Are You Afraid of the Dark?

Shadepaw felt as though she was floating, suspended in darkness; she couldn't see a thing, but she knew that she was in a lot of pain... She let out a whimper as she tried to move, and pain surged through her body. She tried top open her eyes, but her eyelids felt heavy, her face felt weird, pain searing across her muzzle and her eyes whenever she tried to speak or open her eyes. She wasn't sure how long she stayed this way, only that she wanted to wake up, desperately. She didn't even remember what had happened... Am I dead? She tried to strain her eyes, to see through the darkness that was crushing her, but saw nothing. Once or twice, she thought she saw a twinkle of light in the distance, growing closer, but she struggled even harder to wake up, determined that, whatever had happened, it was not going to kill her.
Finally, she began to feel something under her--not the ground, but a soft, mossy nest. She wondered if it was possible that she was back in her nest in the apprentice den, if everything had been a bad dream--a very realistic, horrifying bad dream with a lot of blood. But no, the pain was very real, and besides that, the den she was in was much too quiet, and it felt... Empty. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she might be alone. Finally, with some effort, she opened her eyes--well, eye? She couldn't tell, but something felt very wrong with one of her eyes. She couldn't feel it. And, even though she was quite sure she had opened her eyes, everything was still dark. She tried to sit up, but pain shot through her body from her back leg and she let out a sharp yelp of pain. "Wh-where am I?" She mewed into the darkness; her voice sounded weak to her own ears, but she didn't have the energy to correct it. "Hello?"

Ashstar had just come back from her daily walk around the territory, but something smelled... off in WindClan camp. It took her a few seconds to realize the scent, but by that time a horrifying scene met her spring green eyes. Shadepaw, face completely mutilated almost beyond recognition, leg twisted, collapsed in a puddle of her own blood on the ground. Against her own will, the gray-furred she-cat let out a cry of anguish and rushed towards the apprentice. "Beetlewing! Sagepaw! Come quick!" Her voice worked of its own accord, instinct taking over even as uncontrollable tears began to flood from her despairing eyes. What monster would do this? There were two scents rolling off of the injured apprentice in waves- the scent of blood, sickeningly sweet and metallic, and the musky scent of trees and undergrowth. ThunderClan! Rage filled her heart, burning through her veins, transforming the pit of roiling emotions inside her into a liquid flame of vengeful fury. Whichever one of Darkstar's cowardly warriors had committed this atrocious crime would pay. She wouldn't do what the prideful Fishstar had done and try to attack the whole Clan, but if she found the cat who had done this, she'd tear their pelt off herself. "What happened, Shadepaw?" The WindClan leader's voice was gentle, but her lithe form shook with outrage. ThunderClan wouldn't get away with this.

Ashstar's voice suddenly cut through the silence that had surrounded her, pounding harshly on her eardrums. It sounded too loud, too harsh, it made her head pound, and it took her a moment to understamd what question was being asked. What happened... Shadepaw had no idea. She remembered hunting, and Fourtrees. Yes, she had been at Fourtrees, and then... Nothing. All she could remember was blood, and the intense pain of being slammed into something incredibly hard. She wasn't even sure how she had gotten back to camp... Had someone brought her back? She supposed that must have been the case, she was sure there was no way she could have walked there. "I... I don't know..." She mewed faintly. She was feeling a bit dizzy, as though she may pass out again, and she tried to focus on remaining upright.

The faint sound of distressed chattering drifted into Brindlewhisker's ears as she surveyed the fresh-kill pile, causing her to pause in her rather mundane task and lift her head to try and figure out where the rather out of place murmurs were coming from. Suddenly a loud call for Beetlewing and Sagepaw filled the rather quiet, crisp air and sent her galloping in the direction of the panicked summons. Skidding to a halt beside Ashstar's trembling form, she was greeted withe sight of a freshly mauled Shadepaw. Heart twisting in pity at Shadepaw's bedraggled appearance, Brindlewhisker remained as still as stone at Ashstar's side, her pale grey nape fur bristling slightly. Who would savage a cat who still bore their kit-like downy fur in such a manner? A flood of white-hot anger lapped at her veins with almost enough force to sweep away the despair that gathered in her core. Was this how Fishstar felt whenever Shellwater and Frogjaw were maimed?

