sensitive topics When the weather outside is frightful || injury

[Redpath]

((Redpath mains a guy don't look if you don't like eye damage))

Redpath didn't like the snow and ice. It was so cold, all she wanted to do was curl up in the warriors den.

With someone.

She wanted to be warm and cozy with someone. Anyone. She didn't understand the loneliness that plagued her sometimes. She had friends, what was the problem? She wasn't entirely sure. It didn't matter anyways, because she was on the trail of a vole. The river was starting to freeze over, she noticed. Unfortunate, because she was an excellent fisher.

Another sniff introduced a new smell. A rogue. She bore her teeth and quickened her pace, rushing through the willows to find her new target. She may be tired and hungry, but she still had the strength to beat someones ass.

She was on him in seconds. Not only was he trespassing, but he was stealing prey. The vole she had been tracking. She bit into the rogue's neck as he began trying to throw her off and while he succeeded, Redpath was back on her feet and lunging.

The two were reared and locked in battle, shrieking and clawing at each other. Redpath was no stranger to this, she ripped her claws down his face, blinding him with his own blood and honestly, she probably got the eyeballs too.

But he wasn't done yet. With a furious yowl he smacked her in the head and knocked her back, making her stumble onto the ice. He kept at her, clawing at her throat.

Sure, it was a solid hit. She knew it was going to be a serious wound. Well. Probably. It was a hit to the throat, of course it was serious, right?

That wasn't what she should have been thinking about.

The two were on ice now.

She was well aware of the danger she was in, but he wouldn't let her through. She couldn't get back on land, her territory.

She got one final blow in out of spite and anger, purposefully taking an eye for her troubles. The rogue slipped and fell back, plummeting into the icy depths.

He had been dealt with... Now she had to deal with her precarious situation. The ice beneath her was cracking, and she slowly made her way to shore.

She was fortunate, for when the ice did give way, her paws could touch the ground and her head could stay out of water.

Less fortunate was the fact that she was now soaked with icy water and open wounds.

After huddling on the shore for a moment, she hurried back to camp. She was still bleeding from the neck, which she realized wasn't as bad as she first thought. Nothing major had been hit.

The only difference was she was soaking wet-

........

She should probably shake the water off.

Freshly shaken and looking like a wet hairball, she made the trek back to camp, shivering.

"....... I-I-I n-need a little h-h-help." She managed, settling down and tucking her feet under her to keep them warm.


(( Her injuries are a few minor cuts to the shoulders and face, and one cut into the neck but missing the jugular. She also fell briefly into the river.

​

 

[honeypaw]

honeypaw's peace was disrupted by the scent of blood crawling its way up her nose and down her throat. her golden fur puffed up as she glanced around rapidly to find the source. wide blue eyes landed on redpath, soaking wet with icy water and blood that drained from wounds.

honeypaw rushed over to the warrior, heart threatening to beat out of her chest. "oh dear, redpath?" her speech came as a frantic exclamation. the warrior looked frozen solid, and in this weather it would only get worse. the apprentice lifted her head to the nearest riverclanner. "hey, would you mind grabbing beesong?" she chirped with pleading eyes before moving to wrap her body around the orange warrior in an attempt to warm her up. honeypaw would deliver a few licks to redpath's wet fur, trying to dry it before asking a gentle, yet urgent, question. "do you think you can walk to a den? you'll freeze out here with your fur all wet,"​

[ ONE HAZY PANOPLY ]​

 

[GLOOMPAW]

Gloompaw flattened her ears against the wave of blood-stench, the sudden metallic scent hitting all at once. It was laid on the air thick, imminent, and she hadn't learned to collect herself or any arsenal of medicine before meeting the wounded. The molly departed suddenly from the den, leaving Beesong's side in an irrational flash. Before she could spot Redpath, Honeypaw's exclamation sounded.

Her scampering quickened into a run. A look of utter confusion struck her face -- why was Redpath settling onto the ground? She looked so exhausted. Ice water trickled from her whiskers, and the blood that ran from her wounds were diluted pink with the river's lifeforce. Lungs seizing at the sight of the wound lacing her neck, she spent no time inquiring what had caused this.

"C'mon," Gloompaw muttered urgently, aiming to take the warrior's ear between her teeth and guide her towards the medicine den, tugging lightly but frantically.​

 

[Redpath]

Redpath shivered. She could walk, yes......But she was so cold. It was like her bones themselves were aching. She had never been so cold in her life...And this was from just a quick dip!

"I c-can walk j-just fine-" She managed.

She wanted to jump into a fire. She was probably so cold, she was fireproof. That's how it worked, right?

She shakily and slowly shifted her paws from under her when Gloompaw tugged her ear. She was going!!! She was just a little slow about it!!

"I-I-Im coming!" She said. She shakily followed Gloompaw to the medicine den. At the very least, at least her ear tip was warm!

"S-s-stupid rogue..... Gonna fish him out o-of the river and k-kill him again...." She grumbled.


​

 

[BEESONG]

the scent of blood is heavy in the air. it is a wave that crashes into the camp, soaking everything in its metallic tang. beesong curses under his breath, as gloompaw departs from his side. hasty. she's still learning, he reminds himself, already preparing a couple of doses of marigold from his pitifully small store, along with cobwebs and moss.

there's an npc who comes to his den, footfall panicked and heavy. beesong freezes, alarm a ringing bell in his mind, his head whipping towards the intruder. "i know," beesong snaps, harsher than he intends, because the npc flinches with a rushed sorry. but he doesn't want to hear that name. he doesn't want to be reminded of what it means.

still, they blink apologetically at the npc before they brush past to meet their next patient at the entrance. it's redpath who is the source of suffering, today. she's soaked, shivering, and beesong swallows a hiss. she'll be lucky if she doesn't fall ill. just what they need. as if the wounds she's sustained from... whoever- that's another worry to add to the list, itself- isn't enough for them to agonize over.

"gloompaw, get her to a nest and start licking her fur the wrong way to warm her up," they instruct their apprentice, circling back around to the marigold and cobwebs they've prepared... the moss turns out to be worthless, seeing as redpath's took it upon herself to clean her own wounds with a dunk in the river. once gloompaw's done as they've said, they begin to chew the marigold into a poultice. a singular ear twitches. redpath grumbles something about a rogue, and beesong didn't know their muscles could stiffen even tighter. how many rogue attacks would riverclan suffer?

we need to tighten our border's security, his mind argues, but he doesn't speak it aloud. it isn't his place to do so, and he fears what would happen if cicadastar caught wind of such insolence. instead, beesong focuses on applying the poultices to redpath's wounds, following quickly with a swathe of cobwebs to staunch any bleeding. the one on her neck is particularly worrisome... beesong frets over that one the most, pressing hard into the cut with the cobwebs. it brings to mind the image of smokethroat, collapsed on the twoleg bridge and bleeding out. (he wills his paws, which threaten to shake, to be steady.) this one seems to have missed her jugular, thank the stars, but any wound to the vulnerable throat isn't something to trifle with.

"redpath, you need to tell cicadastar what happened," beesong advises, before they narrow their eye as they tack on, "after you're fixed." ​