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Post by Fawn on Sept 24, 2016 15:45:48 GMT -5
24 Moons. RainClan. She-Cat. It had been a while since she and Crowblaze had truly talked. The big dark tabby tom wasn’t much for socialization these days, and she’d tried to give him whatever space he needed to adjust to Clan life again. Imagine her surprise when her older brother appeared with a fish, setting it down as a peace-offering between them, inviting her to share a meal.
They made small talk at first, and her heart was gladdened just for that much. Gradually the conversation turned to the rest of their family members, and to the state RainClan was in. How… How ironic that she could speak of hope, of the conflict possibly resolving soon when Rushwhisker appeared with the exact words to shatter that hope like a robin’s egg on rock.
A snarl of shock and anguish ripped out of Crowblaze’s throat, drowning out her soft gasp, eyes wide as she barely processed Rushwhisker’s nose against her cheek, the gesture of comfort lost in the horrid, turbid sea of horror crashing over.
”W-What? No, he can’t be—”
A collection of gasps and surprised hisses rose from the previously quiet RainClan camp; Bitternwing stared, utterly sick to her heart as Russethawk & Jaycry bore the body of her father across the stream and into the island which RainClan called home. With a heavy look of sadness, Russethawk glanced at Bitternwing; he said the words ‘I am so sorry,’ but she did not hear them. Her ears rang and her limbs shook in protest, walking forward on clumsy, unfeeling paws towards the body now laid before the medicine cat’s den.
A sob got stuck in her throat, a pitiful wail all the noise that escaped her. Forgetting Crowblaze, the dark tabby warrior brushed past her slightly and she jumped, watching him sniff their father’s sodden, river-scented fur.
He hissed, and this time snarled with rage. "Who did this? I’ll tell you who! Those mangy fox-faced pieces of—”
”Silence, Crowblaze!”
Bluewave had appeared, his dark face looking grave. ”Accusations will not help anything. Everyone must stay calm until we figure out what happened. It could just as easily been a rogue.”
Crowblaze whirled upon the Clan deputy, orange eyes ablaze with fury. ”Oh it was a rogue, alright. Those bastards that sided with Swanfeather! If that isn’t all the evidence you need, then you’re even dumber than you look.”
Her brother’s vehemence jolted Bitternwing briefly from her grief, her shocked mew aimed right at him. ”Crowblaze! Stop it! Please… We have to prepare him for…” Bitternwing looked to their father’s body, wanting to wail like a kit and bury her face in her father’s fur, wanting him to tell her everything would be alright. ”We have to prepare him for StarClan.”
Crowblaze did not answer, and she shied away from him, blinking back tears. Oh StarClan, why would they do this? Why would they go so far? She hadn’t thought it possible… She had wanted to believe in her Clanmates, believe that despite their differences, they were still good cats trying to do what they thought was right, deep down. Bitternwing was not so naive that that she really thought a rogue had killed her father over some fish.
The body of senior warrior Vultureback has been brought back to camp! Speculation that he may have been murdered by one of the Purists is now circulating around camp. Considering Vultureback's mate was the late Falconleap (former deputy of StoneClan) and he is responsible for raising two litters of HalfClan kits, he seems like an obvious target for Purist malice. Feel free to have your cat offer condolences to the family members, or even talk amongst themselves over what they think could have happened. (Think of this as kind of a 'layover thread' while we wait to see what the Poll results show) The Poll can be found HERE |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 24, 2016 16:14:44 GMT -5
Owlflight had been relaxing as best she could with her clan mates in the centre of camp, silently munching on a mouse as she gazed at the camp around her. There seemed to be some form of fragile peace in that moment. Bittenwing and Crowblaze were chatting over a fish, no one was yelling or arguing, and it felt like, just for a second, things might have been called normal.
The warrior sighed, thinking back to past events. Everything seemed to have whirled out of control so quickly, and now things were in a state that nothing seemed safe anymore. She wondered what these purists thought of her. They would surely despise her for supporting Timberstar, but other than that she was as "pure-bred" as their shocking standards demanded. No one in the clan knew anything of her sister, or why she had left, and it was probably best for things to stay that way.
The peace was never to last however, and even the seemingly unrufflable Owlflight started up in alarm as Rushwhisker burst into camp. The grey tabby rose sharply to her paws, eyes wide with shock as her clan-mate's dead body was carried into the camp, the fur along her spine rising in alarm.
