sensitive topics Faltering Prayer // Death

[Tawnystripe]

Tawnystripe is 49 moons today. Almost 50…how odd, he thought. He never thought he would live this long, that some other cat would strike him down for his rage as a youth, or find him weak enough to finish off. Now, he had the clan to back him up. It was nice…he really never thought that he’d have a home. Or anyone else that would care about him. He had so much to live for.

Too bad his life has never been that easy.

He isn’t sure what drove him to try and hunt alone. Maybe he didn’t want to bother any of the clan, many of them still recovering from the rogues. Maybe he wanted to have some space, not used to being around so many cats still. Even so, it was a rash decision, he’s come to realize. He wasn’t prepared in the slightest.

He’s not sure he’s seen that many porcupines in his life. They’re an odd creature, to be sure. So spiky…it’s no surprise that at one point he has questioned what it would be like to be stabbed with its quills. An innocent question…not one he’d expect to learn.

Tawnystripe tried his best to avoid the creature, but it was on the defensive. Even with him stepping back, it lets out a warning smell immediately, and the putrid odor takes him off guard and makes his head spin when he forces his eyes shut. In his stupor, he makes the mistake of trying to move, and goes in the opposite direction.

The pain is instant. A myriad of quills sink into his skin, barbed tips causing him to yell in agony as he jumps. Everything burns as he furiously claws at the large needles, trying to remove them. He’s unsuccessful, and touching them makes the fire in his veins shoot up further. It’s agony! Pure agony!

His wild eyes scan for the predator, and luckily it seems to not be on the attack anymore. Tawnystripe went down for the count, after all. He learned his lesson the hard way. As soon as the chance arises, he sprints way. It’s hard when your entire body is radiating with pain, but he’s determined.

He’s not sure how many quills are in his body, but it’s too many all the same. He can feel the pinpricks leaking blood, seeping him of his energy. But he can’t die here. Not yet. He has to say goodbye, has to say his final words to Edenpaw. He wouldn’t let his apprentice be filled with the same guilt he had felt when he lost his mate within the blink of an eye.

When he reaches SkyClan’s camp, he immediately collapses to the ground. He’s sure he looks awful right now, every inch of his pelt covered in spikes. He would rather not let the entire clan see the grotesque sight, but he can’t die alone. Refuses to.

He weakly raises his head, feeling his life continue to slowly slip away. But not yet. “Edenpaw…where’s Edenpaw,” he mutters with all his might. Please be here…​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

A ball of moss is set on the ground, ”Use this to clean out the elder’s den. After you’re done make sure to throw out the old bedding, I don’t want to see it thrown around camp for a warrior to pick up.” Sternly she instructs the small group of apprentices. It feels like a life time ago since she had been one of them… she’s got to say, it feels better giving the orders to do chores rather than receiving them.

”Oh- and between us, Kestrelbranch gets fussy if there isn’t at least a pawful of feathers in her nest. Spare us all from her groaning and get that done right away.” She gives the apprentices a playful wink, but instead of looks of amusement back they appear… petrified?

Turning around she follows their gaze to see a stumbling Tawnystripe. Large needles stick out across his entire body and blood seeps from the wounds. Never in her life had Figfeather witnessed anything like it, the Tom collapses to the ground and she rushes straight for the medicine cats den. ”Fireflypaw! Fireflypaw! It’s Tawnystripe, he’s-“ What even was he?! Hurt, yes, but it looked as if he was being stabbed by a hundred long thorns!​

♡ INFO BATTLE

• >> @Fireflypaw
• 
  » Figfeather
  » SkyClan Warrior
  » She/her . AMAB
  » Mate to Fantastream
  » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
  » "Speech"․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
  » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
  » Fights defensively and aid to her clan to victory.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

​

 

[edenberry ?!]

Time had a way of making things drag on when they least needed to be... every red-stained step back towards SkyClan had felt like it took an eternity. What had been searing hot fire in their blood had turned to ice many paces ago, chilling their muscles and urging them to slow down. Maybe.. it would be best to just go home. To not humiliate themself in SkyClan further, to take all the trouble out of it by disappearing. Cherrypaw would understand... right? And Lupinepaw had other friends to race bugs with. Glimmerpaw would do well enough without their protective claws to keep losers at bay. Hell, they could name a reason that every single den-mate they had would be completely unbothered by it.

