Smokestone's Replies

=== Smokestone's Introduction ===
Smokestone:
Smokestone sat in the clearing. She'd just have gotten back form her duties and went to bask in the clearing. She laid down, limbs spread out, her tail curling over her Frank. She resten her head on her paws which were outstretched in front of her. What a day.. her mind hummed Maybe I should head to the sentinals den...? She stopped to consider, lifting her head to glance over at theden then shook her head, glancing forward, crossing her front paws. I'll wait 'til sundown.
Shellkit: 
She bounced over to the dark Sentinal, sitting down infront of them. "Can you teach me something?" She demanded of the warrior, her knotted, long fur puffed out in an attempt to make herself seem bigger. "I'm big enough to be a warrior!" She squeaked.
Smokestone:
Smokestone shifted her gaze up to meet the kid's gaze. She glanced to the side for a moment then back at the kit and crossed her paws. She nodded reluctantly, her rar spulling back, turning to her sides. The dark she-cat got up, glancing down at the large kit, her tail flcikered. 
Shellkit: 
She gave a chirp of satisfaction, crouching down. "What're you gonna teach me? Hunting? Fighting?" Her thick tail lashed with excitement. "Or maybe- what else do you do again?" She unsheathed and sheathed her tiny claws.
Smokestone:
Smokestone glanced away from the kitchen, padding into the center of the clearing, glancing back at Shell'Kit, gesturing with her tail for Shell'Kit to step forward. Her front paws were placed close together, head high.
Shellkit:
She glanced up at Smokestone, before attempting to mimic her posture. She glanced up at the sky, and in her distraction, darted off to paw at a butterfly. She eventually got bored of the game after a few swipes, returning back to the warrior.
Smokestone:
Smokestone snorted. What a short attention span. she observed. Smokestone sighed, she dazed off for a moment to consider how she'd teach the kit anything. She zoned back in, padding up to the Apprentice, stopping a paw infront of the kit. She then lifted her paw mimicking to bat at the kit,, hoping the kitchen would understand what she meant, though the she-cat had her doubts. She waited for a moment, waiting for the kid's reaction to her vague "request". What am I thinking? This kit wouldn't understand. Too young and flea-brained.
Shellkit:
She watched the dark warrior, before crouching down. She readied herself, before launched herself at the cat and attempting to bat at her paws. She admittedly didn't do too well at this, but she was at least trying. Her green eyes were narrowed in concentration.
Smokestone:
Smokestone did move, allowing Shellkit to swipe at her (If Shellkit was even able to land a swipe on Smokestone). Smokestone then stepped to the side, pinning the kit with just enough pressure to hold her down, at best. Okay, not bad. Smokestone admitted to herself. Smokestone took her paw off the kit, stepping back, her ears leaning back.
Shellkit:
Shellkit let out a protesting squeak as she was pinned. "That wasn't fair!" She argued when the she-cat let her go, and she furiously lashed her little tail from side to side. "Your much heavier than me!"
Smokestone:
Smokestone didn't seem to react, only brushing it off. Smokestone circled the kit, then grabbed the kit by the scruff forcing Shellkit to stand before letting go, glancing down at the kitchen with an expression that read "deal with it or go home". Smokestone refuse to tolerate such behavior, her tail swayibg form side to side slowly as she kept her composure.
Shellkit:
Shellkit gave an annoyed sniff, marching off. She couldn't help feeling a small pang of gratefulness for the Sentinal. She pushed it down, instead replacing it with her growing annoyance at her defeat. She disappeared into the shade of Nursery.
Smokestone: 
Smokestone watched as the kitchen disappeared into the shadows of the nursery then sat down, tail curling around her body, laying nearly over her paws. Smokestone glanced away form the nursery, laying down, her gaze focused on the cloudy sky above. She crossed her front paws, sighing.
=== Smokestone and Decayingbelladonna ===
Smokestone:
Smokestone padded into the den, standing in the entrance way, Turing her head as she glanced around at the interior, slowly and cautiously padding into the den. Her tail laid low, ears pinning back. She stood still near the entrance.
Decayingbelladonna:
Decayingbelladonna had been deep in sleep, drifting helplessly off into her own mind. Her dreams had become rather vivid tonight. Oranges and yellows swirling through forming sunsets that drifted off into an ocean of fears and solemnful uproars. It thundered down, storming violently. Crackling with might force as it put its paws down to the earth. The grass swayed in orchards and plains. The small blades were being chewed by ants in which seemed small to compare. Skidding across the padded dirt that sustained the earth with its warmth. The trees got striked, faltering and slipping under its rough bark. Cracking it open and pulling it apart like a simple twig. All of it came crashing down onto the molly whom stayed in the middle. Of which washing waves crashed down and destroyed all touched. Decaying all stone. Wilting all flowers. A storm swirled with purples and reds. Rushing through every last living things. All decaying away with lifeless bodies. Decayingbelladonna struck in the middle of destruction. The center of attention.
Smokestone: 
Smokestone settled her gaze on the weakly built she-cat laying in a moss bed off to the corner of the den. Smokestone padded forward, toward the sleeping cat. Smokestone stood there for a moment to consider her options; wait for DecayingBelladonna to awaken form her slumber or awake her for her own “selfish” reasons. Eh, maybe I should wait. her mind hummed as she turned and padded back toward the entrance but she stopped. but- she thought as she glanced back at Decayingbelladonna. Smokestone shook her head. Don’t be selfish, you mousebrain. Leave the den, come back later. her mind hissed. She directed her gaze back toward the entrance walking up to it, about to step out.
Decayingbelladonna:
The mollys paws twitched for a moment. crack. Twitching again crackle. And again. CRACK. Her ears twitched forward, zurting her head up with force. Her face soaked with cold sweat, leaving herself frozen. Her paws twitching, and trembling. It still felt like she was in the dream. Like she had been the center of it. She lifted to her paws quickly, shaking her head from side to side. Her vision slurred and blurred by the movement of the dilating iris'. She had been longing for safety, glancing around, looking as if for somecat to clutch onto. To hold. To see it was all okay. But it was false. She was alone. She was utterly alone. Her tail twitched downward, her head jerking to stare at the entrance of the den. Her spiked up fur started to rest down. And her wavered eyes stripped down to spread tears and sadness were clogged. She showed no fear in the moment. Clutching the dirt beneath her paw pads. The molly sat down, her fur laying down peacefully. "Ah.. Hello. Did you need something?" She asked, baring a soft smile. She's worry about it later.
Smokestone:
Smokestone’s ears perked, her right ear turning to face Decayingbelladonna, her head lifting and turning to face the she-cat as well. Her tail dropped down lower, almost touching the ground. Smokestone turned to face the she-cat, dipping her head quickly as a greeting and nodded reluctantly. Smokestone started to feel guilty in a way. Had she awoken to sleeping she-cat? Even if she did, she wouldn’t know what she did that made it happen. She brushed those thoughts aside as she cleared her head to recall what she came to speak to Decayingbelladonna about.
Decayingbelladonna:
Decayingbelladonna looked at her, tilting her head. "Are you alright?" She asked, her tail twitched. She buried all fears and such she had once been engulfed in via her nightmares. Her left ear tilted a bit, awaiting a reply. "Hello-?" She asked, a partial bit of impatience in her tone.
Smokestone:
Smokestone’s face bared a pained expression, her chin lowered toward her neck, head pulled back. She opened her maw keeping it slightly a gap for a moment then closed it. She certainly hoped Decayingbelladonna would catch the hint. If she did it would make things a lot easier on her. Smokestone lifted her chin slightly, glancing down her muzzle at Decayingbelladonna, in no way trying to look menacing or “superior.” In truth, she stood there quite awkwardly, eventually sitting down in front of the she-cat, her tail laying neatly over her paws. Smokestone shuffled her paws, ears nearly flat against her skull.
Decayingbelladonna:
The molly tilted her head a bit. "Oh, if you'd like you can dig out what you'd like to say." Her tail brushed over some dirt, flattening it down so it was a visible surface. She smiled a bit, closing her eyes. Her expression radiating the coming sun she had seen earlier, glimmering like the moonlight that covered her pelt. She looked sift to touch.
Smokestone: 
Smokestone glanced from Decayingbelladonna then down at the smoothened piece of earth. She lifted a paw, unsheathing her claws. In thick, messy lines, she drew a small image of two cats yowling and hissing at each other. One large, muscular one, the other one smaller and lean, with a silhouette that matched Smokestone’s own silhouette. She lifted her paw away form the image, letting it down, a paw steps distance away. She glanced from the image, then at Decayingbelladona. In a way, Smokestone’s unsure, saddened expression resembled that of a hurt kit.
Smokestone sighed, a soft wheezing noise coming of this. He turn her head toward the entrance then turned, padding out of the den. Her head laid low. Maybe father will let me rest today? Not bother me at least? A nap sounds nice after that failure of smoothing “Talk” Smokestone’s mind hissed as she stopped, glancing back at the medicine den then glanced forward once more. Her tail flickered. If he doesn’t leave me alone, I’ll make him. Plus, how am I supposed to have a soothing conversation if I can’t speak anyway? Smokestone placed one paw forward and moved along, away from the medicine den.
=== Smokestone, Ptarmiganquill, and Slothsneeze ===
Slothsneeze:
The pale pink tendrils of dawn were overshadowed by the curtain of clouds sweeping over the gentle sky in rolling waves, snubbing out the sun’s light with a mutiny that was irrefutable. Though morning had set in — small songbirds were warbling sleepily from their perches in the distant treetops to signal the start of a new day — the land was still submerged in darkness, the lingering remnants of night. Slothsneeze had gotten a fitful night of rest. He’d tossed and turned in his nest trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, only to find a persistent ache in his lower back that would shake him awake after periodic moments of respite. A fatigue still lingered in his joints and clouded his mind, though upon hearing a couple other early birds stir awake around him, the young moor-runner decided to give up on the notion of sleep, fluttering open weary eyes to peek out at the mouth of the den he currently resided in. With an internal countdown, the tan furred tom pushed himself up into a sit, honeyed gaze half slitted and thick fur jutting out in all sorts of odd directions from a restless night. Heaving a quiet sigh to himself, the tom began to wrestle down the rebellious locks of tousled fur with his raspy tongue, forcing them to smooth down presentably by his side before peering out into the hazy forest with a squinty expression. A low fog hung over the entirety of Sunlit Prairies, and the air was sticky with humidity. For a moment, the dreary weather nearly deterred Slothsneeze from properly getting up, and the tom briefly contemplated on going back to laying idle in his nest, though a glance at the rather pitiful looking fresh kill pile and the pins and needles that were beginning to prick at his forearms were enough to urge him out of the warmth of his den.
Padding out into the clearing, Slothsneeze’s keen optics perused the area one last time, before he settled on a prompt exit out of the barriers of camp. He would do some hunting to plump up the prey pile.   The walk to the Wildflower Thicket was a serene one, despite the rather foul weather. Aside from a couple bird calls from the faraway treetops, the forests were relatively quiet. Moisture gathered heavily in the air like an invisible blanket, and the strong scent of petrichor invaded Slothsneeze’s senses every time he opened his maw to draw in nearby smells. His mind still seemed to lag behind his actions, though, no matter how much he tried to blink himself awake, and he hoped that once he began hunting such a thing would dissipate and he would feel more like himself again. Pushing past a thick swath of dense foliage, the path he was taking slowly became dotted with violet wildflowers that swished along his ankles, and before he knew it the vast meadow — brimming with vibrant flowers — filled his vision. A gentle smile curled upon his soft features, gaze glowing appreciatively as they took a quick catalogue of the beauty the land had to offer. He was proud, to say the least, that Sunlit Prairies was home to such expansive territories, each more beautiful than the last. Wrinkling his nose, a faint pang of regret poked at his chest. It was too bad he hadn’t been able to show Nepenthe around before she left for the Twoleg place once more. She had seemed so enamored by the fireflies that he had been intent on showing her the nightly beauties of his home, though it had been late and they had settled on sleeping instead. “A pity,” he mumbled out to the gentle hum of the insects and the lofty breeze, before a sharpness overtook his expression, and he prepared for a hunt. 
A young rabbit stood in the forefront of his vision, its long brown ears flopping by its side as it hopped forth and nibbled on the tender shoots of grass between the violet blooms.
While it was more difficult to enter a chase alone, Slothsneeze figured that if he got close enough, his speed would be able to compensate for his lack of company and he would be able to secure the kill. Stalking forward, the dusty tom’s sunflower optics locked onto his target, the young moor-runner hardly making a sound as he crept through the tall grasses, and just as the leveret raised its head to glance at its surroundings Slothsneeze suddenly surged forward, giving the rabbit merely a split second to react and begin running. The chase was on, and with lean muscles pumping Slothsneeze followed closely behind his prey, trying to herd it into an unfavorable position as he slowly began to gain leverage. The rabbit took a sharp turn to run towards the bushes, darting to the side, and Slothsneeze quickly followed suit, his tail flailing wildly to support the sudden change in direction as his claws dug up bits of mud and dirt. He was right on its trail, and he would be able to pounce any second until —
— “Woah!” The sound of a foreign voice startled Slothsneeze from his close pursuit, enough for him to slow down and look up, enough for the leveret to speed up and barrel into safety. In front of him, two feline figures suddenly appeared before him, and the dusty tom let out a small cry of surprise as momentum urged him forward and he skidded to a jarring stop. The tom winced slightly as the force of the action put pressure upon his back legs, though at this point his entire body was aching from exertion and he looked at the ones who had interrupted his hunt with chest heaving. Despite feeling faintly disappointed that he had exerted himself only to allow his prey to slip away, Slothsneeze forced such a thought aside and focused on the cats standing before him, gilded optics amiable as he tipped his head to them cordially in the midst of his panting.
“Sorry, didn’t see you guys there” he breathed, winded, before glancing to where the rabbit had shot away into the hedges. Without letting his gaze linger, he peered once again at his feline company, eyes flitting between the two. “Hmm… Smokestone and… Ptarmiganquill, if I got that correctly? Apologies if not, it’s nice to meet you guys” The tan-furred youth shot both cats a light grin, tail swishing lightly by his ankles.
Smokestone:
Smokestone sniffed the fragrant blooms around her, lifting her head, glancing from Ptarmiganquill as he exclaimed, then in the direction of the racing moor-runner. She froze, ears pinning back, tail low. She took a couple paw steps back just before the young cat came to a stop. She lowered her chin, narrowing them at the moor-runner. She didn’t necessarily “respond” to Slothsneeze as the tom mentioned her name. She glanced between the two toms, her tail swayed slowly from side to side, her ears still pinned. She didn’t seem pleased to be charged at, portrayed well by her seemingly unamused expression.
Ptarmiganquill:
The tom stumbled, not much, but his back paw hit a small rock hidden amongst the flowers and toppled the Tom backward onto his back, his belly exposed. He fell right onto some mud that was coughed up by the stream not too far away. His gorgeous cream-white and dark browns got corrupted by the awful look of dark, thick, musty-brown mud. He lifted to his paws and shook his fur, but the mud stuck to it like a kit to its mother's foreleg. He lifted one of his paws, the ugly sludge dripping from it down into more of it. There wasn't a huge amount present since the stream was smaller, but just a spot made him furious. He glared at Slothsneeze, his pupils dilated into icy slits as the Tom's expression was clear to read of rage. "How dare you? Don't you know how impolite it is to not only knock a cat down, but to dirty their luscious coat!" The tom snapped at him. Completely disregarding Smokestone's appearance in the conversation there.
Slothsneeze:
His abrupt intrusion had not been received lightly. Slothsneeze could immediately tell from the unamused scowl directed to him from Smokestone’s jaded countenance, in time with the sharp protests of Ptarmiganquill, clearly expressed the pair’s overwhelming displeasure regarding his unannounced interruption. Sensing the tension crackling in the muggy air, Slothsneeze felt the faint urge to frown and push back against the harsh accusations that Ptarmiganquill was trying to throw upon his shoulders, though seeing the flaming bolts of heated anger jolting through the latter tom’s cerulean gaze, he quickly thought against it, smoothing his expression into a good-natured smile instead as he inclined his head apologetically. “Ah, sincerest condolences. I didn’t quite mean to barrel into you two in such a sporadic manner; typically when making first impressions I would choose a much… tamer… approach, of course.” The cadence of his speech was kept lofty and polite, a hint of humor underlying his words as to dispel the uncomfortable static that crackled in the air between the three. Glancing between the muddied tom and the icy she-cat, Slothsneeze took the time to better study their countenances, hoping that they would accept his gracious apology, though secretly in his humble opinion he had simply made an honest mistake that didn’t require such a severe reaction. His thoughts trailed back to the leveret that had escaped his grasp, and pursing his lips as a mournful expression unfurled on his face, the umber-furred tom let out a dramatic sigh, shoulders sagging with the act. “Alas, here I am, and my catch has unfortunately escaped me.”
The disappointed expression resting on his features only lasted a couple seconds, though, as in the next moment he was back to that easy-going smile, peering at the two Sunlit Prairie cats in mild curiosity and concern after muttering a “I’ll catch something next time,” and dismissing his failed hunt. 
Letting out a small hum, the thick-furred tom flicked an ear as he pushed the conversation forward, “Well, I wasn’t deigned a response on the names, but may I ask what the two of you are out on this fine, lovely day?” As he spoke, he made a point to glance upward at the sky, where in fact it was grey and dreadfully overcast, the low fog shrouding the area in a veil of gloomy mystery. Upon doing so, the tom paused in his speech, acting as though he had just noticed the rather poor weather conditions. “Hm. I suppose it wasn’t to catch some sun.” Gaze glittering in faint amusement, Slothsneeze shifted on his paws, fluffing out his fur in the humid air as he slowly eased into a stretch to help out his sore muscles. “It’s still quite early, so I didn’t expect to see any other cats while I was hunting. Quite the coincidence. Ah, I suppose I should say sorry once more— I apologize.” 
Turning his cranium to survey Ptarmiganquill’s ruined coat, Slothsneeze tilted his head to the side, his apology reflecting in the faintly rueful glint sparking in his honeyed gaze. “Well, who knows? Mud could be the new fashion trend. Keeps the coat cool and also adds fantastic highlights.” Lips curling into a wry grin, he scrunched his nose at the latter’s rather dry expression, before letting out a faint laugh and then adding sincerely, “Perhaps you could wash that mud out, the streams are rather clean since the water is constantly running, so all the dirt could be combed from your fur quite easily.” To emphasize his point, the tom raised one smoky paw toward the thick grasses.
On first glance, it would have seemed as though he had pointed to just a large outcrop of leaves and grass, though upon closer inspection the small streams could just be made out between the thick greenery and the swaying reeds.
Ptarmiganquill: 
He frowned, waving his paw, the mud splattering onto the ground. He hated getting dirty, even when he had a fresh sink to wash off in, he hated it. Any form of dirt or water touching his soft, fluffy coat made him gag. How ugly it made him look. The tom's eyes glanced at Sloth. "You cats really would just go hop into the river hm? You're benevolent soul being lost into the riverbeds of sorrow your clan brings. Like filthy peasants. You really want me to go and jump in there like a kit?" He scoffed. "How uncultured." The tom's tail pricked upward, avoiding the mud beneath him. "No wonder you cat's stink. You roll around in your own filth like the wild animals you are." His eyes rolled, he was waving his front paws to get off the mud he could. Feeling nausea as the dirty, diseased stuff every touched his pelt in the first place. It made his whole body shiver to think of all the parasites that lurked in it, that could creep underneath his pelt and touch his mind like a rotten infection. Spread like anxiety and shockwaves through him. Paralyze the tom with the undying urge of fear. How many worms and creepy crawlers lurked beneath. He stuck out his tongue to himself at the icky thought. At Sloth's reply and comment about the mud, the tom glared at the other feline. "You're con comme un balai." He snarred at the tom. "No ounce of Futé ever lingers in your brain does it you fou feline." Ptargimanquill hissed at Slothsneeze's inability to be intelligent.