A shudder worked its way down her spine as she stared at Shadepaw's bloodied, battered face, Nightmarish memories began to plague her evidently confused mind and the hot, rustic taste of blood was suddenly evident within her mouth and the scars that wound themselves around the left half of her face began to burn. Behind her eyes, Brindlewhisker was faced with the image of Bear's snarling face that remained even when she squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. 'There's no reason to be afraid anymore,' She sternly scolded herself, trying to force the lingering panic to dissipate, 'Bear's long dead. The only thing that needs to be of concern right now is Shadepaw.'

Heart pounding, Brindlewhisker nervously sucked in a shaky breath as she sought to clear away the frightening memories, tail twitching as she did so. It wouldn't be fair Shadepaw or Ashstar if she was trapped within the dark recesses of her own internal panic. Her internal panic faded quickly as a frown worked itself onto her face at Shadepaw's discouraging words- she couldn't remember anything? Not even where she was or how she got back to camp? "Can you recall anything at all Shadepaw?" Brindlewhisker prompted softly, peering at the pale tortoiseshell she-cat with evident concern. What would happen if Shadepaw never remembered what exactly went down? How would justice be dealt if they couldn't even learn the description of the attacker? "Even just a scent or any cat talking?" She urged quietly, eyes flashing at the slight tremor in her own voice.

During her gentle prompting, a faint scent wormed its way into her nose and mouth, making Brindlewhisker's fur spike with disbelief. The scent was mainly overlaid with the hot, rustic scent of blood but she could still faintly detect the familiar scent of trees, undergrowth, and decaying plants. Thunderclan. At the realization that it was a Thunderclan cat who was possibly involved in this horrific crime, she immediately became worried that it was Rockpaw who had done this- after all when was the last time she or Mottleheart had even seen the troublesome little tom? After being attacked by Bear, it seemed like he had made a ritual of avoiding them at Gatherings. 'Oh please Starclan don't let Rockpaw be connected to do this in any way.' She quietly prayed, anxiously recalling the face of her younger friend that she cared so much for. Sealing her mouth nervously, Brindlewhisker remained close beside Ashstar, flexing her claws in a mixture of nervous fury as she waited for either she-cat to speak once more.

Shadepaw shook her head slowly, and tilted sideways a bit, looking as though she was struggling to stay upright. "F-Fourtrees..." She managed, trying to steady herself on shaking paws, "That's all..." She wondered if she might remember more if she could get some rest... She felt incredibly tired, and she couldn't tell if she was still bleeding or not, but she was sure that blood loss must be contributing to her weariness. The thought occurred to her that she could, in fact, still die without the medicine cats, and her whole body seemed to tremble at the thought. She convinced herself that she could stay alive with sheer willpower, but it was hard to believe that when she was in such intense pain, barely clinging to conscious thought.
There was, thankfully, no need for Shadepaw to keep trying to remember what had happened, because the evidence was right between her claws--a couple of tufts of grey fur.

She'd smelt that metallic scent one too many times. From her daughter, from herself, from Blacktwig, and she never wanted to smell it again. Blood, so unmistakable. Like that of which RiverClan so regularly got on their paws - had this been their work?
Mossfoot let out a gasp at Shadepaw's mutilated body, barely breathing with each raspy exhalement. "Oh love, what's happened? Who did this to you? Someone get Sagepaw or Beetlewing,
you poor thing!" She glanced around for the medicine cats cats, only then noticing the tufts of fur between the injured apprentice's claws. "Fourtrees? And where's that grey fur from -surely not your own, ay? Can you...just try to recall what happened?"

Shadepaw turned her head towards the sound of another voice--Mossfoot? She didn't know the warrior that well, and now hardly seemed to be the time to get to know her. Instead, she focused on the question. Fur...? She had no idea what Mossfoot was talking about. She lifted one paw, but it put her off-balance and she quickly put it back down. Sitting up was getting too difficult, so he lowered herself to her belly on the ground. "I don't know." She mewed again, "I'm... I'm sorry, I j-just don't remember..." She seemed distressed, and this was mainly because she was finding herself barely clinging to consciousness. She closed her eyes (though, she couldn't see anything, so she wasn't sure why she bothered), trying to focus on staying awake, fearful of passing out and never waking up again. "A-Am I... Going to die?" She mewed, her voice sounding small.