The grass had become sturdy underfoot the further into the tall trees that dotted SkyClan land they got, and while they found little security in that solidness, their own nervousness encouraged them not to be a complete coward-- besides. Maybe... maybe Dawnglare and Fireflypaw would have something to make the stinging stop. Stubbornly, their own eye had refused to open after teeth had come so close to it and while they hadn't dared to press at the tender wounds, they knew they were there.

They would... they would ask Tawnystripe one more time to try to teach them to fight. It hadn't been successful in previous lessons-- they had all the grace of a dying bird really-- but maybe perseverance would be enough to make it work?

StarClan had a wicked sense of humor today. Hardly more than a bloody mess of fur themself, Edenpaw had expected the sting of betrayal to be enough for one day. Surely these mythical ancestor cats would do better to protect the clans... to care for each individual that would some day return to them. The bicolor apprentice didn't know what to think about those astral guides... and her mentor seemed none too enthusiastic about them either.

Maybe then, it was a divine punishment for them both.

The way the camp reeked of a sharp metallic tang, just like it had that night they'd been chased out by rogues... fleetingly, she wondered if it was happening again. And shoving aside what foliage obscured the camp from clean view revealed a horror of its own design. Slumped over and gashed with many gouging holes, he looked like a leaf over-consumed by aphids... speckled... and dripping...

And they wailed like a banshee to see him, knowing they hardly looked any better in comparison. "Tawwwwwnystripe,"-- paws fly across the camp despite their aching to bury their face in his fur, cowering to hide their own mistakes, their own wounds. Why didn't he smell afraid under all of that blood? They think briefly of another haggard body that had laid just outside of camp... one with berry-juice stained paws and a patient smile.

Not again, not again, not again. "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to get into trouble," they fuss, already willing to profess their sins as if it were their last chance. "I should've just stayed at home., I'm sorry."


ooc note: they are bleeding from their face and back from unrelated, but equally fresh wounds. tee hee​

 

[Fireflyglow]

The call of his name causes him to rise and shake his fur of debris, sleepy milky blues blindly searching for the source. He'd been woken up from a good dream of chasing squirrels through the pine trees, eyes glassy and sleep-addled. He stumbles out of the den after grasping a few basic herbs in his jaws, waddling out and squinting around. Figfeather's voice rings out true, and Fireflypaw follows her robotically. This was routine for him, helping injured cats- his muscle memory carrying him with ease.

However, the smell of blood is thick- a familiar scent following. Porcupine. He remembered many moons ago, when Berryheart had pulled pricks from his face. The tinge of pain is a reminder of the danger, but as he walks over to Tawnystripe, he realizes that this is much more than a few pines in ones face. His nose sniffs at the quills that poke out of the tom's body to and fro, worry tinging his face.

He couldn't just pull these out, could he?

He subtly sniffs and smells blood on Edenpaw, too, but there is no quills to be felt on the apprentice's body- another injury. He grumbles to himself as he sets his herbs down, pondering on how he should deal with this. "If I pull them out he could bleed more." He states offhandedly, eyebrows scrunching up in thought. When Berryheart had pried the barbs from his face, there was definitely a lot of blood- and scars left behind, evident by the pinprick scars on his muzzle. "What would Dawnglare do.." He whispers softly, nosing along the injured tom's body to see if there were any loose quills. One, then two, he pried them out from his body- loose quills falling to the ground one by one. There were so much more.. Ugh.

"I'm going to need lots of cobwebs. Can someone fetch some for me?"

Don't die, please don't die on me.​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 15 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

SkyClan has only recently cleansed their camp of the scent of blood, and yet it’s scent returns heavy with salt and copper on the breeze. Blazestar draws himself up from where he’d been sharing tongues with a Clanmate, his blue eyes wide with horror at Figfeather’s cry. “Tawnystripe!” The tabby staggers, needles protruding from his body, blood streaking his pelt and leaving imprints behind where he walks. Edenpaw stumbles into camp themselves, but their wounds are different—Blazestar sees nothing protruding from their black and white fur, whereas he recognizes the porcupine quills studding Tawnystripe’s from Fireflypaw’s bout with them as a kit.

At his son’s call for cobwebs, Blazestar trots to his side and drops a wad of them. He shakes his head. “Is he… going to be okay?” He murmurs to the medicine cat apprentice, his tail swishing anxiously behind him.

