Sorry Soul[OPEN]

continued(and some copypaste) from this thread

Blossomheart had dashed out of camp as fast as her legs would go. Then the tears came. Her kit, her own kit had killed a cat! She'd failed as a mother. No matter how hard she tried, she'd never be good enough. Because of her failure, a Windclan apprentice had died. She didn't deserve to have Russetpelt and her kits. It was her bad parenting that had led to this. She tried so hard, and it would never be enough. Hazelpaw is a good cat, she convinced herself, I deserve the punishment. Not her. She sat down among the trees. Tears streamed like rivers, leaving puddles on the ground. The day would be considered nice if it weren't for the situation at hand. She didn't want to go back. Back to camp. Back to her den. Back to her family. Overwhelming guilt washed over her just as she began to calm down, and she began to sob vigorously, making her feel like she was at a loss for breath. How could she do this!? A cat was gone from the forest! An apprentice, and of Windclan. Her irresponsible parental actions had resulted in a death. How was this even possible?

Gillpaw walked along the treetops. He needed some time to think. Then he spotted Blossomheart. She was sobbing and Gillpaw figured that if no one helped her she might (given time) turn out like himself. Well, can't let that happen. Thought Gillpaw. He leaped silently down from his tree and walked up behind her in his signature creepy way. "It was no one's fault Blossomheart. Everything that had happened was a mistake. It's a lovely day out. Wouldn't you prefer to spend it hunting for the clan than weeping? It won't do Hazelpaw nor anyone help if you're out here crying alone.

"Lovely, you say?" She asked coldly. "Fantastic. Every word of that sentence was wrong. A murder has to be someone's fault and if it was a lovely day, none of this would have happened. I'd much rather be running from my problems, thank you very much, but Starclan makes no mistake. It was destiny that forced my life to be this way. So if you'd very kindly leave my presence, I'd like to be alone." A chill swept through her voice, and her usually warm amber eyes were colder than a Leafbare's night. She stood and walked away, trying to seem prim and proper, but the forest was only so big. What if she ran away? Become a rogue and never come back. She could hunt for herself, she could provide for her own. Did Russetpelt even love her anymore? He didn't seem to acknowledge that she had left.

Gillpaw sighed. "Fine. Leave. If you are so upset that you can't acknowledge the fact that you're needed than fine. But the rogues advancing. We need more warriors. Though I suppose you don't care that I might be lying dead tomorrow along with everyone you love. If you truly hate Skyclan that much, why would we need you anyways?!" Gillpaw spat the lost words. He stalked off back to camp.

Blossomheart stopped sharply, tensing. The words rang in her ears. "Fine. Leave. If you are so upset that you can't acknowledge the fact that you're needed, then fine. But the rogues are advancing. We need more warriors. Though I suppose you don't care that I might be lying dead tomorrow along with everyone you love. If you truly hate Skyclan that much, why would we need you anyways?!" He had hit a sensitive nerve. The stress was getting overwhelming. Her heart began to beat rapidly as the tension rose inside her. She began to feel faint and hot. Her legs were shaking. She dug her claws into the ground, panting, as the fangs of pain squeezed her heart. She collapsed on the ground clutching her chest. Her eyes rolled back and her head hit a root. The world became an empty abyss. The she-cat lay with blood slowly pooling around where her head hit. Scenes ran through her head. Tyr dying. The faceless rogues entering camp like the dogs that killed Crowstar. Russetpelt bleeding out on the hard dirt. Hazelpaw's eyes, filled with fear as they cornered her. Acornpaw, Tinypaw, all of her kits, Lionpaw, Blazingfire and Poplartooth, all dying, dead, or about to be killed. Blood splattered before her. And Blossomheart could do nothing about it. Every single cat she cared about.
Gone.

Acornpaw walked up to her mother, worried for her.  "Mother?  Mother!" she said as she suddenly saw Blossomheart's body on the ground.  "Oh, StarClan... What should I do?" she said almost silently.

Blossomheart heard pawsteps. "Mother? Mother!" An agitated Acornpaw called. Blossomheart ran towards the sound. In front of the apprentices' den cowered her daughter, being tortured by rogues. Blossomheart's paws passed right through it all. She had to watch as her daughter was brutally bloodied. Swiping over the eyes, slicing the tail, the rogues caused her own daughter to shriek with pain as Blossomheart looked on. The fluffy cat barely stirred at all at the call.

