The Scars of Our Sacrifices {open} {MC needed}

A continuation of this topic.

A calico pelt was gently lowered to the ground by a panting warrior, the green flame of fear in his eyes. "We need a medicine cat now!" Flintfang yowled to the cats surrounding him, feeling as if he was going to be sick. His adopted daughter Mosspaw was stretched out on the mud, unconscious, blood pouring from four large gashes in her chest. Flintfang was not without wounds either. Large bite marks were torn from his pelt, searing with pain. But the warrior was numb to it, and only cared for his daughter's safety now. If she died he would never forgive himself. The two figures resided on the large shore that the Clans had claimed as home for the last few sunrises. Skinny Twoleg nests dotted the landscape, and stood over Mosspaw's bleeding frame, as if they were judging her situation. Cats had gathered now, circling the chaos, and watching with wide eyes. Flintfang hated it. Why weren't they doing anything? "Don't just stand there! Get me some leaves or cobwebs! Anything to stop the blood!" There was a snarl to his voice, as the warrior swung his head to and fro. He pressed his paws up against his daughter's chest but the blood kept coming. How was life so cruel? First StarClan casts the cats away from their clans, and next they send a raccoon to attack the survivors? Eat dirt StarClan! That's what Flintfang thought of it. He didn't care for prophecies or starry warriors. The tom would make his own destiny. And Mosspaw would live, no matter the cost.

The tom's mind was hazy from fatigue, red mist grew at the edges of his vision, and Flintfang's body swayed. His paws faltered, but the tom stayed upright, fighting the pain with all his power. He felt like a leader at a gathering, with all eyes trained on him. But I have nothing to say... Flintfang groaned, gazing at Mosspaw. I only want her alive, that's my verdict. Gathering dismissed. He wished these cats would leave, wished they'd show some respect. The tom only wanted a medicine cat. Only wanted Mosspaw's safety. I can't lose anyone else...

”Mosspaw!” Dewpaw shrieked and dropped his jaw and stared at his mentor or Mosspaw. He scramble dover to Mosspaw, igniting his mentor. ”What happened?@“ He yelled. ”Your her father you need to protect her!” He cried out. ”She’s knocked out and your stuck up pelt is still staring! No cats know what to do so done expect them to take your orders. Go do something!” He screamed and curled around Mosspaw, dragging her close.

The twoleg nest which had been serving as shelter for the sick and injured survivors of the flood was quiet. The soft sounds of breathing, gentle talking, and shuffling around were present, but the day had been strangely peaceful. Amberdawn had spent the morning treating and re-treating various wounds with the collection of herbs she and a few apprentices had been lucky to find. Once she'd finished with that, she sorted through what herbs she had left to see what else might be useful. Anything, she thought, though it wasn't as dismal a thought as it might have been a few days prior. They had found cobwebs and moss, horsetail and chervil... A lot. There were even more herbs out in the forest that they had left to harvest later if they needed it.

And they would.

As Amberdawn had contemplated what herbs she might find useful, she had, without realizing it, slowly begun to sink down. The SkyClan medicine cat dozed off with thoughts of wounds and poultices. She had been resting for what couldn't have been more than a few minutes when a yowling, terrified voice shattered the silence. Amberdawn immediately jolted awake and registered the words: "We need a medicine cat now!"

Partly disoriented by the fact that she'd not even realized she'd fallen asleep, Amberdawn stumbled to her paws and dashed to the entrance of the twoleg nest in which she had been staying.

Already a crowd had gathered, but the scent of blood in the air was unmistakable. Unable to see past gathered cats to fully assess the situation, Amberdawn darted back in to the twoleg and raced back to her collection of herbs, snatching up the moss and a carefully collected bunch of cobwebs. She had no time to waste; if the blood smelled that strongly, then the herbs needed to wait until some pressure had been applied and the bleeding slowed. Outside, the same voice snarled with anger, frustration, and what Amberdawn had come to understand was fear. The golden tabby she-cat raced back out, shouldering through the crowd. She wanted to call out "Excuse me!" or "Let me through!", but with her jaws full of moss she had no time.

"Mosspaw!" a familiar voice cried in terror just an instant before Amberdawn broke through the crowd. "You're her father - you need to protect her!"