, ”​

​

 

[TIGERSCAR]

BIOGRAPHY AND TAGS​

---

For a moment, all he really smells is blood. Tigerscar briefly wonders if the rogues had returned, but as he noses his way out of the Warrior's den, he soon discovers otherwise. Two cats are wounded and bleeding. One is a pin-cushion of porcupine quills, while the other has been torn into with tooth and claw. Is that... ? For a second, Tigerscar thinks he detects the faintest scent of RiverClan, but it must have just been the wind blowing up from the border. He does think it would be rather amusing for their neighbors to choose now, of all times, to trespass on SkyClan land.

A smirk pulls at the brute's lips, but he conceals it well, hides it away, dark eye following the chaos of the copper-scented clearing.

Tawnystripe looks like a... porcu-cat, doesn't he? Amusement slithers across Tigerscar's mind. He wants to laugh, but he clamps his jaws shut. As for Edenpaw, that one had clearly gotten into some sort of fight. Seeing as how every-cat had their attention focused on the unfortunate cat-upine (he holds back a snort of laughter again), the Daylight Warrior, still wearing his bulky cone of shame, chooses to address Edenpaw, despite their distress. "And what trouble did you get into?" Tigerscar expertly hides his amusement behind a veil of rumbling concern, features drawn into a grimace. "Did a rogue do this?"
​

​

 

[Tawnystripe]

Seeing Edenpaw in pain as well brings Tawnystripe no joy. There’s some relief in seeing so many of his clanmates worry for his well being, but he knows he’s slowly slipping away, and he only has one thing he cares about to do before he leaves. “Not a rogue, jus’ a porcupine,” he answers Tigerscar politely, voice starting to shake. “And please, dun waste herbs on me, just take care of Edenpaw.” He’s sure that they will make it, unlike him, but he still wants to say it out loud. Makes it more real.

Tawnystripe then turns his attention onto Edenpaw solely, a solemn smile on his lips. “H-Hey. I believe you. Yer an alright kid, trying your best. You dun need to apologize to me.” He might not know what happened while he was gone, but reassurance is what he wants to give. “Just…keep on livin’ for me, okay? I’m happy I got to be your mentor, even if it was brief. You’ll be a fine warrior.” He chuckles, but it turns into a cough. It’s getting harder to breathe… No matter if herbs are used on him or not, he knows it’s the end.

He looks towards the sky, thinking about how happy he is to be surrounded by cats who care about him in his last moments. But now it’s time to return to his Sky. Tawnystripe lets his consciousness slip, trying his best to keep smiling while he goes. It becomes a genuine smile when he sees the faint visage of a familiar blue pelt, and his last thought is about how happy he is to see his mate once more as he breathes his last, joining him in the afterlife. ​

 

[Fireflyglow]

His father's voice prods at his focus as he continues to search for quills he can pull out, the tom below him breathing raggedly as he tries to stay awake for Edenpaw. His teeth grind against each other as cobwebs are sat at his paws, and he quickly snatches them up to try and pull a quill from Tawnystripe's body. The moment it comes out, blood trickles forth and Fireflypaw panics.

It isn't much longer after that Tawnystripe's breathing slows, then stops completely after saying his goodbyes. Fireflypaw can feel when the breath leaves the tom's body, and his heart wrenches instantly. "No- No, no, no. No!" He wails out as he presses the cobweb to the bleeding wound desperately, eyes wide in terror and grief as he looks around for something to help him bring Tawnystripe back. Nothing, nothing!

It's only when Tawnystripe's body begins to cool that Fireflypaw's paws still, defeated. He shamefully looks over to Edenpaw, who's lost their mentor to this creature now- eyes fluttering shut as tears threaten to spill past. He needed to.. He needed..

"I need to treat your wounds, Edenpaw. He's gone." It's final, the way he speaks- like a finality that can't be reversed. His paws reach for marigold; infection preventative, stops the bleeding. "I'm.. I'm sorry for your loss. He was a good tom. Kind." He goes quiet then, his paw stilling on the stalk of marigold as tears bubble over. He would need lavender, soon. "Can someone help me get him into the center of camp so we can prepare.. Prepare a vigil for him?"

