a tragedy, in one part [open]

Three fallen frames at the fringes of Shadowclan camp told a story.

Underneath the dying light, the fur of the first was dappled with faint rays that strained to illuminate the fur. It's coat was black and white, the pelt of a predator. Such pelts had become an all to common sight after invaders had set paws onto the clan territory. But this was unique from the usual sight in that underneath course strands of hair, there was still the remains of what had been a viciously violent predator. Blood stained its claws and dribbled lazily from the side of its maw. Along the creature's coat was an array of freshly lain scars. That in itself, bore the signs of a great struggle.

The next, farthest from the fallen beast, was an unassuming form. Life still clung to it but was only visible in the faintest rise and fall of the she-cat's flank. Clawmarks had glanced her cheek, leaving behind little in the way of wounds but the odd angle at which she lay told of the awe-inspiring brute force that had landed her there. Just behind the nursery that she had strayed from.

And then there was the third pelt.

A pristine and silken calico tom. What once had breathed so heavily with strength and life was now cold and still. A light dusting of frost muted the normally vibrant colors. What stuck out was the sticky scarlet of his chest. The fur had been slicked down and as it cooled, prickled about in several directions - chilling, bloodied icicles. The Standard Captain Iniko had been fallen at the claws of a predator. Maybe it was his pride that had prevented him from wearing a pelt himself that had lead to his death, such a utility could have stifled a killing blow at the right angle. Regardless the reason, he'd taken the hit meant for his significantly smaller companion.

Freckleface.

This threat seemed to have drawn her from the safety of camp. The Asylum followed her out. Pawprints had been frozen in what had previously been soft mud, memorializing the suffering that had happened here. A chilling wind did little to stifle the frozen figures. What lifeblood still pulsated through Freckleface's veins seemed to stave off the mounting frost. It was in the she-cat's favor that the camp had just begun to stir. There was a chance for safety after all. He had not died in vain.

The three pelts, each of their own varying state, told a story.

One of offense, one of defense, and one of justice.

But a single fact remained to be most glaring of all... today, an Asylum cat died to save one of Shadowclan's beloved.

Rookpaw had been organizing the herbs by usage since he woke up. He had gotten most of the herbs memorized by heart, thanks to Iniko's guidance. Today, Iniko had left the den, going to follow one of Rookpaw's clanmates out of camp. Not unusual behavior by any means in the times that they were living in. But it would be the last time he'd ever see Iniko alive.

Padding out of ShadowClan's medicine den, he immediately caught the unmistakable scent of blood in the area. The black tom turned his area around, looking desperately for the source. And then he saw it. Three beings, all near each other, all with the scent of blood. As he got closer, he realized that he knew one of the bodies. His mouth gaped in shock. No. Turning to Iniko's limp body, he curled near the tom. Green eyes that normally were emotionless began shedding tears, and Rookpaw couldn't describe the despair he was feeling.

Wh-what happened? He turned his gaze to the other two bodies. One was that of a badger, which was easy to recognize and distinguish due to its giant, muscular frame. Its eyes were dull, and it was covered in scars. The second was that of another cat, Freckleface if the black tuxedo remembered correctly, lying limp on the ground. He walked towards the she-cat. She wasn't covered in scars, unlike Iniko. It seemed almost like... Iniko took the blows for her. As the black-and-white tom stared at his fallen clanmate, frost on the she-cat's extremities, chest rising and falling like the motion of breathing-

She's alive.

This was the first test of what he had learned under Iniko. Brighteye and Iniko were dead before he could react, but Freckleface... Freckleface was alive, somehow. Perhaps it was a sign, something that would show whether he deserved to be a medicine cat or not. "Somecat needs to warm up Freckleface while I get some herbs to help her." The black-and-white tom dashed back to his medicine den, grabbing a bit of tansy and comfrey roots from the den. It didn't matter that he was messing up the herbs that he had just meticulously sorted. He'd sort them later. Right now, there was a cat's life in his hands, and he had to save them.