"Of course you won't." Brindlewhisker snapped a bit more sternly at Shadepaw's whimpering words, feeling a collective shudder run down her spine at the tri-colored apprentices words- they sounded eerily similar to the garbled, delusion cries that Rockpaw had uttered when she had tried to gauge the severity of his wounds. Bending down to become more level with Shadepaw, she set about at gently cleaning away the sticky blood from the she-cat's face in an attempt to push away the nagging anxiety, doing her best to remain as gentle as possible. "You're a little worse for wear, but certainly not in the grasp of Starclan just yet." she murmured softly inbetween licks, face screwing up slightly at hot, rustic tang of blood that now flooded her mouth. The fully healed scars on her face began to itch nervously at the familiar taste, but she did her best in her efforts to clean up the younger she-cat's face.

"You'll feel better once Sagepaw arrives." Brindlewhisker promised softly, but at Mossfoot's mention of fur snagged between Shadepaw's claws, she quickly paused in her grooming to crane her neck around to glance at the evidence presented. Pulling away from Shadepaw's head, she leaned down to examine the tuft of fur more closely, belly growing tight at the familiar coloration of the fur. "Hold still, Shadepaw." She warned softly, before gently nosing at the apprentice's foot in an attempt to gather a scent. Shadepaw's foot mainly reeked of the salty, stinging scent of sweat and the peaty scent of moorland grass, but something was definitely there, even if it was faint. Nosing a bit harder now, she inhaled sharply as she finally caught hold of the faint scent- however instead of feeling relieved, Brindlewhisker felt her heart drop into her belly and her throat close tightly.

Brindlewhisker flinched away from the tuft of fur as if Shadepaw had tried to swipe at her, eyes growing comically wide as she stared down at Shadepaw, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Her heartbeat began to frantically race and blood roared in her ears as many different bits and pieces of idle conversations floated within her obviously distraught mind. She couldn't be right...could she? He would never of done something like this! Even as stupid as he was, he wasn't down-right cruel like this! Brindlewhisker no longer saw the ravaged face of Shadepaw, only the torn, bloodied face of one of her closest friends, Rockpaw and she could no longer smelled the familiar scent of her Clanmates, only the harsh, carrion-tinged scent of Bear. "I..I-i...Ashtar." She finally choked out after vigorously shaking her head, swinging to her head to gaze up at her leader with obvious distress, before glancing back down at Shadepaw and fighting the urge to retch. 'Oh Great Starclan, Rockpaw what have you done?!'

Shadepaw flintched a bit at Brindlewhisker's harsh tone--the apprentice was usually defiant and fiery, and accepted sympathy from no one. But now, she was feeling pathetic and scared, and she hated it. She wanted to thirst for revenge, wanted to brush off her injuries and get right back into training, but she simply lacked the energy or the drive. Everything hurt, she couldn't see (and wondered if she ever would again), and she just wanted to go back in time and prevent it from happening.
Brindlewhisker's tongue stung as it rasped over her injuries, but the feeling of her fur being slowly washed clean of blood was relieving. It clung to her fur, sticky, uncomfortable, and salty. She never wanted to feel it again. Her breathing was slowly beginning to normalise, though it still sounded a little raspy. She felt Brindlewhisker nosing her paw, but she had no idea what to make of the reacting--Brindlewhisker was suddenly stuttering, the fear scent on her suddenly growing strong, but Shadepaw didn't have the energy to find out what was wrong, only dropped her head onto her paws. "What about... My eyes?" She mewed hesitantly, as though she was afraid of the answer.

