A Fateful Meeting of Distress [Closed]

Crowstar pulled himself outside of the mothermouth. Well that trip was somewhat of a waste... While he enjoyed the talk with Snowstorm, apologizing once again for what he had done, he didn't learn anything about the prophecy. What did it mean? He just wanted answers but it seemed like they would never come.

The tom let out a sigh as he followed the stoney path down to the Windclan border. He needed to go to the abandoned barn catch himself something to eat and then continue back to Skyclan camp. The black leader didn't even feel relief as he stepped onto the long grass of the Windclan border. Hopefully no cat would get in his way on his way back to camp.

He only made it a little ways towards the barn before he froze at a new scent, one he hadn't really smelled before. It took him a moment before he finally noticed what it was, but by that time it was too late. He saw a dark figure in the low light jump onto his back, and bite down. The leader let out a small howl. He turned his neck to grab the rat and threw it off of him but the one was replaced by two. Two soon replaced with more. The leader fought as hard as he could to get the rats off but it was becoming overwhelming. He needed help and fast. He let out a growl, as he clawed at the rats and bit at the rats. Maybe.. Just maybe someone would help him soon.

Just the faintest breeze was blowing through the moors, the gentle wind comforting to Gustpuddle as she sat on top of one of the largest hills in the territory, allowing her to slow down and think for a moment. The she-cat didn't get much time to stop and relax anymore, what with several apprentices, and the duties of a Senior Warrior constantly beckoning her to all the places she'd rather not be. But now, Brindlewhisker had given her the rest of the day off, and as the sun was slowly setting, she sat and watched. The chirping of birds in the distance was drowned out as she thought over the recent events, what with RiverClan taking all of her Clan's herbs and raiding their freshkill pile, and the upcoming gathering. WindClan had learned to carry on with what little herbs could be found within their reach, and without The Gorge or The Lone Stump, that wasn't much, but they made do. No cat had suffered much because of their injuries, and with ThunderClan's help, they were on the road to recovery. Beside her sat a fairly small mouse and a plump sparrow that she was quite proud of. She knew she didn't have to hunt, but she couldn't help it when the opportunity arose. With a light sigh, she laid her head on her paws, waiting until it was time to return to life back at camp.

The sound of grass rustling in the distance had caught the small warriors attention, and before too long she was hearing snarling and hissing, which she knew too well and heard too often. With a jolt she stood up, taking just a moment to be sure of where it was coming from. She heard another hiss and ran, racing across the moors to reach whoever it was on the wrong end of the predator. As she hurried across the territory, her tail streaming out behind her, she tried to figure out whatever it was that was happening. There were no patrols out right now, they had all come back with prey and reports. Unless there were apprentices fooling around, she had no idea what could be the root of all of the noise. When she finally arrived at the site of the fuss, her eyes grew wide and her racing heart skipped a beat. It was rats. And... Crowstar? What was he doing all the way out here? There were several rats attacking the large, fluffy leader, and she knew just by glancing at the tom that it wasn't going well for him. She shook her head, immediately jumping into the fray to aid the leader, regardless of the fact that he was her enemies' ally.

With a low hiss, the petite she-cat ran leaped onto one of the two remaining rats, scrambling with it to make sure that it couldn't bite her. Even though she didn't know much about herbs, she knew that a bite from a rat could leave a cat dead by the next sunrise. As soon as she gained the upper paw, Gustpuddle smashed a sheathed paw on its back, the sickening sound of it snapping at her blow causing her to wince. Tossing the wretched creature to the side, she focused now on the single rat that remained persistent with its attacks on Crowstar, still latched firmly onto his back. The scarred up She-Cat bounded across the distance that separated them, leaping into the air when the time was right. She bowled into Crowstar's side, knowing it wouldn't hurt him much because of her size and the sheer fact that she had hardly any meat on her bones. The hissing rat was now facing her, all thoughts of Crowstar pushed away. With a single leap, she landed on top of it, biting down on its neck and tuning out the sound of its pain as its life ebbed away.

The bicolored she-cat was out of breath, panting to force air in and out of her lungs. Now that the rats were dealt with, Gustpuddle had so many questions that she wanted to ask the much larger tom. Why was he there? What was he doing? Was he alright? Did he need Mottleheart's help? As soon as her breathing slowed and she composed herself, she rushed over to the tom, who was still laying on the ground. His chest was heaving, which meant that he was breathing, so that gave her a moment of relief. Of course, being a leader, Crowstar had been given nine lives from StarClan. But how many of those did he have left? For all she knew, he could be on his final life, every breath drawing him closer to StarClan. She knew one thing for sure; he didn't have many. As she thought of what she could do to help, she shook the grass and dirt from her fur, letting out a heavy sigh of frustration with it. What was she supposed to do? She was no medicine cat, and Mottleheart was busy with tending to those who called on him for help. Featherlight was most likely running around camp, trying to the best of her ability to help Mottleheart in his ordeal. She sat down in front of him, clueless as to what she could do to help at this point. She'd have to wait for him to wake up, and only StarClan knew what would happen then.

