If Marshes Could Bleed

(OOC: Takes place after this topic and before the gathering.)

Marshpaw stumbled across the territory, exhausted and losing blood. She tried to make each step quicker than the last to hopefully avoid any rogues, but it was getting harder with each step and finally...

A black, white... and red shape fell into camp. Tired. There was a ringing in her ears after a thud as she collapsed onto the ground. She was breathing heavily, claws out, trying to lift herself, but the she-cat felt weak. Dusk light fell onto her messy fur, fur that wasn't usually messy, but she was too focused on making it to camp to care. She managed to lift her head, trying to pull herself towards the medicine den. That... Thunderclan cat... If she couldn't fight him herself, she would have to get someone to do it for her. Finally, though, she just slumped down, pressing her face into her black paws, her tail curled around her body tightly. She didn't easily give up, but she could hardly think and she felt dizzy.

Marshpaw's world went black. Her limbs relaxed a little as she fell unconscious, becoming a pile of black, white and red pile of fur, crimson blood still dripping from her open wounds.

The scent of blood preceded the arrival of a bloody, limp form in camp. Immediately, Murkystrike was on her paws, rushing over to the small figure. Her pelt was horrifically stained with blood, but the familiar black and white pelt under the blood stilled her heart for a moment, her eyes widening in horror. In the next moment, her expression hardened, her brain silencing the panic and fear as she threw herself into her duty as the deputy. "It's Marshpaw." She yowled, as loudly as she could. "Basilpaw, get out here. You. Go help your medicine cat carry whatever she needs." She pointed to the nearest warrior with her tail before flicking it towards the medicine den. Her eyes scanned the area quickly, falling on her mate. "Mistyfalcon, gather a patrol of no less than four other warriors. Follow her scent trial to it's origin. If it crosses the border, do not leave our territory. Spread out and see if it crosses back in. If not, we will investigate further later. I want you and your patrol back by moonhigh with whatever you find." She mewed, trusting that Mistyfalcon would carry out her orders without question. Focusing back on the bloody form at her paws, she mewed to some other nearby bystanders. "Find Flintstar, and let him know what happened. I also need moss, we need to stop the bleeding." She carefully repositioned the apprentice so her limbs weren't splayed out uncomfortably, and her airway was clear for the time being, at least until Basilpaw arrived with more help.

Loudnose's head snapped to somewhere near the thorn tunnel, a demanding yowl informing something about Marshpaw. He recognized his mother's voice, and her large figure standing over a black and white body. Dashing over he then saw Marshpaw more clearly, a sharp gasp coming from him. For a second, just a second, he thought he saw Condorpaw before him. He crouched down with wide eyes, ears folding back over his head. Horrified eyes darted up to Murkystrike, her command echoing in his mind. Taking one more look at the collapsed Marshpaw he took off to the medicine den.

"Basilpaw! Marshpaw, she is hurt, and on the ground, you need to go, how can I help." Deformed sentences shot out of his mouth, quicker than usual. He watched Basilpaw's eyes with panick, impatient for an answer. Worry started to set in, questions running through his mind within seconds, What if she is already dead? Will Basil be able to save her? Oh Starclan please let her be alright, not like Condorpaw.

Burningwing inhaled the scent of blood... cat blood. The fur along the back of his neck and down his spine prickled and he followed the scent to it's source. By then however, Murkystrike had already found Marshpaw and was giving orders to everyone around. His ears flattened, his eyes narrowed and he clawed the ground beneath his feet. Murkystrike told her mate to round up at least four warriors and Burningwing padded immediately to his side.

"I'd like to go with you." He said simply, his deep, rough voice rumbling with suppressed anger. He looked again at Marshpaw and shook his head. Whoever did this was going to have their throat torn out. An apprentice was hardly a worthy opponent.... but to spill Shadowclan blood? That was their biggest mistake of all. An idea hit him and he leaned over Marshpaw. He took a deep inhale through his nose and parted his jaws to fully get the scents that clung to her pelt still.

...

Was that.... Thunderclan scent? He wasn't entirely sure, but there was another cat's scent mixed in with Marshpaw's. He'd have to find a clean trail of only the foreign scent to be completely sure of what he was smelling. He then turned to Mistyfalcon. "Smell her. What do you think?" He didn't want to say what he thought he smelled, in case the power of suggestion came into play and Mistyfalcon only agreed with Burningwing because of it. But if they both thought the same thing... well... Minkstar might have a Shadowclan patrol at his border very soon.

The scent of blood in the air had Mistyfalcon's fur bristling as he looked up from a piece of fresh-kill that was most-assuredly not the source of the stench. He sprang to his paws, following Murkystrike over to the apprentice, who was hardly recognizable beneath the blood. Marshpaw, Murkystrike confirmed, and then she was handing out orders. He met her gaze with a brisk not, eyes sweeping over the camp to find cats to take.

