oh the misery | return

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BONERIPPLE

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Before she crosses the thunderpath she tries to clean herself up. Tries to get rid of the smell of blood and the way her fur lays. She can cover some of the wounds she has. She can try. It's her own damn fault for going, for trying to break things off as smoothly as possible. Everything is her fault. She steps onto the thunderpath and walks to the middle, there she pauses and she stands there as if waiting. "I'm sorry, Briar. I was never...never the one." Her breathing shudders and she shakes her head. Bright lights flash, the sound of rumbling speeding. A monster bears down and yet it doesn't strike. It shifts, jerking and screeching. Moving and going off the path to throw up dirt and then makes its way back. The thing slows and stops, red lights illuminating and twolegs step out.

But there is no cat to be seen on the road. Bone retreats into the swamp, stepping with care across dry patches of land. Her haunches ache. Her chest has begun to bleed again and she huffs softly. The air is cool and the sun is rising but she feels like she has been awake for moons. Tail dragging the ground she finally makes her way to camp. A pronounced limp but she just hopes to get food and sleep for a bit. She feels haggard beyond her moons and her heavy eyes gaze down at the fresh kill pile, unseeing.​
 
He hadn't thought much 'f it, when Bone had left. The girl was more of a fighter than a healer, really, an' he couldn't blame 'er for that. The marsh 'as always been like this, survived plenty long without some star-sanctioned medic.

But then she returns, limping, ragged, far from a pleasant sorta spring in her step. She waltzes in like its nothin, dry blood caked on 'er fur. Maybe hard to make out within the expanse of pitch darkness, but ya sure could smell it. All 'f that, and she merely trudges towards the fresh-kill pile, stares as if it owes her somethin'. He snorts. "Yike, the hell happened to you?" he questions, body still despite the way his head twists and turns, gettin' a better look at 'er. "Thunderclan ambush? Fox attack? Gang o' rats?"​
 
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It's been a long while since Tendriltail felt the bitter burn of numerous fresh-cut wounds like that. Apart of her almost envies Bonejaw for getting some fighting action, 'side from the limping part... Wasn't much fun when your ability to move properly was taken for several days on end.

The gray and brown tabby stands nearby Barkbreath, getting a good look at their medicine cat's wounds. Her nose twitches as she aims to draw in the scent that clung onto the woman's pelt. She concludes, "Nay, not rat. Doesn't smell of the carrionplace." Unless the buggers were beginning to swarm outside of the landfil? What a terrifying thought, the last thing ShadowClan needed after the fire. As for the tom's other theories, she is unsure. ​
 

I've no time for confession​
When he's sleepy enough, Wolverinefang would usually ignore any sounds not inducive to a good nap unless it were a scream or something else jarring. Hard to ignore however is the scent of heavy blood wrapped in dirt, too strong and plentiful to be from mere prey. Wolve rolls onto his gut, tail flicking about as he scents the air then drags himself up from his napping place. He catches sight of two clanmates looking over something and picks his way forward to see what's caught Tendril and Bark's attention only to seethe. "What's going- oh, uhm, shit. Bonejaw..." Sure they're not bestfriends on anything but she did heal his paw and talk to him some after he was rude so... Well it was just something nice, okay.

Wolve squeezes his eyes shut a moment then looks to the others, jaw set in a worried grimace. "We need to get-" Oh wait, shit. Who the hell medicates the medicine cat? Wolverine blinks rapidly, struck dumb a moment (not a hard task) before his speaking tongue returns to him. "What do we do, Bonejaw?" Maybe nothing at all! Maybe he's over reacting about a roughing up for weird reasons but he doesn't feel too weird about being worried. What would they do, losing their leader and then the medicine cat to some stupid infection. It doesn't help that she seems to look as dead eyed as a fish. ​

✦ ★ ✦​
 
╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

Granitepaw sits neatly beside the warriors, long green eyes growing thinner with barely suppressed glee. Someone has taught Bonejaw a lesson, it seems - a lesson he himself has been wanting to enact on her since kithood. The gray and white tom glances at Wolverinefang and mews, voice calm, "Bonejaw doesn't need help. She's a good healer. Aren't you?"

The baleful look he drags across her battered black and white pelt is full of gleaming green pleasure. He wraps his tail around his paws and gives the white fur on his chest a casual lick. Who heals the medicine cat, indeed.

- ,,​
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When the metallic tang of blood hits his nose, Pitchstar almost doesn't react, unfocused eyes staring at a crack in the den's wall.

He almost couldn't muster the energy to care, after everything.

But, as soon as an NPC warrior mutters something about Bonejaw through the entrance of his den, Pitchstar is shoving his way past the stunned NPC and stumbling over to his aunt. Her fur covers some of it, but he could still see lacerations, peeling back flesh and trickling blood. Pitchstar's lips curl. His aunt, one of the only pieces of Briarstar he has left, has come back to camp sliced up like prey. "Who did this. Who the fuck did this."

It's when he opens his mouth that he realizes what stench lies beneath the blood. ThunderClan and WindClan. Pupils constrict into thin slits. Those bastards... WindClan had come, seeking out an alliance, only for one of their own to attack ShadowClan's medicine cat? "Bonejaw, who did this?!" He would go to WindClan and ThunderClan to flay the perpetrators alive, if need be.

No one attacks his family and gets away with it.​
 
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would you do anything for me?
Naturally, the commotion drew Ravenpaw's eyes. For once however, she was not content to sit idle and watch it all from afar, at least, not once she realized who was at its center. The apprentice rushed to her auntie's side, appraising her wounds with a fearful look.

"What happened?" she questioned breathlessly. Her mind raced as she wondered who would dare do such a thing to the Shadowclan medicine cat. It had once been an unbelievable idea that Bonejaw could even be harmed. After her mother's death, however, she knew better than that. No mere untrained rogue could manage it, in her mind, so then, which of the other clans had chosen to make an enemy of her family?

Her gaze wandered to the crowd of her clanmates gathering about Bonejaw, and her eyes narrowed. "Get back!" she hissed protectively, her anger abrupt and severe. Born of fear for her family. "Give her space you idiots!"​
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