Nightstorm followed Acornpaw out of the camp, prepared to lead the apprentice on a hunting patrol, but at the sight of Blossomheart's unconscious body those plans were quickly derailed.  His leaf-green eyes widening, he let out an alarmed cry before rushing up to stand beside the apprentice, and her mother's limp form.  "Blossomheart, Blossomheart, wake up!"  She was still breathing - barely - but blood was pooling on the ground around her head.  His jaw stiffening with resolve, he turned to Acornpaw and hissed; "Go back to camp and get Mintpaw!"  Placing a paw gently on her shoulder, he nudged the pale ginger warrior, searching for any sign of response.

Acornpaw immediately dashed back to camp to get Mintpaw.

Gillpaw was walking through the forest and heard some commotion. "Meh... Blossom is probably fine."

Another voice rang. "Go back to camp and get Mintpaw!" She felt a paw on her shoulder. They were in camp, but she looked around anyway. Shakily, she trotted into Mintpaw's den. Of course, rogue-scent, herb-scent and blood-scent combined to make a sickening mixture. She turned and ran. The minute she stepped paw out of camp, the fear was over. In its place, only pain. Blossomheart only barely murmured something. Most likely it was sleeptalking, but she was beginning to come back from her fall.

OOC: basically, blossom had a heart attack and hit her head on a root/rock/something. Now she is unconscious and having nightmares. These are not omens of the rogue attacks, they are just pure fear and dreams.

Mintpaw jumped when Acornpaw dashed into her den. The taupe apprentice leaped to her feet, grabbing the nearest herbs- Foxglove seeds, raspberry leaves, poppy seeds, cobwebs, and juniper berries -and raced after the apprentice into the territory.
"Great Starclan."
Blossomheart was on the ground, her eyes shut tightly. A vein was popping in the she-cat's jaw, and she was twitching. "Get back!" She hissed, her murky eyes wild. Her head was bleeding. Without hesitation, Mintpaw spread the cobwebs onto the she-cat's wound, carefully pushing the she-cat onto her side so she could better cover the wound. This would have to do until Blossomheart made it back to camp.
If Blossomheart could make it back to camp. She had already lost one patient, and she couldn't lose another.
Now that the immediate danger had been dealt with, Mintpaw needed to make a decision, and quickly. The small, short-legged apprentice purred to calm herself down, giving the she-cat a hurried check over. Even as she struggled to find something wrong with the she-cat, other than the obvious, of course, the Medicine Cat apprentice could feel her heart rising. She shook her head, turning away. There was no use panicking, not now...
The taupe apprentice quickly turned to her herb pile, swallowing the purple-blue berries. Juniper berries would calm her mind and allow her to push away the stress she usually felt, although compared to what the young she-cat had gone through... With all the stress that Blossomheart was under, she was surprised her heart hadn't given out by now.
Mintpaw gasped softly. Her heart.
Featherlight had only gone over this once, and the she-cat had seemed rather unsure of herself as well. "Her heart. I-It's... something's wrong with her heart..." She young medicine cat turned towards the herbs she had brought. Where was it? The seeds were practically useless; she had only gathered them because Goldeneye insisted she had some on hand. She would have to thank the she-cat later. Finally, the tabby's eyes landed on the small, glittering black seeds. "Nightstorm, hold her mouth open." The she-cat's eyes didn't leave her patient. There was no time to wait for the warrior to return to consciousness. Blossomheart had to be treated as soon as possible.

Nightstorm jumped away from the unconscious she-cat when the light brown tabby healer arrived, and watched her as she began her work.  His worried green eyes examining her every move, the shiny black tom was about to open his mouth to ask if he could be of any use when she gave him an order.  Hold her mouth open...yes!  Lowering himself onto his haunches, the newly-named warrior used his forepaws to part Blossomheart's quivering jaws as wide as he thought would be comfortable.  "L..Like this?"  The intelligent tom was not used to being unsure, and it reflected in his voice.  He could only pray that Blossomheart would be okay, for her family's sake.