Too many cats have died recently.​

SKYCLAN MEDICINE CAT APPRENTICE ✦ 15 MOONS ✦ CHUNKY, BIG-FOOTED SEAL POINT ✦ TAGS​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

After fetching Fireflypaw, Figfeather keeps her distance and watches nervously from the sidelines. When Tawnystripe takes his last breath she gasps, shocked that just like that the sandy-colored tom had died. Had there really been nothing Fireflypaw could’ve done for him? The medicine cat apprentice hadn’t even gotten time- it confuses her to no end.

Fireflypaw asks if someone can help get Tawnystripe into the center of camp, the red she-cat pads forward. ”I’ll get him there.” She promises dutifully before orange eyes flicker to Tigerscar, ”C’mon.” The muscular daylight warrior would be of great help in this task and she doubts he’d protest.

Very carefully she grabs the fallen warrior’s scruff, the porcupine quills that patrude from his body making this task all the more difficult. She waits for Tigerscar to hoist the lower part of the warrior’s body off the ground so that together they can deliver him to the center of the clearing.

♡ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Figfeather
  » SkyClan Warrior
  » She/her . AMAB
  » Mate to Fantastream
  » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
  » ”Speech”․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
  » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
  » Fights defensively and aid to her clan to victory.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[TIGERSCAR]

BIOGRAPHY AND TAGS​

---

Oh dear, that went south fast, hadn't it? One minute the warrior is talking, the next, he's stopped breathing, leaving Fireflypaw in a desperate panic. Tigerscar can't say he really cares, truthfully. He doesn't know Tawnystripe all that well, and even if he did, he'd still feel callous toward the whole scene. Why did warriors even grieve, anyways? Every cat went to the same place. A SkyClanner dying was no different than a SkyClanner going on a very long vacation.

It's not even a big deal, the brute thinks coldly to himself. He knows better than to voice his thoughts, though. Knows better than to show any amusement toward the distress of those who had witnessed it. Instead, his features are masked with a grim concern.

At the medicine cat apprentice's request, and at the gesture of Figfeather, the huge tom offers a dip of his head, something that could easily be mistaken for respect, before Tigerscar gets to work with helping to move the freshly expired corpse of Tawnystripe. "I've got you." He offers politely toward Figfeather, moving toward Tawnystripe's rump as he noses his way under the body, trying to hoist it over his shoulders, given how awkward his e-collar made it to grasp things in his jaws.

Eventually, Tigerscar does manage the effort with a puff of breath, and with Figfeather's help, they manage to get the body moved to the center of camp. He thinks that maybe a few of the quills had broken off in his own fur, but thankfully, the sharp part had been, well... embedded in the porcupine's now dead victim.

Having completed the task, the brute pauses for breath, then lets his gaze flicker back toward Fireflypaw, "Uhh... should we, uh-, remove the quills?" He doesn't want to sound cheerful, so he chooses to go for awkward instead, as if he were hesitant to ask such a question.
​

​

 

[Sorrelsong]

　

　 ​

---

She was always a bit of an optimist ( maybe that was too kind a way to put it) so when a flash of wheat and shock of blood filled the air on a rather pretty day, Circe was convinced that the clan would help this warrior.
He faded shortly after the clan's medicine cat appeared.
She stared. Gone. As her clan mates moved the young warrior to the center of camp, her eyes fixed on the small trail of blood left behind. He was...
She'd been there during the rogue invasion. She'd seen death. The comforts of clan life were discarded at this point - she knew death could happen. Would happen. But... but there were no rogues. There was no one to fight really. There was just this warrior, and spines, and death. Their last line of defense, the medicine cat, had failed. There was nothing more...
This cat was a warrior, and as far as she could tell this was not a warrior's death. Some spined thing had come and stolen him.
She glanced at the cats around her, flicking an ear to feel more present. The ground beneath her paws seemed so far away.
She dipped her head in respect for the warrior but found herself glaring at the medicine cat. You failed him.
Anger warmed her bones enough to move again. Circe's head snapped to the larger tabby tom.
"I, I don't think so," She mewed, her tone flat. "Might be better to leave it in. In case taking them out makes it... worse."

_____________________________________________________________________________________________
// ooc:​

 

[CLOVERJAW]

❪ TAGS ❫ — Death.