Bittenwing's wail cut through Owlflight like a knife, sending a horrified shiver up her spine. The warrior padded forwards, pain and empathy clear on her face as she glanced at the relatives of the dead. The bite mark on the back of Vultureback's neck was clear as day, and Owlflight shuddered as she saw it. Whatever or whoever had done it, it had been no accident. She watched the anger and grief with a quiet horror, trying to think of who could have been the attacker. Bluewave was right, it could easily have been a rouge, but with the recent goings on that seemed a little too unlikely.
So this is what it has come to... They've started their very own purge
With a shudder, she turned to the deputy,
"Rouge or not Bluewave, surely we should boost the number of guards at night?"
"That's a possibility. This could have been a one-off attack, but I'll consider boosting the guard."
It was enough to placate Owlflight for a bit, and she turned and padded to Bittenwing, dipping her head sorrowfully.
"I'm so sorry Bittenwing. No cat deserves this, and he was a strong and brave warrior."
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Post by Hellion on Sept 24, 2016 22:45:50 GMT -5
And now my family is one again Stapled together with the strangers and a friend He had been sleeping. Dreaming of giant fish and calm waters. There hadn't been much for him to do since Coldrush had been made a warrior. In fact Gullswoop was rejoices in the bit of free-time. He had been considering mending things with his father. Fix what had happened between so many moons ago. It wasn't Vultureback's fault that Falconleap died, no one was to blame. In his slumber he didn't hear the chaos right away not until a soft nose pressed into his forehead and he woke up. Blurry-eyed and blinking the sleep away Gullswoop was greeted with the soft features of Smallheart. A she-cat made elder due to her health conditions. The silver and black tabby never interacted with her before considering her relationship to those following Swanfeather. "Yeah?" He asked her before pushing himself to sit up in his nest. "I have some bad news, its about Vultureback," She spoke to him, her words soft which made it hard for him to hear her clearly. "Is he hurt? Did something happen on a border patrol?" Gullswoop asked standing up to tower over the she-cat. Despite her size she was able to hold him back for a moment. "No one knows what happened. All that can be said is he is dead,"Dead..dead..dead.... Those words repeated over and over in his head but for some reason they lost meaning. His green eyes narrowed at Smallheart. It seemed like he was accusing her of lying to him. She didn't flinch, she was telling the truth. Using his height the tom-cat pushed past the she-cat to see the shape of his father's body and Bitternwing beside him. Their older brother shouting to those around him but Gullswoop didn't really hear what he was saying. With greater care to how he moved, Gullswoop pushed past the cats gathering around his father's body and crouched low. There was no hint of life anywhere. Pain bore a deep hole into Gullswoop's chest as he realized that he wasted too much time. He'd never be able to talk to his father again. There wouldn't be a time for them to be on good terms. Gullswoop hated himself for that. Looking away Gullswoop ignored the words of condolence from those around him. He didn't want to hear anyone tell them how sorry they were. Gullswoop wanted nothing more then to know who did this, make them answer to their crime. Pressing his nose to his father's cheek Gullswoop returned to his full height. He gave one partly look to his older brother but lacked the courage to look at Bitterwing. He turned on his hind-legs and bolted out of camp. Ignoring the sound of Bluewave's voice telling him to come back.
carries over to 'ill-fated' @spottefawn |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 25, 2016 1:09:29 GMT -5
He was exhausted. The omen he had received from StarClan had kept him up the rest of the night, and he struggled to find a way to make it to sunrise. He'd recounted and rearranged his herbs countless times, fluffed and refluffed both his nest and the three extra nests he kept for patients, nearly paced a groove into the floor the length of his den, and tossed and turned whenever he did try to return to sleep.
The morning sun saw the silver tabby peek out of his den, watching through weary eyes as the Clan began to wake around him. For some reason, the sight of the brightening day eased his mind, and Ottersplash was able to settle into his nest enough to rest semi-peacefully for a couple hours.
His peace, however, was short-lived, as a panicked wail rang out. He immediately shot awake, claws digging into the moss beneath him as every hair on his body stood on end. He was frozen for a moment, until a silver head poked into his den. Ottersplash's ears were pinned back in shock, and he missed Jaycry's exact words. He'd heard his voice, and his presence and the sound of his voice allowed Ottersplash to begin movement, but the words were lost.