Smokestone:
Smokestone huffed at Ptarmiganquill's remarks. She glanced away from both toms. It was frustrating she couldn't speak. Unabke to snap at Ptarmiganquill and his unbearable behavior. What a unbearable Tom. her mind hissed. She sat down, her tail laying neatly over her paws. Smokestone glanced back over at the toms.
Slothsneeze:
It turned out that the two cats before him really did not tolerate any sort of conversational questioning, as Slothsneeze found his second question once again deflected in Smokestone’s cold silence and Ptarmiganquill’s inconsolable rage. While Smokestone chose to sit this one out, the lanky feline’s amber gaze holding a keen disinterest, Ptarmiganquill, on the other hand, was preoccupied in his fit of anger. The smoky furred birman flailed his paws animatedly as he snapped at Slothsneeze in a flurry of ire, the scowl on his countenance transforming his normally soft features into something much uglier. While Slothsneeze could imagine how delicate the fluffy tom would have looked with a smile, the image was currently sullied by his endless yelling. Ptarmiganquill’s sharp mew began to die down, though there were a couple phrases in his speech that Slothsneeze couldn’t quite decipher. Nonetheless, taking in the grey-coated tom’s harsh tone and his scathing words, it didn’t take Slothsneeze much to deduce that whatever was spoken had most definitely been an unflattering rebuke toward the umber youth. 
Slothsneeze was rather taken aback by the sheer hostility in Ptarmiganquill’s voice; no matter the unconventional nature of his intrusion, he hadn’t thought it was warrant such an aggressive display from the latter. For the first couple moments, his disbelief was evident through a series of speechless blinks. It was rare, seeing the normally eloquent tom lost for words. Though, here he was, gaping at Ptarmiganquill incredulously with confusion warring in those sunflower optics.
A pinch of annoyance poked his chest — Ptarmiganquill was indeed one of those over-the-top felines with a flair for drama — though no sort of rebuking animosity bled into his features, which were quickly schooled into neutrality after Slothsneeze finally processed the latter’s barrage of insults. In fact, instead of arguing back, that small smile reappeared on his features, and he inclined his head a fraction as he conceded in a laughing voice, “As you say, so it must be.” There was no real heat behind his words — the last thing the tan feline was looking to do was start any conflict — and he was already tired of the older tom’s boundless anger. The birman’s loud voice had begun to cause a small headache forming at the base of Slothsneeze’s skull, and he was already quite disappointed from his lost catch paired with the soreness felt across his entire body. Though, despite his laid-back disposition, Slothsneeze was no pushover, and pursing his lips, the tom’s gaze drifted out to view the surrounding meadow where the fog weaved its way among the shifting grasses and vibrant blooms. “But I assume you’d much prefer your mud coating over bit of water?” His voice drifted over the serene quiet the same time his attention returned to Ptarmiganquill, and those gilded optics slid back to the dirtied tom with a hint of nonchalant bemusement. “And you are a ‘wild animal’ now as well? You’ve sworn your loyalty to Sunlit Prairies and Dawnstar, no?” Cocking his head to the side, a questioning look present on his features, the tom held Ptarmiganquill’s furious blue optics with his own equable golden ones before he glanced over instead toward where Smokestone sat a couple lengths away. While she carried an air of unfriendly disdain, Slothsneeze didn’t seem too bothered by it; instead, his keen gaze swept over her posture before he offered her a smile, having picked up on the brief annoyance flashing through her typically disinterested front.
“See? You’re even bothering Smokestone.”
Smokestone:
Smokestone's ears perked. She shifted her gaze toward Slothsneeze, seeming more surprised than anything. She wasn't used to being brought up in a conversation as she had little to provide in one. She lifted her head a bit, lowering her chest. She tilted her head slightly to the right, her tail curling tightly around her paws. She carried her gaze between the two toms, before she sat up properly, her tail uncurling form around her body. She still seemed slightly bothered by Ptarmiganquill's over-the-top behavior, but she seemed distracted from it.
=== Smokestone and Windsear ===
Smokestone:
Smokestone’s nose wrinkled as he avoided contact with the marigolds around her. She wondered, why of all places, Windseer choose this area. She heard there wasn’t much prey here anyway. She didn’t bother to ask though. She knew the tom knew more about the prey in this territory better than she did, or ever would. Her tail curled around her right flank, as she continued to follow Windseer, who was a few paw steps a head of her. She turned her gaze back toward the tom, stopping in her tracks in a small, clear area. Smokestone soon came to regret “volunteering” for this task. Her tail lowered form her flank to her ankles, her ears pinning back. Her yellow eyes squinted as the sun shun brightly in the sky, relief only arriving as a clouds drifted slowly, blocking a good portion of the sun’s rays. She relaxed her eyes, keeping her gaze fixated on the moor-runner.
Windsear:
Ahead padded a sturdy tom, one with length in the greatest of places, and the sleekest of pelts. Windsear was his name, of course. Every cat knew him. He was the greatest hunter well, since Dawnstar was promoted to queen cat and the rest dispersed on their own accord... Yet that still meant he was top now, and that met something. Windsear puffed out his chest, his whiskers twitching as he sucked in the cool wind, his muzzle flexed against the breeze, puffing as he rejected it. Silkstar it's cold! 
"Brr!" The slender rust tom shook out his thin pelt, his lean frame trembling and his tail shuttering. He curled his claws into the ground and shuttered back into frame, before whirling around to face his companion, his expression bright despite the conditions. "Hey, when did it get so cold out?" He shook where he stood, purring. He padded back closer to her, shrinking beneath his pelt as he fell in tune beside her, his tail twitching curiously.
"The wind is really strong here today- Any idea why?" The tom blinked at her curiously, his gaze dancing in his head. His paws pumped along, and he seemed excited and bubbly. Each move he made was clean, his paws moving playfully as he spun on his paws, bouncing on his steps and rocking back and forth. He moved away from her each time, respecting her space while he moved between walking ahead and slowing to meet her again, before he seemed to feel the need to burn his energy.
He was almost fizzing over by the time they'd reached the top of the hill, bouncing on his pads excitedly before he broke into a sudden run, his legs stretching far and his tail streaming out behind him. The dark red pelt against the bright yellow flowers, though dappled with grey night-light, looked like a streak of fire. The black fur that ticked from his tail-tip to his forehead like ash. His paws pounded the moors so quickly he was hardly touching the ground, his breath streaming alongside his plastered whiskers. As fast as he'd gone straight he seemed to spin right back around, doing a quick lap up and down the hill at the speed of a hare, his breath coming in huffs as he slowed to a trot just before padding back to the molly. He greeted her again with a wave of his tail, his smile wide. "Sorry, I felt like I was in camp all day. I usually run off my energy but I wanted to wait for another cat to do a patrol." He purred, quickly falling back into step this time without bouncing about in his pelt.
Smokestone:
Smokestone watched as the tom raced around the field, turning her head to follow his movements. She sighed silently, the tip of her tail curling upward. She returned the Tom’s smile with her own awkward looking smile. She didn’t seem too bothered by the Tom’s energetic personality. She found it quite amusing in a way. She usually surrounded herself with calmer, like-minded cats so to be around someone who she conserved different from herself, it was refreshing. She sat down, her tail laying over her paws, her ears perked.
Windsear:
Windsear padded alongside the sleek black tabby silently from that point on, his mouth held ajar as he halted every few paces to taste the air for any sign of prey. He blinked at the molly gratefully, he was glad to have her present. If anything it made him feel less lonely, though he'd only ever thought to call upon company when he felt the need of protection above all else. He had no desire to interrupt a cat if they wished to spend the day in camp, and he definitely didn't want to give anyone the wrong idea by inviting them out. Afterall, it's hard picking any clan mates to take out without them taking it the wrong way. He couldn't help but find comfort in the interaction he'd had yesterday with Dancingwhisper, a pretty fellow Moor-Runner and a striking cat, to say the least. He had been thinking about her since he'd came back to camp, and in his sleep he padded after her, much like he wished to do now. I want to hunt with her eventually. He smiled at the idea, a purr shivering in his throat.
He halted, and stayed as such after a brief heartbeat. Tasting the air, his whiskers fizzled excitedly.
There was a small rabbit ahead, a young one, and it had yet to spot the creeping cats. He nodded to Smokestone, swishing his thin tail towards the borders of the territory, his whiskers twitched.
"Found one. Go on up ahead and check the border, I'll meet you near the trees." He nodded towards them, his ears twitching with dismissal. Quietly, the tom fell into a crouch, padding slowly as he scoped out the landscape, searching for any hidden burrows the prey would vanish into. He flicked his tail crossly, curling it right against his rippling flank as he moved stealthily. He spotted not far off the burrow it must've come from, though the hare was too far out to rush back if he gave chase at the right angle. His heart thumping in his chest, he forced his pelt to lie still, his maw watering from the excitement.
Once he'd been in position long enough, only a tail-length away now, he crept closer. He pounced as soon as the hare rose its head, seemingly distracted by his scent, which must've drifted towards it with the change of wind. His heart froze in his chest as it looked directly at him before it took off, its tiny white tail against its pale brown back as it sped away. Windsear let out an eager yowl, keeping up with it with a massive pounce, followed immediately in chase. He swerved this way and that, and had to leap over a bundle of roots placed perfectly to trip him, his red pelt singed by the sunlight that trickled through the clouds.
His paws barely touched Earth and his pelt looked slick against his back as he ran alongside the rushing wind, his breath coming in heavy gasps. He took in a heavy one to yowl again, the sound splitting the thin hair in his ears and shocking the rabbit to change direction, running directly to where Smokestone was padding. As quick as a snake he made contact with it, his paws trambling yellow petals and spraying them in his wake, his hind legs kicked them free of their stems. He'd managed to cut it off from the side, and with a final quick leap he landed squarely on top of it, using his paws he snapped it's neck, purring with joy as it fell limp at his paws. He bowed his head low, tucking his muzzle against the hare's head while he muttered his thanks to Silkstar, before retrieving his prey, he padded the final stretch of distance towards Smokestone so that she too could admire his catch.
He dropped it at her paws, bowing his head to her respectfully and drawing a lap through his chest fur. "Here, nice catch, isn't it?"
Smokestone:
Smokestone nodded, padding to the side, making her way toward the border, her tail swaying at her ankles. She unsheathed her claws, as she carefully paced around the border, her eyes narrow. She paused as she noticed the tom come closer once more. She turned to face him, sheathing her claws. She shifted her gaze to what the tom had caught, sniffing it as it was dropped at her paws. She glanced up form the motionless piece of prey, at the tom, nodding with a gentle smile.
=== Smokestone's Death ===
Petalpaw:
"To battle!"
The final remnants of the older tom's call was all Petalpaw had picked up on. Her pelt prickled uncomfortably, her pale eyes widening with shock. What was going on? Battle? Why? Her pelt prickled uneasily. She'd heard Carrionsaunter return with the remainder of his patrol, Peachpurr had padded into camp with Shallowshrine practically dragging himself behind her, she'd barely had time to ask how the trip had went before Peachpurr was off again. Tauntingtear had stayed with her, waiting patiently and attempting to catch a word or two as well, but now the tom stood rigid, his jaws clamped tightly shut and his dark gaze sharp. Ears pricked and alert, the massive deputy was on his paws immediately, making haste in addressing the threat. Petalpaw wavered, rubbing her paws against the edge of her nest as she blinked around hopefully for Peachpurr. She was needed out there now, surely Peachpurr would let her out to fight? She flicked her ears, pale eyes glassy as she shifted forward. She needed to fight- he called for Sentinels, afterall. This was her job. Injury or not, I'm not missing a chance to fight! Her claws itched excitedly as she slipped from the bushy cover of the medicine den.
Her pelt spiked in alarm at the sight of Blizzardclaw, who had been defending the camp entrance. The tom's fur was bristled unnaturally for such an old tom, and his eyes were radiant and horrified. He was blinking at Acacialight, who was cowering at the entrance, with a face full of screwed up confusion and fury. Petalpaw barely stopped in time to avoid slamming head-first into Tauntingtear's haunches.
Crouching down beside him, Petalpaw took in the view. Cats had leapt to their paws, fur spiked out in alarm. Most cats had been sheltering in their nest or under shelter in camp, she could feel the warmth of the dens around them radiating through the clearing. Frigid raindrops splattered her pelt, forcing her to flinch back towards the shelter of her mentor, nearly tucking herself under his legs to avoid the onslaught of weather. She felt the worst for Acacialight, who unlike the rest of the clan who were all still warm and fluffy, looked rather slick like a wet squirrel that drowned in the crick. Her eyes were almost white in pigment, her belly coiled at the unmistakable terror that flooded them, grief clung to her pelt like a cool mist as well.
"Dawnstar..." Acacialight's voice sounded far away, Petalpaw had to prick her ears to pick up on the sound. The molly's voice faltered, and she uttered a sound that reminded her of choking between breaths, she could see her shuttering even from across camp. "Dawnstar needs help." She croaked out, her muzzle twitching. Petalpaw's face screwed up, she felt a numbness beginning to clog her pelt. The first thought that crossed her mind was that she must be dead. Why else would she...? Petalpaw tried to shake the thought, but she couldn't help but assume the worst. She was always expecting it, always prepared for some horrible news, or at least she thought so. Now that she stared at Acacialight, she could almost feel the numbing weight of the Bengal's emotions clinging to her. Her belly churned uncomfortably, and she shot Tauntingtear a look through horrified pale blue eyes. She was the first to start forward towards the pale brown molly, her ears flattened as she crept closer. She wanted to be one of the cats to help, it was the least she could do for Dawnstar.
Maybe... Maybe she's hurt? If Petalpaw got there fast enough, maybe she could save her. Surely Silkstar wouldn't condone two cats dying on the same day, right?
Yet her thoughts were replied to by the most sickening sound Petalpaw had ever heard. There was a horrible stomping overhead, and a scent seemed to swell over the horizon, creeping into camp and choking Petalpaw immediately. Her pelt bristled in terror, her claws flexed from their sheaths. Badger! Badger! Petalpaw's pelt bushed out wildly and she dropped immediately into a defensive crouch. What was a badger's scent doing so close to camp? I thought there weren't any badgers left in our territory! Her heart thrummed in her chest. Blizzardclaw was already standing in attack position with his pelt bushed out around him like a white fire. Shatteredrose teetered from her nest, but upon tasting the air she sprung into action alongside the tom, she noticed Carrionsaunter flexing and standing beside where Sharpsun's body lay, his black tail- which was still somewhat cloaked with mud from his earlier adventure- was cloaked over him protectively. He drew his lips back in an ugly, toothy snarl, his ears pinned back tight against his head. Smokestone scrambled up from where she'd been sheltering, Petalpaw jerked from her path as she rose to stand in line with the rest of the clan.
Thank Silkstar our Sentinels and Tunnelers are here. For what it was, most of the cats who had been working tirelessly throughout the day collected in ready, their pelts bushed out and their gazes solid against the pelting rain.
Petalpaw flipped her gaze towards the nursery where she heard a small shriek, her whiskers prickling. She raced over quickly, thankful to tuck away into a den as she scrambled quickly to meet the little kit. It was Velvetkit, she could see her from the entrance of the den in her nest beside Azaleanectar, her pelt was bushed out wildly and she was crying loudly, her small meals heart-wrenching. Light filtered in from a gap in the wall, and Petalpaw only imagined the terror the little kit must feel upon seeing the looming threat inching towards camp. Petalpaw let out the trill of a Queen, and in an instant Velvetkit snapped around and was racing into her paws.
"Petalpaw! Petalpaw! I saw a big old ugly dog coming to eat us!" She cried, her eyes dripping with heavy, salty tears. "I-I saw it up there! It's coming right towards us!" Velvetkit was frantic now, her pelt prickling wildly and her tears dripping down her tiny cheeks in streaks of soaking motion. Petalpaw dipped her muzzle to grip up Velvetkit by the scruff, her ears flicked back against her skull as she scanned the nursery. Pansykit was stirring now, surely from Velvetkit's initial outburst, and was mewling at the lack of warmth at his side. Ceciliazeal however was up and out of her nest already, her pelt prickling and her gaze determined as she padded towards the entrance. Jerking her muzzle towards the remainder of the Queens, the silver tabby barked orders as Velvetkit tucked into Petalpaw's warm belly fur.
"Keep the kits in the very back of the den! If you need to escape, take shelter in the Tunneler's den!" Her pale green eyes narrowed to slits as she glanced at Petalpaw, who crouched low now. "Defend the Queens, whatever it takes. We have too many kits, trying to move every single one of them could be dangerous."
Petalpaw blinked. Yeah, this isn't my first paw in defense. She flicked her tail crossly as the molly jerked away without waiting for a reply. Petalpaw lapped Velvetkit gently between the ears, using a white-toed paw to wipe away tears that clustered at the edge of her gaze.
"Are we gonna die?" Velvetkit mewled softly. Petalpaw's eyes glistened, her heart stung at the defeat in the little cat's voice. 
"Oh, Velvetkit. Of course not." She leaned in close to rub her cheek against the little black kit's own. "Not if I have any say in it." She seemed a little better after that, but Petalpaw could still sense her terror as if she were mewling about it. She leaned her muzzle close, her whiskers tickling the little kit's ears. "We're gonna play a little game in here. Okay? It's called 'hide from the white stripes.'" Petalpaw cringed internally, but she tried not to let her face show it. Velvetkit was horrified, perhaps if she made this seem more fun than traumatic, than perhaps Petalpaw could save her some grief. Velvetkit looked up at her now with wide, curious eyes, her tears seemed to lessen at the prospect.
"A game?" Velvetkit blinked at her imploringly. "But there's a big dog outside, it's gonna come eat us."
"Not if you play the game right it won't." She took note of the tortoiseshell Queens behind the little kit beginning to collect their litters between them, they crouched over as many as they could fit under them protectively, sealing them from sight and shielding them with their pelts. Little Cottonkit and Pansykit were left out between them, but the two were still clung close to the Queens with wide eyes, their pelts were bushed out until they were twice their original size. Petalpaw dipped her muzzle, glancing back down at Velvetkit.
"You're gonna find the best hiding place in the nursery. If you see a big stinky white stripe, you need to hide even better. If you can see the stripes, then it can see you." She dipped her muzzle close. "I will be your Sentinel, and you will be the sneaky Tracker I'm defending. Doesn't that sound fun?" Petalpaw had made everything up on the spot, but she hoped it at least worked. Velvetkit, who had been trembling before, had stopped weeping and was kneading the ground, albeit nervously.
"Will hiding keep me safe?" She asked softly. Petalpaw nodded, her gaze fixed.
"Hiding is safer than if you were to panic and try to run from the nursery." She meowed, dipping her head. Velvetkit eventually nodded, giving Petalpaw a determined blink through dark hazel eyes as she drew herself back to full height. Petalpaw couldn't help but smile, even despite the horrid circumstances. She's more mature than I thought. Most kits didn't listen to reason or understand even the most basic parts of keeping out of danger. It wasn't their fault of course, but it hurt on occasion to be too curious. She was glad that Velvetkit not only listened but understood, and asked questions when necessary, it was impressive for a kit only two moons old. She knew from experience a bright kit only ever grew into the best of warrior. She nodded pridefully as Velvetkit padded towards the Queens, sniffing around them before she found a space in the next they crouched in, and before long she'd wriggled in and completely vanished from sight. Petalpaw spun around, using the length of her body to entirely block the den entrance and bushing out her fur to block all sight from within, her claws unsheathed as she arched her back in preperation to defend.
