The Bleeding Never Stops [Open]

ooc: this topic is a follow up of the one found here

It felt like an eternity before Mumblefoot could see the camp. His chest fluttered with a brief excitement. But, as he glanced down at his paws, it died away. His paws were normally white. As he remembered the scene in camps days earlier, his stomach churned for a moment. There was no reason for him to be helping this cat, yet he couldn't have just left her there. The hopelessness in his chest rose up again as he noted the extent of the damage. So close. He tugged with all his might to get the rogue through the entrance as soon as he could. The thought of her life slipping away like Crowstar's had was... less than appealing.

As soon as he burst through the entrance, he let go of her scruff and yowled louder than he ever had, "I need Mintpaw, now! This cat is dying!"

Mintpaw raced out of her den at her friend Mumblefoot's call, her murky green eyes wild and her mind racing. Was there a war? Foxes? A war with foxes? The taupe apprentice felt panic rising in her chest as she pushed her way past her clanmates. Since Crowstar's death, anxiety and fear always seemed to be lurking just below the surface of the Medicine Cat apprentice's usually calm appearance. She wasn't sure she could take much more of this. The small apprentice burst through the gathering crowd, skidding to a stop and sending a haze of dust into the air. "Starclan..." Mintpaw's jaw dropped and she froze for a moment as the dust settled, her murky green eyes fixed on the horrifying sight before her. "W-what..." She stuttered weakly as she struggled to process the sight before her.
Then suddenly, Mintpaw was back. "Bring her to my den. I'll see what I can do, but..." Mintpaw looked doubtful as she hurried back to her den, her head low.

Blossomheart was about to see if Minpaw needed any help tending to the newcomer when Tyr collapsed on the floor. He rushed over to the young she-cat, using her head to nudge Tyr back to her feet. "Hold on just a little longer," She said.

OOC: blossom's voice is soothing like honey so
keep that in mind
unless she's yelling
then she sounds like your mom

Tyr could barely hear anything. The pain was becoming unbearable. Her vision went black. she was unconscious.

OOC:
Please excuse my sucky Roleplay. I've been stuck in hell for 24 years, so I'm a bit rusty.

ooc: sorry it took a few days. i knew a mega post was coming so i wanted to make sure i had proper time for it

Mumblefoot helped to guide the she-cat in the direction of the medicine cat's den. His mind was troubled with worry, as per usual. But, at least Mintpaw was here. The hesitation in her voice made him unsure of whether or not this rogue would make it through the night. It seemed like most of her blood had poured out on the forest floor as he dragged her back to camp, so the slow subsiding of the flow did nothing to calm his fears. He stood just at the entrance in an attempt to stay out of the way, but to also look at what was happening. Somewhere within him, there was the stupid belief that Mintpaw could magically heal the wounds then and there with the power of Starclan.

His daughter's voice caused his head to snap up and his eyes tore away from the gruesome scene that was there. Not something Drizzlepaw needed to see. Mumblefoot turned and used his nose to nudge her in the opposite direction, away from where the medicine cat had set to work healing her newest patient. Thankfully, she was not the kind to turn away any cat. After a few pawsteps, he finally meowed, "I missed you too, Drizzlepaw..." His voice trailed off into a faint sigh before he glanced worriedly back at the den, "A cat was very hurt today. She's in Starclan's paws now." Any hint of joy that came from reveling in the presence of his child, died away due to his lack of certainty about everything happening right now. His ear twitched at the sound of pawsteps.

Rippedstar had been in Crowstar's den, per usual as of late. He seldom left outside of the duties that were inherently given to any clan leader. Outside of that, he ignored the implicit duty of being relational with his clan. It was in their best interest that he stayed away for now. They did not need the emotionally broken side of him that was hidden away in that den. A yowl from his son was what caused his head to stir from its normal position upon his paws. After taking a deep breath, he laboriously rose up onto all four paws. With a quick glance over his pelt, the leader only managed another sigh. Although there was clearly a pressing matter outside, the fact that it had not been followed up with more yowls or any cat coming to grab him, he assumed he had a moment to correct the disorderly fur of his coat. His tongue felt as numb and tasteless as the rest of him as it removed dirt and debris.

As soon as that moment was over, the recently groomed leader stepped out of the den. He felt an ounce better about the fact his pelt was no longer in disarray. Dull eyes scanned the clearing to find the source of the sound. Cats crowded around the medicine cat's den. There was a prickle of concern as he padded over towards where Mumblefoot stood with Drizzlepaw. If any cat had answers, it would be the tailless son of his. After all, he was the one who had sounded the call, "What is going on, Mumblefoot? What happened?"

"There was a cat in the forest, a rogue, all torn up... s-she's with Mintpaw now. The whole place smelled of rogue, a few different ones." The smaller black and white tom quickly explained as he looked up to meet the hardened stare of his father. He wasn't sure if it was worse now than it was before. Although he had always been distant from his father, Mumblefoot found himself wishing now that the painfully, ever joyous tom would return to them instead of this distant and borderline cold figure. As a low his broke from the leader, he couldn't help but flinch ever so slightly.

"First dogs and now rogues. If you ever see something like that again, come find me first before going to Mintpaw." Rippedstar's tail tip twitched slightly in a mild aggravation brought on only by a deeply buried fear for his clan. After mulling over what to do for a moment, he added, "Go find Poplartooth and tell him I want all apprentices returned to camp and then patrols sent out to make sure every inch of the territory is searched. If these rogues are still around at all, they are to be chased off or killed." The blood that stained the ground gave away the extent of damage they had done on a fellow rogue. He couldn't imagine how viciously they would tear into one of his clanmates if allowed. Later on, he would make an announcement about not leaving camp without a warrior. In fact, he would make sure he personally knew which cats were out of camp and which ones were not. The thought of wanting to retreat into the comfortable numbness that embraced him in Crowstar's den was now a distant memory. He was not a horrible leader, even if he struggled to adjust to the role and balance processing his own internal and deep hurt. After he watched the warrior nod stiffly, Rippedstar padded away to Mintpaw's den.

His meow was deep, almost demanding answers as much as he asked for them, "How is she?"