Still fluffed to an extra quarter of his size, the medicine cat rose stiffly and made his way out of his den, easing past Jaycry as the warrior backed out. Laid out mere tail-lengths from his den was the sodden form of a cat, a warrior. Vultureback.
Ottersplash nearly swooned.
Just barely managing to hold himself together, he took a deep, shaky breath, closing his eyes momentarily. A few more deep breaths, each more steady than the last, and he opened his eyes slowly, a little less shaky than he had been moments ago.
He stepped closer to Vultureback, eyes scanning over the warrior carefully. The wound to the back of his neck was plain to see, but he looked closer in an effort to pinpoint any additional injuries. Finding none, he turned his full attention to the bite marks. He brought his face in close, placing a paw gently on Vultureback's neck to part the fur and look closer. It was a clean bite, too clean to be anything but feline. The lack of injury elsewhere seemed to indicate that there hadn't been much, if any, of a fight, which meant the warrior was taken by surprise. But by who? Who would want to kill Vultureback?
Minkpaw's prophetic words echoed in his ears. "RainClan will fall." Taking a sudden step back, Ottersplash's head jerked up. Was this what StarClan was warning him about? Murder? His golden-brown eyes scanned the camp, only now realizing the crowd that had gathered. Catching sight of the silvery-blue cat, he raised his tail and his voice.
"Bluewave!" He didn't dare speak much more, not in front of the Clan. His single word had been steady, but he couldn't say the same for anything more than that. The last thing RainClan needed was to see their medicine cat stuttering and nervous, even if they hadn't seen him almost faint at the sight of the dead warrior. He motioned with his tail for the deputy to come to him and he disappeared into his den, waiting. Bluewave was shouldering his way into the den soon after, and Ottersplash spoke quietly to avoid being overheard.
"I think I know what happened," he said. His voice was shockingly steady, despite the storm of emotions and thoughts clogging his head. "I...I had a dream last night. I got a warning." He echoed his sister's words to him, "Many will fall at the claws of few. Blood will flow, until the ground is stained and the river runs red." He hesitated a moment before finishing, "RainClan will fall."
He looked up at the deputy. "This wasn't an accident. This was murder." His gaze dropped to his paws, his heart sinking with it. "And I don't think it was rogues."
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GaleClan Medicine Cat
INVENTORY
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Post by BlooRey DVD on Sept 25, 2016 16:55:52 GMT -5
~~~~~~~~
An unexpected sound, sharp and keening shattered the dream she'd been caught in. Head snapping up, the fawn-colored she-cat was on her paws so quickly it was almost dizzying, remnants of her nest clinging to her long pelt as her wide eyes darted around. Breath escaping her in short pants, it took her a moment to realize there was a strange commotion outside. Voices were raised, shouting things still incoherent to the just-waking she-cat. Her impromptu self-training sessions were taking a lot more out of her than she'd realized, the apprentice wanting nothing more than to finally earn her warrior name.
Half-tripping, half-bounding out of the apprentices' den, Minnowpaw surveyed the area as best she could, eventually setting her sights on the crowd gathered near the medicine cat's den. What in StarClan's name... She thought fuzzily to herself, picking up a hasty pace and quickly closing the distance. Her jaws parted, the warrior-to-be fully intending to ask a nearby cat what the commotion was all about, when she caught sight of the lifeless body lying just in front of Bitternwing. Ears rotated back against her skull instinctively, the she-cat taking a step back as she recognized the sodden fur.
Vultureback. Bitternwing's father. Minnowpaw knew first-paw the pain of losing a father; the keening wail she'd awoken to made perfect sense now. But at least Roselight was still alive. She couldn't imagine what it would feel like to lose both parents. There were no words she could offer the older she-cat, no condolences that would make the pain go away. And so, without uttering a syllable, the young she-cat wove her way through the crowd to settle on Bitternwing's side opposite from Owlflight. She had no idea whether the older she-cat would want her company, but... If it had been her, a shoulder to lean on would have been something appreciated.
A strange longing for a familiar white-pelted tom tugged at her, but she remained firmly rooted to her current spot. Until Bitterwing told her otherwise, Minnowpaw decided that her spot was here, beside the she-cat, to offer whatever she could.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 25, 2016 22:13:36 GMT -5
 Forgetting is easy, but remembering is almost impossible.
