Mourning over failure (Closed for Renette and I)

He had known the second he saw Brownstorm get attacked that the cat wouldn't live, so why was Emberleaf so upset that he had died under his care? A dangerous mix of anger and depression raged inside of Emberleaf, burning his chest and lighting his gray eyes ablaze in a blue color. I'm a Medicine Cat, I'm supposed to heal, not let my clanmates die. How can I do my job if I'm no good at it? He knew that his apprentice, Leafpaw, was near, so Emberleaf forced his tears to not spill out.

Leafpaw tried to ignore the anger that surrounded Emberleaf but it was near impossible, "Emberleaf, I just want you to know that the clan knows you did everything you could but Brownstorm's fate was inevitable." She said with her large, black tail brushing up against him. "Do you want to maybe talk about it?" Leafpaw then suggested quietly.

Emberleaf looked away from his apprentice. "No," he demanded rather firmly. This even surprised himself; Emberleaf had never spoken to anyone like that before. "Sorry," he mumbled while he pushed away from Leafpaw. "I....I just...." he groaned and looked up at the black she-cat before shaking his head. "I don't want to speak about it, Leafpaw." What really was bothering Emberleaf was two things. One was that he had thought if he could save Brownstorm, then he could save anybody, including Lightfoot and Icestorm, his two best friends who were elders. Even Gorsefeather, his old mentor who was now an elder, could be saved if Emberleaf could've saved Brownstorm! The other reason was one that kept nagging Emberleaf. If a cat died, but Starclan was gone, where would he/she go?

"Oh- I understand, but just make sure you know I am always open for a chat." Leafpaw paused for a moment, "It doesn't take a leader to see that there is something bothering you, you're a great medicine cat Emberleaf, I think you're forgetting that." She added quietly. Leafpaw was extremely worried for her mentor but it was clear that the recent passing of Brownstorm was getting to him more than it should be.

Emberleaf shook his head again and turned his back toward Leafpaw. "It's not that, Leafpaw. That's not what's bothering me." He started to get defensive and angry, and a bit annoyed at his apprentice's attempt of helping. "Get back to work. Those herbs aren't going to sort themselves," he snapped bitterly before he could stop himself.

"Alright, just as long as that is clear." Leafpaw said in return and continued separating and bunching herbs. How could she help? Whenever this happened to other cats she just left the anger to run its toll but this seemed different.