OOC: wingin it bc Sage has had like zero training, which means I have no ideas wassup exactly. But here ya go

Sagepaw let out a bored sigh as she finished sorting out the last of the herbs. Beetlewing had subjected her to hours upon hours of rigorous training, which was mostly compromised of menial tasks. However, it worked, she supposed. Even if it lacked the clear excitement of warrior training, her mentor's methods at least seemed to be teaching her something. Identifying herbs on sight or smell was quickly becoming a second nature. Thankfully, this meant that herb sorting never took too long. Her paws gently lay down a bit of coltsfoot, careful not to disturb the stack. She nodded to herself in completion. The she-cat hauled herself onto her paws. Hunger gnawed at her stomach. Thoughts of tearing into a soft rabbit to satisfy the urge were interrupted by a flurry of yowls from outside the den.

'Sagepaw!' Instantly, she raced from the medicine cat's den. Shadepaw lay in the center of the clearing. It was obvious something was wrong. Instinctively, her head swung to look for Beetlewing. Her mentor could fix this; he could fix anything. But the familiar pelt was nowhere to be seen. Starclan give me strength, Sagepaw thought quickly, reaching out to Puddlepaw in specific. The late medicine cat apprentice's scent wreathed around her, as if there for reassurance. An urge to act overwhelmed the grey and white she-cat. Her paws carried her to the den. Everything felt surreal as she quickly undid the neat stacks in order to collect a bundle of necessary herbs. I know this. I know this. Her mind looped numbingly. It was true, but the fact she had to handle this alone was a heavy weight. Right before racing back out, Sagepaw remembered poppy seeds. Cobwebs to stop any bleeding, and poppy seeds for the pain. That would be most important.

Sagepaw smelled Shadepaw before seeing her. Outside, it appeared the leader and deputy were questioning the apprentice. She flicked her tail with an unusual authority, willing them to step away from her patient. Sagepaw quickly ordered Shadepaw to take the poppy seeds. Even if it would make her drowsy, it was necessary. Pain was etched over the young cat's face. A pang of sympathy wretched Sagepaw's heart. She would make this cat well. Despite the fact this was not where she longed to be, the clan needed her; she had made her decision. Her small paws set to work immediately, accessing the damage. Once bleeding had been slowed and infection was at bay, Sagepaw stepped back.

"What happened?" Her heart still pounded with adrenaline, but she willed steel into her words. This profession was not for the faint of heart. Sagepaw's green eyes flashed with a wide range of emotions, but all were left unspoken. The question had been directed at Ashstar and Brindlewhisker, as Shadepaw was already beginning to feel the effects of the poppy seeds. Soon, they would move her to the medicine cat den.

Ashstar didn't know how to deal with the flood of cats that gathered around the injured apprentice. Though she acted with confident authority, her insides were a jumbled, unsure mess. All she knew was that ThunderClan needed to pay for what they had done. "Back up, give her some space," she told the assembled crowd, voice commanding but eyes uncertain. She turned her green eyes back to the bloody mess of an apprentice lying on the ground. "You'll be fine, Shadepaw," the leader assured her, telling what she hoped was the truth. "Beetlewing and Sagepaw will fix you up." Turning her head to Brindlewhisker to ask her a question, she was surprised to see her deputy looking shell-shocked, staring at a shred of gray fur between the apprentice's claws. "What's wrong, Brindlewhisker?" the WindClan she-cat asked worriedly, stepping back from Shadepaw as Sagepaw came up with herbs. All other houses faded into the background. What had the she-cat discovered that would make her look like that?

Squirrelsong basked in the sun, enjoying her time off of any patrols or hunting. The mute warrior loved the warm weather, how it soothed the constant ache of her scars and made her drowsy. There was something different about today though that kept nagging her. Snorting slightly, she turned over and tried to sleep. Nothing could go wrong today, it was perfectly fine! But something felt wrong. No, it was more of smells wrong. A metallic scent, one that brought back way too many memories of fangs, and blood, and the sounds of cats screaming at her to wake up. It was the smell of blood. 'Am I hallucinating?' she thought. Snapping her eyes open, the ginger she-cat looked for the source of the smell. 