Badgerpaw slowly came out of the apprentice den, he walked silently and sat down next to Minnowpaw. He stared at the body before him and his head slowly lowered.
"I can't even remember his name. I don't even know if I knew him or not. Does that make me a bad apprentice? To not be upset that he died, but instead be upset that I don't know him?"
He looked up slowly and turned to Ottersplash who seemed to be the medicine cat watched him leave before looking at the body again. He sat himself down and lowered his head sadly.
"Why did he have to go? Rainclan has enough problems as is. Wouldn't it be better if somebody else went, somebody who the clan didn't need?"
Sometimes, he believed the clan would be better without him, but then again, Silverstream came to find him, she had been worried for him, but that was only natural. He was her first apprentice, it was a shame really. Her first apprentice had to be one so difficult. If one could surely ignore the warrior code, just once, wouldn't it be better if they released him from the clan?
Word Count: 221 | Tag: | Notes: Badgerpaw can be so depressing sometimes. He needs to cheer up. |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 26, 2016 10:38:19 GMT -5
STORMHEART It was normal for Stormheart to be out in the territory for some time, often fishing close to camp. So when he saw a patrol returning with a large form carried between them, he immediately knew something was wrong. burying all half his catch, he grasped the rest of what he could carry to return to camp, trotting as fast as he could. Even so, he returned only in time to hear wails of grief from his clanmates.
Bursting into camp, he dropped the fish at the entrance and hastened to where hi clanmates gathered. There in the center was Vultureback, limp and unseeing. Anger flashed through Stormheart as he narrowed his eyes and stabbed the earth with his claws. Who could have done this! Nodding respectfully at the Senior Warrior's body, and sending up a quick prayer to Starclan, Stormheart moved to the quietly growing knot of warriors around Bluewave. He had never been good at consoling, but this... he could avenge his clanmate for sure.
Yet before he could approach Bluewave to speak to him, Ottersplash arrived and Stormheart started to see the tom nearly collapse. He would have stepped over, but it seemed the medicine cat was trying to keep up a strong face, so Stormheart let him be. He was however concerned when Ottersplash called Bleuwave into his den, leaving the rest of the clan to mourn. Stormheart was curious, but he did not follow the deputy and medicine cat, if they had information that needed to be kept from the rest of the clan, so be it.
Instead, Stormheart realized with a flash that while the clan was moaning and keening for their lost warrior, Timberstar was in her den... someone had to let her know. The older warrior glanced thoughtfully at the medicine cat den, but decided that the two toms did not need another thing to deal with. A flash of concern hit him as well. What if this was a diversion? What if the real target was actually Timberstar herself? Stormheart trotted over to Timberstar's den and sat at the entrance. For now, while everything was chaos, he would just make sure no one could get to Timberstar unless it was Bluewave or Ottersplash. She would be safe, and if she had the strength to come out, he would explain what was going on. I'm not standing still. I am lying in wait. |
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Post by Fate of Five Staff on Sept 26, 2016 19:04:35 GMT -5
BLUEWAVEThe gentle giant that was Bluewave did not try to mask his horror. At Ottersplash's dark prophecy, the huge gray warrior's ears pinned back and a soft hiss slipped through jaws left gaping in surprise. RainClan will fall!
"I believe you. StarClan must have sent a sign for a reason. Maybe we can stop the bloodshed before it consumes us." The Clan deputy dipped his head in gratitude to Ottersplash, and in the confines of the healer's den, there was fear scent from both of them; Bluewave took a few deep breaths to collect himself, massive grey chest expanding and collapsing three times before he turned to go.
Once outside, Bluewave scaled the enormous river stone in a massive leap, the majority of the Clan already present as he summoned them beneath the stone.
"The Clan has lost a brave, strong warrior today. Vultureback walks with StarClan now. His death will not be ignored." The dark gray tom gestured his tail in the direction of the wooded cove. "Before anycat starts pointing claws, I will send a patrol to speak with Swanfeather and her supporters, to see what they know."
An outcry of 'traitors!' and 'liars!' fell from the maws of several cats, and Bluewave silenced them with a growl.
"Now is not the time to lose our heads! Stormheart, take Minnowpaw, Mistsong and Owlflight with you to the Wooded Cove. There will be no fighting, not unless you must." Bluewave flicked his tail to the senior warrior, making it clear that Stormheart was leading the group. "Go quickly, and may StarClan light your path."