The scene before her made her fur stand on end and her stomach sink. Sure enough, there lay Mosspaw, limp as fresh-kill with blood pulsing from four deep gouges in her chest. Dewpaw, who had yowled in fear and anger moments earlier, had launched himself at Mosspaw and was dragging her unconscious and bleeding form across the dirt to him. Immediately Amberdawn raced up to Dewpaw and meowed in a firm tone, "Dewpaw, you need to move. I need to treat Mosspaw's wounds and I can't do that if you're dragging her around and stepping all over her." She was aghast; she could hardly believe that Dewpaw could have been so rough with her right after snapping at the ThunderClan warrior for not being useful.

"If you want to be helpful, go fetch me all the herbs that we got on the patrol yesterday," Amberdawn instructed, waiting for Dewpaw to get out of her way so that she could place the moss on the injuries to slow the bleeding. Her dark amber eyes looked to the ThunderClan tom, shaking with rage and worry, and she asked shortly but with due concern, "You were with her? What's your name? What happened?" Her own fears for the she-cat she had just befriended were boiling under the surface, but she was the only one who could save Mosspaw. If she wanted to do that, she'd need to keep her own emotions under wraps.

A few agonizing moments passed, Flintfang still with his paws pressed up against his daughter's chest. They were soaked now, doing little to stop the blood that flowed from her body. His green eyes were glazed over, heightened in a worried state, maw slightly parted to portray his fear. A orange and white cat ran from crowd, and for a hopeful moment, Flintfang thought it could be the SkyClan medicine cat, who shared a similar fur pattern. But this figure was not that of healing, instead, it was Flintfang's apprentice, whom he had saved from a watery death not but a few sunrises ago. His presence wasn't one hoped for, but could definitely be worked with. "Dewpaw!" Flintfang breathed, voice cracking with worry. "Go and grab some leaves or cobwebs, something that will stop the bleeding, hurry!" Flintfang hoped for a mere moment, that he and his apprentice could set aside their differences and work together for once, to save the life of his daughter. But Dewpaw had other plans. The younger tom pressed his face into Flintfang's, hissing and screeching as if all of LionClan were fighting him. The amount of anger that resided in Dewpaw shocked even Flintfang, but when he attempted to drag Mosspaw closer to him, that was the last straw.

"Paws off my daughter. Now." Flintfang's voice was dangerous, never wavering in tone, but every word was spoken with a seriousness, each syllable pronounced with boundless amounts of anger, every flick of his tongue like a claw slashing through the air. If it weren't for the golden tabby pelt that had appeared in the clearing, Flintfang may have tackled his pupil to the ground. But Amberdawn was here, the Medicine Cat of SkyClan that Flintfang had heard about but never meant. Relief washed over the warrior, taking a seat next to both feelings of worry and anger that wrestled in his heart.

"I'm Flintfang…" The tom explained to the golden tabby, voice shifting from one of protection, to one of fear. "Mosspaw and I went hunting farther up the shore... There was a raccoon, I managed to kill it, but..." He looked down at the form of his daughter, gashes wide in her chest. The visuals spoke the rest of the story. The tom could only hope Amberdawn would understand. He took a step back to allow her some space to do whatever medicine cats did. Every muscle in his body screamed to stay by Mosspaw's side, but a tail length of distance had to be made. Flintfang only now realized that his muscles had been bunched, as if ready for a fight. Relaxing them a bit, the gray tabby began to pace around his daughter and Amberdawn, desperately wanting to be actively doing something to help. "Do you need herbs? Or water? I can get some bedding for Mosspaw's nest..." Maybe if Flintfang kept his mind occupied, he wouldn't have to think about Mosspaw's struggle with death.

”Well if you hadn’t taken them I’d know where they were.” He rolled his eyes to the medicine cat. Maybe if he paid more attention to simple things he’d be better off. [b]”Don’t touch her? If you can bearly contain your apprentice and this happened to your daughter you’d be better off working elsewhere.” He hissed at the She-Cats father. He noticed there was little chunks of mud in her wounds so with his nimble paws he sat on the other side of Mosspaw and picked out the mud with his claw, making sure not to hurt her.

