Diagnosed with a developmental disorder at a young age, Duskelle Waterlee has always been special - but not necessarily in a good way. Even at the age of fourteen, she is still unable to truly grasp human ways of life.
Her only relief is River, a st...
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"Exhausted... gone into shock... rain... might... greencough..."
Faint voices filled Duskelle's mind, sounding as if they were coming from far, far away. She tried to open her eyes, but it seemed as if a heavy weight was pulling down her eyelids, refusing to let them part. She struggled a few more moments and finally managed to open them.
For a second, everything was a blurry rush of colors, but then her vision cleared and she saw that she was in the medicine cat den. Her hearing, which she hadn't even realized she'd lost, came back to her, and heard the pitter-patter of heavy raindrops outside at the same time that the scent of fresh herbs and rain stole into her nose.
Three cats were standing in front of her, the cause of the voices. They had fallen silent and were staring at her. Two gray-and-black tabbies, one pale and the other dark, and a dark, gray-coated tom. It took her a moment, but she recognized them. Lilacfeather, Minnowstar, and Graysplash.
Lilacfeather leaned over her. "Duskpaw! You're awake! Can you stand?"
Duskelle tried to speak, but her voice refused to come to her and instead a croak escaped her throat. She tried to push herself to her feet and she almost managed it, but suddenly, a spike of heat and pain shot through her. She cried out and collapsed, her last sight Graysplash rushing over to her before darkness took over once more.
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Her pelt was hot. Burning. Fire. Burning up. Ashes.
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Water. Thirst. Dryness.
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A second of consciousness. Rising. Vomiting. Falling back.
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Cold, brown eyes. Loud voices. Yelling. Accusations.
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You're faking it. You're a liar. You've ruined our lives. I wish you were never born.
---
A kind blue-green gaze. A swish of fur. A warm pelt pressing against her own. A low, comforting voice.
Duskelle pushed her eyes open, her vision bleary. She was in the medicine cat den. How had she gotten there? She lifted her head up and shook it to clear her vision, wincing at the spike of pain that shot through her.
She turned her head to take it her surroundings and realized that another cat was curled up in a corner to the other side of the then. The den was dim - apparently, sundown had already passed - and all she could make out was some shaggy fur, parts of it white and others lost in the shadows.