Acacialight:
Acacialight had barely been given the time to catch her breath before she was hurtled aside by Skyrose, who thrust her back with strong shoulders. Acacialight landed somewhere soft, crashing against the mental medicine cat and recoiling for what wasn't the first time that day. The maiden, confused, had scrambled up until she could turn, her eyes widening in stark dismay at the creature that now ripped it's way through the entrance. Her belly dropped like a stone once more, her throat felt like it was closing as she watched it's massive black claws striking at the overgrowth, it destroyed what little defense the clan seemed to have remaining within a wink of time. Fresh pain was inviting itself into her as she caught sight of the new wound that was gaping open from it's eye, the last solid blow Dawnstar had managed to deliver before she was killed. She felt her paws grow numb, and she bushed up her fur wildly. She hadn't meant to lead it straight back to camp. She felt her body cramping in horrific misery as she watched Skyrose"s head barely missing being taken off by a blow, with Shatteredrose leaping to cling to the back of the beast. Her belly knotted harder as more cats raced forward, Carrionsaunter began to rake at it's belly while Smokestone bit down hard on it's hind legs.
She watched as the bulging belly of Ceciliazeal hurtled past her, and she watched in awe and silent dismay as the active, expecting Queen thrust herself into the thick of the battle, her claws slicing with such vigor that she sprayed the Earth with scarlet. For just a moment it looked like everything might be okay.
Acacialight had backed away until she huddled close to the medicine den, where she watched alongside Silvershrine- who she hadn't noticed pad up beside her from within the den- as Blizzardclaw practically mimicked the same attack Dawnstar had tried earlier. Just watching any cat prepare themselves directly infront of the badger's snout was reawakening fresh waves of grief inside her. She wanted to let out a screech of warning, a pleading wail to maybe change the outcome. She lost what hope she had when the badger jerked to meet Blizzardclaw, and after head-butting him in the belly, it raced with him still pressed to it's face before it slammed him between it and the high-stone which rattled free pebbles that showered over the tom as his body snapped and crunched. The maiden felt cold, as if she might faint. He fell limp within a heart-beat, all the fury that had been locked in the depths of his thick body all escaping out in his dying screech that was forced out of him. His body cracked so loud that Acacialight thought she may be sick, it sounded like a cat chewing prey-bones. She dug her claws into the sandy hollow, her pale, honey-shade eyes turning pale like chips of ice as she watched the beast toss the tom out of it's way as if he had been nothing. Acacialight had to widen her tongue in her muzzle to keep herself from gagging. Stop! Stop!
None of this had been supposed to happen! Dawnstar was dead, and now Blizzardclaw? She noticed a brown tabby tom she didn't know that well laying in the center of the clearing as well. When had he died, was it also because of the badger? Acacialight felt faint, it took everything in her to stay upright, she fought to keep her paws from buckling underneath her. Dawnstar, their only hope, was out there probably being washed of her spots on the moors while her clan was destroyed only a few territories away. What were they supposed to do? She was preparing herself to aim a blow or two, but she was caught up when she noticed another cat seemingly not realizing the severity.
She let out a shriek alongside Decayingbelladonna the second she saw the frail apprentice begin to teeter on hind-legs, the extent of her training clear in how she wobbled unnaturally, her fore-paws were splayed out with little direction, it was as if she was just seeing a leap like Blizzardclaw's for the first time, and for whatever reason she thought now was the time to practice it. Her heart thudded until it numbed as she was smacked by a heavy black paw directly in her head. The apprentice landed with a weak thud, her body too light to shake the floor, or make any lasting embed into the sandy hollow. Acacialight actually did have to swallow bile as she watched the badger begin to maul the little cat, it's sharp teeth stained red and the sandy floor splattered with scarlet, the extent of which spraying stone, cats who were nearest, as well as dripping down from a few of the dens. The Elder's den was crushed, and the high-ledge now shifted at a slight angle, the space where Blizzardclaw had been crushed was painted dark-red. 
Acacialight felt a horror in her body racking her like no other. Bodies flew like fur through the air and cats died infront of her in less than heart-beats.
This was just like how the coyotes had been, ruthless as they mauled cats without a second thought of the pain they were causing, the trouble it brought them to clean up after them, as well as just how important some lives they took were. It was starting to become clear to the maiden that these vicious creatures really had little sense of right from wrong. This beast was killing her clanmates- it killed her mother just for the sport of it. It didn't use her body for prey, it didn't use any cat's body for any purpose. It killed for fun, and from the frenzied glint in it's eye Acacialight knew it wasn't done. The Bengal, despite the terror that destroyed any fiber of her confidence, was beginning to bristle again. She felt the waves of hot vengeance collecting, and within moments she'd strengthened her resolve. Dawnstar's body should be back resting among her clanmates, she should be here, alive, she shouldn't have died at all. If her clanmates fell like flies, she'd just have to try and make up for what they were missing. She couldn't feel the rain anymore, nor could she feel the sandy floor as she raced to the badger's side with her long tail streaming behind her. Was that Dawnstar's blood staining it's snout? The idea brought new strength to her, and with a frenzied screech she began to slice at the badger's belly alongside Carrionsaunter, falling in beside him and following his lead as he aimed blow after blow at the creature. It seemed too content with Sagepaw now to react, giving time for Carrionsaunter's sharp claws to tear open fresh slits in the side of the beast, while Acacialight only cleared fur from his path.
Petalpaw:
The battle raged on with a blatant violence that Petalpaw was more than accustomed to. Sure, she hadn't seen a cat die so violently right before her eyes, but she was used to the thrill and bitter chill of battle, she understood the intensity of the situation and everything that was held on the line. Taking a back seat is the last thing Petalpaw would normally choose to do, instead stepping back and defending the nursery rather than being in the front-line of battle, but with the magnitude of her injury she'd supposed she'd make do. She was almost on her knees kissing the ground after what she'd been forced to witness next. She'd bunched her body into a solid brick of form, her stance solid and her pelt bristling out so far that she blocked the entrance. As soon as the badger tore it's way through, it's single eye was glazed with opportunity. Petalpaw felt cornered despite having the option to race into the nursery, to hide and wail like a scared kit. This thing was massive and all that the cats seemed to look like to it was measly prey. She wondered momentarily as it's sharp gaze swept over her if it may see them as mice, a full nest of a colony that it's sending scrambling around it. She almost confirmed it at it's actions. 
It seemed almost excited when it went for Blizzardclaw first, undeniably the first cat the badger had seen as it raced through camp. Petalpaw didn't know what had happened, or why or when or even how, but what she did know was that the patrol must be fine.
Dawnstar wouldn't let anything happen to them, and Acacialight didn't mention needing help for any other cat. Still, with how quickly it moved, she felt somewhat concerned they might at least be injured enough to explain this disturbance. The badger was free of most fresh blood-stain that was not it's own up until the point it collided it's head into soft Blizzardclaw's exposed belly. Petalpaw lurched, her body trembling as she watched him jerk upwards, she caught sight of the pure terror in his eyes as the badger raced forward with him still stuck on, his paws flailing out desperately as if he may be trying to escape, one last final attempt to save his own life. It was far too late, within seconds his body crunched against the high-rock, it shifted and blood sprayed it violently, more joining as the badger nipped the white tom's spine and tossed him over her head and onto the Elder's Den. Her back arched violently and she fought nausea, her eyes were shimmering as if teary-eyed as she fought to stay put. The fighting went on, claws flexing and fur flying until another screech cut into her senses. Petalpaw had managed a blow or two aimed at the vicious beast when it hobbled over, unsteady momentarily as it searched for it's next victim.
The only cat who'd been foolish enough Petalpaw noticed had been contemplating for heart-beats. She was crouched in the clearing with wide yellow eyes, her pelt twitched with anticipation. Petalpaw could've guessed her next move several fox-lengths away.
She had to force down a wail, to tell her to run and hide, but rather the little Tunneler rose bravely to attempt to defend her clan, immediately being shot down with a heavy paw. Petalpaw winced, forcing her gaze away as the scent of blood began to taint the clearing, the sickening pungent flavor of which sent her recoiling, she grew ill and wretched from the scent alone. She wavered as she fought to stay steady as Decayingbelladonna raced to her side, her haunches rippled with terror and her paws were numbed with shock. Sagepaw, one of her youngest denmates, though she'd been a huge pain in the tail and Petalpaw avoided her at all costs, she could've never thought of this as the end of her life. It seemed almost unnatural, as if something had gone ary. None of this had been supposed to happen, was Starclan seeing this? Did they predict this would happen? Why wouldn't they warn us? They had for the coyote attack, or at least Twilightplume had somewhat implied they did. She dug her claws into the ground and forced her gaze back to the battle that raged on ahead, careful to avoid looking anywhere near where she'd last seen Sagepaw. She could see her fur scattered about now, and there was blood everywhere, staining the badger's muzzle a bright scarlet and darkening the entirety of it's mouth. Each time it snapped at the air Petalpaw caught a whiff of Sagepaw on it's breath.
Petalpaw had to swallow hard to avoid growing ill again. She was surprised she had anything left in her, considering how she hadn't had a thing to eat for the past few days. Jerking her muzzle around, she watched Acacialight and Skyrose hopefully, with Smokestone and Shatteredrose racing up to support them.
Carrionsaunter was there to, but for a moment he was stunned, staring at where Sagepaw had presumably been mauled. He sprung back into action, she caught sight of another cat wriggling in to join the fray as well, a little tabbico apprentice. The pelts clumped together into a mass, keeping the badger almost entirely stationary as they fought to keep it from inching closer to anymore dens. Petalpaw was too weary to aim blows when it flashed openings towards them, giving room for Decayingbelladonna to take them while Petalpaw arched her back and hissed defensively. She was growing weary of watching up until the point she spotted Tauntingtear.
Where had he been? She hadn't gotten to see much of him the whole fight so far, there had been so much going on. She watched him fly through the air, and she let out a low cry of terror. No! She flexed her claws into the Earth, preparing herself to leap into the battle, to defend her mentor and avenge him. She knew deep down that the kits needed her, they were relying on her. Decayingbelladonna could fight, but she was a medicine cat, not a trained Sentinel. I can't. Instead, she'd have to just watch and pray that he got up. She felt the heart-beats passing like moons, the claws of her impatience wearing on her as if she was being torn apart like Sagepaw.
Tauntingtear was on the other side of the clearing from her, his thick black pelt little more than a lump gathered where he lay beside the Tracker's den. Petalpaw had to bite her lip to keep from crying, her brow twitched as she furrowed it desperately. Please get up. 
He flinched, jerking and stirring. Petalpaw finally let her lungs collect air. She had no idea how badly he may have been hurt, or whether or not he may have been instantly killed like Blizzardclaw. She was almost bouncing with new strength as he hobbled forward, his pelt bristling with fury and his eyes glazed with vengeance. Petalpaw let out trills of cheer for him, urging him on and flexing the ground with sharp claws herself. This isn't lost yet! She felt thrilled as he joined back in, falling back to the back-side of the badger and easily avoiding blows this way. He ripped open gashes where other cats had torn away hide for him, his claws opening gashes where scarlet sprinkled his muzzle and sprayed against the sandy hollow. Bellowing in pain, the badger began to fall. It landed heavily, and in the open moment several cats seized the opportunity to take aim. Petalpaw too felt energy surging into her limbs.
Glancing at Decayingbelladonna, she nodded hopefully at her, racing forward in the badger's moment of weakness to press her flank alongside Tauntingtear, her claws flying through the air to match his blows as she wore down the badger alongside him, the frenzy of her attack fueled with hatred. This is for almost killing Tauntingtear! She ripped open a long gash in the badger's side, snagging her claw on it's rib. This is for Sagepaw and Blizzardclaw! She dug her fangs in hard and began to rip at hide, opening space that Tauntingtear used to rip into it's flesh. And so help me Silkstar if you've killed Dawnstar! She bundled her flanks to take a flying leap at it's side.
Petalpaw landed with a thump, scrambling her hind-legs and clutching with her front paws to hold on, she slipped her way up the length of the badger's back where she began to rip and tear at it's ears. It let out groans of pain, it's dark eye glaring directly at her as she snipped her teeth against them, tearing out stringy locks of fur and spitting them down at Carrionsaunter, who was ripping at the fur at the badger's throat to open a vital space. The badger slammed it's head around in an attempt to shake her, but she clung on to it with sharp claws, though she felt herself grow dizzy at the action. She felt almost ill again as she was whipped back and forth, her eyes struggling to grasp a proper view. Unsteadily, she began to back-peddle off, instead clinging to it's scruff where she was no longer forced into motion.
The flame-point molly savagely tore at the beast's scruff, digging her claws in and churning them, tearing out clumps of fur and hide in quick, valiant strikes. Her heart pounded in her ears, her blood ran hot beneath her pelt and she could feel her lungs exhale with such faint strength she wasn't even sure she was breathing. Everything was moving so fast, but Petalpaw was well versed for this. She'd trained alongside the best in the clan, and she'd be sure to make Tauntingtear proud. She raked her claws violently down the back of it's head, her gaze radiant as she caught sight of Skyrose as the molly dashed to claw at the eye of the beast. Upon being blinded by it's own fluid, the beast let out frenzied snarls. It whipped around, trying violently to shake each cat off it. Petalpaw had to tense and flex her claws deep as she swayed with it, her pelt bushing out twice it's size as the badger stood, and began teetering on unsteady hind-legs, whipping about wildly and ravaging with violent strikes. Blood plastered her muzzle, soaking her cheeks and turning her curly pink-hued whiskers a deep scarlet, blood from the beast welling to blind her as she fought to stay put. Her hind-legs scrabbling between it's shoulders, she sunk her teeth hard into it's soft ear, making it spit out in pain once more.
Petalpaw was transfixed on her onslaught, her gaze fixed on her target as she striked with a violent vigor, petals from her tail flew out across the badger's snout where she swept it towards it, scattering sweet scents and making it aim a blow at nothing, saving Smokestone from being struck.
She wasn't much help for the nursery, however. Her head shot up in an instant the second the sound of crunching overgrowth echoed across camp, a loud, heart-wrenching shriek shocking her from battle. Quickly, like a mother may respond to a kit, both Petalpaw and Ceciliazeal rocketed off target, with Petalpaw barging into the nursery after speeding over in flight on rapid paws. Ceciliazeal was at her heels, but the molly whipped around to violently rake her forepaws across the badger's snout, sending it backing away from the nursery while the remainder of the battling cats drove it as far as they could. Blinking into the exposed darkness of the den, she could just make out the fuzzy shape of little Poseykit practically tripping over herself in an effort to dash away. Petalpaw's heart soared with terror, her eyes widenening in sudden fear. She dashed forward, grasping the little silver-outlined kit in her jaws and pacing rapidly to Magnoliagloom, who wasted no time in squishing the molly down beneath her pelt, sheltering the kits entirely from any danger, as well as keeping them from escape.
Petalpaw felt a sudden strang pang in her chest. She hesitated momentarily beside Magnoliagloom as her mind stopped in it's panicked tracks. Silver...? Petalpaw felt her throat tightening. She could see it on a few other kits now too- but only out of the eye she'd been injured on. Polarkit, who was beginning to back away, was only visible to her because of a strange silver twinge to his pelt.
Was that there before...? She found herself growing weary quickly, she tried to force away what questions she was beginning to collect, instead forcing herself close to Polarkit and grabbing the tiny black tom close against her chest. She tucked him close, her heart wrenching as the tiny tom barreled his face into her silky chest fur, his massive tears for too big for a kit this little. Petalpaw felt her heart cracking, and though the little eerie glow frightened her, she bowed her head to give Polarkit the softest kisses she could over his fuzzy head. Her blue eyes swam with swelling emotion, tears welling in her own as her being ultimately shattered at seeing how horrified the little kits were. She stroked her paw down his little black back softly, brushing her cheek against his little own.
"I'll stay right here with you. If the big mean monster comes back, I'll scare it away, and come right back. How does that sound?" Petalpaw cooed the words softly, stroking a snow-toed paw against his little cheek. Since she'd recieved her injury only today, and the herbs were still stuck dry to the back of her head, Petalpaw thought it wise for her to take a break.
She felt especially concerned now that she was seeing soft light coming off of select kits. Her baby blue eyes rounded, piercing the veiled nursery as she scanned around for little Velvetkit. The molly eventually crept close, and Petalpaw jerked slightly in surprise. Velvetkit looked... Fine. Petalpaw's eyes fixed with sudden confusion.  Velvetkit's soft black pelt was bushed out and she looked petrified, but she wasn't picking up on the strange faint discoloration that Polarkit and Poseykit had had. Her brow twitched uneasily as Velvetkit huddled into her flank, nuzzling into the curve of her belly and snuggling in so tight that Petalpaw's body squished around her form. She continued to hold little Polarkit delicately, rocking the little tom and soothing him with soft trills, purrs, and coos only a mouse-tail from his ears.
Carrionsaunter:
Carrionsaunter's teeth sank deep into the badger's throat, using his jaws he began to tear and rip until chunks of flesh and the iron tang of blood bathed his tongue. Eventually he was shaken off, but the color-point tom was frenzied, his blue eyes radiant as he pounced into action. His breath was catching in his throat as he fought to aim blow after blow, each one repeatedly sending scarlet scattering through his fur. By now, the badger was beginning to retreat. It's good eye blazed with annoyance at the threat, and finally he felt a rush. He struck again and again, only managing to catch a few blows in before more cats were evidentally injured. He was lashing violently at it's front alongside Ceciliazeal and several other cats whose pelts brushed his flank, their claws sending sharp whistles through the air due to their intense speed. Cats behind the badger, much like poor Smokestone and Acacialight, were unfortunately trampled due to their lack of attention when it came time for them to move.
Carrionsaunter stopped in his tracks, his heart thudding painfully as he watched in stunned awe as Ceciliazeal continued batting, even as the badger had crunched over Smokestone's body, her black tabby pelt squished unnaturally and made a wretched sound. She was struck in the head, indenting her skull where the badger had back-peddled onto her.
Carrionsaunter's eyes were radiant, and he felt a wail rising in throat, but no words came. Smokestone lay entirely limp, her fight thwarted with one small mistake. That was our fault! Carrionsaunter couldn't believe his eyes. Ceciliazeal continued to aim harsh blows, she seemingly had no mind for how far she forced the beast to draw back, the frenzy of her attack no doubt fueled by the instinct to protect her unborn kits. Out of any cat in the clan, he wasn't surprised to see Ceciliazeal fighting the most violent. Yet he couldn't help but wince at Smokestone, then Acacialight when the molly was too slow to avoid the next step. Her tail was pinned under it, and she let out a horrific, piercing screech that made the badger recoil, stepping back over Smokestone and further crushing the poor tabby's limp body. Carrionsaunter felt ill.
He felt numb when Frostytaiga raced up, his head whipping around after a well-timed blow to stare with horrified eyes at the brute. Carrionsaunter's throat felt clogged, and he swallowed hard before he could go on, the horrors of the sights of today were shaking him immensely, he was surprised he could still stand. He felt weakness ebbing in his injured leg, his tail lashed behind him as he fought through the pain, his claws embedded into the Earth as he forced himself to hold his ground. His throat dropped in his belly, and he peered around momentarily, as if confused before replying.
"I don't know." He rasped, his whiskers drooping. "But this needs to end. Smokestone is dead." He jerked his muzzle towards the scene up ahead. Ceciliazeal was battling vigorously at the front of the badger, her sharp claws shredding it's pelt and sending fur flying. It reared up against the camp exit, it's once-white striped pelt now bathed in blood. It looked confused- scared, even. It looked mere seconds from fleeing, but that didn't stop the brewing pain in the brute's chest.
