He will do what it takes to survive (Open)

Morningfog woke up to the worried chattering of her clanmates. She slipped out the den to smell something odd, it was too strong for her to tolerate and sent her on a coughing fit. "What's going on? The blind she-cat said, tired from the loss of Wishpaw, Toadpaw, and the stress of the mystery surrounding him.

Flowerpaw ran to her mother, panting. "We've got to get out of here- there's a fire..."

Shellwater's scarred nose didn't alert her to the scent of smoke in time. She likely wouldn't have awoken at all if not for one of her two living daughters, Splashpaw, frantically calling out her name. Rousing her unwilling body from the deep and empty sleep in which she had been floating, the RiverClan experienced warrior was shocked to find the den empty and hear desperate cries from outside. As she peeked anxiously outside, her burnished orange eyes reflected the strange light of the terrifying sight they saw. The air was filled with a thick black haze, and heat rolled over her in waves as the calico she-cat padded out of the warriors' den and up to the rest of the cats gathered near the camp entrance. Her paws were numb as she ran quickly over to her apprenticed kit, wailing for her family members in the confusion and panic. "Shhh. Shh, Splashpaw, I'm here. It's okay. I've got you." The scarred black-and-orange warrior pressed her weight comfortingly into her daughter's side, having no tail to wrap around her shoulders. But her reassuring words were empty and hollow as she gazed out at the territory being consumed by tall, hungry flames. StarClan... StarClan, no... Can you never give me rest?! Lionfur, Sleetfang, Toadpaw, Snowpaw, Otterleap, and now you're taking away my home? Why not just end it now? Why put me through such misery? Have I ever doubted you? Have I not been a faithful warrior? Why, then, would you do this to me? Her inner pain, flooding from her shattered heart, was reflected only in her despairing eyes as she watched, still as a statue, her beloved home disappearing into a mess of thick black smoke and stifling tongues of fire.

Divine punishment..

It would be fitting, wouldn't it? Fishstar had disrespected the peace of Gatherings more times than she could remember. She'd driven ThunderClan out of their territory on a whim, and taken their camp and hunting grounds as her own. She'd launched a full-scale attack on WindClan for one cat's fell deed. She'd denied weary travelers a place to stay. Perhaps this was what had been in store for her for many moons, and for every misdeed she'd committed, StarClan was allowing another foxlength of her territory to burn away into ash.

Maybe the deputy was right, but strangely, Fishstar couldn't find a shred of remorse inside of her. If StarClan could really see the future, and had granted her nine lives despite knowing they would have to bring their wrath down upon her and her Clan, then she would not honor them with remorse. Besides, they'd taken her mate, her brother, one of her sisters, her other sister's mobility, and too many of her kits away from her before their time.

They were not ancestors very worthy of honor anymore.

"It wouldn't surprise me." The tabby narrowed her eyes at the darkening sky, finally tearing her gaze away from the smoke.

Before she could say anything else, a hoarse voice interjected.

---

"Get the medicine cat!"

Snakegaze had been out searching for a lost kit - that being Icekit - when the fires had seemingly sprung up out of nowhere. He'd barely had time to react before columns of flames had leaped into the air around him, and festering black smoke had began to fill his lungs and eyes. Every part of him had screamed to cross the river as swiftly as possible to escape the blaze, but Icekit had still been missing. What kind of warrior would he have been if he'd returned to camp empty-pawed?

It had been agonizing, darting around the blaze and breathing in smoggy air, but eventually, beneath a decaying log, he'd discovered Icekit. She hadn't been breathing, and Snakegaze hadn't even been sure if she'd been alive or not, but nonetheless, he'd bit her scruff and turned tail towards the river.

By the time he'd finally reached camp and set the kit down in the clearing, the extent of her injuries became clear. Much of the fur on her upper back had been burned away. The left side of her face hurt to even look at. Where the skin wasn't blackened and twisted, it was an angry red.

Finchpaw nodded obediently in response to Ivyfall's order, and began to inspect the edges of camp, checking for any kits, or cats in general, who had strayed too far from safety.  Not finding anyone, she returned to the main clearing and was greeted by Nutpaw, and went to join her friend as they splashed water on the reeds edging the island camp.  Finchpaw didn't speak; she was too focused on her mission, and besides if she used her voice it would reveal her current intense fear, having to restrain every muscle in her body to keep from either collapsing or running away.  What if the fire doesn't go out in the end?  What if it comes here, and devours us all?  What if-  Suddenly, the cry of Snakegaze rang in her ears, and she turned to see the tom holding a badly burned kit.  With a shocked yowl, the silver and white apprentice dashed over to the warrior without a second thought, and tried her best to inspect the unconscious kit.  She was no medicine cat, but the young she-cat had always held a connection to kits; still, Icekit needed a medicine cat.  "Cloudstone!  Come quickly!"

Cloudstone stopped his aggravated pacing to rush to Icekit's side, grimacing at her wounds. Swallowing his resentment towards the leader's attitude to the situation, he sorted through his herbs to find what he needed. The thought that he was running on a limited supply was not out of mind. The tom skidded to a stop, nosing the kitten to see if she was still conscious. He set aside the poppy and ragweed for later, first applying a poultice to her face, having mixed mashed goldenrod and grounded bits of willow bark. He looked up the the apprentice near him. "Finchpaw, could you please bring me some moss? Don't take the water from the river, use the puddle in my den."

At the medicine cat's commend, Finchpaw nodded obediently and dashed off toward Cloudstone's den, quickly finding a ball of moss and the aforementioned puddle. Quickly soaking it in the cool, refreshing water, the silver and white tabby molly returned to the clearing, drips of liquid splashing onto her chest, soaking her long fur. She held the moss up for Cloudstone to grab, and couldn't help but take another look at the poor burned kit. An odd feeling overtook her, a wave of fierce protectiveness that she had never felt before, but she ignored it.