"Hm? Sablepaw?" A shadow stirs within her nest with velvet ears craned forwards, her body littered in cobwebs and dried poultice of medicinal herbs. Oh, how she hated the smell that radiates off her own body—the metallic scent of blood and fresh scent of herbs a cacophony that permeated her dusted nose. She grimaces as she lifts her nead, lacerations patterned her once sleek coat and pulled taut as she moves. Every move felt as if she was going to split open, reopen those wounds and bleed once more. So much blood had covered her in that battle, a mixture of Tigerfrost's and her own. Glowing chartreuse eyes take in the presence of her young apprentice, a silhouette standing at the mouth of the medicine den. Cindershade could only make out her splash of ivory and luminescent periwinkle eyes in the darkness, holding lily before laying it on her paws. She stares at it for a moment with a blank expression, unsure of what she was supposed to do with it.
But it was a gift—a gift from Sablepaw and she could feel her maw part in a soft smile, invisible to the absence of light. "Thank you, child. Come, sit." The warrior waves her obsidian tail towards her, gesturing for her to take a seat beside her. Her head swivels lightly towards her, careful not to twist too quickly as tendons and muscle stretched and groaned as she did. She bites a hiss a pain, swallowing whole as her tired gaze traces over her counterpart. ..How are you feeling? Anything I can get for you? The molly doesn't answer, just stares at her for a moment. She doesn't recall seeing Sablepaw in the battle, but how could she during blood dripping into her vision? It was enough that Cindershade had to worry about her own back, instead of another's. A flare of frustration flares within her and her jaw sets, molars smashing into each other. How foolish she had been. How foolish she was to not even think about her own apprentice in the midst of chaos, wondering if she was alive—or if she was dead; slain like Clearsight and left to bleed out.
How dare anyone call her a mentor or a teacher.
Too in-depth of her self-guilt, Cindershade doesn't realize she's just staring at her until the wind billows around her scabbed over face, whiskers swaying in the breeze and she blinks at her. "Oh—no, I'm alright." Tne woman mutters, shifting uncomfortably in her best as if burrs lined it. "Thank you, though." Silence. Silence drenched the both of them now—heavy and palpable. They both felt the guilt, two sides of the same coin. One driven by fear and one driven by rage, both making similar mistakes. Sablepaw didn't seem to be injured—there was no trace of blood upon her fur , only the fresh scent of river water. She had not come to Beesong. She had not fought, possibly hiding away. It didn't take much to realize it, but Cindershade would not question her or scold her. Instead—
"I'm sorry, Sablepaw." She speaks now, low and soft towards her protégé. "I failed you as a mentor. I've had a lot fall into my paws lately, and I've neglected your training." Her stares at her, eyes not wavering despite the shame she felt. "It will not happen again. To you or to Pinepaw." She vows to her and the cinnamon hued tom, declaring her conviction to set it in the stones of her heart. She vaguely remembers Pinepaw battling, and he fought valiantly as an apprentice his age could. But he has had training from her before, at least able to defend himself against another apprentice. Sablepaw didn't hardly have that, she's been her apprentice for barely a moon. "I hope you can forgive me."
[ SILENCE IS DEAFENING ]