These were dark times. And with Ottersplash's ominous words still ringing in his ears, it was possible that this was only the beginning. @dreamer BlooRey DVD @snowfall @sparrowkeeper
Tagged Members: a second thread will be started in RainClan territory where Stormheart's patrol will have the opportunity to catch the killer striking again. They may have a chance to save a Clanmate's life, or apprehend the cat responsible. Remaining Members: feel free to keep posting in this thread, or keep an eye out for the next body! |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 26, 2016 21:56:22 GMT -5
I look ahead to all the plans that we made and the dreams that we had.
I'm in a world that tries to take them away, but I'm taking them back.
Rushwhisker hesitated at Bitternwing moved toward her father, feeling awful for being the one to bring the news that was breaking her heart. A moment later he stepped up beside her, however, wanting to be there for her, even if she was too blinded by grief to see him right now. There was nothing more he could do. There were no words that would lessen the grief. There was no action he could take that would remove the pain. He pressed lightly against her and nuzzled her cheek as he murmured, “If I could take this pain for you, I would.”
He had lost his parents in wholly different ways, but at least they were still alive. He could see them and speak to them, even if they were not the same cats they once were. This was a loss Bitternwing had experienced twice now, and not one he could fully relate to. As thoughts of his own parents whirled in his mind, his blood ran cold at Crowblaze's accusations. The thought had occurred to him, but he had been trying not to think about it. He didn't want to believe a fellow RainClan cat had killed Vultureback. But he knew how naive it was to cling to any hope that those accusations were false.
Did Whitewater know about this? Did he... did he help? His claws dug into the earth as he fought the urge to step away from Bitternwing, feeling bile rise in his throat at the very idea that his own father had somehow been involved in this, in causing her and her family so much pain, in MURDERING a Clanmate. The fur along his spine began to rise uneasily, but he forced it back down as Bluewave called out to the Clan from the River Stone. For a moment he wished he had been sent on the patrol to the wooded cove, wanting to talk to his father, but then he remembered just what had happened and realized his place was here with Bitternwing.
At the edge of camp, Ashpaw sat with similar thoughts of her father, her tail twitching with the effort it was taking her not to rush out of camp and find the white tom, to demand answers. Her heart went out to Bitternwing and her family. She had not known Vultureback well, but she did know the old tom had been Icepaw's mentor, that he had been good to her brother, and that he most certainly had not deserved to die. She listened to Bluewave's decree, rolling her eyes at his parting phrase, and knew her time to slip away and find her father was gone. The patrol would be on their way to the wooded cove shortly, and there would be little chance of evading them.
Instead she pushed to her paws and moved to Bitternwing's other side, brushing against her to let her know she was there. “You're not alone, Bitternwing,” she murmured, resting her tail over the younger she-cat's back, “Whether you want to be alone, or want us beside you, Rushwhisker and I are here for you.” She cast a glance over at her brother on Bitternwing's other side, and he pressed a bit closer in agreement.
Cause all of this time I've just been too blind to understand what should matter to me.
My friends this life we live, it’s not what we have, it’s what we believe in.
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Post by Fawn on Sept 27, 2016 7:34:31 GMT -5
24 Moons. RainClan. She-Cat. For a heartbeat, Gullswoop was here beside her, and then tall silvery-white warrior had raced from the camp, Bitternwing squeaking in alarm at his sudden departure. No! Gullswoop, please don't do anything foolish! Her throat felt raw with grief, and she was struggling to form words, still crouched beside the body of her father. "G-Gullswoop--"
"I'll get him," mewed Russethawk, and with a firm nod in Bitternwing's direction, the senior warrior left after Gullswoop, hard on the tom's heels as they both headed off towards the Wooded Cove. Bitternwing trembled with sudden fatigue, grateful she did not have to be the one to chase after her littermate; grateful she did not have to be the one to talk him down from a dark place, from a vengeful, anguished place.
"Thank you," the fluffy she-cat whispered, hearing the condolences from Owlflight and several other Clanmates. Her eyes glistened with tears, ears pinned back against her skull as she set out on the enormous task of grooming Vultureback's sodden fur. Her tongue rasped over the wet patches of color in his pelt, the river water tasting foul on her tongue after knowing it had been where her father's body was found; she felt betrayed. Whoever had done this...
