. And yet he was so tired. His eyelids felt heavier each passing heartbeat. As his breathing calmed, it became harder to focus. He could feel his mind beginning to float away. It took him longer each blink to open his eyes again, until he just kept them close. Exhausted, he fought sleep one last time, before finally allowing his mind to drift while his body sank. He could feel a sense of fear beginning to grow but he was so drained, he lost consciousness before it could even reach him. Laying there on his nest paw over the red feathers from his cloak, his mind peacefully faded into a comforting void.