Flintstar had been awake, eyes focused once again on the colored rock that he treasured so much. A question ran across his mind, something that found its way into his head ever since the fateful night that StarClan themselves had taken his mother. ...What would Thornstar do? It was a silly question, perhaps - he wasn't alike his mother in any real ways. They had similar beliefs but their personalities, how they would handle a situation was different. But yet, he found comfort in the question, trying to picture out his mother would handle the situations that now laid before him. His ears twitched at the sound of pawsteps, raising his head with a soft frown as there had been no patrols scheduled to leave around this time. Nobody ought to be leaving the camp. He pushed himself to his paws, taking time to hide his treasured rock before he turned and padded out of the den.

He blinked as he saw the tail-tip of Rookpaw leaving the camp...Odd, there was no need for the medicine cat to go out at such a time, was there? He stepped into the camp clearing, taking in a deep breath before he realized that Rookpaw wasn't the only scent leading out of the camp. One was the love of his life, the second was the current bane of his existence in some sense. His eyes narrowed as he stalked after the medicine cat apprentice, wondering what was going on but he only made to the entrance before the thick scent of blood hit his nose, along with the smell of a badger. He stumbled to a stop, a hatred emotion clogging his throat.

Fear.

His mind flashed to the night he had found his sister, having died after defending a group of apprentices from a badger. It had been a horrific sight for one who had lost so much, who tried to cling to what family he had left. He still hadn't recovered from that night - he had felt it was his fault. He had known about the badger but had failed to warn his Clanmates, certain he could have taken it out before it was an issue. He...He didn't want to take another step forward, hesitating at the edge - until Rookpaw's voice spoke up and he came barreling past - telling somebody to warm up Freckleface. Then that meant...? The leader spun and raced out of the camp, quickly finding the scene. He blinked, ears twitching as he saw the still form of his mate but he didn't dare stop until he was at her side, easily covering her small frame with his tail. He could just barely see, and feel, her chest rising and falling. He leaned down to curl around her, eyes wary on the other two still forms.

A badger....And Iniko. Both dead. It...Felt strange at the realization - the Asylum captain was dead. Was that...Good? While Flintstar had been quick to agree to his terms, the choice had been slowly eating away at him. Doubt rising slowly, but with the inability to do anything to change it. His eyes flickered between the dead Standard and Freckleface, quickly putting together the pieces. ...Iniko had died protecting her. Why? Was...Did Asylum truly mean their word? A soft growl of uncertainty escaped the leader as he drew closer around Freckleface. It...He didn't have time to worry about Iniko's true intensions. He just...He needed his mate to be okay. His eyes fell toward the entrance of the camp, waiting for Rookpaw to return with herbs.

Tinypaw had stepped out of the apprentice’s den, still groggy from sleep as he tried to groom flat his sleepmessed fur, when Rookpaw came yowling through camp about— “Freckleface!” He gasped and lept to his paws. Fear for his mother gripped him like talons, and before he knew it, he was following Flintstar out of camp.
First came the scent of a badger. With growing unease, he remembered Mothglow. Flintstar got to Freckleface first, and Tinypaw skidded to a stop not too far from his parents.
His eyes were fixed on the still mass of what unmistakably was the badger. He’d yet to encounter a badger, in any form except the pelts that some of the Asylum stationed in camp wore. Those pelts didn’t do the creature any justice. Suddenly finding his legs unsteady, Tinypaw stumbled back and took in the rest of the scene.
The Asylum’s leader was dead, and so was the badger. But Freckleface was still alive. His ears perked at the soft growl and he turned towards Flintstar. “What... What should we do with the body?” He asked quietly, dipping his head thoughtfully towards Iniko. “He’s not ShadowClan, but... He was very brave...”