Some time had passed since the discovery of his brother's death and Burntstag felt significantly unchanged. Underneath his cool facade, the tom's stomach churned with the notion that this was perhaps a perfect opportunity to build the change he so desperately craved. The thoughts flitted back and forth between that notion and something stirring about the image of Slatestrike's unmoving frame. He still had not quite placed the emotion that seemed to plague him since but instead of slowing his steps it puzzled him. The Shadowclan warrior had set about the work of scoping out their surrounding as well as seeking out as many of his beloved clanmates and kin as he could. Thankfully, Flintfang's path had brought him here as well. While he did not believe in fate, it seemed like it was on their side, drawing them together at every turn and preparing them for the inevitable.

And Silentpaw was here too. Reassurance that some were not lost to him, Littlepaw included while Dawnpaw and Duskpaw were still a mystery. He tried not to think about it as he weaved through the sparse shrubbery that lined the outside of the mildly dilapidated twoleg structure. There was a scrawny vole that he had found scurrying near the muddied shore. It appeared that the prey around here was not used to so many predators and the early change in the season seemed to have confused them as well. Regardless, no matter how sparse, it had been an easy catch. He prepared to return to the makeshift camp. A soft smile crossed his maw at the thought of the clans gathered together. Scorchstar's leadership before them was only accommodation of circumstance. But perhaps this meant there was hope for the future planned. After this blew over and the waters had resided, there would be plenty to discuss with Shadowclan's current leadership.

His train of thought was interrupted by a familiar yowl that rang through the air. Flintfang. The creature was grasped even more firmly in his teeth as he gritted them together and raced in the direction of the sound. What he came upon was a chaotic scene. Flintfang was there, thankfully still standing despite injuries he had sustain. It was like when they face the owl, his strength was on true display. As he rounded the group, Burntstag caught bits and pieces of conversation and was able to draw several conclusions. Present was a medicine cat, Flintfang's daughter, and a less than welcome guest. Eyes narrowed as he stood before the trio. Despite their attempts to help save the unconscious she-cat's life, it seemed the other apprentice was foolishly denying such care. The was his claws picked through the other Thunderclan cat's fur caused his teeth to grind further into the vole in frustration. While he did not know the younger pair, it seemed his companion had some opinions.

"Are apprentice's suddenly taking on mates, or are you simply forcing your paws onto an injured cat, denying the care you seem to believe she needs?" Burntstag's voice was scathing as he brushed past his friend in a silent greeting. Handling the current... situation seemed to be more urgent than a greeting. The prey had been dropped from his maw, near the Skyclan medicine cat, and he had shot her a brief apologetic look before speaking. As the end of the question dripped from his maw, he dipped his head to embed his teeth into the Thunderclan apprentice's scruff and dragged him off of Mosspaw's pelt in a rather ungracious manner before spitting him onto the ground as well, "It would do you good to know your place within your own clan, kit. And leave the healing to the medicine cats."

Amberdawn had not been a full medicine cat for three moons, and she had only ever come into contact with cats who wanted to help her do her job - or at least get out of her way to ler her do her job. When she had instructed the young ThunderClan tom to move, she had expected him to do so. When she had asked him to fetch herbs to help the she-cat he seemed to so desperately care for, she had expected him to sprint off. Instead, Amberdawn nearly didn't process when he replied, "Well, if you hadn’t taken them I’d know where they were."

For a heartbeat or two, Amberdawn stood dumbfounded by his response. She stammered, "Wh...? Th-They're in the barn, just by the entrance. Go get them!" The tom did not move. He did not acknowledge her. He ignored her, even, the cat who was trying to save Mosspaw's life! The tom even dared to use his claws to dig in the she-cat's wounds! The SkyClan medicine cat's fur was beginning to prickle and stand on end, and she would hardly be able to keep from regarding Dewpaw with a disdainful look if not for the fact that her face was dark with dejection, worry, and hurt. Dewpaw had no intention of moving, and Amberdawn feared for Mosspaw's life each second that the blood pumped from her wounds.