Bitternwing's gaze was full of horror at the realization that her parents were the reason for Vultureback's death, and she stared numbly as Bluewave leaped to the river stone, issuing orders and speaking of her father. She barely heard a thing the deputy said. No, no please no. It was because he had loved a StoneClan cat, wasn't it?
It was because he had sired two litters of HalfClan cats. That's why they targeted him. Vultureback was dead because she and her siblings existed.
Minnowpaw, as quiet as her namesake, had been a silent support at Bitternwing's side for a while, and Bitternwing wanted to lick the apprentice's ear in thanks, but she couldn't move. She couldn't speak. Her heart was shattering, bashed against the rocks, and there was nothing Bitternwing could do about it.
Rushwhisker and Ashpaw gripped her by the scruff just then, metaphorically pulling her back from the deep, dark place she was spiraling into. With a grief-stricken look to the pair of them, Bitternwing trembled against them, wanting to sink into her nest and sleep until everything was over. Wanting to sleep until the pain subsided. "Please, help me with him." Bitternwing whispered, voice hoarse from so much emotional upheaval. She could not groom her father's fur all by herself; Crowblaze was getting into another argument with Bluewave, she did not ask him for help, uncertain he could even calm down enough for a task that would take a while. Crowblaze wanted action, and preparing their father for burial was not what her aggressive brother had in mind.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 27, 2016 11:24:45 GMT -5
Owlflight dipped her head sorrowfully at Bittenwing, feeling part of her clanmate's loss as her own. She had not known Vultureback very well, but he had been a part of clan life from the moment she was born, a familiar face that formed as vital a part of her home and identity as any other family member. The she-cat felt bitterness stir in her heart at the idea of her own clanmates killing each other, and as Bluewave called her name she raised her head boldly, ready and willing to help end this.
"Gladly."
She mewed, the word sounding resolute and final as she padded forwards, glancing to the other cats who had been called and gathering together with them in preparation for their patrol.
This cannot happen again. We will talk this through and end this, for better or for worse.
The thought to herself. The she-cat was a talker, not a fighter, and hoped against hope that there would be a non-violent end to this madness. She felt the bitterness and hatred for the murderer stir strongly in her heart, but tempered it and funnelled it into a need to calmly bring justice. When the patrol was ready, she padded with her clanmates out into the territories.
((Owlflight away))
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Post by Deleted on Oct 11, 2016 16:47:46 GMT -5
Thankful that Bluewave hadn't just dismissed his theory and his fears, Ottersplash returned the deputy's nod with one of his own. He watched as the large cat seemed to collect himself before ducking out of the den, and Ottersplash let out a shaky breath. 'Alright.' He turned to his stores. He needed to prepare Vultureback's body for vigil, and probably give Bitternwing something to calm her; she was, understandably, not faring too well at the moment. Glancing over the herbs neatly stacked and sorted, he realized that he lacked the ones that would be most useful now. More fragrant herbs, such as lavender, mint, and rosemary, were best for masking the scent of death, but RainClan's territory had a poor supply of them. And the thyme, juniper, or chamomile that he would have chosen to ease Bitternwing's grief were also sorely missed. With RainClan tearing itself apart, Ottersplash had been reluctant to travel to either StoneClan or NightClan in search of herbs, and he found himself regretting his decisions. He hadn't wanted to show any hint of RainClan's weakness. Now it seemed he had only aided their descent. Sighing, he scraped up a couple poppy seeds onto a stray leaf, gingerly picking up the leaf and heading out of his den. Bitternwing hadn't moved, and he paused for a moment to watch her begin to work at her father's fur. After only a moment's hesitation, he padded further out of his den and moved toward Bitternwing. He lowered his little leaf to the ground, swallowing hard before speaking. "Bitternwing..." he paused, cursing his uncertainty. "You should p-probably rest. Here," he nudged the two poppy seeds closer to her. "These should help." He wanted to tell her that the poppy was a last resort for him, that he would have preferred thyme or chamomile instead, but he figured it best to leave those thoughts to himself. He hoped she'd accept the herbs, then maybe Rushwhisker or Ashpaw could help her into her nest. He would see to it that Vultureback's body was properly tended to before he was laid out for vigil tonight. Perhaps it was for the best that he only had poppy. Bitternwing could sleep now, then hopefully be recovered enough to sit beside her father in the evening. Fawn |
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