It shouldn't have come here to begin with. Now the camp was littered with corpses, the stench of the blood that traced each nook and cranny was enough to make any cat gag. There was fur scattered about, debris from dens, and worst of all the spaces where specific cats had met their end. Where Sagepaw had once laid was bathed in blood, soaked so deep into the ground that he was convinced it might not ever come up. Smokestone looked like little more than a kit laying on her side, her head faced away from him, thankfully, though he unfortunately could picture her once-pretty face now dented and mangled. He could see the spot exactly where her head caved in from where he was, starting at the top of her head and no doubt smashing in her face. Blizzardclaw still lay atop the Elder's den where Rubyfire and Spidersilk were squirming, their bodies trapped beneath the heavy weight of the debris as well as the tom. He couldn't see Shatteredrose now, though he had seen her in the thick of the battle. He recalled catching a glimpse of her in the medicine den, with her blood creating a trail from the fight to her temporary nest. He was beginning to swell with anxiety for Pigeonpaw as well, the poor little tom who may lose the usage of his hind-quarters if Peachpurr couldn't save him. 
Acacialight was there, too. After her tail had been released, the little Bengal had darted away, her voice still sounding as she hid in the Sentinel's den, he could see her limp tail hanging awkwardly down in a break that began in the center, it wriggled and undoubtedly ran bone against bone as she whipped away, her fear stench was almost infuriating. Seeing the little Bengal made him realize something, however. Scanning the crowd, he caught sight of Tarragonglaze, who was huddled in his den with shadows cloaking his face, though their mother was nowhere to be found. Is she...?
He almost didn't want to finish his sentence. Despite how awful she'd acted earlier, and despite how much he might've wanted to cuff her ears, he would never wish something so horrible upon her. Yet, peering around, there wasn't a lick of a clue where that iconic dark-brown dappled pelt could be. He felt his pelt bristling, and he whipped around to look up atop the High-Rock, half-expecting the Bengal to be watching them with those familiar, cold judgemental eyes. Yet there was nothing. What happened to her? Could she really leave them alone to fight this badger? Did she flee when she saw it? She's no coward. He reminded himself, but he couldn't seem to find another solution, since he'd been absent during the gap of time she had to leave camp. His ears fell flat, and he felt his breath catching in his throat. Would any of this have happened if Dawnstar was here? She was one of the biggest cats in the clan afterall, with Lavendersnow following a close second. If Lavenderburst were here to help us? And Dawnstar? They might've been able to kill it. It was a little bit of a stretch, but he genuinely felt the tides of battle could've drastically shifted if either of the clan's most violent fighters were here to protect them. Instead Lavendersnow was off dreaming with Starclan while Dawnstar was missing.
Decayingbelladonna:
The molly stuttered her paws backward in all of the rush, feeling so overwhelmed. So many noises tilted her ears, crackling of bones, the soft squishes of tissue being split. Roaring cats hissing against the beast before them, so much violence. Her pretty pale eyes shone complete and utter shock throughout the scene. Blizzardclaw went, and he fell. Sagepaw tried her best, Oh poor apprentice! She had cried and cried to get the attention of the molly, but to no avail. Another one had fallen. Smokestone's poor demise. The absence of Dawnstar. Hell, her mind raced so harshly.
Everything was a constant motion, moving in, out, in, out. Thrashing against her. Waves crawling upward onto her soft prickled flesh. The fur on her spine stood riddled from the experience. So many breaths were lost, so many in such an instance, so many had fallen. It was the crackle of Acacialight's painstaken yowl that caught her attention next. Slipping through reality, through it's seems, through the confusion, her eyes snapped toward her.
Then like clockwork, the hand ticked right.
"Acacialight!" Decayingbelladonna cried immediatley, getting a kickstart upward as she bounded toward the molly, yet she rushed past her, roughly giving Bella a turn and fumble into the dirt. Acacialight's tail dangled in an awkward, painful looking motion as she retreated into the Sentinel den from what she could see.
Her jaw hit a few pebbles in the dirt, the molly quavered for a moment before raising to her paws. Adreneline pumped through her chest, burning upward through her throat, quickly, she made her way in the same direction. Entering the den, she slid in, her breaths wavering in heavy motions as she glanced for her. Her eyes fragmenting into several motions, darting around the den, everything looked messy and uptight. But what was she kidding? The whole place was in shambles!
The molly's pale blue eyes caught sight of the beautiful bengal molly that lurked into the den for shelter. Her maw parted open to say something, but no words met her tone. Nothing came of it. It was in that moment where she made a decision she had no call for. To choose the side of a coward. To be noble in the sense of her clanmate's safety rather than physical fighting. 
Once again, she parted her jaw to speak. Choked words boiled in her throat as she tried to find the right ones. "Are you.." She mustered from her throat, but paused when giving a glance down at the molly's tail. "You.. Y-You fought- bravely-.." She fumbled once more, wincing at the sight of the bengal's mangled tail. She knew just by the look of it that it'd never be the same. And in knowing that, what was she to say? 'are you okay?' 'Sorry about your tail?' She'd hope what she said at least sounded... considerate? Moderate? She didn't know. But starclan, did any cat know what to think right now?
Acacialight:
The maiden had tried her best. She tried to copy the movements of her more experienced clanmates, but her blows were too sloppy to do damage and she was too slow to move aside in the rearing face of danger. She was petrified, every fibre of her being shook with a strange intensity that burned right through her chest. Dawnstar's death, then the badger coming in to claim more lives? She felt sick, she wished for nothing more than to have her mom back beside her, lapping her fur and promising her that everything would be alright. She yearned for the days to slow down- she wanted to go back. Everything happened so fast that she was having trouble comprehending her surroundings. Each cat that fell only felt like a brush of a reminder of her failures. I didn't want this! She wanted to scream, but her throat was too tight from fear to manage it. Being this close to the beast that had murdered her mother was taking a clear toll on the molly's mental health, her body was shaking visibly even from fox-lengths away. Her tail quivered and she forced herself backwards, only to feel a warm flank brush her back forward.
Smokestone! The mute black Sentinel was here, and she was fighting beside her. Her pelt was silk to the touch, her body comforting and soft, she almost cradled up into her when she caught the older molly's gaze. Though she wouldn't-couldn't say it outloud, Acacialight could read her burning hatred as hot as any frenzied flame.
The maiden shrank in her pelt, her gut did flips as the molly shrugged aside, barreling forward towards the badger's haunches and leaving her alone. Does she blame me? Acacialight hadn't really had the time to process anything yet, but she was seemingly dense enough not to notice. But what was I supposed to do? Acacialight couldn't stop the misery from swelling out of her heart in quick waves. Her whole world had been flipped upside-down today, first she'd spent a lovely morning with a friend, the next she's cowering at the sights of the murderer of her mother. Her only mother, the only one she'd ever have. I took her for granted, oh Dawnstar, I'm so sorry! Her body shook violently as she slowly made her way forward, her eyes glazed with pain as she leapt to support Smokestone.
Not like it mattered. The maiden was horrified when the badger slowly began to step back, it's heavy black paws slamming against the ground. Smokestone, whose yellow eyes were locked with it's flanks, seemingly hadn't noticed that it was moving at all.
Acacialight's belly dropped like a stone when she was caught. Instantly, Smokestone was crushed. The giant black pad met her directly on the head, and Acacialight let out a low moan of horror as it placed it's weight entirely onto her for a moment, crushing her as if she were little more than a piece of prey.
⚠️ Please please take note of the trigger warning issued above. This is graphic for the reason of it being Acacia's pov. ⚠️
The maiden was transfixed. She couldn't keep her eyes off of Smokestone's face as she was jerked to the ground, her eyes rounding with familiar fury towards her before quickly being deepened by terror. The beast's claws tore gaps in her pelt, revealing straight muscle and pulsing tendons as it scraped against the length of her body, her eyes shone light for only a moment before Acacialight was forced to watch her face be crushed in, blood splashed from her body, her muzzle flattened and twisted and her eyes sunken in. Blood oozed from her maw with hung open with a broken jaw, and the structure of her face crunched with a sickening crack, her cheek-bones caving in alongside her forehead to make for an entirely mangled cat. Acacialight couldn't stop herself from vomiting.
She'd thought she was in the clear from where she was, but when a weight slammed down on her tail, Acacialight let out an ear-splitting yowl so loud it must've echoed across the length of the moors.
Her eyes ran ice from the pain, rounding and bulging from her skull as she felt her spine crack under the weight. The maiden was scrabbling, kicking with hind-legs and dragging the ground towards her in a desperate attempt to escape, her voice still echoing across camp up until the beast, surprised, jerked off. She raced away immediately, her heart soaring and thudding painfully as she darted for shelter. Her ears screwed flat against her head, the molly slammed herself into a nest farthest from danger, her pale Bengal pelt little more than a faint light in the darkness. Her poor tail, which was swelling now with heat as her body attempted to fix itself, was snapped directly in the center, the bone petruded where the dead part of her tail hung limp. Acacialight couldn't keep herself from sobbing. It was all so overwhelming, and now she was in physical pain, not just mental.
Her pelt twitched at a patter of paws sounding behind her, though the voice that sounded was lost to her. She was afraid to crane her neck, her eyes were washing with misery and her pelt was bushed out many times it's size. She forced her paws into the nest, trying to ignore the pain raging in her poor broken tail. Then, a scent hit her. One that was actually familiar, and one that she quite liked.
Her heart skipped a beat only briefly as she allowed herself to turn her head, her eyes rounded with sorrow at the sight of her friend.
"Decayingbelladonna!" She wailed, her voice shaking horribly. "I can't do this anymore! Don't make me go back out there, please!" Her body shivered where she lay like a limp leaf in her nest, her damaged tail draped over the rim of her nest, she felt hot tears beginning to brew in the corners of her eyes.
Decayingbelladonna:
Decayingbelladonna's chest heaved a heavy heart as she stared at the bengal molly in front of her. Just previously, the midnight previous, she had caught her by the preypile under the moonlight. And now? She finds her in the sentinel den, a badger rampaging outside like the beast it was, cowardly they both seemed hidden in the den's walls. Her tail drooped across the ground, her paws clenching heavily to the dirt below them as her muzzle tipped down toward the earth.
Starclan. Why now have you chosen to punish us? Is it my fault? Is it Dawnstar's? Her mind went blank for a moment, her pale eyes fixtated on her paws. Or am I just trying to blame somecat for this incident when there really is no one to blame. How stupid of me. Bella's eyes drapped upward to Acacialight. How stupid of me to dare think it's some cat. To be a coward. To run and hide when there are helpless cats out there fighting for their lives for the clan. When the blood is splating everywhere from fresh wounds I could try helping! Her eyes winced closed as she tried to silence her mind.
She let herself give a deep breath. This all was too much to handle, she didn't blame the poor Acacialight before her for wailing to not go back. No cat wanted to. No cat wanted to fight this beast and yet it still happened. Her tail swiped across the dirt, which almost seemed stained a maroon, with how much blood had soaked into it, the whole area seemed reddish-brown. In the end, she had to make a choice. Her pale blue eyes pitched to Acacialight, then narrowed sorrowfully.
"I won't." She mumbled, padding forward, though with the movement of her paw, she hesitated. Is this a good idea? She had to process it for a moment before allowing another step to be done. The molly decided, taking another heaving breath as she padded up to Acacialight and softly came down beside her. While still keeping a bit of distance in case the bengal molly would lash out in any circumstance. "We can just.... be in here... let the other cats take care of this.. okay?" Decayingbelladonna said, though her voice shook with hesitation, very clear she didn't know what was to expect, she still slipped honey into her tone. No matter what, she wanted the molly to feel as safe as possible. In this scenario, any cat could have a breakdown. It was pretty much her job to prevent that, and in the meantime, prevent her own as well.
"Do you m-mind if... I lay here?" The molly still asked, wanting to know if she could do anything else in terms of comfort. Though that'd take getting a bit closer. Maybe even taking a look at her tail, but that may be too much to ask for. She was unsure. At least her intentions were in the right place.'
Acacialight:
The maiden still felt agony coursing through her pelt as if she had been Smokestone being torn at. Her pelt ached with wounds only she could feel though she had few that were visible. This whole thing had been such a mess, and she felt beyond traumatized from everything she'd witnessed- she almost didn't want to think about leaving her den ever again. That was until she caught the sweet scent of the flowers that Decayingbelladonna held in her tail, the one against her ear dangled and sent few petals falling when she moved her pretty dark head. Acacialight felt a bit of relief like a warm tongue against her pelt. She liked Decayingbelladonna, a lot, actually. She'd only ever met her the one time but the molly had put such an imprint on Acacialight's heart it was hard not to remember everything she liked about her. The ebony tabby moved slowly, her eyes rounding as if afraid of her, it made Acacialight wince. Am I a monster? She asked herself, grief welling in her chest. Even Decayingbelladonna looks afraid of me... She wished she could express how much she hadn't meant for this to happen, how much she wanted her mom to be back home and for everything to go back to how it was just earlier that day. Yet when she tried, her voice wavered and she broke down harder, her tears streaming down her face as she blinked them off in an attempt to catch a proper glimpse at the pretty tabby.
As she moved closer,
Acacialight fought the urge to rush into her pelt, the familiar warmth of another cat was everything she needed- everything she wanted, but she was afraid of being unwanted. She was terrified of the rejection, the recoil that would send her curling back up into her nest and force her into crying even harder. Yet as she drew closer, the maiden realized she really couldn't move even if she wanted too, the agony that weighed down onto her made her body feel about as heavy as that badger had been. It felt like a cat was pressing their paws so hard into her chest that she couldn't take a breath, her sobs her cut off by her gasping intake of air. Her ears flattened against her skull, honey-eyes gleaming in the light from pain as she rose her head, listening carefully. Decayingbelladonna's soft voice was a comfort, but she sounded so far away. Acacialight tried to hone in her senses, but she just couldn't, no matter how hard she tried. Grief swelled in her veins and stilled her lungs, she gasped in response to what she said. Though, she had to admit to herself that she was thankful. Thankful for the comfort given, even when she knew it wasn't deserved. It's her job, though. Acacialight thought, but she screwed up her expression to force the thought away, instead breathing in the scent of her sweet accessories before blinking with shining eyes at the tabby.
"T-thank you." She replied softly, her voice nothing like what it had once been earlier in the day.
Rather the maiden was polite, and she spoke like a shy kit. Lowering her muzzle, she nodded slowly after a moment, before shifting in the nest in an attempt to make room, offering the molly up a place directly beside her. "No... I'd like that, actually." She shuffled her paws, hoping she wasn't being too obvious about her feelings towards the molly. She sunk slowly in her nest after that, her ears pinned back against her skull. She wanted to keep a conversation going, but the molly was so miserable that she could barely raise her head, let alone attempt to construct a coherent sentence. Laying her pale freckled face gently against the rim of the nest, she stared blankly ahead into the inky darkness, her heart swelling with a similar black as she fought to keep herself from falling into her despair.
Decayingbelladonna:
Decayingbelladonna smiled a little, scooching closer to the bengal molly. Her fur brushing up against the bengal's sunlit pelt. The molly's muzzle turned to Acacialight, sparks of worry entranced in her iris', yet she gave no mention to it. There was an awkward silence for a while, she didn't know what to say. Or what could be said in a situation like this. What was she gonna do? Comment on the molly's hanging tail? She caught her eyes drifting downward to look at it, but straightened them up to look at Acacialight's muzzle every time. Worry panged in her chest, she knew she wasn't the right one to deal with it, but it still made her heart ache to see such a horrible injury be done to the cat whom rested by her.
After a while, she mustered up the courage to say something, her head tilting a little to the left as her eyes tried not to wander off toward the den's entrance, where there still were yowls. "Well...... Do you know how this happened....?" The dame asked of her, then paused in a quick dramatic motion. Bewilderment struck across her expression. "Y-You don't have to respond if you don't want to- I-.. I understand it's kind of harsh to ask of right now." Her words stumbled as she tried to correct what she said, she didn't want it to sound like it was a demand.
Acacialight:
The pale maiden craned her neck, shuffling anxiously as Decayingbelladonna moved in beside her, the sudden rush of warmth that surged from beneath her pelt had Acacialight, before she even realized she was doing it, sinking against her. She breathed in her scent, her cheek resting softly against her shoulder as she fought back tears, her long ears screwed up tight into her skull. She felt somewhat at ease at her touch, the warmth of it reinvigorated her strength slightly, but she was still finding it difficult to bite back tears before they fell onto her pretty dark pelt. She was beyond thankful, really, for the comfort. Acacialight had no right to deny that she cherished Decayingbelladonna now more than ever, she was here in her greatest time of need. But I don't deserve it. Her honey-gaze slipped back down, and she sighed as she rested her chin against her friend, her broken tail laid between them, close enough for the molly to examine if she so wished. She couldn't help but flinch when the molly's voice piped up again. She tried to avoid it, but she couldn't help breaking down harder, her teeth gnashing against the air and her muzzle screwing up as she fought to keep herself stable. I got my mom killed, and now Smokestone and Blizzardclaw and Sagepaw and..... She found the number of casualties taunting her, she tried her best to force the thought away, but her claws flexed harshly into the ground, her eyes glazing over with pain.
"We...." She began, her voice quivering. She bit her lip and sniffled, her pupils fixing intensely.
"Dawnstar... W-we went out for a patrol." She tried to start but stopped again and again, her lip twitched and her gums shone when she bit back sobs, she tried not to catch her eye, she was horrified of being judged. "I went on that patrol after I was yelled at. During it we found the scent... And..." She jerked her muzzle away, averting her gaze. "It's my fault. All of this is. If I just wasn't here no cat would've gotten hurt." She forced her paws into the nest, shredding it with long claws and pulling sprigs to meet her, her whiskers quivered as she fought back tears. She was terrified, really, of telling the truth. Especially to Decayingbelladonna. She slumped in her nest, defeated. She thought so highly of the molly, she respected her so much despite how much she didn't understand her ranking. She was just... Perfect, as far as Acacialight had seen, at least. How can a cat be so pretty and so level-headed all the time? She'd glance back over if she wasn't petrified of seeing that same spark of hatred from within her as she'd seen in Smokestone, the molly's brutal death kept up in her mind, constantly rehashing the event to her and making her tremble.
Decayingbelladonna:
The molly's eyes rounded at Acacialight, her paws quavered a little as she noticed the dame sort of change demurer. As she spoke, Decayingbelladonna could hear the hesitation and tremble of her voice, it made her want to cry as well, how absolutely low her heart felt to just let the bengal molly sit there and stop herself from crying. She wanted to sympathize so badly with her, just to cuddle Acacialight and tell her it was going to be okay. But, she didn't even know if it would. The dame's tail surely wasn't going to heal properly, and the badger outside wasn't leaving anytime soon. All the screams from outside just made her pelt shiver.
When Acacialight told her of the act she had committed in bringing the badger, honestly, she wasn't put back by it. "Does.. that really matter?" She mumbled under her breath, fairly low so it was inaudible. It seemed foolish to judge her based off of the fact she made an accident. "So what you made a poor choice? That's not your fault entirely. You didn't know this'd happen right..?" The molly said to her, trying to give what comfort she could in the moment.
"Don't blame yourself so much. The fact you still were out there and fought so bravely to protect us means something, okay-? The losses... they're.." Her throat tightened for a moment. Did she have the right to talk about the cats who fell to the badger's claws? What was she gonna say? 'they are respected but it happens'? She took a cat's life away herself, did she even have the right to say that?
She gave a soft sigh, glancing off to the side. Suddenly seeming less confident about what she was saying.
Acacialight:
The maiden was blinking furiously at her companion. Her eyes shone with sorrow, her heart ached so much. Oh how she wished everything would stop. Dawnstar is still out there! Nevermind the rest of the cats, even Shatteredrose and Smokestone, she was shackled the most heavily by Dawnstar's death. The reminder of her snapping neck and poor limp body made the molly recoil harshly as if it had just happened, she tried to shove moss into her ears but her paws were trembling far too much. She sunk in deeper to Decayingbelladonna, her soft pelt twined with her own disheveled, and she breathed in gulps of her scent in between harsh sobs. Her words soothed her, and the molly was beginning to feel the horrible weight of her crimes lessen as if the paw had been lifted off her chest by Decayingbelladonna alone. She blinked at her through glassy honey eyes, her pupils dilated heavily in the waning darkness. Dawn had not yet reached them, so her pelt still was deepened a chestnut brown rather than her near golden-cream.