Who..? Who was here and helping him? The black leader remained on the ground his vision blurring. Yellow eye looked up at the small cat that had helped him. He could see blurry colors of the cat, the white mostly standing out to him. "Snowstorm..?" No.. She was dead. Was he dead too? "Am I dead again? But for real this time?" The tom asked unsure if he was among the living or not.. "Everything hurts.."

"I'm no Snowstorm." The petite she-cat muttered. She had no clue who this 'Snowstorm' was, but she had to guess that she looked similar to... whoever it was. She stayed sitting where she was, her ruffled grey and white fur sticking out in all different directions. What was she supposed to do? The toms next statement threw her off a bit, she had temporarily forgotten that this was a leader she was dealing with. "No, you're not dead." 'Not yet, at least.' It was clear that Crowstar was in need of help, but she didn't know what to do. Her limited herbal knowledge held her at bay, but she did know that attacks from rats were often fatal. And even though Crowstar was a leader, she didn't know how many lives he had left. She was almost ready to run off and find Mottleheart, but WindClan's medicine cats were stressed as it was, and they didn't need to care for the cats of opposing Clan's. She was also sure that the KyClan leader wouldn't appreciate being taken to an enemy Clan's medicine cat, even more so because this was no secret ordeal. "Everything hurts..." The tiny WindClanner couldn't help but get upset. She didn't like seeing anyone in pain, especially so if it wasn't their fault in the first place.

She was stuck. She couldn't take him back to her camp, so what in StarClan's name was she supposed to do? Her tail tip flicked back and forth in annoyance, but before too long, she was struck with an idea. The Barn. It was nearby and it wouldn't be too much of a hassle to get there, where Crowstar could recover before returning to his Clan. But how were they supposed to get there? There was no way in Silverpelt that she'd be able to carry him there herself, so what was she supposed to do? "You're going to have to try and get up, Crowstar. You can't stay here in the open like this." There was a tone of urgency in her voice, like something terribly unfortunate would happen if he didn't make it to the barn. Her worried amber eyes stayed on Crowstar's unmoving form, unable to wander anywhere else.

What why? Why was this cat demanding him to get up? Crowstar stood up, slowly and shakily. The cuts on his body screaming in protest. The leader let out a grunt before finally standing fully. "Where are we going?" He asked, taking a step forward before stumbling a bit and leaning against the smaller cat somewhat for support. Who was this cat if they weren't Snowstorm? Why was she helping him?

"I'm taking you to the Barn." As the much larger tom leaned on her for support, she had to push back as to not fall. She took a couple slow steps forward with Crowstar by her side, making sure not to make any quick movements. "I have no clue who Snowstorm is, but they're definitely not me." The grey and white pelted warrior shook her head slightly, trying to figure out who, exactly, the large fluffy tom was talking about. Probably some SkyClan cat that looked similar to her. As the Barn finally came into view, the senior warrior stopped to allow the SkyClan leader a moment of rest, trying her best not to collapse under him.

The barn? Oh.. Yeah. He just got finished talking to Starclan. This cat must have been Windclan right? "If you aren't Snowstorm and I'm not dead, then you are a windclan cat yes?" He still couldn't think too clearly everything hurt. How far were they from the barn? "Are we close to the barn? I don't think I can move much more.." The tom asked. He wanted to get there soon.

"I am a WindClan cat, that's correct." Gustpuddle thought she'd never figure out who Snowstorm was. "The Barn is right in front of us, Crowstar." If he couldn't see how close the Barn was to them, something was seriously wrong. She didn't know how she was going to fix it, but it would have to happen. "Let's get you settled down." She walked forwards and into the soft warmth of the barn, hoping that Crowstar would lay down and relieve the weight from her side. She had already spotted some cobwebs that could be used to stop some of the bleeding, and if she had to she'd catch a mouse that hid in the shadows.

Everything was blurry. That is why he didn't notice if the barn was in front of them or not. The black fluffy leader could soon fell the straw under his paws and settled down as soon as the Windclan cat left his side. This she-cat looked like Snowstorm. "I kind of wish you were Snowstorm. I'm glad I'm not dead but I would like to see my old mate again.. You remind me of her.." He didn't understand why he was admitting this to a cat he didn't know. All he knew was that, and the fact that everything hurt.