There'd been lots of it lately. Some of it, Clover wasn't afraid to say he endulged in. The wet splash, the pride of taking victory for his clan. But this. There was no victory here.
He had watched the young warrior stagger into view from recently reconstructed the freshkill pile. Clover had thought that maybe a wound had flaired up and the warrior was on his way back. He started over, carrying a bit of freshkill for the warrior. It was only until he smelled to much blood that Clover got concerned. The still-warm prey disapeared in a cloud of smoke as Clover pelted over to the fallen warrior, eyes anaylising the area behind him.
Rogue attack! Were the words his mind fourmed, but they didn't make their way down to his mouth. Tawnystripe was gone before he could ask for confirmation, though the spines in the back of the tom pretty much garenteed an attacker that wasn't cat-like.
Skiding to a halt, Clover blinked owlishly down at Tawnystripes body, more out of shock them anything else. That was fast , he marveled. Then shook his head, I hope it was fast followed by a quick glance skyward.
"Procupine." He noted, studying the spines before Figfeather and Tigerscar moved the warrior's body. "Didn't know they could do that." He moved along side Tawnystripe's body to be of assistance to either cat, should they need it.
He sighed watching the corpse's fur sway in the breeze as they set him down. "Hunt well," He mummered, touching his nose to the warrior. It felt weird. Surviving all that they did, just for a porcupine to take it away. Death in the clan just felt odd in general.
He looked over at Edenpaw, eyes heavy for them.
"I'm..." For once he was at a lost for words. His jokes couldn't make this better, nor could his muscle. He felt foolish, for many reasons. Tawnystripe nor her deserved this. This was not battle field, and they had not done anything wrong. There was no rhyme or reason for this. No mind behind the beast to contend with. Hot shame ran through him.
He watched her carefully, willing to give her any comfort she asked for.
​

 

[edenberry ?!]

They are not the first to find Tawnystripe and not even the last, as others creep closer whispering their concern of rogues only to be quickly disproven. The sharp pines that stick from their mentor sound so uncomfortable, even as Fireflypaw tries to tactfully remove them to spare the loss of further blood. Blazestar, even with his extra star-blessed lives, is useless to them. Edenpaw sorely wishes he didn't have so many... thinks it cruel for StarClan to only give them to one cat at a time.. Why didn't they all deserve another chance.. even if just one more instead of eight? Hadn't it been Fireflypaw that said it wasn't possible for a leader to truly waste those lives? Did he actually know that or had it been a hopeful thought?

Tigerscar's question sends a shudder down their bloodied spine, having hoped not to be questioned so directly and in front of the SkyClan leader no less. Surely he would be furious with them, like he had been with Brightflame... But it was different this time!! They had been tricked it wasn't like... that. Peering at the one-eyed warrior from where they hid nestled close to the heather-furred tom that had mentored them the last several moons, they glower in their pouting. "I-it wasn't my fault!" And the wheezing voice that pleads for Edenpaw's priority shushes them to be calm. He would believe them... he did! "It wasn't a rogue..." they mumble, wishing it had been so it would make more sense why it had happened that way.

They think to confess it a crime of RiverClan's, to admit to the way wool had been so firmly held over their eyes but Tawnystripe sounds like he's saying a goodbye and Edenpaw can't stand it. "What do you mean brief? Tawnystripe- hey!" His reassurances they so desperately needed go quiet, a promise pushed into their paws they weren't sure they could keep. Live for him? Live and become a great warrior someday. And Edenpaw thinks to hate him for asking that of them. They weren't going to be a good warrior, they were barely even a bad apprentice! He asked too much and left-

Fireflypaw confirms it with a voice tightened by the responsibility of his role... And all too quickly everyone is moving to pull him away. Giving a wail of dismay, they cannot believe this can be happening twice. Jaggedstorm AND Tawnystripe!!! They were cursed. And now ugly to match- a torn face and claw-scraped back a permanent reminder of it. Looking towards the sightless, watery gaze of their medicine cat apprentice, they cannot will themself to yell at him despite how angry they feel. He was just an apprentice too. This was clearly Dawnglare's fault. Or StarClan's. Or Blazestar's? None of those answers felt good enough. Sniffling quietly to themself, they plod after him unsteadily to do as their told. To clean up. To be cared for. Alone.​

 

[DOGBITE]

✦ Commotion lured Dogbite from the warriors den and into the familiar clearing of home. Torn ears high with alert as his eye landed on the deceased form of Tawnystripe being dragged off. Stunned silence filled the air around the warrior as he observed that the golden tom had several objects protruding from him. Branches? Sticks? Whatever it was, it had been sticking clean out of him. What on earth... Grief hot and familiar swamped his chest at the site.