Her rosetted pattern was deep and complex, especially considering now that her stripes and spots were brushed up and around in different bouts of displacement due to her little time spent fighting. How much of a use had she been, though? First she brings the damn thing here, then she's one of the cats cowering in her nest with her tail between her legs. I'm pathetic.
"No!" She sounded exasperated, her voice nearly a yowl when it sounded, through it was full of her own frustration and pent up hatred towards herself. "I didn't mean for anything to happen! I don't know... Dawnstar saved me, but seeing her..." She jerked her muzzle, the thought was clearly very painful, fresh in her mind and festering through her pelt like a pulsing poison. "Seeing her die like that...? God, it destroyed me." Her voice cracked and sounded like little more than a chirp in the deep confines of her chest. She blinked sorrowfully at her friend, her ears swallowing back her tufts of ear-fluff as she swivelled them away. "I didn't know what else to do. Where else to go. The whole patrol was gone... It was just me and the monster, the monster that killed my mom."
She sunk her head so low into the moss that she thought she might be consumed by it. How could she not blame herself for this? It was her fault afterall. She knew it was her job to save her feelings, but did she genuinely believe that she could be spared for this?
"Don't you blame me?" She asked through sniffles. "You can't deny that I'm a wretched, wretched cat. I got my mom and so many of my clanmates killed- oh, God... What will Tauntingstar do to me?" She couldn't bare to think of it, how the deputy would punish her for everything she'd done. She, unknowingly, was under the impression that Dawnstar was not going to make a return, her head still swarming with the reminder of her premature death. Tauntingstar. The thought made her heart crack. She couldn't believe that her mom wasn't coming back, it hurt so much to think about. "Maybe I should just... Run away. I can't get in trouble if he can't find me, right?" She blinked desperately into Decayingbelladonna's clear blue eyes, the level-headedness she possessed was taunting to the grieving, harshly diluted maiden.
Decayingbelladonna:
Decayingbelladonna looked at Acacialight in sorrow for a while. Every word stuck to her and stung like she was being shot by a hunter's bullet, every word, nesting it's way through her fur and blistering. It wasn't exactly like Acacia was lashing out at her, but it was the sympathy that boiled in her, the bengal molly sounded so desperate in how she acted. The comment about Dawnstar rubbed her the wrong way.
"Dawnstar.... will come back with 8 lives. This one is treasured- but- it's not like she's gone forever.. not yet at least." She reasoned, though she didn't really think the sentence through. She was almost confused by Acacialight. Does she think Dawnstar is gone completely? The question burned in her brain. Surely not, right? She isn't, right?
"Don't you blame me?"
That made her pelt shiver. Without taking a moment to think about it, she replied in haste, bewildered. "No, of course not! This wasn't your intent. It was a mistake, I'm not going to think about you lowly because you did something bad!"
If I judged like that, or Valleystar did, I wouldn't be here for you Acacialight. She silently told herself, as if replying to her own words.
"I.. I think it's just a big misunderstanding... I know it's all scary. I know it's horrible you saw Dawnstar's 1st life be taken, but this isn't the end for you!" She leaned over, very very gently putting her paw on Acacialight's. Very careful to not cause anymore pain for the molly. "Please, just calm down. It's going to be okay." The molly assured her.
Acacialight:
The maiden froze and blinked earnestly at her friend, her gaze tracing the silky fur that lined her cheeks in soft plumes. Her ears were swivelled towards her, rather than pinned back and ignorant of any of the words Acacialight spoke. She took note of that and allowed warmth to flood her heart, if only briefly. She blinked thankfully at the molly, finally beginning to feel the crippling weight of dread lessen. She was beyond shocked when Decayingbelladonna spoke up again, she lurched in her nest and stared at the molly in bewilderment. 8 more lives? What was Decayingbelladonna talking about?
"You don't have to save my feelings, you know." She murmured, though it was clear she truly felt the opposite. She clung to the possibility with sharp claws, though her mind couldn't wrap around it. How could that be possible? No cat had more than one life. What made Dawnstar so special?
She tipped her head, confusion flooding her gaze. "She's dead. Like, really dead. The badger broke her neck." She blinked heavy lids, her gaze swimming with pain. "I don't know how she could come back, but she wasn't moving when I left. It doesn't..." Her voice faltered and she let the thought fall away, rather forcing her mind back on replying to what else she'd commented. Her broken tail ached, racking pain through her body and pulsing heat between them, Acacialight almost felt as if her paws beaded with sweat. She recoiled at Decayingbelladonna's touch, tucking her paw under her chest and shielding herself like a small kit. I don't deserve your sympathy. 
She took a few deep breaths as she searched for the words to reply with, staring blankly down between them at her tail. Her mind raced with a fervor, her thoughts recoiled like poison-tongued snakes before biting down into her and flooding her with dread. She couldn't help it, but the agony kept coursing. "Okay?" She sniffled, blinking up at her with a pained expression.
"Do you really think so? There's no way any cat will let me get away with it... I saw how mad Blizzardclaw and Smokestone are... or err, were. It might be easier if I run away now, before any cat has a chance to hurt me." She tipped her muzzle towards her tail, her ears pinning back against her skull. God knows I'm a kit when it comes to injuries. So much as a swipe and I'm crying. I'm no use to the clan anyway. She forced her gaze away, her eyes foggy. "I don't know who would want me here anymore. All I ever do is mess things up."
Decayingbelladonna:
Decayingbelladonna stared at Acacialight as she went on about her mother, her heart filled with sympathy as the dame went on about her mother. Does she not know...? Dawnstar will return, she's the leader after all-
Though her outside demure was sympathetic and warm, inside, was quite a different story. Vividly she could imagine the death of Dawnstar. She could imagine sitting off to the side, watching it happen. Doing nothing to help her. She had other lives, right? What's one down the hatch? How utterly amazing it must of been to see it. Watch the monarch crash and fall under a power above her. Hear that crackling sound of suffering yowls as she exhorted from her near-death state.
Suddenly, she felt like she was taken away from the conversation. Looking around, no longer could she see Acacialight. What replaced her was a large rock, glancing away she looked around at her surroundings. A big black looking area, almost looking like variegated lagoon, what she could make out at least. Yet everything was ripped of color. In shock, the molly got to her paws, her breaths starting rapidly. "Hello?" She called, sudden anxiety crawling up her throat and tightening it.
Why'd she feel so guilty?
In the distance she could make out a figure approaching. Her maw nearly dropped when it became clear, it was her, as in, Crowpaw. Me? She took a few pawsteps back. How was this possible? Was this a dream or something? Her apprentice self approached almost like it was from the lagoon itself. It's fur thickened with water, draping down it's sides. And in a sudden motion, she stopped. "What..- w-what do you want?" She asked hesitantly. By now, she could figure this was a hallucination, maybe something she was thinking about? Dawnstar? Whatever it was, she wanted it over with. She didn't want to leave Acacialight alone.
Crowpaw tilted her head ever so slightly, the water dripped down her clean muzzle. Must of been before... She thought as she watched the dripplets hit the ground. Then, Crowpaw's maw stretched open. "Your heart tainted black." It spoke, stretching a paw forward, luring toward her again. "Honey turned to smoke." It's tail twitched vigorously. "No remorse, no empathy."
Decayingbelladonna backed up, seemingly into the rock that was just beside her, which once resembled Acacialight. Her pale eyes widdened with suspense as the apprentice spoke. Her words twisted, nothing like she had ever imagine herself sounding like. When Bella was cornered, the figure came muzzle to muzzle lengths away from her. It's eyes glinted with light, even though the whole area was monochrome.
"Sunlight has fallen. Dawn will arrive, and it's mercy will not be plentiful."
Her eyes shot widely open, her breaths heaving harshly. Frantically her iris' bounced around, her body twitching in fear. However, her ears tipped downward when she realized Acacialight was next to her, she was back in the den, everything was normal. On Acacialight's side, Bella had just paused and was blank until a few seconds later, she gasped and started being frantic. She glanced down at her paws, which seemed to sort of be shaking a little bit. I...I-It's okay.. She told herself, forcing her eyes closed. It was just a hallucination.
It wasn't real.'
Acacialight:
Acacialight sat, waiting, with her eyes wide and crystal-sheen while she awaited a reply. She took note of every little change in Decayingbelladonna's face, starting from the way her eyes rounded then grew soft, her eyes flying dizzily with colors as she blinked through a haze-like state. The maiden, who had practically poured her heart out just then, was horribly taken aback by her lack of reply. Instead of waiting for her to come to, the molly recoiled and hid her face, assuming the worst from her after her multiple heart-beat spent paused. You don't believe a word you said! You're a liar just like Dawnstar. She flexed her claws into her head, pain shooting through her when her thin claw-tips pricked her soft skin. Her muzzle twisted and embedded into a deep frown, her brow furrowing into a complex web of twisted features. No cat actually cares. I'm right to want to leave. Why can't any cat just be honest with me? She tried to lash her tail, only to forget how much it hurt. She let out a violent hiss, which to her seemed like it brought Decayingbelladonna back to attention. As the molly gasped and began shuttering, Acacialight froze and blinked at her, her gaze puzzled.
What's wrong with her, why did she do that? Although her body still coursed with emotional pain, she allowed her flank to rest back against Decayingbelladonna.
Sinking in beside her, she rounded her eyes, sympathy flooded through her pelt and she suddenly leaned in to lightly brush locks of fur from her pretty face, delicate and gentle as a mother might to her kit. Not like I know anything about that! She hissed internally, though she forced aside her own emotions to sniff over the black tabby, her twitching brow show a clear concern plastered over her pale freckled face. Resetting the placement of the belladonna, which had shifted in her jerking motion, Acacialight peered into the depths of Decayingbelladonna's eyes, her own glistened with empathy. 
"Are you okay?" She breathed, her muzzle twitching. "Here, lay down. You look like you've just seen a ghost." She soothed, her voice soft as she stepped aside from the nest to give the molly room if she were to collapse. She wrapped the length of her pale Bengal pelt around her, shocked at how cold she was under her pelt, she pressed close and bushed out her fur to further insulate the pair. With her head only a mouse-length away, she leaned her muzzle close. "I'm sorry I said anything. I should learn when to shut my big stupid mouth." She mewed, her voice soft as she took up the therapeutic role arguably better than Decayingbelladonna had managed. She had seemed so awkward, like she wasn't used to it or something.
Why is she a mental medicine cat? She'd never heard of Halfdusk needing comforting, but she supposed that every cat had feelings. It wasn't like she couldn't blame the medicine cat for not knowing what to do with her. I'm a mistake. I'm a worthless, stupid mistake that doesn't even deserve to be here. She flattened her ears, finally accepting the pain into her heart. It was the truth afterall, and Decayingbelladonna just about all confirmed it now. Maybe I'll go be a kittypet again. It's not like any cat will miss me, and life will be a lot better that way. She closed her eyes, allowing her chin to rest against Decayingbelladonna's side as she breathed a final sigh of defeat. That sounds... Good.
Decayingbelladonna:
Decayingbelladonna had basically snapped out of it when she heard Acacialight, her eyes glanced over at her but she didn't speak. Was that a dream? She thought, her gaze looked off outside the den. At some point, she just closed her eyes and breathed out, but the moment didn't last as Acacialight got up and padded out at the sound of Carrionsaunter's yowl. Her head twitched to the entrance of the den, quickly lifting at the noise. They must've defeated it..! She thought, stretching out her limbs into the dirt before lifting fully up.
Whatever had just happened, it wasn't real, she knew that. Though it felt real, though as much as she wanted to argue it was, it wasn't. It was her mind playing tricks on her. Dear Starclan, I must've looked like an absolute fool in front of her. The molly thought, curling her tail around her lower behind. In the end, she gave deep sigh and dipped her head a bit toward the ground. I shouldn't think about it right now, what matters is that the clan is safe, for now.
Her head lifted up, a voice played at the back of her mind, but she sharpened her glance at the entrance and fixed up her expression to look a little more refined. With that, she padded out of the entrance after Acacialight. To her delight, and horror, the clan was in shambles. The Elder's den ripped to peices, the dead bodies scowled around the camp like the badger's trophies. And yet, she still was relieved, relieved to see cats standing out in the clearing, all alive, even if just barely.
The molly did nothing significant, just watched from just outside the sentinel's den as Acacialight spoke to Tauntingtear.
Spidersilk:
Deep inside the Elder’s den, shadowed by the soft heathered walls, a long-furred damsel laid with her nose tucked underneath her paws, chest rising in a calm fashion. White tipped paws curled over each other as the damsel slept, though they twitched on occasion as if the feline was dreaming of rolling hills and prairies, her paws propelling her forward across the vast greenery. A soft, pleased smile lay imprinted on the feline’s muzzle, her dreams wrapping her mind in a warm hug of joy. As she smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkled, her nose scrunching into a little button. Her ears lay down across her head, ear tips flattened and blending with the rest of her fur. Her tail lay around the entire collection, laying atop her paws and hiding the bottom half of her muzzle in a fluffy storm of fur. The only thing that stuck out of this comfort perfection was her right leg. Disheveled and pushed away from the rest of her body, it was twisted in a painful-looking fashion, her paw twisted almost backwards. Her claws peeked out from their pads, as if permanently stuck in the position. Laying across her thigh was a gaping bite, made from a creature of a particularly-large size, sharp canines making the largest indent in the flesh. Throughout her body lay large slashes and other indents from a jaw, though most were faded and covered by at least a small amount of fur. It had been a while since the event that caused these marks, or at least a few moons, but the pain still clung to them like an unshakable memory. Ignoring the leg thought, Spidersilk seemed to be deep asleep without a care in the world. Simply by the level of comfort that was shown in her position, and the little movement that she portrayed, it was obvious that the damsel had been sleeping for quite a while.
Likely since mid-afternoon, perhaps momentarily before the second patrol departed. Deep within sleep, her dreams were full of fantasies and hopes.
Her sleep was particularly undisturbed for quite a while as evening transformed to night, the leaf-fall season outside dropping the temperature as soon as the sun began to fall in the sky. As bright orange gave way to cool gray, sleep held its grasp on her mind. On occasion, her body would twitch, changing positions, though her leg would stay still. It seemed nothing could disturb her in this glorious sleep, one of peace and perfection that would hopefully last forever. The damsel let out a breath of air through her mouth, similar to a sigh of peace.
But outside, a shrill yowl sounded, one of terror and exclamation. Unbeknownst to the sleeping damsel, it was of Blizzardclaw, who now stood guard at the camp entrance. Instead of waking Spidersilk, her dreams were transformed. With a simple yowl, her dreams became dark and crude, the rolling hills and prairies turning into bodies of cat and coyote alike. She found herself tripping over limb and tail, rolling down the bodied prairie. Screams and yowls of pain and terror echoed through the hills, overpowering the damsel until she was forced to halt in her running, bringing paws to her ears to force the sound from entering them. She winced, her face scrunching up as she willed the sound to stop, the nightmare to stop. Spidersilk yowled, a forceful attempt at shaking herself from her dream, and thankfully, her wish was granted. She awoke with a start, panting and shaking, the fur along her spine and tail bristled and angry. She took a moment, a single moment, to collect her breath and peace, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply.
She forced her fur to lay flat, shaking it out as she used her front legs and uninjured back leg to stand, though it was more of a hop to a standing position. As she came to a standing position, her injured leg lowered to the ground, beginning to drag behind her. She let out a forced exhale through her nose at the feeling, and refused to even look back at it. She let her gaze wander as a distraction.
A nest or two away lay Rubyfire, a small and well-muscled Maine Coon with small, golden eyes. Her limbs lay spread out in a relaxed position, though her eyes were open. As the two elders met eyes, Rubyfire blinked a silent greeting, before turning her head away, a silent dismissal. Spideresilk let out the faintest of a sigh, turning her head to the den instead. 
She was interrupted as the terrible sound of branches snapping and cracking under a huge amount of pressure sounded from outside the den. Startled, the damsel jumped, taking a step backwards. Her ears perked upwards as she attempted to figure out the source of the sound. A huge growl followed the snapping, and she heard various yowling sounds from her clanmates, unmistakably. What in Silkstar’s name is going on out there? She hurried forward, dragging her injured leg behind her as she neared the entrance of the elder’s den. Ducking her head, she peered outwards, hearing Rubyfire begin to stand as well. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to such darkness, but after a second, she noticed a massive black and white clump of fur standing in the center of the clearing. Its claws and teeth were stained red with a sticky liquid, its eyes wide and furious.
Spidersilk tensed, feeling her entire body grow numb as she recognized the beast. Badger.
She didn’t have a second to think, to process the beast in front of her, before it began stepping backwards, it’s massive paws coming down on the earth like the booming claps of thunder. It let out a low growl of annoyance as cats began rearing up to defend the camp from the danger, some even leaping onto the black-and-white furred beast’s back and latching on. In anger, it began swinging it’s paws in the attacker’s direction, but soon, his arm drew close to the Elder’s Den. Spidersilk’s eyes went wide, and attempted to prepare herself to bolt away. However, as she attempted to put weight on her back paw out of habit, she felt it crumple beside her. She flopped down onto her belly, and was forced to watch as the paw hit the soft weavings of the den. As claws tore through woven heather and moss, the entire infrastructure of the den came crashing down upon the elders.
As it came down, a massive, unbelieveable weight was thrown upon her body, and she couldn’t help but let out a ear-piercing screech. Her head hit the damp earth as the brambles pinned her lower body to the floor.
Panic ensued immediately. Within seconds she felt the grasp of fear begin to tear at her fur, the part of her mind that made the decisions. Her mind became a black hole, a void that dragged in every thought that made sense. Claustrophobic terror was eating at her senses, her mind. The pinning weight on her backside seemed to grow exponentially, becoming an unstoppable dread that just didn’t stop growing. Anxiety sparked in her chest, flaring until it grew into a fire. She felt her breath leave her, her heart-rate growing quicker as she found it harder and harder to get a full breath. Darkness swarmed her vision like the coming night, blood pounding in her ears. She attempted to squirm, to free herself from the catastrophe and be let loose, but she couldn’t. Without the use of her secondary back leg, she could not get the traction to push herself out of the mess. She felt tears brimming the edge of her vision and she shut her eyes fiercely. This is it. I’m dying. Despite the seriousness of that idea, a comfort washed over her suddenly, feeling as though a cat from the beyond came to hug her. Cormorantcry… The thought was a whisper underneath all the panic, and she couldn’t help but smile. Perhaps she would see him now, finally.
🛑 SPOILERS INCLUDE POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING, GRAPHIC EXPLANATION OF DEATHS 🛑
But as her panic decreased and she felt the lowest level of calm, she began to turn her attention towards the battle that was unfolding in front of her, and felt the panic return, stronger than ever before.  An apprentice, once of beauty and strength, was being torn to bits in front of her, and she felt bile rise in her throat. The badger’s claws were ripping through flesh, bone, and muscle, exposing insides that should never been seen. Blood flew in every direction, along with torn pieces of flesh and fur. The earth around the killing was stained with blood, covered in pieces of the once-alive apprentice. The badger’s eyes were furious as it reached its muzzle down and began ripping through skin with teeth. Spidersilk felt a spasm of disgust ricochet through her body, and she had to fight with every ounce of her being not to vomit. She shut her eyes fiercely, feeling the tears return. Why, StarClan, why? What have we done to deserve this?
Before long, more met the paws of the badger, seeming as if they would soon overpower it. But the badger was relentless. When Acacialight and Smokestone stepped up to battle the badger from behind, they were surprised as the white-and-black furred beast began to take hug steps backwards, drawing nearer and nearer to the two. Quite suddenly, the badger’s paw landed atop Smokestone’s head and  Spiderwilk watched as the molly’s head was obliterated underneath the heavy paw. Her black pelt squished and crackled as tendons, bones, and muscles were snapped in turn as the beast’s heavyweight came crashing down. Her head was indented, skull mangled and misshapen while the rest of her body was a bile-rising mess. She felt vomit rising up her throat, and she forced her every being to shut down.