Burningwing was quick to volunteer himself, and Mistyfalcon simply nodded. Thunderclan... Mistyfalcon's eyes narrowed in displeasure as he inhaled the mingled scents of blood, Marshpaw and a cat he only recognized from border markings. "You're right." If it were rogues, he would've been much happier about spilling their blood. Spilling Thunderclan blood would cause problems, more than likely. Which was a shame, because Mistyfalcon would have enjoyed going after anyone that had put one of his clanmates in such a state.

"You heard Murkystrike." That was the only reminder he'd get on the orders to stay on Shadowclan territory, which they would already need to be careful on with the rogues about.

With that, he turned to round up the rest of the patrol.

Basilpaw jumped up instantly at the sound of her mother's urgent voice and nearly collided with Loudnose as he dashed into the den to help.  "Uh, cobwebs.  Cobwebs and moss."  She didn't know yet what she was dealing with, but those two things were useful in almost every case.  Sliding past her brother, she dashed over to Marshpaw's collapsed form and inspected her, before breathing a sigh of silent relief.  "She's just been clawed up pretty bad, but nothing that won't heal.  Don't worry Marshy, you'll be just fine."  Her words of encouragement seemed to fall on unknowing ears since Marshpaw's eyes were closed and she seemed to be unconscious, but just in case she could hear she always wanted to be positive.  Once she had some cobwebs in her paws, she started pressing the material onto the claw scratches, soaking up the blood.  The marks were deep, but not dire.  Next, she made a poultice of goldenrod and marigold and spread it across all the scratches with a gentle paw, and covered up the medicine with another thin layer of cobweb to keep it in place.  Content that she would be okay now, she turned to the nearest warrior and meowed; "Help me get her into my den, she'll rest there until she wakes."  Looking at the apprentice's black and white pelt stained with red, she decided that she wanted to clean off her fur too once she was in the den.  So, when she woke, she wouldn't have to be reminded of what incident had just occurred.  She hoped her father's patrol would find whoever had done this, she could only pray that it was not the rouges.

It took a second to figure out where it was since he wasn't usually in there but he soon found the items Basilpaw asked for. Hurrying after her paws he watched her examine the apprentice. His shoulders became less tense as she spoke to Marshpaw. Even if she couldn't hear the encouragement it sure helped Loudnose feel a little more at ease. He set down the cobwebs and other things before watching his sister do her work. He didn't like how helpless and injured she looked, but was curious enough to keep looking. She did not deserve whatever happened to her, Loudnose thought while he watched his father's patrol gather, I hope whoever did this gets punished. The tom nodded in response to Basilpaw's directions, helping her bring Marshpaw into the den.

(OOC: Forgot to post in this but here I am)

As Marshpaw was carried in the awake world, she had fallen into a dream. She was walking through a twisted..  fuzzy version of Shadowclan's forest. Birds sounded distant and whispery. She couldn't control her paws but they led her to the Thunder path. Her heartbeat started to quicken but she couldn't drag herself away. She saw a shape across the path, cat-like but distorted her brain struggling to peice together what they looked like... That Thunderclan warrior. She wanted to run, but her paws wouldn't move the world around her faded into a dark fuzzy mess and it focused on the cat-like shape. It turned to her. She started breathing quicker, even in the real world. Panicking, she knew what was going to happen, and this time she didn't have any confidence. The cat shape leaped claws outstretched, mouth open in a way that was unsettling and the shape pinned her. Just as it's claws started digging in, it's mouth hanging creepily...

She woke up. Her eyes were wide, she heard her heartbeat thumping quickly in her ears. She hadn't completely focused on her surroundings yet, still half in the dream world. After a lot of breaths, she slowed down, coming to the realisation she wasn't at the Thunder path at all. She glanced around, her ears flat against her head. "Imokayimokayimokayimokayimokayimokayimokay." She muttered to herself. Why was she scared? She wasn't scared when it was really happening...

She rolled onto her back and couldn't stop herself from drifting off again, not matter how many times she tried to keep her eyes open.

Frostgaze entered the camp alongside the rest of the hunting patrol. He held a few mice by their tails, entering to swiftly set them in the fresh-kill pile. Shadowclan still needed to eat, rogues or not. Suddenly the sharp scent of blood hit his nostrils, and he rushed to set down the mice and follow the blood. There was commotion, and he intended to find out what was going on. This... didn't take long, his legs taking long steps toward the medicine den, he was able to poke his head inside and see the bleeding form of Marshpaw. Looking at the remaining gathered cats, he spoke coldly and disjointedly. "What. Happened. To Marshpaw."