Looking for Assistance

Falconfang finally reached the Thunderpath - it had been harder than normal to reach it since he had to stumble along with the ground shaking around him. He came to a halt at the border between his stretch of land and the blackened path, and now all he had to do was wait. Duststorm had been explicit about him getting help for the injuries he suffered in the badger battle, and without a medicine cat of their own, the young warrior had to seek help from another clan's medicine cat. That made him nervous.

As he waited, a monster came roaring down the path... or was it three? It certainly looked like three to Falconfang's blurred eyes. However, this particular rumbling gave the fluffy, brown-furred warrior a nice sense of calm, and he closed his eyes to get his bearings as he waited for assistance.

"What are you doing, you strange cat?" A voice from across the way called. It was Gingerheart standing on the other side of the Thunderpath staring at the Windclan warrior. What was he just standing there for? Doesn't he know how dangerous it is to stand so close? "Don't get too close to the Thunderpath, now!" she exclaimed, hoping the cat could hear her over the roaring of the monsters as they ran by with amazing speed. "Didn't your mentor teach you that it is dangerous?"

Falconfang stared at the Shadowclan cat, bristling a little as she acted like he was an apprentice just out of camp for the first time. He wanted to yowl back a bitter retort, but that wasn't going to help him. Another monster rushed by them, buffeting the brown warrior's fur, but when it was gone he was sitting there calmly, his eyes now trained on the Shadowclan warrior.

"Hey, can you help me?" he called out, finally being able to shout something out to her. "I'm supposed to be checked on by a medicine cat for some injuries I have." His tone about his injuries was almost dismissive.

Just then, dried ferns rustled on ShadowClan's side. Rustfang slid out of the fronds.
"Falconpaw!" he called merrily. His ears twitched as he explained to Gingerheart about his injuries.
"Gingerheart, we should take him back. He looks badly hurt." Rustfang suggested.
He obviously wouldn't be making decisions with an elder warrior a rabbit-leap away.

Raccoonheart appeared behind Falconfang. "Actually his name is Falconfang." She mewed. She looked over to Gingerheart. "If you wouldn't mind taking him to see your medicine cat. It would be very helpful."

Falconfang, bristling once more at being called an apprentice, almost called out when Raccoonheart appeared behind him. Jumping in surprise, he turned to look at the deputy. "Hey Raccoonheart," he mewed. "What are you doing here?"

"Making sure you got the assistance you needed." Raccoonheart replied. "And to make sure you returned home safely."

Rustfang flattened his ears.
"Sorry!" he called to his old..friend, having not known about his warrior ship.

"So do you think you could take me to your medicine cat?" Falconfang called again, trying to steer the conversation back to that.

"No need," came the gentle hush of the pale orange cat. Softwhisper padded behind the ShadowClan cats. "Why do you seek me out?" He called to the WindClan cats. His expression was steel, and his normally warm demeanor had an odd frost to it.

Falconfang tipped his head to the side when the medicine cat appeared. Now, with three Shadowclan cats across the border, it looked like an entire raid party of cats were standing there staring at him! "I needed a medicine cat to look over injuries I suffered in a badger attack," he mewed. "I was hoping you could help me." He addressed his comments to Softwhisper, but he was looking at the wrong double of him; his eyes were actually looking at Rustfang, although he didn't really have a clue that he was.

Softwhisper didn't mind that he wasn't looking directly at him. He was a regal cat -- he would have been just as comfortable if the other two ShadowClan cats Rustfang and Gingerheart were not accompanying him. (Unwittingly, though. He kind of sneaked up on them.) "Very well," Softwhisper said, a bit tiredly. "Let me take a look at you. Walk over here if you are able." He was testing the other cat; he would just as easily come to him if Falconfang couldn't make it. He might have seemed unfeeling at the moment, but he truly was the soul of compassion.

Falconfang nodded, and looked down the Thunderpath, waiting... as the blurry, three monsters - obviously just one that was multiplied by the warrior's broken vision - raced down the path, he took the chance and ran - more like stumbled - across the path. Another monster started to appear, and the rumbling it created plus his own headache causing the ground to shake disoriented the poor cat, but he crossed just in time.

He looked up to greet the Shadowclan cats, and looked into the trees... he had wandered a few pawsteps away, and the cats were to his left. "Oh, uh, sorry," he mewed, turning again to face them.

As Raccoonheart appeared and Rustfang and Softwhisper as well, Gingerheart couldn't help but feel a little uneasy. If this warrior were really injured, she thought they would send someone to send for the medicine cat rather than forcing him to come alone until someone showed up. Giving Raccoonheart a rather cold stare, the young warrior turned her attention to Falconfang as he crossed the Thunderpath with an unstable stumble. Obviously he was really injured, but she still didn't necessarily trust him, especially since he was on their land. "Once you are all patched up, I will make sure you get back into Windclan. I am sure this is an inconvenience to Softwhisper," she meowed to the Windclan warrior, thinking more for her own clan than for this single cat.

"If I'm an inconvenience, then I can just leave," Falconfang hissed, turning his glare on Gingerheart... or at least he thought he was. He bent his head down and placed a paw against his forehead. It was starting to take more of an effort to concentrate on the Shadowclan cats, and he let out a deep, shaky breath. "I didn't come here to be accused of dishonesty," he finished, but there wasn't as much conviction in his mew as he had hoped.

OoC: "u Gil the sputum"? o.o