She couldn’t handle this- watching from the bystanders when she should be fighting alongside them. She should not be an elder. IF it wasn’t for Danwstar and her grumpy entitlement, she would still be a tunneler, rising and battling beside her clanmates till her last breath. She let out a yowl of fury and continued to squirm, scramble anything to force her way out of this debris and battle. As she moved, she felt the sharp ends of the den walls and ceiling begin to pierce and scratch her fur and pelt, and she let out another yowl of pleading. Please- someone help us! She had no idea what the state of Rubyfire was, and she hoped she was alright and not suffocated by the debris. She felt a sob threaten to shake her body, and she swallowed with intent, with begging.
Tauntingtear:
The clan camp was a disaster of bodies, overgrowth, and remains of dens flying through the air and scattering across the clearing. As the badger continued to fight and injure his clanmates, Tauntingtear felt his fury begin to grow to an immeasurable amount. His strikes and attacks became clear, his claws scraping and tearing at the badger’s thick hide. Though the fight had originally seemed so perilous and without victory, it seemed that now, with some StarClan forsaken luck, the clan might win this battle afterall. This idea, this hope only pushed Tauntingtear on further, allowing him to forget about the growing ache in his hind quarters and back leg from his previous fall. A snarl twisted his muzzle, tail lashing behind him. Encouraged by the yelps and hollers from a familiar voice behind him, the snarl twisted to a victorious smirk. After having taken a moment's rest, a moment break to stop himself from falling to pieces, he leapt back into the battle with unsheathed claws, letting out a yowl of a war cry. He leapt into the air, aiming for the badger’s exposed muzzle. He got in a nice slash across the beast’s nose before falling back to the dusty ground, narrowly avoiding the badger’s response as he leaped over the white-and-black predator’s arm that swung towards him. He couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a sudden burst of energy. Whether it was the encouragement he received from his apprentice, or the idea that they might just win this… he felt much more alive than he had been at the beginning. His smile grew larger as Petalpaw joined at his side, fury glowing through her strikes and claws as she tore at the beast’s flesh and fur. Pride swelled in his gut, and despite the perilousness of the situation, he was reminded of how much he missed the chaos of battle. How much he missed the quick response times, looming of danger, and the feeling of his claws hitting home. His thought was only darkened as he was reminded of the bodies, the lost clanmates.
His gaze swung from excitement to vengeance as he was reminded of his topic. For StarClan, for my home, for Dawnstar.
Exhaustion did grow near, though, gnawing at his pelt and the edges of his mind. He felt a dull ache begin to set in among his muscles and limbs, reminding him of how long he had been fighting this horrid beast. He let out a low growl, sending the ache away. His ears twitched as he dodged, aimed, rested; repeat. His tail hung low to the ground as his energy began to fade, and he felt his blows grow sloppy, as did the rest of his clanmates. He felt the energy of the battle grow from vengeance to exhaustion, and it was even emitted from the badger itself. IT felt as if sleep began to swarm the camp at once, entrancing those it could reach with the pleasant idea of flopping down and not getting up again. But that thought was too similar to death, the thing he had seen first hand too many times during this battle. Blizzardclaw, Sagepaw, Bayblossom, Smokestone, and too many others. Even thinking about it brought the huge, looming sense of loss to him, and he felt as if he would collapse under it.
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 
At the moment, a swelling orchestra of war cries barreled its way into the camp as Windsear, Dancingwhisper, Tansypaw, And Brightskip all bounded through the camp entrance, their eyes glazed with fury. They all leapt into the battle with a new, boundless energy that brought a new light to the battle. Fear loomed in the badger’s eyes, and before long, it began backing away instead of attacking. Its head swung in every direction, searching for a way out, but blows pelted the beast from every direction, with Ceciliazeal bringing the most fury. Tauntingtear watched her in between blows in silent awe. Despite the heavy weight she carried with her unborn kits, her blows were exact and held more rage than he could’ve ever imagined. He let out a yowl of encouragement, and heard others behind him do the same. We can do this. We’re gonna win this! His snarles turned to yowls of victory as the clan pushed the badger closer and closer to a wall, the beast’s eyes flaring with fear and terror. It’s gaze swung this way and that way, searching for an opening, an exit, anything. Finally, the badger found an opening and struck Ceciliazeal away, climbing it’s way up a dusty earth wall, worried growls and soft snarls falling from it’s snout. As Carrionsaunter went to check on the pregnant queen, Tauntingtear watched as the beast escaped. The camp went silent for many moments as clanmates caught their breath, shaking dust from their pelts and staring in awe as the badger bolted away from the clearing.
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 
A low yowl, so similar to that of a wolf’s howl, broke the silence. Tauntingtear turned to find it’s origination, and found Carrionsaunter’s head tilted upwards towards the sky. Mere moments later, the low yowl grew loud and victorious as others joined him. One of the last, Tauntingtear soon lifted his head and joined the showing of soft victory. He felt the sorrow of death emerge from his muzzle, memories flashing across his mind of those who had passed. Sharing snide remarks with Blizzardclaw; watching Sagepaw’s apprentice ceremony from the rock, memorizing the look of pure pride that flared in her eyes; patrolling with Bayblossom and watching the feline’s tunneling abilities grow… and so many more. It felt as though they had already come into Silverpelt, finding comfort in death in a way he could not imagine. He silently hoped they were comfortable, wherever they were.
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Then the yowl faded after many moments, cats beginning to fall out of the victorious shout and wandering off. Some began to clean their pelts, shaking the dust and blood from their pelts. Others limped in the direction of the medicine den, getting checked for various wounds. Others simply wandered, eyes glazed with thought, likely composing themselves after all that had happened thus far. Tauntingtear was about to do so when he felt pawsteps approaching him. He turned his body towards the cat, and was surprised to see the bengaled pelt of Acacialight, her head ducked submissively. She was quite beaten up, large scratches rummaged through her pelt, her tail bent and broken. The second half of her tail dragged across the dirt, and her face was twisted slightly in pain. Her voice was ragged and airy, as if the air had been completely knocked out of her lungs. Her shoulders were hunched, and at the mention of Dawnstar, her entire body tensed. Her voice grew shaky, nervous, sorrowful. Worry struck through the sire’s mind, and his entire body jerked to a straight position. He opened his mouth to speak, as a question that he assured himself would settle his worries. But simply from the look of Acacialight’s frame, it was obvious what had happened, and it sent regret and fear tearing through the tom’s pelt.
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎
He didn’t respond, and instead turned and ran towards the camp entrance, limbs extending the furthest they could. He raced through the clearing, leaping and twisting around the remains of the entrance arch and thorny wall of brambles. His gaze was set, muzzle uptwisted in a silent growl of worry. He felt the urge to get there faster, faster. He willed his body to push further, let him race through the territory and arrive at the Beacon of Repose in seconds. He let out a soft snarl as he came to the moors, increasing his speed as the worry of obstacles no longer worried him. He bounded over greenlit prairie and hill, worry clenching his heart like a clawed paw. Moors soon gave way to forested territory as he neared the border, and as he grew closer, the overwhelming scent of blood, badger, and death followed. He slowed as the scent grew stronger, stronger. Ducking his head under a fallen limb of a tree, he came to small clearing where ahead lay a small lump of bengaled fur. 
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎
His entire mind went silent, until all he could hear was the pounding of blood in his ears and the unsteady, fearful beating of his own heart. He delayed the inevitable; he delayed walking forward and recognizing the body in front of him. He waited many, many moments, simply staring at the soulless lump in front of him. FOr a second, he even searched every inch of the body, searching for the movement of life, false hope quickening his heart beat. He searched for minutes, hoping that out of nowhere, the body would jerk and Dawnstar would be there, a small chuckle erupting from her muzzle as she stood, shaking the leaves and dust from her pelt. But she didn’t. And this wasn’t Dawnstar. It was a figure, a body, a skin of the cat he knew so well. Forcing himself to move forward, he was reminded of his duty, and how he would have to do this more in the future. This was his job, and he must ensure that her body returned safely.
His pawsteps forward were slow and hesitant, creeping close to the lump of bengaled, golden fur. As he grew closer, the brutalness of her injuries allowed him to imagine the way she had died, which was quite unsettling. Her neck was twisted at an odd angle, craned outwards. Her ears tilted inwards towards her head, eyes faded and looking off into the distance. Despite the typical look of dead eyes, he could see something further in them, a look of searching. He wondered what she was doing now as StarClan healed her body, repairing it and getting it ready for her to return. He slowed beside her body, lowering his haunches and sitting beside his leader. If you were to ignore the upper part of her body, she didn’t look dead. A few scratches lay implanted in her pelt, the blood from them having dried. Her lower haunches were still and loose, as if she had lifted one leg and set it over the other in an attempt to grow more comfortable. She looked like she was sleeping, laying there without a care in the world.
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎
He sat silent, closing his eyes, for many moments. Not a part of his body moved, spare the calm rising of his chest. His tail curled around his paws, a void attempt in comforting himself as he sat a silent, personal vigil for the leader. He kept his breathing deep and patient, and just allowed his mind to wander. He ran through memories he had with Dawnstar, watching as she was made leader, and in turn, him as deputy. He scanned through happy conversations, hushed laughs within the leader’s den, pride as the clan grew. Even in the short 2 moons the damsel had been leader, it felt like such a long and special time to him. After those many moments passed, he stood, reaching down and tilting his muzzle underneath the matriarch’s belly, using momentum and his neck strength to lift Dawnstar onto his head, then rolling her down softly until she laid on his back. Shifting his weight until she lay comfortably across his back, he noticed just how light she felt in weight. It was as if the soul held such weight to the body, and without it, Dawnstar’s body was an empty and weightless shell. He sighed softly, and began the trek back to camp as he felt the warm sunlight of dawn creep through the trees and land on his head.
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎
His pawsteps were slow, which made the journey all that long. He used the time to truly think, though it was of varying topics. He imagined vigil they would all sit for the dead, and he imagined how long it would take Dawnstar to return. Perhaps by the time he returned, she would return to her body and help her clan come back to normal. He hoped and begged that StarClan could heal her wounds and repair her body in such a time. Eventually, he walked through the camp entrance, gaze somber and head tilted towards the floor. Through his ears, he could hear the surprised gasps and whimpers from the rest of his clanmates. He let the shock fade as he slowly walked to the middle of the clearing, letting cats clear away and give Dawnstar the space she deserved. Lowering his body to the ground as his underbelly brushed the damp earth, he let the matriarch’s body softly roll off his back and onto the ground. Standing, he lifted a paw to close Dawnstar’s eyes, adjusting her body only slightly so she seemed comfortable. Only sleeping, for now. He told himself, eyes closing. He lowered his haunches into a sitting position, and relaxing in the clearing silence.
Please return, Dawnstar. Your clan needs you.
Tansypaw:
Slowly, the world was growing lighter and lighter around the chaos and tumult inside the camp, though Tansypaw didn’t quite register this. The sun wasn’t bright enough to penetrate the ever-stubborn fog, merely giving the world a softer tinge. What it lit up though, was only a gruesome bloodbath. Tansypaw kept on at the badger, never giving it a moment to breath, nor a chance to take. Fighting along Skyrose, she found, came almost naturally. The pair dodged strikes, weaved around, snarled and slashed at the beast together, moving as a single unit, backing each other up. The apprentice’s fury was insurmountable, spitting and crackling with hungry flames, which flashed in her eyes and claws. As they began to beat the beast back, the ginger splashed molly felt her confidence swell, erringly. She planted her claws in deeper to the badger’s hide for a moment longer than she should’ve, intent on finally slaying the beast rather than jumping back to her mentor’s side, earning herself a nasty rake from long, bloody claws through her thick pelt, lashing her head sideways as the badger swung out wildly in terror and desperation now more than malice. It was over however, the badger was backing up into the camp walls and Tansypaw wouldn’t stop now.
Flicks of mud and soppy debris spattered her face as the badger’s claws scrambled up the gorge walls, where she and the rest of her clanmates still standing chased it. Tansypaw leapt in for a few parting nips and scratches as Skyrose clung to its haunches doing the same, before it was off, pounding and sqelching away into the fog. 
For a moment, Tansypaw stood almost dazed, staring at the spot where the mist now curled in the early gray dawn light, concleaing the badger who had just stormed off. Her ears twitched backwards on her head without moving her gaze, recognizing Carrionsaunter’s voice in his triumphant howl. Something between a laugh and a sigh shook thinly through her ribcage and then the ginger-white she-cat joined in on the celebratory yowl, raising her maw wide up into the covered sky and letting her voice break out into it with pride, relief, and revenge. She screwed up her eyes, not caring when raindrops trickled into her jaws, appreciating the coolness of the rain as success coursed through her body as if it were a tangible sensation. Take that you ugly piece of crowfood! Bet you wished you’d never laid eyes on the Clan of Sunlit Prairies now, huh! Her call was one of the last ones to peter out, low at the end, like a warning to anyone listening from outside the camp walls. Do you see us StarClan? Do you see me Valleystar? Tansypaw’s elation was dampened, however, as her eyes set their sights on the destruction of her home. Skyrose was padding off to somewhere, her gaze searching. The bodies that had appeared momentarily as her older siblings before, she could now recognize. Well, most of them. The grisly sights set her fur on end and she couldn’t look at the horror inflicted on her clanmates for too long. Bayblossom. Blizzardclaw. Smokestone? And who,,, is that Sa- wait. Where’s Dawnstar?
Her leader’s absence hit the molly then suddenly as she blinked about the clearing which seemed at the same time desolate, devoid of life, yet bustling and overcrowded with bloodied, scarred felines at the same time. Cats who were wandering about to either get out of the rain or to the medicine den. Where’s our leadership? We need- Her green eyes just manged to catch Tauntingtear’s tail disappearing out of camp then, leaving them rather than directing his clanmates, when she was almost bundled over into the mud by the exact bundle of fur Tansypaw was dying to find. 
Once Bloompaw’s sweet scent and soft fur engulfed Tansypaw, all other thoughts flew out of her head. “Bloompaw!” She cried out in uncontainable delight, tears springing instantly into her eyes. Her sister was here and she was fine and she was alive! Thank you Silkstar! Thank you StarClan! The Sentinel laughed breathily as her grey-cream littermate covered her in licks. “No! I’m fine! Really!” In reality her bruised shoulder was aching more than ever and the badger’s claws revealed themselves in glistening, red cuts and scratches where she’d gotten unlucky blows. The worst ones slithered their way from her shoulder up the side of her neck to her cheek. Though her white fur was stained with streaks of red and pink, some her own, some not, no wounds were too visible through her thick, moppy wet fur or were bleeding too profusely. She’d go see Peachpurr eventually, or Featherpaw perhaps. “And you! You’re alright, thank StarClan! You are, aren’t you?”
Now it was Tansypaw’s turn to do the inspecting. “I was so worried, when-” the ginger-white trainee’s head bobbed back up, also noticing the various distraught gasps and cries sounding off around them. She spun around, fully expecting to land her emerald eyes back upon the foul, striped pelt they had just driven off, but blinking in bewilderment at what she actually saw. 
Tansypaw’s jaw hung open at the shockingly pathetic shape of Dawnstar lolling on Tauntingtear’s shoulders. Wait,,, Her brain did a few mental gymnastics, working out what could have possibly happened to their leader. We- I left her there for dead? No, no, we all did. But,,, but she didn’t make it away from there after us? What- why did it take her so long- no- how,,. Tansypaw composed herself and swallowed, a frown paired with furrowed brows settling onto her features. She nodded in agreement to Skyrose’s question, wanting a detailed explanation from somebody. We’ll probably have to wait for Dawnstar to get back herself for it. This is,, her first life gone, yes, it must be. Resigning herself to the first death of their matriarch, the molly settled down next to Bloompaw, more in comfort for her shaken sister than anything. A leader losing a life didn’t seem as terrible as long as you knew it wasn’t their last, at least to her anyway. Dawnstar would be back. Valleystar had never come back the last time. Just, what was taking her so long? Valleystar wouldn’t,,, stop her. The dream from just last night flashed before her eyes, the anger and frustration in her mother’s lashing tail, flicking ears. No. Tansypaw shook the silly thought off, though her gaze remained warily on the battered, rosetted pelt.
Windsear:
Windsear's heart was thrumming. Just as fast as they'd arrived on the scene, the badger had as hastily fled and made it's way scrambling across the length of the moors. Though he'd bunched his muscles to spring after them, the soft chuckle escaping Carrionsaunter and a few other's maws were enough to remind him of their presence. Spinning on his pads, he stared in stunned horror and awe at the scene before him. The badger had ravaged through the camp. His heart caught in his throat as he peered around towards the limp bundles of fur. Bayblossom, Sagepaw... And oh, poor Smokestone! The black molly lay crinkled like a crushed leaf near the camp entrance, he hunched away and settled down where he was, his shoulders jutting from his pelt as he fought for air. Dancingwhisper and Brightskip were safe, he could see the pair shaking dust from their fur and spinning around to face their clanmates, their eyes mixed with the same feeling he was plastered with. How could we have been so slow? Windsear's heart felt torn, it swelled his body with heat like he was filling with it's blood. Why had he wanted to hang back for Dawnstar? If they'd returned sooner, could they have prevented all of this from happening? His claws flexed into the ground.
He wasn't a fighter, he wasn't even one of the strongest cats the clan had to offer, more he was talented. But what use was his talent for hunting and his popularity among his clanmates when they were being ravaged back at camp? He felt guilt overwhelming him, so he quickly sat up and forced himself to work.
He joined in on the yowl, his voice a haunting cheer that did not attempt to hide his blistering sorrow. He ended his after a relative reverb, his octaves trembling and his tongue flaring to force the capacity of his lungs. The song was one sung for each victory, though it drew somewhat less haunting than the one sung for the coyotes, it was still a petrifying sound, chilling him and his clanmates to an eerily frozen position as they focused their being to attention towards the stars. For Silkstar, for Dawnstar! Sunlit Prairies reigns victorious! He willed on the spoken words usually spoken during the victory, though the defeaning silence caused by Dawnstar's absence was enough to make him falter. His warm gaze was dulled with sorrow, brimmed with tears as he peeked around the clearing.
Petalpaw's pelt was visible with the kits in the nursery, who had been let go but were prevented from leaving the nursery. Featherpaw raced around anxiously with horror-stricken eyes as she tended to her clanmates, with the heavily injured cats being forced off to see the more talented Peachpurr, the only cat able to tend to such wounds in such a trying time. Rain plastered blood into the center of the clearing, collecting into puddles and soaking cats who planted paws within. Acacialight was eerily still, and he caught the bright gazes of Tansypaw and Skyrose, who seemed to check on one another before spinning to face other cats that meant the most to them. Thankfully for them, they gathered their loved ones and friends close, though Acacialight and Tarragonglaze did not get so lucky. His heart broke for them as well as the cats who now stared blankly over the bodies of their slain kin, some huddled while others sobbed heavily into their fur. The only cat who didn't have some cat mourning them was Blizzardclaw, though there did seem to be movement from somewhere around his pelt.
The Elders! His heart sunk. Had any cat gotten the elderly molly pair out of their den? The Elder's den had been completely destroyed, with Blizzardclaw flattening something that squirmed beneath. He was on his paws and pelting towards them within a heartbeat, using his jaws to rip free clumps of debris until he saw a thick, dark-grey head with a tattered ear.