Slowly, they approached the gathered cats just as Edenpaw swirled in on themselves and followed after Fireflypaw. Not good. Quickly, and without thought, the orange splotched cat walked next to the youth. Casting a soft and understanding gaze downward. "Hey, Edenpaw wait up!" His tail flickered low to the ground as he imagined Littlepaw in Edenpaw's place. I've got to try. His pupil had been there in Edenpaw's place all that long ago. He visibly flinched at the painful inner monologue but pressed on, nonetheless.

Meow low and shaky as his tone dipped. "Tawnystripe may have left us far too soon, but he instilled something within you that's very precious." Sharply, they swallowed the knot of emotions before finishing off the thought. "His life lessons. You will carry those with you forever and one day even pass them on to your own apprentice. Don't forget that." Comfort was not his strong suit, but nonetheless, he wasn't void of emotion.

Opening up their pale arm, they gave a silent offer of an embrace for the Apprentice if they so desired. Washing out the tears and boogers from their pelt would not be a favorable task, but if it meant they could help, they'd endure it without a second thought.

•°.⋆ INFO

• ooc ; feel free to reject his offer or blow off his words! I wasn't sure if Edenpaw had already left or not.
• 
  
  
  
  ✧ 29 moons old
  ✧ skyclan warrior
  ✧ he/they ; single
  ✧ child of npc x npc
  ✧ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ✧ penned by tasmagoric

​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

Figfeather is grateful for Tigerscar and Cloverjaw’s assistance, together they successfully relocate the tom into the middle of camp. By now the entirity of camp was beginning to circle, the news of what had happened spreading like wildfire.

She finds Tigerscar’s question of removing the quills silly, Circe’s advice against it even more so. ”Of course we’re removing the quills. We can‘t lay him to rest like… this.” Forcing Tawnystripe’s body to rest with the very weapons that killed him jutting out from his body seemed cruel. She supposed however its not up to her, it was tradition for medicine cats to dress and clean up the body before vigil. With Dawnglare missing in action it’d be up to Fireflypaw.

Figfeather will save her goodbyes to the deceased warrior for when his body is done being prepared. She gives his lifeless form an apologetic look, sorry for him that things had turned out this way, that the lights had gone out so abruptly. Her heart aches as heavy paws carry her away from the scene.

♡ INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Figfeather
  » SkyClan Warrior
  » She/her . AMAB
  » Mate to Fantastream
  » A red tabby she-cat with a mangled leg.
  » "Speech"․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A foe in battle whose ability to strategize can shift tides.
  » Excels in strategizing and pre-planning her battles.
  » Fights defensively and aid to her clan to victory.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[BLAZESTAR]

Tawnystripe’s labored breaths turn to hushed words, for Edenpaw’s benefit, and then he’s gone. Blazestar closes his eyes, sorrow churning in his chest. “May your hunting be fruitful in StarClan,” he murmurs. Fireflypaw’s wail further twists his heart, and he attempts to press his muzzle to his son’s scarred face in a gesture of comfort. “He was already dying when he got here. There is nothing more you could have done.” Stars know, he thinks, that all medicine cats must lose patients. Dawnglare had lost Morningpaw and countless others, by no fault of his own. Fireflypaw would learn, too, that constant heartache of being the Clan’s healer.

It's Tigerscar’s line of questioning that draws Edenpaw into blubbering, and Blazestar surveys the tattered fur, the scratches along their back. His lips pull taut. “Fireflypaw, treat Edenpaw. I want to speak with them once they’re patched up.” It wasn’t a rogue, they say, and suspicion darkens the blue in his eyes. “You will meet me in my den once your wounds have been treated.”

He stands, nodding stiffly to Figfeather, Tigerscar, and Cloverjaw, who aim to carry Tawnystripe’s body back. He watches Dogbite attempt to offer Edenpaw some comfort. It wouldn’t be easy, losing a mentor—he remembers Brightflame’s loss, how devastated the young she-cat had been. He wonders if his conversation with Edenpaw is about to be a repeat of a similar scenario.

[ out! ]

, ”​

​