"I'm Flintfang," the tom managed, surprising Amberdawn as she'd forgotten the question she asked in her surprise. The ThunderClan tom went on to explain that the two of them had run into a raccoon, and Amberdawn nodded; raccoon claws were vicious, but they cut cleanly and had no more ill-effects than any other claws. If not for the precious time being wasted, Mosspaw's injuries might not be such a concern. Flintfang asked, beginning to pace, "Do you need herbs? Or water? I can get some bedding for Mosspaw's nest..."

Amberdawn's own paws were working at the moss she had collected and she replied, her voice high with distress, "Herbs - please! They're just inside the barn; you can't miss them."

A voice that Amberdawn didn't recognize suddenly broke through the tension, a scalding tone that she was instantly relieved to realize wasn't directed at her. An impossibly stunning ShadowClan warrior came stalking through the crowd, imposing with his thick coat of vivid colors. The SkyClan medicine cat's tail tucked lightly with intrepidation as the tom made his way towards her, though his flaming expression had clearly landed on Dewpaw. Amberdawn's dark amber gaze watched, wide-eyed, as the tom dropped a piece of prey at her side before immediately swooping down on Dewpaw's scruff like an impatient mother wrestling a hapless kit.

Immediately upon Dewpaw's removal, Amberdawn surged forward, shoving herself between Dewpaw and Mosspaw's unconscious body while the bold ShadowClan warrior dragged Dewpaw away. The golden tabby she-cat delicately rolled Mosspaw onto her back and grabbed two thick clumps of moss to press firmly onto the wounds. Just a matter of moments and it had soaked, but already it was slowing. Stupid tom wasted time! Amberdawn thought, angry despite herself. Hold on, Mosspaw, Flintfang and I will help you.

OOC: Mosspaw is waking up!