Spidersilk! Her soft, feathery fur rose to tickle his nose, and he could scent her anxiety now. Scrambling back on his haunches, he shouldered open a gap and used his jaws to pull Spidersilk free, supporting her opening with his forehead and pressing his shoulder against her side to steady her exit. She scrambled out beside him, tugging with sharp claws out of the exit with Rubyfire speeding up behind her, squeezing her body out the second she caught sight of a gap to escape. Windsear blinked in surprise, but held steady until the pair had departed before he allowed Blizzardclaw's body to continue crushing the remains of the den. He sat back with a huff, his dark-red pelt flecked with heather and his small nose splintered from overgrowth. He spun his head to face the two, his eyes igniting with concern. 
"How long were you two under there, are you alright?" He breathed, his whiskers quivering as he eyed the pair warily. Before they had a chance to reply however, Tauntingtear's heavy body ripped into camp, the scent of death that overwhelmed the clearing somehow growing even more threatening. Sickness rose in his throat, and he craned his neck around to face the source, only to let out a horrified gasp and collapse into himself, his brow twisting until his face was contorted into petrified pain.
Dawnstar!
He felt claws rake across his heart. His friend, his leader, the cat he'd sworn to give his life to protect... Her beautiful body was mangled. Though her beautiful pelt was still in tact, her head swivelled and craned unnaturally and her eyes were glazed over and cloudy only briefly before Tauntingtear had rose a paw to close them. Windsear felt his heart swelling with grief. No... I knew it! We never should have left her alone with that wretched thing! What kind of clan cats are we?! Guilt thrummed in his chest in a pounding pace of pain like paws attempting to break into his chest. Dawnstar of all cats, the most selfless cat he'd ever known- she'd willingly given her life for them? But why? He forced his claws into the ground, his muzzle twisting painfully. By now Acacialight had crouched over and was trembling over her body, wailing and sobbing as violently as any daughter grieving should. It only taunted him more. She's so young! He couldn't believe his eyes. Silkstar, how could you allow this? Would Lavendersnow return with answers? Why wouldn't Starclan attempt to warn them? He raked his claws across the sand in his swelling wrap of emotions, though he tried to force his body to steady, he felt himself swaying. We trained together, we shared the same den. Why am I seeing her dead so soon? Why would Starclan allow a leader to die so soon? And why hadn't she come back already? And where's Lavendersnow?
There were plenty of questions to be answered, and he figured they'd start the second another set of paws strummed into camp.
He craned his neck to see Lavendersnow, who arrived though her expression only lit with faint surprise. Her maw never twitched as she padded slowly into camp, her movements almost static as she eyed each edge of camp, her blue eyes swam with thought as she paced herself through the scene. She must know, then. He thought, assuring himself with a lap on the chest. Starclan did have something to say on it. Why else would she seem so... Calm? His ears twitched at her exchange with Acacialight. By that point, cats had gathered around, staring in combined awe for Lavendersnow and whatever news she might have to share about Starclan's thoughts on the attack, as well as a heavy, stunned grief for the lost leader. The scene brought over plenty of attention, much of which Lavendersnow had never been quite fond of. She was quick to shrug away, blocking her gaze as she forced her mind immediately to work. He faltered slightly, capping his own gaping maw and shifting uncomfortably. Right. There's work to be done, why am I so concerned about the word of Starclan when there's injured cats here? 
He craned his neck back towards Spidersilk and Rubyfire, who he had not left the side of. He pressed close, sniffing them over and eyeing their pelts carefully, his eyes swimming with mixing thought and concern. "Are you two alright?"
Ginsengpaw:
    Gray-tinted eyes round as twin moons, Ginsengpaw pricked her ears at the older calico’s absent-minded reply, feeling doubt nag at her mind still. Had she really done well? Dawnstar, Bayblossom, Smokestone, Sagepaw— the tortoiseshell fought to keep the bile that rose in her throat down, the tang of herbs that covered her scratches suddenly sickeningly strong. Ginsengpaw had seen her denmate torn to shreds, until all that remained of the brown young she was a ugly, bloody red stain, tufts of her fur, still kit-soft, strewn across the camp. The she-cat forced herself to swallow her guilt, eyes glossy with salty tears that threatened to drown her vision once again.
   They raised their mottled head when Beepaw continued, her veins running cold as she thought of her own kin. Is Cavernpaw okay? Is she— 
   No. She’s strong. I have to be strong too now. She reassured herself, raising a bloodied and mud-streaked paw despite her muscles shrieking in protest, trying to dab away the tears that seeped from her denmates yellow eyes.
   She was heart-beats too slow, however, pulling away when Beepaw shook her spotted head. “He’ll be okay.” She murmured, trying to force her hoarse voice to sound like a Queens. What did Azaleanectar sound like? Or Sandmumble? 
   She sounded like a bee when she was telling us stories. A quiet humming. How in Silkstar’s name did all the mother’s on earth manage? A vague frown coming over her, she allowed her head to drop back down, her dew-covered whiskers twitching. All these emotions weren’t doing good for her current tattered state, and despite her wounds being now cleaned and dressed with poultices, her spotted limbs were stiff with exhaustion.
“But we need to help all those cats, don’t we?” Ginsengpaw protested weakly at the pale calico’s suggestion, her voice trembling despite her cold determination. She felt warmer with the larger cat pressed against her even though rain still dotted the land, somehow so much better at being a source of comfort than Ginsengpaw could imagine - hadn’t the two she-cat’s been almost completely strangers just hours ago? Sure, they’d passed each other in camp, or occasionally played in the Nursery, but outside of that, there was no deeper bond between them, and absolutely no reason to be so Starclan-cursed kind to her. 
   “It’s our duty.” They persisted, her eyes flickering to the dull, vigil-like gathering occurring tail-lengths away. “We should at least pay our respects.” They whispered faintly, her heart pounding in her ears.
Littleflame:
The ginger tom stared out at the clearing with his hazel eyes wide and flame pelt spiking like the leaves of a holly bush. Littleflame had refused to leave the security of his nest for the entirety of the massacre that had occurred tail-lengths away, even when Frostytaiga had raced away at the first agonized caterwauls and battle cries of his Clanmates, instead cowering down with pinned ears — after all, he was no well-seasoned fighter, he was just an ordinary Tracker. He had only dared to rip his claws from the moss littering the Tracker’s den floor when the haunting victory song had been raised, cats big and small raising their voices to the sky. The grin and bubbly demeanor that usually hung over the small tom seemed to fall away like frail flowers withering away from a blazing sun — and that was how the young cat felt staring over at the destruction left behind, as if his fur was crawling with fire ants. Blood - far too much of it - had seeped into the sand, painting it an angry scarlet, tufts of fur and flesh were strewn across the surface. Only when they lifted their gaze to the first victims that caught his eye did he truly feel the need to vomit despite the sickening scent of badger that hung in the air — a crumpled Smokestone lay like a defenseless piece of prey, and tail-lengths away the bloodied corpse - or what remained of it - of Sagepaw, clumps of brown fur sticky with blood. Littleflame felt cold to his core, his orange fur now plastered to his body from the slowing rain that wept from the heavens.
   And Dawnstar. 
Dawnstar, the charismatic bengal leader the Sunlit Prairies knew and (mostly) adored, lay set out as if on display, her neck still visibly snapped despite attempts to make the leader seem graceful, even in death. Littleflame could make out Tauntingtear and Acacialight from the blur of his tears, along with Petalpaw and Tarragonglaze, paying their respects to the spotted she. He felt a stab of pity for the young bengal she-cat that was hunched over Dawnstar’s still form— she and her brother were surely not taking their mother’s parting well, however many lives she may have. 
    Littleflame, although still wrapped in his sympathy for the mourners, felt his heart seem to skip a beat. Bayblossom. The thought struck him like an attacking hawk, wrapping its talons into his lungs until the only way he could breath was in trembling gasps. Blinking rain and tears from his eyes he whipped around, searching for his littermates silver fur. He fought the urge to cry out, his throat tightening as he could only glimpse the red and gray frames of Bloompaw and Tansypaw, and the stumbling form of a tortoiseshell he didn’t quite recognize. 
   Where is she? They froze, relief flooding over him like a landslide when he caught sight of a silver paw, near the large stone where announcements were made - patrols, ceremonies, news.. 
   Littleflame dashed over towards the paw, his breath hitching in his throat. The cat indeed was Bayblossom, darker stripes of gray coursing through a sea of silver — but the she-cat was still. Very still, suspiciously still, deathly still. Her yellow eyes were glazed over and unseeing, chest not rising and falling. A sob ripped his way from the Trackers chest, crouching down beside his littermate and vigorously shaking her. “Wake up, wake up.” He demanded, his desperation getting the best of him. “This isn’t funny anymore.” 
   This was a joke. It had to be one of his sisters tricks again. Any moment now she’d leap up and tackle him, purring.
Littleflame lifted his sisters head, swallowing the sickness that rose from his throat. The bodies neck was broken. It was like she was a piece of prey, her life ripped away from her before she could have had a chance to fight back, or run away, or cry out for help. “Bayblossom. Bayblossom, wake up. Wake up wake up wake up—” His voice cracked, and he collapsed next to the Tunnelers cold pelt. All his previous grudges, distance, everything he had held against Bayblossom evaporated like mist, instead replaced by his simple plea to Starclan. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even get to tell you i’m so sorry—”
   Why had she deserved this? Why had he deserved this? First Mudmoss, snatched away by a bird of prey, and now Bayblossom, torn away from her kin. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”
Peachpurr:
Peachpurr’s eyes dropped to the ground as Lavendersnow stood up, the radiating warmth that had rolled off the snowshoe moving away as she did. The Siamese swallowed, resolve hardening like ice in her eyes as they flickered back up to Pigeonpaw’s crumpled form for a heartbeat before turning around once more. She would not freely hand the little kit over to those vultures waiting for him in the stars, they may claim him in the end, but they won’t through the use of her own paws. She would sit by him, or lie down next to him, and stay there until he departed. Soon as no one else is in immediate need of me, that is. She could recall how the tiny scrap of fur arrived in camp just a few moons ago, carried in by a patrol with no mother, no littermates for company, only a moon old at the time. At the very least, he deserved to have that motherly comfort he was robbed of for much of his life, before it was over. Peachpurr blinked admiringly as Lavendersnow gently dropped Silvershrine into a nest next to his twin, picking up the lanky warrior that the flame-point couldn’t even hope to budge as if they weighed almost nothing to her. The medicine cat was touched, doubly after hearing the kind words spoken from the usually stoic and gruff Nurse. “Thank you,” she mewed genuinely, “i appreciate that,” giving her a worn, melancholy smile. The reassurances echoed her own in her head from earlier, though it was different hearing them come from someone else. More real and true somehow, but always with the afterthought that her best just wasn’t good enough then, if that was the case. 
Peachpurr’s ears stood upright on her head, eyes clearing with interest as Lavendersnow continued on. The StarClan meeting, you silly, old dolt! “Now the pots calling the kettle black,” she mewed in return, her smile fading away again as she went on. “You couldn’t possibly have known somethin’ like this was going to happen, dear. No one could.
Besides what’s done is done, no use beating ourselves up with what if’s and the like.” She bit back her questions about Lavendersnow’s dream visit as the larger molly began herding patients away to be treated nearer the entrance, picking up that something hadn’t exactly gone off hitch free on her end either. Peachpurr finished wrapping up the cat that had stood waiting for her attention, a particularly nasty scratch running along their entire flank. After she’d sent them off, with the same advice Lavendersnow was dolling out, the medicine cat pulled herself up and began sweeping up the scraps of crushed leaves and trails of cobwebs scattered about the den, piling those supplies as were still fit for use into neat piles. The den was painted with blood, smeared across the floor where Shatteredrose had been dragged in, dripping trails of it ran crisscrossing left and right highlighting where cats had stood or walked, and pools of it were already collecting here and there where the moss could no longer absorb all of it. I’ll clean this whole catastrophe up later, she grimaced. She hadn’t seen anything as bad as this since the coyote attack. 
Lavendersnow was working through the crowd of patients with blazing efficiency it seemed, but it was just such, a crowd, and that would take a good bit of time. Peachpurr, grateful to the Nurse for relieving her of the duty, took the liberty to slip past her for a look outside momentarily, with a twitch of her tail to indicate she’d be back in a jiffy. Though laying her eyes on the destruction she’d surely find outside was one of the last things she wanted to do in the moment, she knew that as the Clan’s physical medicine cat, she couldn’t just hole herself away from frightful sights like a kit.
Frankly, the Siamese was used to grisly scenes and could stomach gore, but after a day of treating apprentices with concussions, tunnelers with wrecked bodies and water-logged lungs, only to follow with a night of warriors spilling their guts onto her floor and kits dying at her paws while her clanmates screamed for their lives outside? It could wear any cat down to the bone. She’d seen enough blood for one day. And now with the memories of the ravages left behind by the coyote attack, Peachpurr readied herself for the worst as her eyes adjusted to the new light of day. Blizzardclaw, Sharpsun, and what was left of Sagepaw were still laying as she’d found them earlier, but as she’d expected, the death toll had risen. Padding forth a few steps, the flame-point could make out Bayblossom lying by the high rock with her sobbing brother crouched over her, his piercing wails stabbing clean through all whose hearts could hear him. Closer to the tall grass, Peachpurr could only identify Smokestone from the markings of her pelt, for her head lay crumpled and squished into the mud, like a berry. She felt sick to her stomach at the sight. The camp was in utter shambles, just as it had been after the coyotes. And at the center of it all, with a crowding of grievors surronding her, lay Dawnstar. When did she get here,,? The medicine cat wondered numbly, padding forward with shivering breath until she stood just behind the matriach’s closest freinds and family. The rossetted molly looked peaceful, compared to the other bodies strewn about camp still laying in their dying positions. She was laid and wrapped gently as if she were merely asleep in a deep slumber. Bowing her head low, Peachpurr stood with her eyes closed for a few minutes, and had the clearing been quieter, those closest to her might’ve picked up the whispers uttered under her breath. 
Raising her face once more, Peachpurr cast one last glance towards her leader’s limp form,
her eyes glassy as she slipped quietly past the wreckage and back into her den. She was back beside Pigeonpaw, sitting ducked over him in order to lap his ravaged pelt with as tender strokes of her tongue as a mother could’ve done, when Lavendersnow had finished her task that had begun to seem without an ending and rejoined her at the apprentice’s side. She blinked up at the now green-tinted snowshoe at her sigh. “Well,, thank you dear, that’s very sweet. I don’t know anythin’ about Silkstar’s honorin’ me, but I’ll take your word for it. And I’d like a few answers on the whole matter as well, if you manage to get them and if I may trouble you for them.” She took Lavendersnow’s words to heart, she really did trust the molly’s opinion of these things and she would do her best to stay unthwarted, yet ever the uncontrollable squeaking in the back of her head droned out again: no. A miss is as good as a mile. “I think I will rest a bit, here with Pigeonpaw-“ she barely got the sentence out before a yawn escaped her maw as well, a slowing weariness beginning to tug at her, speaking of the topic of rest. The medicine cat noticed though Lavendersnow’s intense gaze flicking over to Shallowshrine’s nest and smiled to herself at the Nurse’s secrecy, before a shadow of seriousness cloaked her face suddenly. “Lavendersnow,” she whispered then, dropping her own voice to a matching hush, “did you- was everything in order at your meeting tonight?” She knew how secretive the Nurse’s StarClan meetings were, and that they couldn’t be discussed with just anyone, but well, her curiosity still got the better of her to make her ask. What had StarClan to say on all this, she would very much like to know. A badger attacking camp in the dead of night while both their Leader and Nurse were away, when cats were supposed to be awaiting the tidings of the stars, what a cruel twist of fate was this?
Halfdusk:
At the edge of camp lay a large den, protected by condensed walls of brambles, moss, and branches. A light and beautiful arrangement of vines cover the entrance entirely, forcing the eye away from the composed zone. Within, however, was a welcoming den of tunnels decorated with brightly colored flowers and sweet-smelling herbs. Similar to a hive’s nest, a cat was berated at the entrance by a network of finely-dug tunnels branching off and swarming in various directions. Lining the tunnels were compacted shelves of dirt and mud, used as holding places for herbs, flowering plants, and other important articles that belonged to the nurses and medicine cats. The den was sweet smelling, though quite confusing on the nose. To a cat with a fine sense, the faint smell of death lingered in certain nooks and crannies of the dens along with the metallic scent of blood, but it was clear that all was done to hide this horrid scent with strong lavender, sage, and mint. Overall, it was a welcoming assortment of beauty and safety, with the smiling faces of felines only following it.
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Deep within the den, through a tunnel much less decorated than the rest, the opposite was clear. A small color-patched tom lay huddled in a corner, ears laid back and tail curling around his forepaws. He seemed to clutch himself in a tight hug, a silent beg for the comfort and safety that his surroundings couldn’t seem to provide. Eyes as wide as a deer, his gaze was set with fury and annoyance, but behind it lay the bright light of fear. The fur along his spine and neck held high, muscles tightening as if the feline was waiting to spring in one direction. Considering his pure terror, an unaware cat would assume the poor tom was afraid of confined spaces, but that was not it. Outside the welcoming den of sweet swells and comforting silence lay the opposite.
Past the hive of tunnels and draping vines, a war raged through the misty night. The screams of fury, terror, and pain echoed off the valley, hisses following them like lighting and thunder. A mound of white and black fur hurtled and threw its weight in all directions, large arms swinging through the clearing as it aimed at teeth-bared felines. Rain poured from the cloudy skies, the wind quickening the job and sending the frigid drops in every direction. With it came the unsheathed claws of the Clan of Sunlit Prairies, their eyes flashing with determination, and fear. The badger reacted in time, glaring and snapping at all of its oppressors, attacks strong and unyielding. While the pure number of cats was vast, it seemed that nothing would drive away the blood-thirsty predator.
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Within the den, Halfdusk clung to his life and sanity like a kitten holding on to its mother. THough the sound of war was much more muffled from within the den, the poor tom could imagine it happening before his very eyes. He saw the clanmates he protected so fearlessly following and being torn apart by the ragged beast, the camp he knew and loved crumbling apart as the unthinkable weight of the badger collapsed into dens. His entire being was threatened by this predator, and he could do nothing about it. He was no sentinel, no tunneler, not even the equivalent of a trainee in this sorry moment. He was a kit, a useless excuse for a clan member. All he could hope was that by some miracle, StarClan would save them, save them all. He could only wait within the den of doom, hope and pray that someone would be left, and that he could heal the traumas that would lay before him, even while facing his own.
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As a mental medicine cat, he had never truly been taught to fight. Though his mentor had been vicious and cunning, it had all seemed to be with words. Their way of teaching was violent, they would often come to attack and hit their apprentices with such fury it was unimaginable. But despite the everyday showing of attack., Halfdusk had never learned it, had never brought himself to learn it. From the moment he was old enough to understand it, the multi-colored tom learned he could not bring himself to attack, to bring pain upon another. This quality shone in him as a young feline, and it was obvious to his parents he could never be a regular clanmate. Though he was originally trained to be a moor runner with his long limbs and short-fur, it was clear he could never do it. His parents didn’t let go of it at first, forcing him to come to terms with the fact that he would have to hunt, have to bring death to a small animal, but poor Halfpaw could not. But an unexplainable sighting and explanation from the young tom immediately brought him to the paws of Twilightplume, where he was trained. It seemed that destiny had befallen him from a young age, but the suddenness was simply unexplainable. However, it soon became clear that a mental medicine cat was just right for Halfdusk.
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Halfdusk lay in the curled up position for a long, long time. As the screams and cries grew in intensity, he could only bring his paws up and force his ears closed, begging for some of the sound to be trapped away. His breathing became quick, hopeful, terrified as it all continued. His eyelids grew heavy, and soon he closed them. Moments later he drifted off into sleep, one of nightmares and terror.  He awoke eventually, and was shocked to no longer hear the cries and screams, the pitter patter of rain against the earth. Instead, all he could hear was a solemn, yet victorious howl. The sound was confusing, but it soon became clear that the voices were those of felines, and they belonged to his clanmates. Their voices held a sense of defeat, but the intensity their tones carried screamed victory. Halfdusk got to his feet quickly, racing through the tunnels and barreling through the entrance of the den, gaze hopeful and with begging.