Ivory heard some commotion in the camp while she carried back a mouse to the fresh-kill pile. Her eyes landed on the forms in the snow... and she dropped the mouse at her feet. She bolted forward as her heart pounded. She recognized one of them... she thought? As Ivory closed the gap and got closer, a gasp escaped her. Iniko... her captain... was dead. She stared at the badger body for a moment, slowly piecing together what had happened. A big fluffy cat put his tail on the other body... no not body. That cat was alive! A cat around her age came out of the medicine den with some herbs and Ivory made sure to stay out of the way. Her mind was fuzzy at the moment as shock took hold of her and seemingly stifled the flow of oxygen to her brain.

"Iniko... my captain..." She whispered to herself. She sucked in a breath to force back whatever emotion threatened to overwhelm her at that moment. It wasn't time to be emotional. The other cat needed help. Ivory shook her head and moved swiftly to the medicine den, though she was very careful not to block the medicine cat apprentice.

"I'm Ivory. I want to help. Is there anything you need me to do?" She was very new to Shadowclan, literally assigned just yesterday. This was not something she expected to see so quickly.

As Rookpaw grabbed the comfrey root, the catchweed needed to hold it in, and some oak leaves - which he had decided was better than tansy for this scenario - he was approached by an Asylum cat. Her name was Ivory, as she said. She was about his age, and she had one linear scar on her right shoulder. It reminded him of the scars on Iniko's right shoulder which the calico tom carried so proudly, and definitely meant that she was an Asylum standard. "I think I've got all the herbs I need to help Freckleface. Wait, maybe sorrel and burnet will help her regain some strength after being knocked out cold. Sorrel is the plant with big leaves, and burnet would be the serrated leaves next to it. You can grab those herbs for Freckleface while I get back."

Quickly, the medicine cat apprentice got back to the scene, chewing the comfrey root and oak leaves to poultice as he ran to the area. Immediately placing the poultice on the scars on the she-cat's face, he placed the burrs of the catchweed on the fur, keeping the poultice in place. "Comfrey root to soothe the wounds, oak leaves to prevent infection. The heat of the poultice should also help warm her up." He was just muttering what exactly he needed to do to help Freckleface survive. Thankfully, the herbs seemed to be working. He turned to Flintstar. "Ivory's getting sorrel and burnet to help Freckleface recover her strength once she wakes up. And I'm sure that she will wake up." Those last words meant more than they would normally mean. Just a few minutes ago, Rookpaw was borderline panicking. Now, he felt confident that his patient was going to survive without significant harm.

Flintstar's head was tucked closely to Freckleface's, feeing her soft, but even, breath brushing against his cheek. The leader closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling, a comfort that his mate was alive - breathing. But his ears twitched at the sound of a voice - one of his sons. He lifted his head, blinking as he saw Tinypaw questioning what to do with Iniko. That...Was a question. He saw another Asylum cat at the entrance of the camp before she turned and disappeared from view.

"...He is not ours to deal with," he said softly, turning his attention back to Tinypaw. "You are correct, he is not ShadowClan. Asylum must have their own customs to deal with their dead. He died bravely for us, but he should be buried with the rights he was raised knowing..." he drifted off a little as Rookpaw came rushing back out, herbs in his mouth as he stopped by the leader and the fallen warrior as he started to apply his herbs.

It took some constraint to keep himself from growling, fur prickling as he found himself uneasy with the idea of paws touching his hurt mate but he knew...He knew Rookpaw was just doing his job, mostly when the medicine cat was mumbling his actions as he performed them. So he laid his head back down, curling a little closer around Freckleface as Rookpaw did his duty. Finally Rookpaw spoke up louder, clearly to the leader as Flintstar's eyes flickered towards him. "Thank you, Rookpaw. Should we...Should we move her to the camp?" he questioned, lifting his head a little. "I don't like her being on the cold ground like this."

A wordless, voiceless, motionless stormcloud stood at the outer edge of the gathering crowd.

