camp WHO KEEPS YOUR FLAME? (vigil + meeting)


A pyre for a spark, they stood in wake of death and yet ever-ready to battle. Berryheart had stayed quiet on the journey over- not that such a thing was rare for him, but it was a different sort of mellowness than usual. Jaw fastened, ears flat- he did not stay quiet to listen this time, but instead because his mind laid elsewhere, everywhere but within him. In that state he could not hope to form words. It would be uncertainty again- failure, perhaps.

He was unused to this incessant failure. One did not learn without trying and trying, and that he knew- but it was difficult to do nothing but fail. To lie in wait for knowledge to bloom, to attempt to gain it, and- all the while, those you were meant to help fell at your feet. Another, dead- this time, with several chances to live. Was a medic supposed to smell blood on the breeze in an instant?

It would not do to blame himself. She- in her final moments, had looked to him with fading light in her eyes and given her the innermost gift she could- her trust. And he would keep that trust in everything he did. And that included trust in her choices- her choice of deputy, and by extension that deputy's choice. It was beneficial that said deputy was also his mother. In her judgement he already trusted, quite fervently.

Her judgement was given, and dull-berry eyes found the assembled patrol. Lingered upon them. He had said his goodbyes in his mind, sent them star-bound; so, past the lump in his throat his command would push. "Don't get hurt." There was no guarantee he could save them, if they did. His knowledge was... not good enough for that guarantee he would have adored to give.
[ PENNED BY PIN ]
 
Howling Wind looks at him with unease, but Raccoonstripe does not waver; he meets her green gaze with dark, determined eyes. His Clanmates yowl their intentions around him -- Silverlightning, Nightbird, Stormchaser, and Flycatcher, of course.

His mother's instructions are sound, reasonable, but her warning not to engage with the dogs causes his ear to flick. He wants to talk back to her, ask her how are we going to chase them out if we just stare at them?, but he holds his tongue. Perhaps if she were any cat but his mother.

Raccoonstripe shakes his striped pelt out, giving Emberstar's bloodied body a final look. They will prepare her for burial soon, he knows; it may be the last time he sees her. What a sorry way to go. His hotheaded anger cools slightly, remembering the vivacious young she-cat she'd been, all her lives torn away by the fangs of a ravenous beast.

"I'll get Moonpaw and Wildpaw. They should be there." It leaves a bad taste in his mouth to have to drag two inexperienced young cats on this patrol, but he knows leaving them behind would do them no good, either. Besides, we might need as many cats as we can take in case something goes wrong.

Raccoonstripe spies Berryheart out of the corner of his eye, and he frowns at the expression on his brother's face. Jaw set, tight, ears jetplaned, Berryheart looks dejected. His brother is not used to failure, but since becoming medicine cat, he has only met it again and again, the tabby thinks bitterly. None of it is his fault, though.

Before he leaves to prepare himself for the patrol, he aims to bump shoulders with the tortoiseshell. His voice is low. "Stop it." Said sternly, the consonants clipped. "There's not a cat in the forest who could have saved her from that." He continues, padding away from his gathered Clanmates.

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]
 
Cloudypaw poked her head out of the apprentice den, hoping for good news to ease her frayed nerves. When Howling Wind had left, she had let out the cry to protect the camp, stating that there was no way to know how many dogs were out there. The announcement had left visions of endless dogs crashing through the bramble walls with open jaws swimming through her mind.

There was no relief to be found in what she saw though.

The body of their leader; broken, bloody, and lifeless.

It was the most horrific sight she had ever seen. More blood than she had ever imagined. Her ears flattened back against her head, and she gulped down air. She had not known Emberstar well, but she had always been kind and friendly. More than that though, she was a capable warrior. Nothing like Cloudypaw. Yet here she was all the same, torn to shreds.

Cloudypaw had seen her walking around camp with a smile just yesterday.

Howling Wind took their leaders place, made announcements that fell deaf on the apprentice's ears. Her clanmates cried out in grief and dismay, swore their revenge, said their goodbyes, and comforted each other. Meanwhile she just stood there, in silent shock. Fear and disbelief battled for custody of her mind.​
 

He doesn't understand.

The warriors, hadn't they assured Toadpaw that the dogs wouldn't attack? Hadn't they come up with a plan to get the dogs away from their home Why lie, and put Ragwortpaw in harm's way? Send Emberstar to her demise? It doesn't make sense to the young apprentice, as Howling Wind speaks, as the older brown tabby takes her spot as leader.

What does she get called then? the younger brown tabby wonders, trying to distract himself from the horror that fills him at the sight of a fallen leader placed before him. Howling Windstar? Howlingstar? A new name to get used to, to tie to such a high role in the clan, instead of the flame-point he was used to seeing around.

But why did she die so quickly? Did StarClan take away her lives, leave Emberstar with only one? It doesn't seem fair, that. Things happen, the warriors explain, and Toadpaw wishes they didn't. Wishes Emberstar could still be leader, that his home wouldn't change further.

And as Howling Wind calls for patrols to find the dogs, Toadpaw sinks his head down low, silently hoping Stonepool won't volunteer them too. He doesn't want things to happen to him too. Doesn't want to walk with StarClan, as Emberstar does.