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There was nothing that could’ve killed Halfdusk’s spirit faster than the sight of the clearing. Within moments of stepping through the vines that shielded the entrance, the overpowering stench of blood flooded his nose. The metallic ring behind the awful smell sent shivers down his spine, and the light of his hope flickered. His paw flew to his nose within milliseconds, an attempt at shielding himself from the sickening scent. He felt bile rising up his throat as he gagged, the fur around his neck bristling. His tail stiffened, fur growing tall as it bristled. He felt the urge to turn and run, cower inside the medicine den once again, but he forced himself to plant his paws and stay put, letting himself take in the madness. As he composed himself, he let his gaze rise to the clearing, but no comfort lay there for him. Torn clumps of fur, skin, and insides littered the clearing. Dark red stained the ground, a thing no rain could truly wash away. The bodies of fallen clanmates scattered like bird feathers, strewn atop dens and against each other. Most were unrecognizable, their features mangled and broken, eyes faded in death. Once glorious pelts were mottled with dust and blood, and their bodies no longer held the beauty of life. Despite their horrid condition, halfdusk recognized too many of them. Sagepaw, Bayblossom, Smokestone, Blizzardclaw… The names continued as his gaze scanned each body, recognition flaring, a hopeful light of a flame, before shattering as their death was ensured. The bodies were too many to count, and each one sent a stilling stab through the mental medicine cat’s heart. Above the bodies were bluish-green wisps of light, assembling into a copy of the corpse.
Gleaming, these whisps soon rose to the sky, and with them, any ounce of hope within Halfdusk’s heart. He felt his heart shatter too, the pain of it all being too much. His head rose to the cloudy sky, the quiet glimpse of morning rising over the horizon. On any other day, the beauty would’ve memorized him, but now it felt like a mocking sneer from the earth. Why StarClan? What did we do? Howcould* you?*
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As his gaze fell from the sky and returned to the clearing, he looked to the side, hoping to see others in a similar situation to him, grief taking hold of their heart like it did his. Instead, he was shocked to see the large, stormy-gray form of Tauntingtear padding towards the clearing, a mound of fur atop his back. A flicker of surprise flared across the tom’s gaze, and he took a curious step forward. He felt the muscles in his back tense, as if preparing for anymore bad news. Part of him felt prepared; surely nothing could be worse than this, right? His clanmates had lost their lives to a beast who had no thought for them; a beast whose mind had been gone since the moment it came into this world. It felt no emotion, no care as it tore through their bodies, taking apart the beings he had come to care for so fervently. Surely, nothing could be worse than what that monster had done.
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But as the deputy made his way forward, gently lowering the body onto the ground, Halfdusk felt recognition become ablaze in his mind. The gorgeous, bengal pelt felt too familiar to him. Though the neck of the feline was quite clearly broken, the cat still held the beautiful integrity it had when living. A slender tail hung from the torso, brushing against the dusty earth as the body was lowered and rested on the clearing ground. As Tauntingtear moved away from the body after arranging it in a way that seemed peaceful, Halfdusk was finally able to get a look at the cat’s facial features. A gasp took hold of his heart, and for a moment, he didn’t breath. Agony twisted his mind, and his usually-hardened expression softened with grief. No, no no no… Halfdusk swallowed, holding down a sob that semed to rack his entire body as he forced it down. Please, StarClan, let me be imagining things. But he wasn’t. In front of him lay the body of Dawnstar, matriarch and leader of the Clan of Sunlit Prairies. As others sprang forward, cries of grief and agony slipping out of their mouths as they fell at her feet, Halfdusk froze in place. His only movement was as cats barreled past him to show their respect to the fallen leader. Hushed whispers, prayers, and sobs began to fill the clearing, only split by cries of anger as others furiously asked what had happened. The mental medicine cat just watched, unable to process what lay in front of him.
Lavendersnow’s speaking broke his silence, and he turned his head towards her, but did not respond. What was he to say? He had cowered in the medicine den anyway.
‎‎‎‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎He waited quite a while in the clearing as other cats drifted off towards their dens, licking wounds and checking on loved ones as morning grew near and arrived. Only when few remained at Dawnstar’s body did he trudge forward, limbs heavy, kneeling beside the fallen leader. Beside him was Tauntingtear, his body stiff in a sitting position. Halfdusk knew the deputy well enough to know he would wait for her return, no matter how long it took. Others lingered nearby, but most had finally retreated. He lowered completely to a forward-laying position, resting his chin on the dusty earth. Closing his eyes, he let memories wash over him as he continued the heavenly reverence for his leader, a silent vigil of respect.
Skyrose:
Skyrose stayed where she was, standing now, instead of sitting, as Lavendersnow continued her examination of the leader. Her tail-tip twitched low around her ankles, impatience and irritation clear in the movement. It was the only visible emotion; otherwise, her face was nearly as hard as stone and her pelt barely twitched. Anger was the most likely emotion now brewing softly in her slashed chest. She was angry at herself for not being there to stop Dawnstar losing a life; she was angry at the patrol for not protecting the leader; she was angry at Acacialight, for reasons she didn't know clearly enough yet; and she was angry at Lavendersnow, of all cats, who was actively helping the Bengal molly, but was also in the way. The last could have been blanketed over all of the cats gathered. She was itching, internally scratching, to be closer to Dawnstar and hiss and growl until all the others had gone. Even knowing the Nurse was helping her, Skyrose felt like the pretty she-cat was nothing but a nuisance, a beetle through the brush alerting a piece of prey to the approaching cat. Before this line of thinking could go darker--she could smush the beetle beneath her paw, for instance--she tried to divert her attention to more trivial things. Or, maybe just less violent things. She forced herself to sit down again.
What was it like to die? Okay, maybe that wasn't so trivial or any less violent (depending on the death), but it was better than the feeling of frustration that had been threatening to suck her down. Her eyes became slightly unfocused, hearing the conversation between Lavendersnow and Dawnstar almost as if she were under water.
Lavendersnow was suddenly whisking away, the darker spots of her pelt being highlighted in the ever strengthening sun. The Sentinel flickered her gaze in time to see Dawnstar spare her a glance, could hear the purr in the dear leader's throat as Acacialight snuggled against her in the Nurse's place. She thought, briefly, that Dawnstar had looked at her with concern. Then, Lavendersnow was back, allowing the Matriarch to suck precious water out of a patch of moss. Isn't Dawnstar brave, to have to die nine times for her Clan? I don't think I could die so many times... It was a weak thought, a rarity for Skyrose. But it was a jarring truth.
She was distracted again from her own thoughts at the sound of Dawnstar's speaking. Something in her chest cracked a little at the croaking rattle of her leader's voice, and she noted that Lavendersnow immediately left again with the moss. Her flicking tail-tip stilled as the Bengal's sights were set on her. "Skyrose." Skyrose wanted to kill the badger then, with the single breath of her name escaping her leader's maw. Dutiful, the white feline rose to her paws for a second time, summoned forward and inclined her head respectfully. She listened to the instructions with pricked ears, her mismatched eyes widening a smidge at the request. She almost wanted to protest. Shouldn't some other cat do it? Her sliver of doubt washed away, replaced quickly by budding pride and ambition. In her past lives, she had no room for ambition or want to grow in a Clan. Now, with Dawnstar looking at her so imploringly with her golden-brown eyes, she felt lighter and hungrier. Clearing her own throat, Skyrose prepared to respond. Before she could, even in Dawnstar's small lapse, the she-cat's kicker added took the white she-cat by shock. She processed the rolling emotions it produced in her gut as the leader rose her voice to the other Clan cats.
Skyrose surveyed the clearing as the leader spoke outwardly. She knew, just by looking, who had fallen to the badger's claws. Though she had no personal relationships in the Clan, she tried her best to know every cat by name, even if she did not know them. Her voice was almost clipped as she replied, "Of course, Dawnstar. We lost... Sagepaw, Smokestone, Bayblossom, and Blizzardclaw." Sharpsun's body was here too, but she had seen him before the battle. It was unrelated. "Of the injured, I'm not entirely sure, I may have to get back to you on that. I believe I saw Shatteredrose and Pigeonpaw taken to the medicine cat den, not sure on their conditions. I'll make an announcement in a moment to those that haven't heard. I'm sure they'll appreciate the break. The camp can wait."
The white she-cat then paused, a contemplative look crossing her face. She glanced quickly at the two siblings and the deputy, then rumbled softly, "I am.. glad that you have woken, Dawnstar. You need your rest as well. The Clan can wait for an official announcement from you until you feel better. If you need anything else, don't hesitate to get me." She nearly smiled, her lips quirking into more of a smirk instead. "I will get my wounds checked out after the announcement too."
Skyrose turned away from the leader, her expression flattening. Her skin prickled uncomfortably as she thought of the three cats, and who knew who else, seeing her usual mask slip and reveal other emotions. Her strength was failing her slowly, slipping from her muscles into the earth. She would need to eat and rest soon too, and get her wounds looked at. She sighed, then trotted a little farther, more towards the concentration of cats rebuilding the camp. Then, squaring her shoulders, the Sentinel raised her voice, relieved to hear it did not wobble.
"Clanmates! Dawnstar is awake and being cared for. In the meantime, listen to me." Her words were sharp and authoritative, surprising herself. It was her mentor-voice. This was easy. "Stop working on the camp repairs. Every cat needs to make sure they get their wounds checked out, then get something to eat. There should be plenty for every cat, but you may share as well. We all need to rest. The camp repairs can begin again after we're all feeling better. That's an order." They weren't pretty words, or truly reassuring, but she had carried out what she needed to do. Keeping her head high, and showing purpose, Skyrose headed to the fresh kill pile herself, picking out a fat squirrel and taking it nearby to eat. Her mismatched eyes flicked around the camp, almost like a challenge. Eat, rest, heal wounds. Directly from Dawnstar.
Time-Skip a moon, after Smokestone has been buried.
Dancingwhisper:
A dying flame that once consumed her chest flickered, struck by an invisible ember. It flared to life, growing large and crawled its way up her throat as her entire body tensed. The badger attack, the badger attack… Her sorrow, the flame of fury, all of the emotions that coincided with that event were consuming, and they took over all of her mental being. She tore her gaze away from Windsear, and noted perhaps the tiniest amount of shock that resonated in his gaze. Had he noticed? She wanted to claw the emotions outwards, they were heavy and they hurt too much. She had felt this a couple times throughout the moon, the aftershock of the attack having melted away, being replaced by a fury of complicated emotions that threatened to tear her from the inside out. All she could think of in this moment, all she could see, were the torn and ravaged bodies of so many clanmates…  the bloodied, raggled body of Blizzardclaw strewn across the top of the elder’s den, then watching as the den collapsed, smashing Spidersilk and Rubyfire beneath it; the torn, unrecognizable corpse of Sagepaw, pieces thrown in every direction, the badger’s bloodied face hovering, an excited gleam in the monster’s cold eyes; the smashed, obliterated skull of Smokestone, crushed by the badger’s paw; and the bloodied wounds of Pigeonpaw and Shatteredrose, the once glorious light in their eyes fading into a dark coldness, each of their heads falling to the ground limply as their souls passed on…
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She remembered the absolute terror she felt for Windsear, who had already been injured, and she remembered watching him, petrified, as he fought, the silent winces he kept in his eyes and the fear lodged behind that pain. And she could do nothing but take out her fury on the badger, hoping and praying that just maybe, the badger would be thrown off and leave them alone. And when it had finally left, for good, she remembered the ||limp, snapped figure of Dawnstar, who’s head lay awkwardly, her neck twisted in an unnatural position that forced vomit up her throat. The grief and sorrow that rippled through the clearing as every clanmate noticed their dead leader before them, Acacialight and Tarragonglaze running forward, their voices strewn with screams and sobs. Tauntingtear and Halfdusk, along with many other close felines to Dawnstar, padded forward, heads hung solemnly and their eyes a shattered pane of emotions. It was all too much, this memory, and she had to force it back down into the pit of her mind, where it would fester and rot until she truly dealt with the emotions that came with it. She couldn’t bear it now, not in public, where the members of the Clan were slowly waking from their slumbers.
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However, there was something that worried her more than the aftermath of the battle, though quite frankly, it did have something to do with what occurred immediately after the battle. While Dawnstar recovered within StarClan, the Clan had bonded together to begin repairing the camp. Those who were injured retreated to the medicine den, where Lavendersnow, Halfdusk, and Peachpurr worked tirelessly to attempt and fix the bloodied bodies that swarmed into their den. Dancingwhisper had immediately ran to Windsear, begging StarClan that he was alright, and had ran her nose down every part of him, ensuring that not one part of him was injured. She remembered now she had been crying, forcing herself to believe that he was going to be okay. Her breathing had been shallow - rapid, petrified with the idea of losing the one person she felt cared for her anymore. Against her better judgment, she had nuzzled her cheek against his as she realized he would be alright, and entwined her tail with his, cautiously. She had rambled on and on about how he should’ve been more careful, and how overjoyed she was to see he was okay. She had looked to face them, hoping she hadn’t freaked him out. At that moment, of course she had felt the overbearing emotions of guilt and self-hatred crash down upon her thoughts, but she held them off long enough to enjoy this moment, the safety that wrapped her into a deep hug, knowing that Windsear was safe. They had spoken for a short time, before they both went their own way. Dancingwhisper had immediately ran to repair the dens that had been wrecked in the attack, running from camp to the forest to find heather, moss, and twigs that could repair the mess. She had worked tirelessly, and only stopped when Dawnstar awoke, and had something to say to the Clan. She had listened intently, but what she heard sent shock-waves down her spine.
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"Starclan's influence on us cannot be ignored. We must strengthen our connection through prayer- and through acts of offerings to Silkstar. We must make it clear that this was not our intention, to ward them off our territory. From now on- if you suspect a clanmate of disrespecting Starclan, or choosing to deny Silkstar a passage into their heart- you will bring this to me immediately. Without Starclan, we are destined for failure. They have proven that with the badger attack. Without Silkstar's protection over us, we are to be lost, if not to this weather, then to hungry animals that we will not have the strength for long to withhold. It is imperative that each and every cat plays their part."
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She had immediately looked over to Windsear, hoping to see the expression on her face on hers, but his expression was unreadable, his eyes a swirl of complicated emotions she couldn’t read. She assumed her own eyes were similar, but it worried her. Part of Dawnstar’s demand made sense, StarClan was important - its influence impossible to ignore. But offerings for Silkstar? Prayer? None of this seemed right… few cats truly prayed often (other than the nurse and medicine cats), and not once had she heard of offerings offered to their ancestors. What had gotten into Dawnstar? Leafbare was right on their tails, they couldn’t waste precious hunting time on ‘offering and prayer’ nonsense. And punishment for disrespecting StarClan? Surely she was being dramatic, this couldn’t be real. But she wasn’t not being dramatic, and this was completely real. Shallowshrine was reported by Carrionsaunter after a patrol, having not said thanks to StarClan aloud. The poor tom was forced to sit through a mock-ceremony with every member of the Clan, where Dawnstar blatantly and without mercy humiliated and bit mockery at Shallowshrine, forcing him to prove his loyalty to her and StarClan through a vow. Dawnstar could not have shown more disrespect to the silver-furred tom, it was sickening. Dawnstar had encouraged felines to throw their own words in Shallowshrine’s direction, but few said anything. Dancingwhisper had watched Shallowshrine as tears of fury and grief sprung under his eyes, and it only got worse. Dawnstar punished the poor tom with a week of no prey, and was given many tasks to complete before the half-moon. Since then, every cat has tread extremely cautious, knowing the wrath that could come from Dawnstar if they disobey. Dancingwhisper couldn’t help the pity she felt for Shallowshrine, and had to force herself from not speaking with him.
Dawnstar stated that anyone who sided with Shallowshrine would be punished, and now Dancingwhisper knew that someone was always watching. She had glared at Carrionsaunter from behind his back, sending silent curses in his direction. He was cocky, sure, but never once had she thought he would throw a clanmate under the bus for Dawnstar’s favor.
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So, in the last moon, Dancingwhisper had avoided interaction with anyone. She was too cautious, too terrified to do something wrong, and become another Shallowshrine in the eyes of Dawnstar. She retreated to her den early each night, and spent all of the daylight hours working as hard as she could; hunting till her muscles ached, repairing the camp entrance and dens until her paws were covered in splinters and thorns, and yet she didn’t complain. She couldn’t. She didn’t even speak with Windsear, though her heart begged her to; she yearned to complain and beg him to feel the same… but considering how close the golden-furred tom was to Dawnstar, she hadn’t even tried. What if Windsear was just another Carrionsaunter now? What if he would spill any mistake she made to Dawnstar, and Dancingwhisper would be punished infinitely? The thought sent shivers of fear down her spine… Dawnstar would tear her apart. Shallowshrine was strong, he took punishment well; but Dancingwhisper did not. She would sob on the spot, beg for forgiveness, and only make it worse by showing her weakness, her inability to take any corrections. She would be polluted in every clan member’s mind, and the idea scared her into a life of silence, even from Windsear.
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Except for today. Something about today just felt… different. Her fears were partially silenced today, and she had to beg her wellbeing not to run over to Windsear, drag him out by the tail and force him to spend time with her. She was starving from social interaction, self-imposed of course, but with him next to Dawnstar… she was cautious. Part of her didn’t even want to hunt today, she just wanted to talk with him. But considering Dawnstar’s current mood and way of imposing dominance, she had a feeling that wouldn’t fly with her. So Dancingwhisper had two options - wait for Windsear to leave Dawnstar’s side, or ask him out on a hunting trip. The first one, quite honestly, probably wouldn’t be happening. Windsear and Tauntingtear have been the closest to Dawnstar since the attack (save her children and Lavendersnow, of course), and they barely left her side to eat and sleep. However, if she waited for Windsear to leave and do something else, she could ask him then - and then, she could be honest. But then again, perhaps Windsear is another Carrionsaunter, and would immediately tattle-tail and tell Dawnstar. That thought alone made Dancingwhisper want to retreat into her den and hide her muzzle under her tail. Now the second option… it was risky. Perhaps Dawnstar asked into the meaning of their hunting trip, where they would go, when they’d return… that would shock Dancingwhisper into an awkward and embarrassing silence. Plus, asking him on a hunting trip would quite honestly be lying. She only wanted to talk to Windsear. But considering that she may be able to lead both Dawnstar and Windsear on about the hunting trip, it seemed to be the least likely to get her in major trouble. An awkward, hushed chuckle formed within her throat. She felt like a mischievous apprentice, trying to find the best way to take out their ‘evil plan’.
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With a deep, slow breath, she got to her paws and kept her gaze low to the floor. She wasn’t quite ready to look at Windsear, what if he was hurt by being ignored? She had avoided him like the plague after all, and the idea of his pain made her wince. But she still couldn’t be sure if he would out her like Carrionsaunter had to Shallowshrine, so she would rather be safe than ultimately sorry. She waited patiently across from Dawnstar until their conversation naturally faded, before Dancingwhisper looked at Dawnstar instead of Windsear. She shivered uncomfortably under the matriarch’s sharp, golden gaze which seemed to be searching for any imperfection, but Dancingwhisper took another breath to strengthen herself.
“I hate to bother, Dawnstar, but I was curious if Windsear would accompany me on a hunting trip?” She took a pause, letting the question settle in the matriarch’s eyes, giving no acknowledgement to Windsear in turn. Before Dawnstar could respond, Dancingwhisper added to the question. “I’ve found that hunting in pairs is more efficient, and considering most of the prey is rotten, it may help to refill it with some fresh prey.” She gave the golden-hued dame a cautious, soft smile, hoping that she couldn’t see right through her screen and into her hushed terror. She waited for Dawnstar to respond, before leading Windsear towards the camp entrance, still not looking at him or giving him a word.