She had been one of the first on the scene, but she had hardly moved. They would not have noticed her, but she noticed them. She watched how ShadowClan descended upon Freckleface's limp body, without more than a passing word to that of Inik's corpse. Tanglerose was no stranger to death. That was the faded, dusted, crimson body of a deceased cat. There was no afterlife to tend to her beloved tom. There were no ancestors to sing rejoices as he danced in the starlight. But, as was his tradition, he wanted it that way. Tanglerose did not. Tanglerose wanted him back. Their moment in time was too brief. They were a pair of twoleg monsters racing past one another in the burning night, with only a trail of smog and the flashing of their bright eyes to let them know that they had even seen each other.

Tanglerose had been abandoned once before, and Inik's arrival in her life, with the fanciful zest she had for interacting with weary travelers, had staved off the bleak chasm that grew in her mind. But now, there was nothing. There was no future. There would be no staying in this forest to grow the Asylum together. They would not rule acres of marshland or unite the clans. They had hardly dreamt, they had hardly slept in the same nest. It was a whisper, gone on WindClan's tender breezes, off to the mountaintop frost and to the Asylum's land beyond, where they had obviously belonged. A foolish molly she had been. Foolishly, she had marched along at his side with a kind of maiden naivety about what the world was and could be. Her eyes had been yanked open, and her sleeping body been tossed in ice water. The world was exactly as she had percieved it. It was unjust. It was unkind to the innocent and faint of heart. It was ruled by idiots. She had fallen into a trap that she would have seen from leagues away if she had been half as smart as she had been in her youth. Love made her stupid. It took half her brain and fed it to wolves. All around her vision, she saw the chasm creeping through the trees. It was chasing her.

But she didn't want to be chased by it. She wanted to jump in. She wanted to take the chasm by the throat and gobble it up like a field mouse.

I am the chasm.

Finally, Tanglerose moved forward, shoving cats aside with viscous force as she went. "Why should she live when he died?" she spat. "You all disgust me. Why do you continue to celebrate and defend feeble cats, who have never pulled their own weight in herbs, prey, or combat? You're all guilty of the defects of ShadowClan. You foster weakness. And your weakness has murdered my mate. So tell me, Flintstar, why your delicate flower deserves life more than mine? Why should I toil by myself in a clan that has always scorned me and my blood? What makes you that RIGHTEOUS?"

She stormed away, passing Freckleface by. She landed a solid, angry kick on the dead badger's muzzle, rubbing it into the muddy ground with disdain. When she reached Iniko's body, she tenderly swept a paw across his face, drawing away fur from his eyes and shutting them. It would be, she mused, the last graceful touch of her life. "It isn't StarClan, that's for sure. StarClan won't help you unless it benefits them. After the Asylum picks off SkyClan, ThunderClan, WindClan, and RiverClan, one by one, they will come here. You'll be fighting alone, in a dying Clan. Then, we will see what your frailty has earned you!"

Any ShadowClan retort, which she anticipated and acknowledged, fell on her deaf ears. She had nothing left to give to them, and certainly nothing else to receive. With that, she leaped over Iniko's lifeless shape and made a beeline for Ivory, who bore the scars of a Standard. Every Asylum cat was aware in some small part of Inik's relationship with the strange-faced she-cat, and so Tanglerose was certain that Ivory would recognize the desperation of her simple demand. "When you are done helping, you and some others will take his body back to your camp, and I will accompany you. You will show me the way. You will point out to me the captain of the Nightstrikers, and I will tell her who I am."

Tanglerose turned her back on Ivory like the snapping of a whip and stamped towards the camp's exit. "When I come back to this camp, I intend to be pelted!" she roared, shoving the brambles aside and tearing out of ShadowClan's home... her home, as it once had been.

Frogpaw had been fast asleep in his den when he had started to hear the rustling of his denmates. Ever curious, he got up and padded out into the camp. As his eyes laid on what all of the commotion was about, his heart stopped. His mother's body. He saw the slow rise and fall of her chestt and exhaled in relief. The apprentice looked from Iniko, to the badger, the story coming forward into his mind in an instant understanding. He quickly ran up towards his mother, watching her carefully. She was alive but in critical condition.