Rolling over, Squirrelsong would have screamed if she still had a voice. Right there in front of her Shadepaw was bleeding out, lying in a puddle of his own blood. Giving a strangled gasp, she scrambled back, watching Mossfoot, Brindlewhisker, and Ashstar crowd around the tom while Sagepaw watched and asked the poor tom some questions. 'What is happening here!?' sniffing the tom worriedly, she gave a glance to Sagepaw, prodding the ground next to the tom impatiently, trying to say 'Come on, get some herbs or something. You are a medicine cat, aren't you?' 

"Attack me, you fool!"

Ashstar's words were completely lost on Brindlewhisker- the only thing she was able to discern above the roaring in her ears was Bear's chilling yowl that had been so loud at the time, it had seemingly rattled the entire forest. The itchiness of her fully healed scars had transformed into a fierce throbbing that made her teeth grind in an attempt to distract herself from the sharp pain. Shadepaw had morphed into the scrawny, poorly-groomed form of Rockpaw, the young she-cats torn, mangled eye and lips re-purposing itself into the savaged lips and throat that had befallen Rockpaw during his one-sided battle with Bear. Blinking furiously and shaking her head once more, Brindlewhisker forced away the subject of her nightmares and redirected her attention to Shadepaw, trying to keep her limbs from shaking. In her shaken observation, she was further disheartened by the fact that every wound upon Shadepaw's face seemed to match the old ones on Rockpaw's face all those moons ago. The similarities between their wounds was just...too great for it to be a coincidence. 'Was it..him just lashing out because nobody in Thunderclan cares for him?' She wondered in a futile attempt to justify the down right malicious behavior of the cat who was like a son to her.

"I-it..R-Rockpaw- it was Rockpaw." Brindlewhisker finally spluttered, sucking in a shaky breath as she forced herself to refrain from wailing out loud. Several other cats had curiously joined them, likely too focused on the heavily wounded she-cat to really question her anguish. Rockpaw was the closest thing she had to a kit of her own, so the thought of the admittedly troublesome young tom lashing out in such a violent manner made her chest tighten to the point where each breath she desperately sucked in could hardly be properly inhaled. Was this her fault? Should she have kept a closer eye on him after they fought Bear? Brindlewhisker's shoulders slumped in defeat as she realized she could not find an adequate answer to her own questions, and instead found herself despondently watching Sagepaw furiously work at patching up Shadepaw, unable to even feel the slightest bit of pride at the sight of her former apprentice rising to such a difficult challenge. 'A difficult challenge caused by the cat you so foolishly became attached to.' Came the seething, bitter response of her own mind that caused her to flinch. "That's his fur." She uttered, grappling desperately with her composure as she bowed her head slightly, unable to face Ashstar.

Shadepaw was growing more and more drowsy by the second--she wanted to give in and go to sleep, but she was terrified of being unable to wake up. It had been so hard just to regain consciousness the first time... She told herself that it would be okay, though, because Sagepaw was here now, tending to her wounds. She was the medicine cat apprentice, she would know how to help. "I... D-Don't know..." She wasn't sure how many times she had said those three words already--she wished that she could remember, but she simply couldn't. Everyone wanted to know who had done this to her, and she wished that she had some information that could help. But she finally drifted back into unconsciousness without being able to give that information.

The words that she heard next curdled Ashstar's blood. Rockpaw. Mottleheart and Brindlewhisker's friend, the tom who had snuck into WindClan camp, that ThunderClan fox-heart had done this to one of her apprentices?! The leader's green eyes filled with an enraged fire. How dare he? How dare he! Her mind divided into two halves- one filled with uncompromising anger that screamed for the gray WindClan she-cat to murder this Rockpaw herself, and one that reminded her not to follow in the fox-hearted Fishstar's footsteps. But what was she to do? There was no way she would let the tom get away with such an atrocious crime, but she was determined not to be as bloodthirsty and prideful as the RiverClan leader had been. Finally, the two warring sides reached an agreement. She would take Brindlewhisker, Twistedtail and Mossfoot and try to talk some sense into the ThunderClan leader. Darkstar seemed intelligent enough- likely, she would be willing to exile the apprentice on her own terms. "Brindlewhisker, Mossfoot, Twistedtail," she called out, "come with me. We're going to ThunderClan camp." Ashstar strode off into the forest, expecting them to follow. This wouldn't wait any longer.