IM SCARED TO GET CLOSE AND I HATE BEING ALONE
I LONG FOR THE FEELING TO NOT FEEL AT ALL
THE HIGHER I GET, THE LOWER I SINK
I CAN'T DROWN MY DEMONS, THEY KNOW HOW TO SWIM
Coldsnap was no stranger to pain, to enduring. He'd never been trained with sheathed claws and he'd been run through more 'what ifs' than a cat probably thought was possible, but he was glad in that moment for how thorough his mentor had been with him.
He might not be alive right now, otherwise.
He isn't sure what it is that's keeping him going, if its the addreniline, the sheer determination, or the fact that Coalfoot is still beside him and in need of help, but he forces his sluggish paws to keep going, to move despite the tunneling of his vision and the heaviness he feels in his legs. He's tired, he's hurt, but he doesn't stop.
The tom is far from ok, barely any better off than Coalfoot. His neck is missing two chunks of flesh that are heavily bleeding, and down his left cheek are two terrible gashes that hook their way under his jaw from Sootstar herself. Deep scratches run the length of his back and side, shoulders and haunches littered with puncture marks from claws that hud dug in and tried to hold him there. And then, atop all of that, were the countless jagged scratches and gashes carved along his frame from tearing his way through the wall surrounding camp. His forearms were soaked in blood from catching thorns and brambles and ripping them aside, and his pelt was missing more than one chunk of fur, thorns still imbeded in him.
Every step is agony that worsens with the wear of his addreniline, but he's made too many promises to stop now. Dandelion.. Coalfoot.. Hyacinth... He hasn't made good on any of it yet, wouldn't until he reached the Riverclan border and knew that his friend was somewhere safe. Dandelion had gotten out with Daisy- that much he was certain of given the lack of a corpse when they'd escaped- but Coalfoot...
Yellow eyes shifted to linger on the other, willing them to hang on just alittle bit longer.
The second they reached the border, Coalfoot collapsed. Coldsnap was on the verge of following suite, the bloodloss almost more than he could take, but he had to stay awake. Had to find Hyacinth..
His hazy thoughts were snapped back to reality by the sound of a voice shouting 'get back!', and instinctively the massive tomcat stepped protectively over his fallen friend, fur bristling in alarm and warning- he would still fight to defend them, even now, when he knew it was useless.
But it wasn't an attack, wasn't even a Windclan patrol catching up to them.
It was Riverclan.
He knew it wasn't safety gaurenteed, that Cicada could leave them there to die and rot as a warning to any other Windclanners looking to get out, but Coldsnap had no choice. Faith and hope weren't things he invested too much in, but he had to have hope that Cicada would do something, had to find some kind of faith that not every leader was like fucking Sootstar and her foxhearts.
Someone out there there still had to know the meaning of mercy.
"Please." The word escaped him before he could stop it, and Coldsnap didn't beg for anything, but he'd beg here and now- for Coalfoot. "Please save him."
He could feel his legs tremble beneath his own weight, exhaustion tightening its grip on him as more and more cats -including Cicadastar himself- appeared along the border to confront them. He tried to blink the black spots out of his vision from where he stood, swaying above his friend in an attempt to still keep him shielded from any potential claws that came their way.
" speak quickly, while you still can. you should know moorland rats are not welcome here.
He sunk his claws into the earth to ground himself, to will himself not to pass out as well and to say the words that needed to be said. They had to know the truth, had to know how bad it was and that Coalfoot didn't deserve this. They had to to tell Hyacinth.
His heart twisted in his chest as yellow eyes looked for the familiar pelt of the shecat. He'd failed her on so many levels. Would she look at him and see nothing but a disapointment?
He'd never craved the comfort of her presence so much in his life.
"It was.. it was Dandelion." he grunted through the pain of his injuries, trying to find the right words as quickly as he could. "He spoke out on the raid against Skyclan, and she imprisoned him for it, told the clan Starclan sent her a vision of him destroying the clan. Fucking lies." he growled from between grit teeth.
He was no healer, couldn't pretend to know what sort of dreams and connections they had witht he stars, but he knew that Dandelion was a good cat. Starclan would have never ordered him to be treated like that.
"She was going to kill him after he finished training Vulturemask, so today he.. he ran, tried to escape. She sent the whole fucking clan after him, told them to rip him to pieces right there in camp in front of everyone." he shook his broad skull at the too-fresh memory. The apprentice, the kits, the queens, poor Mallowlark- all of them had been right there watching their 'leader' call for the slaughter of someone they all saw as a friend.
"We fought to help him escape, but.." but he and Coalfoot had barely made it out with their lives.
His gaze flicked down to the bleeding tom as his feet, panic and desperation rising in his chest before flicking back to Cicada. "I don't deserve it, so I won't ask for it. But Coalfoot? He's a good cat. Please don't let him die like this. All he wanted to do was stop the fighting and protect his friend, he doesn't deserve-!"
His words are cut off by a sharp, pained inhale, the world momentarily spinning for him as he staggers to the side and his hindquarters collapse beneath him. "I need Hyacinth." the words are little more than a slurred mumble at this point, but she's all he can think of. If he can just set his eyes on her before they go dark, he'll know Coalfoot will be okay.
windclan warrior - male - 14 months - a large, dark grey tabby with yellow eyes