His eyes had been locked on her, so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed the approaching warrior, shoving him aside. He skidded to the side, whipping his head around to find Tanglerose. She wasn’t happy, and he listened to what she said. His tail drooped. He felt bad for her, but she had been a little harsh. His eyes studied his paws as he waited to see what happened next.

Rookpaw listened to his leader speak. "Yeah, that's a good idea," he said in response to Flintstar's suggestion. "I'll move her immediately." Before the black tuxedo could do anything, however, Tanglerose burst into the scene. He didn't think very highly of her, but they at least had a common friend in Iniko. Before he... Either way, Tanglerose seemed emotionally scarred from the incident. And the words she spouted were outrageously stupid. Why save her? Because it's the life that's not too far gone. And besides, Iniko lost his life to try to protect her. Fox-heart. After Tanglerose finished her stupid speech, the medicine cat apprentice turned to her.

"How about I answer that question, Tanglerose?" Rookpaw shouted. "Iniko sacrificed his own life to save Freckleface. The least you could do is respect his memory by, I don't know, helping the cat that he saved? Or at the very least not yelling at us for helping her!" The black tuxedo's fur bristled. How dare she blame them for helping an unconscious cat. Would she have just left Freckleface to die if she was in charge? He didn't know the whole story about Tanglerose, but at this moment he could care less about it. "And I promise you, the five Clans will last much, much longer than you'd think."

Rookpaw sighed. He was dealing with her for too long. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm taking Freckleface into the medicine den. And you're not invited," he added with a snarl. The black tuxedo carried Freckleface on his back and padded away from the scene back to the medicine den. It was still tough, knowing that just last night, Iniko was there, with him. He would miss the calico tom. He was a great mentor, and I hope he has safe travels in the afterlife, wherever he might be. Most likely, Iniko wouldn't be anywhere near there, but Rookpaw wished nothing but the best for his mentor. Tanglerose, on the other hand...

She can rot in the Dark Forest for all I care.

Flintstar had started to stand up as Rookpaw agreed they ought to move Freckleface - only to be interrupted when Tanglerose shoved her way into the scene. The leader moved quickly, planting all four paws around Freckleface as he shielded her from the anger she-cat - taking the blunt of the shouting with a sharp glare and a soft snarl rising in his throat. He had nothing to say to Tanglerose - but perhaps because in truth, he had no words. He was never good to know what to say and he certainly had no idea what to say to her anger - her growls of them scorning her because of her...Blood? Had the truly treated her so terrible? What was she going on about? Luckily, Rookpaw shouted after her as Tanglerose stormed away and demanded to follow the Asylum cats.

As she left, Flintstar carefully lowered his defense and stepped away from where he had stood over his mate. His eyes flickered, spotting another of his sons, Frogpaw, had reached the scene. He blinked as he saw Rookpaw approach, moving to carry Freckleface and the leader took a moment to help her across his back before he padded over to his two sons. "Freckleface should be alright," he meowed softly as he reached the two, watching as Rookpaw carried her into the camp. "I trust Rookpaw's training - mostly when his mentor did die protecting her..." he paused, sighing softly. "...You two are welcomed to spend the night in my den with me. I think it would be nice for...All of us."

Ichtaca stayed back at the edge of the crowd, eyes narrowed as she watched things happen around her. She found Tanglerose's reaction absurd. By her logic, since Iniko died, he was not strong enough to stand up against a badger. A badger of all things. Ichtaca noted silently that she would have thought Iniko to be able to defend himself-and probably Freckleface. If he couldn't survive, it was no one's fault but his. Just as for if she died, it would be no one's fault but hers for being born so weak.

Ears pinned back, Ichtaca bit back her hiss as Tanglerose stomped out of camp. That mouse-brain! Could she not see that the clan was crowding around Freckleface because they knew her better than they knew Iniko? That they all love Freckleface more than Iniko? That Iniko himself along with the rest of the Asylum were the cause of this and she should blame them instead for painting such a negative image that only Murkystrike had attempted getting closer to Ichtaca so far?

That only Freckleface still had a chance to be saved?