Saoirse could barely breathe, the thickness in her throat had been growing worse over the past few days and now it was so bad that she couldn’t even cough, though her chest burned with the need to do so. Laying flat out on her side, ribs jerking up and down in her attempt to draw in oxygen, she didn’t notice when one of the younger healers returned to her, laying a damp poultice over her chest and pushing a shell of strange-smelling water near her muzzle, so she breathed in the itchy vapour with every gasp.

Gradually the tightness started to loose its grip on her, as much as it ever did these days anyway, and she could finally suck in enough air to clear the vague swimming dizziness that had started in her head. Paws tingling she lay quietly for a while, simply breathing in and out in as steady a rhythm as she could manage, knowing that to move to soon would undo the potion’s good effects. Finally she opened her eyes and looked up at the lioness still hovering close by, recognising the lioness’ pale yellow eyes and swirl-marked blue coat as one of her own cubs.

“Eirinn…” She rasped softly, a warm, loving smile curling across her sweat-damped muzzle.

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The younger female smiled in return and moved in closer, laying down next to her mother and nuzzling the pale fur of Saoirse’ shoulder. “Hi mom. Is it helping?” She glanced at the slowly steaming bowl, knowing better than to stick her own nose too close to the wisps of curling moisture coming off its surface. It was a new fusion of potent herbs that seemed to have been able to bring some relief to several of the healer den patients.

At her mother’s faint nod she smiled again, pleased something could help Saorise, as little seemed to these days. For a long moment she simply watched her mother, listening to the elder lioness’ strained breathing. Goddess, she had slid downhill steadily since the last full moon, spending more and more time within the healer dens, lacking the energy to escape outside as she always used to.

Sighing softly, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice she licked her mom’s ear tenderly. “Do you feel up to eating yet?” She asked, struggling to keep the smile on her face and the pain out of her voice. After all, what child wanted to watch their mother fade away before them? Yes, Eirinn knew it was inevitable, she saw death on a daily basis as a healer in a pride of diseased lions, but this was Saoirse, her mother. It was a special kind of pain she felt now.

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Saoirse gave her daughter another small smile, eyes warm and kind and full of understanding. She knew how hard this had to be on her youngest daughter. Eirinn was a kind lioness who tended to try and shoulder all the prides pains on her own. Saoirse hoped she found a mate who could help her carry some of that burden, but she was realistic enough to accept that she probably would never see it happen. Her time was drawing closer every day, the disease progressing though her body a little further each day.

Yet she did not wish to worry her family any more than could be helped so she nodded, lifting her head enough to return Eirinn’s lick to the younger lioness’ cheek. “That would be lovely dear.. thank you.” Settling back, as even that small movement had exhausted her, she let her eyes close as Eirinn moved away to fetch the meat, itself having been sat in more herbs that helped sick lions to keep the meat down.

Once Eirin returned, Saoirse forced herself to roll onto her belly though did not possess the strength to sit, so instead she waited patiently while Eirinn tore the meat with her strong fangs. Handing each mouthful to her mother carefully and giving Saoirse plenty of time between each offering so she didn’t get too breathless again.

Once having eaten as much as she could manage, which was no where near enough for a full grown lioness, Saoirse let her head settle back across her paws, ears drooping slightly with her exhaustion. Eirinn didn’t say anything, just set the meat aside, checked the herb-infused water bowl and settled close against her mother. Soon enough Saoirse was dozing, though her sickness wouldn’t let her sleep deeply it was at least a kind of rest and Eirinn knew it was sorely needed.

Eventually another of the den’s patients required her attention and she was forced to leave her mother for the time being as she returned to her duties, handing out potions, herb-water and other remedies, as well as making sure any lion that could eat, did so. It was a time before the cave fell quiet again, or as quiet as it ever did with the coughs, wheezes and moans of the sickened lions. Finally returning to her mother’s bed she realised there was another visitor. Her half-sister Caoilainn. The big, burly guard was the eldest of Sliabh’s clan and the most like him. Yet even the experienced lioness looked distressed at just how weak Saoirse had become. Turning amber eyes on the young healer, she cleared her throat subtly and asked “How is she doing?” Her voice kept to a whisper to avoid waking the sickened lioness between them.

Eirinn shook her head slightly. “She’s stable but its not good… the disease seems to have progressed further. She’s getting close to the third stage now.” Swallowing round the lump in her throat she turned her head away, trying to hide the tears that threatened. A moment later the warm nose of her aunt nuzzled against her cheek.

“Come, lets take a walk.” Caoilainn’s voice was gentle yet firm, and anyone who knew her would know better than to argue with it. It was the same tone their patriarch used. Obediently Eirinn turned and padded quietly out of the healer den and into the weak evening light. Once outside the two lionesses made their way to where the cubs played, a wide flat space in the center of the pride. A few energetic youths were there, scampering about and Caoilainn watched them with a smile, though her golden eyes still held that sadness, an expression most of the longer-lived lions developed, as if each death took a piece of them with it until they became a hollow shell of themselves, carved with grief. Death was a constant companion, even if you were immune.

Settling down side by side under the stark spread of bare branches, the two lionesses watched the cubs playing. Occasionally one would cough or step away from the game to rest, but even the ill youngsters had more than enough energy for their age. The others, ones less well off, were either with their mothers or in the healer den the two females had just left.

For a long time they simply stayed there, stretched out over the dusty ground, watching the cubs as their number slowly dwindled, and the shadows grew long, stretching across the pride dens like a manifestation of their disease. Eventually Caoilainn broke the silence.

“I’ll be going away for a little while, to patrol the far boarder. But, if your mother takes a turn for the worse, you will send someone out to find me, won’t you?” Emerald eyes met yellow and Eirinn nodded. “Of course.” She replied, turning away so neither of them had to acknowledge the tears threatening them.

The silence descended again, comfortable though filled with sadness, and a sense of inevitability. There was nothing they could do but wait, nothing any of them could do to stop this plague that tormented the pride. Eirin looked back at her aunt, at the deep worry lines etched into the older lioness’ features, visible now in this unguarded moment. It was easy to forget that Caoilainn was quite a bit older than most lions, even though she was in her prime, as so few of them lived so long with the disease, and that extra time had taken a heavy toll on her, as it did on all those lucky, or in Eirinn’s opinion, unlucky enough to be born immune. How did she manage when most of those she had grown up with had passed on already? For that matter, how did Grandfather manage, watching his blood sicken and die while he never so much as caught a cold? She knew if it had been her, she wouldn’t have managed to keep herself together, for as bad as the disease was, you only died once. Sliabh, Caoilainn and the rest of the immune had to watch it time and time and time again.

Shaking her head she leaned over and nuzzled the paler fur under her aunt’s jaw, eyes closing as she shifted closer, curling up against the larger lioness’ bulk. “Thank you.” She whispered softly, pressing closer as if physical touch could heal the ache in both their hearts.

Caoilainn looked down, surprise washing away the sadness in her eyes briefly. “For what?” She asked, voice equally soft as if the twilight around them could carry no louder a sound.

“For staying, for being here with us, for being our strength.” Eirinn replied honestly, not moving from her place tucked up against the other female.

Caoilainn smiled, ducking her head to nuzzle the top of her niece’s smooth ruff. “Of course, we are family.”