Sun Mote Copse There beyond the palisade

SETTING: 
Weather: Clear
cool
Midnight
TERRITORY: Firebirds

TAGS: n/a No tags but im sorry : - )

Gurgle
Gurgle

His tummy rumbles angerly beneath him, and with a slowing awareness the pale boy begins to notice that something doesn't feel right. His body feels too hot—like he sat out in the sun too long, too itchy; Like his skin is stretched tight over his body.

Stumbling away from his snoring mother wish a shove, Primrose mosies his way out of the den, squinting at the bright moonlight before sniffing around and whining. His fur, once shiny and puffy, is now damp with sweat and weighed down as he pants shallowly into the dirt. "Mmm," he whines, turning around screwing his eyes shut as his stomach does little twists and flips. "Maaww," he cries.

He tried to turn back to the den, to head back into his mothers warm embrace where everything would be alright, but as he takes another step the world spins, forcing the small boy to tumble over onto his side with a squeak....

And then he can't stand. He can't find the energy. All he can do is cry loudly in hopes someone hears.

His chest now feels tight, like his siblings have sat on him for too long and Primrose begins to wheeze and breath rapidly against the cold earth, becoming more attuned to the fear creeping up his spine. Did an evil enemy cast a spell on him? Is he going to die?

Where Chanel slept in the rendezvous was not so far off, and when in her dreams she heard the poor distant whine of a child, she knew it was a dream no longer and awoke. The young sitter pulled herself out of the narrow little space she made her home in and resurfaced, blinking sleep from her eyes as she made her way out into the open and moved towards the pitiful sounds. 

As she approached she heard a small thump and the beginning of a cry, and in spite of her tiredness she moved quicker until she was upon the scene, finding poor Prim lying on his side, sweating into the dry earth. Primrose! She can't help but cry, pushing towards him to lean down and nudge at his cheek with her snout, Primrose, dear, can you hear me, darling?

It doesn't take long for someone to find him within his possible grave. Chanel, his baby sitter and love of his life comes to the rescue, her comforting scent washing over him along with the loving touch at his side. He smiles at her, attempting to nuzzle into whatever part of her he can reach.

"Yeah," he mumbles between whines and rapid breaths. "I dont.. i don't know whats wrong, i'm scared Chanel." He cries, reaching a paw out to hook into her fur.

But whatever security and safety Chanel brought with her was soon snuffed out by the loud gurgling within the boy's stomach, and with a groan, he was quick to flop limp on his side to projectile vomit within the general direction, hopefully not hitting the woman.

"I want my mom..." he sniffles and sobs through the mess.

Thank the lord, the boy responds soon in an acknowledgement that he can hear. Her brows tilt upward into a pained expression as he speaks- oh, if only she were a doctor! He reached out to her, but then fell and vomited- and she reminded herself that this was all part of caring for children, and for the sake of being the caregiver, she had to keep her own dinner down. Oh, oh Prim- I'll go- I'll go get your mother. She'll know what to do. Chanel told him, and tried to tell herself too- because she didn't really think the gold woman was a medic. But if the boy wanted his mom, Chanel would hunt her down- and thus scampered to the entrance of the den from which he'd come, nervously calling out a soft @Niamh ? into the darkness where the blonde figure rested.

With a sudden jerk, Niamh went from snoring slumberer to snarling demon, snapping her jaws together threateningly to dispatch whatever it was she'd been chasing in her dreams, before she realized that something had awakened her. She shook her head, blinked her eyes blearily, and licked her lips for a moment, confused. Hadn't she just bitten something? What was it she'd been doing- and- oh...She was awake, now; it must've been a dream. Well, that had been vivid. She would've settled back into sleep had she not inhaled deeply, as though to sigh, when she caught Chanel's scent. 

"Huh?" She called out, pulling herself to her feet and moving toward the den's mouth, where she could see Chanel's features, frightened, peering in. It was the middle of the night- what was she doing here? Demurely, having forgotten her dream as soon as she'd stopped growling, she gave Chanel a friendly nod, and nudged her packmate gently in greeting as she pulled herself from the den. "Oh, hey, what's-" She questioned, before her blurry gaze caught sight of Primrose.

He looked limp and frail, lying on his side like that- and there was vomit on the ground. While she was used to her son being fairly dramatic and expressive, the woebegone expression on his face was much more sincere than what she might've expected from him; something was definitely wrong. "Prim," She said, as she swept to his side. She flitted about him for a moment, sniffing and passing her muzzle across his brow to feel for temperature, noting the spittle at his lips, the feel of his nose, and the short, shallow breaths he was taking. She didn't think to check his vomit for any sign of what might've caused him this agony but bent to lay at his side, and called out for @Eljay.

When the call sounded Eljay wasn't up to much and he happened to be nearby, so he was quick to be on the scene. At first glance it was a mess of wolves -- Niamh, who had called her, Chanel, who Eljay didn't know overly well, and then there was Primrose. It was evident right away that it was Primrose who was in trouble; laying on his side near a puddle of vomit.

Hey Prim, Eljay greeted softly as he approached, a friendly though somewhat nervous smile on his face. What happened? Have you eaten anything different? How are you feeling? He glanced sidelong to the vomit and mentally noted he should check it out later, but for now all his attention was focused on gathering information about the cause of this. Had he eaten anything weird, maybe?

The boy doesn't know how long he's been in the company of Chanel, but soon enough his mom join his side along with Elijay and he doesn't feel so scared anymore.

However, he finds it hard to say anything except flashing a bright and cheery smile before it's crudely interrupted by another vomit session. He hurls and hacks, his body seizing as his stomach now having thrown up all of its contents. All that's left is bile—stinging his lips and throats to the point where a small groan slips from his lips.

"I was playing in the last flower patch," he breathed, reaching up with a paw to lightly touch at his mother's face. "I didn't eat anything, just sniffed around and i-" once more the flower child's words were caught short by another large sounding hack. "I found a new plant and was curious. Am I going to die?" he gasped.

Thankfully, Niamh didn't lash out at Chanel- only followed her readily, and soon the real doctor arrived too, seeming calm to the overly nervous Chanel. She was thankful for his assistance, in spite of the boy's second hurling- and though she knew nothing of the effects of unfamiliar flowers, she cooed Of course not! We'll make sure you'll be just fine, darling. Towards his question of death, which worried her so. That we was really just Eljay though- Chanel and Niamh could provide support to the poor child, but the doctor was the one who knew how to help him best; thus Chanel stepped back and quietly let him do his job, all the while trying to offer Primrose an encouraging, sympathetic little smile if ever he looked up to her.