we are unstoppable [blue]

Ah, blasted colds! They did a cat naught any good now, didn't they? Even as he fluffed up his thick pelt against the battering, icy tendrils of dawn wind, somehow the cold still managed to fight through his plumed down, drenching deep beneath pink skin. A dark nose wrinkled in distaste as another sneeze fought for its escape; quickly he turned away, unable to resist its relentless tickle any longer, and his nostrils flared in a loud, enormous, "achoo!"

Scraps of fog danced before his muzzle, its hazy curtain masking his already watery vision. Green eyes glimpsed a shaded form, seeming to materialize from the mist, and in his bog sullen mind he almost thought, Starclan...? Is that you? Huh. With the way he was feeling right now, death would be welcome. But perhaps that was slightly dramatic.

The mist floated in tiny drops to the frost laden earth, sinking deep beneath its icy surface. The form still appeared as a blurry apparition, meshes of grey and white melding and twirling together until the colors bloomed like the opening petals of a rose before his eyes. Something trembled - whether it was he himself, or the strange figure, it certainly sent a nauseating ripple through the bog of his stomach. It was only the eloquent, rich voice of Mistpaw that seemed to ground him firm in what was left of reality. "You don't look so well, Stormfrost. Perhaps I should train with someone else today?"

A crackling snort escaped his craw. Stormfrost blinked hard, once, twice, and finally the figure of his apprentice swam into shape, her aquamarine eyes brimming with concern, and perhaps a slight hint of repulsion. He bared his teeth at the very thought; preposterous, echoed his thoughts, I've never taken a day off once, and my flawless track record certainly won't be broken now! No, such behavior would not do. He'd not at all conform to the...the...useless entity that was his brother Batwing; slacking off, playing pranks, contributing nothing to the well being of the Clan. 

A gray tail swept across the poking muscles of Mistpaw's shoulder. "Nonsense, my child!" Stormfrost was pleased that his voice had settled somewhat, finding a firm foundation to rest upon, though a scratchy undertone prevailed through his quivery notes. "Your mentor is as tough as any cat. The sniffles won't put me out of commission any time soon!" He rose to his paws, tail tip flicking in a decisive signal for her to follow along; "now, now, trust me. You're being trained by the very best here. I know what I'm doing, and I would not push myself past any known limits, should I feel I'd already reached my wits end."

The warrior was just at the edge of camp now. Brushing through the entrance, thorns scraped hard at his pelt, though the pain paled in comparison to the dull, aching throb in his maw. Quickly he pushed the soreness away, directing his focus instead on the brightening horizon, fingers of flaxen light stretched out to touch at the waning blue. He drew in a deep breath, a pang of sharp pain stabbing at his lungs at the motion, though again, he ignored the warning signs his body was so desperately attempting to scream at him. "Come along now, Mistpaw! We've much training to do!"

He took off at a brisk pace, the forest sailing pass in a foggy blur of murky greens and browns. "Is there anything in particular you'd like to learn today?" he meowed, peering just over the frame of his shoulder; "you're doing swell in your training, my dear. So perhaps you'd like to lead the lesson for today." It would also give him some relief, if Mistpaw took charge for a bit, though he dared not voice such weakness.

feeling kinda blue