As she closed her eyes, she began to feel... Pain. A harsh, burning pain that enveloped her entire being and made her want to yowl to the sky, but it hurt too much to even attempt doing something like that. Stars, where was this pain even coming from?

~~~

A small flick of the tail here... A slight movement of a paw there... and suddenly Mosspaw knew that she no longer walked through the territory of StarClan, rather, she was back on this shore that had become their temporary home.

The calico apprentice realized through the pain that she was on her back, and felt something firm being pressed against her chest. She tried to take in a deep breath, but quickly let out a pained hiss as sharp aching spread through her body. Mosspaw's eyes flickered open, shutting quickly against the harsh rays of the newleaf sun before she slowly blinked them open. Her eyes, still adjusting to the light that shone so differently from where she had just been, focused on the first cat she saw poised above her. After a moment of confusion, recognition flooded her expression as she realized it was Amberdawn standing over her, pressing... something, into her chest. "Amb.... Amberdawn... Her voice cracked as she spoke, coming out in a raspy whisper. She weakly tried to lift her head, but her neck wasn't able to hold and it quickly fell back to the ground. "It... hurts...."

Flintfang's blood boiled as his apprentice shifted closer to his daughter, attempting to clean her wounds with his entitled paws. The warrior's maw stretched in a low growl, blood-stained teeth flashing in the light. But another sound reached his ears, Amberdawn's voice was muffled at first, blurred out by Flintfang's anger, but soon it came into focus. ...just inside the barn; you can't miss them. The gray tabby narrowed his eyes, gazing at the medicine cat. Herbs? Were the herbs inside the barn? His green gaze flickered to one of the distant twoleg nests, wondering how fast he could run there. But Dewpaw was still here, hovering... As much as Flintfang wanted to fly over to the nest and grab whatever herbs were needed, his paws couldn't bring him to stray from his apprentice. A seething anger kept him rooted to the spot.

A tri-colored pelt brushed past the warrior and Flintfang blinked for a second, feeling as if all the forest just flashed before his eyes. But he knew that scent. It was the feeling of change, of better things. Burntstag stood before the gray tabby, speaking a few chilling words to Dewpaw before forcibly removing him from Mosspaw's frame. Even in this action, the tom carried himself with a glaring confidence. One that seemed to still the clearing and calm those around him. "Burntstag." Flintfang dipped his head quickly, feeling as if he had witnessed a miracle. With the contradiction removed, the tabby bounded off to the twoleg barn, as fast as his legs could carry him.

The wounds on his pelt screamed at the tom to halt, but he had already grasped a jumble of herbs in his jaws, and was bounding back to the clearing where his daughter lay. Panting, Flintfang dropped the bundle of greenery at Amberdawn's paws, letting his green gaze rest over his daughter once more. Her frame shifted, or maybe Flintfang was hallucinating in his haze. But the calico pelt of his daughter shifted once more, Mosspaw was alive. Flintfang leveled his eyes with his daughter's quickly, lowering himself to the ground. "I'm here Moss..." He whispered, voice raspy. "You saved me... you did it..." The emotions that swam in the warrior's heart were foreign and strange, but perhaps recent events has stripped his walls away. "I'm proud of you..." His voice cracked as he spoke, and Flintfang's green eyes glazed over. His daughter still had a ways to go to recover from the pain, but she was alive, that was all that mattered.

Despite their shared ambitions, Burntstag had seldom seen a genuine passion for others within Flintfang. His drive had seemed to be more goal-oriented than driven for the many cats who would benefit. Although, the Shadowclan tom had to admit it might have looked that way himself at times. But at this moment, there was a raw emotion that the calico could do little more than be amused by. After a few seconds, the sensation warmed somewhere in his chest and he managed a smile. To know who they would be rescuing would mold a drive like no other. It was a strange thought, one that crossed his overactive mind in seconds before he shook it away to draw once more from the events unfolding before him.

"I'm assuming you know each other." His voice was uncharacteristically soft as he broke through the moment between father and daughter. It was quiet enough that if either chose to ignore him, they could easily do so. With the herbs gathered and the troublesome Thunderclan kit out of the way, this she-cat's healing would be far more swift and easily handled, especially with a skilled medicine cat at the helm. Burntstag hoped to not interrupt the Skyclan medicine cat but turned to her before Flintfang could provide an answer to the posed question, "Is there anything I can do to assist you? Maybe lend a paw?" The moss had been pressed into Mosspaw's side, something Amberdawn had likely done many times before. But the warrior's strength and size were more than that of the she-cat, something that could allow for more pressure. He tilted his head slightly as he awaited an answer, ever patient and exuding a reassuring calm.

Despite Flintfang's thoughtful and much needed offer to fetch what Amberdawn needed, he did not move when she requested her herbs. He was rooted to the spot, seething with rage that crackled off his pelt through the air. In that very moment the ShadowClan tom had appeared, and Dewpaw was removed. Now the race against time was solely in the paws of Amberdawn with the supply of herbs and moss that she and her small patrol had gathered not so long before. As the golden she-cat settled and pressed the moss urgently to Mosspaw's chest, she heard Flintfang state the name, "Burntstag." She made note of his name to herself; Mosspaw stood a much better chance thanks to his intervention.

After only a few moments, Amberdawn could feel hints of life underneath her. Mosspaw stirred, her chest heaving slightly under the medicine cat's paws, and as expected the ThunderClan apprentice let out a sharp hiss of pain. Amberdawn winced as the blood flow picked up a little. Quickly as she could managed, she had tossed the first clump of moss aside and grabbed another, pressing it against Mosspaw's wounds once more while the she-cat was still at least somewhat dazed from waking up. "Hey, Mosspaw, it's okay - you're in the twoleg camp," Amberdawn reassured the calico cat with a low, soothing voice.

Mosspaw's eyes were slowly opening, and after several moments of fluttering they settled on Amberdawn's face, looking confused for half a moment before whispering, "Amb.... Amberdawn..."

"Shh, just try to relax," Amberdawn meowed as the apprentice tried - and failed - to lift her head. Her pulse quickened again, then slowed by the moment. "It... hurts...." "I'm sorry, Mosspaw, I know it does," the medicine cat cooed gently in response, keeping the steady pressure on the young she-cat's chest despite the discomfort and pain it certainly caused for the time-being.

The sound of rustling caught Amberdawn's attention and she turned just in time to see Flintfang sprinting back from the barn which he had apparently left to. The bundle of herbs was in his jaws and a wave of relief flooded over Amberdawn; with the combination of the moss compress and the marigold to stop the bleeding, Mosspaw would soon be safe - so long as they got the wounds clean. Who could guess what damage Dewpaw had done with his brazen disrespect and carelessness?

Almost as soon as he had arrived and spotted Mosspaw stirring, Flintfang sank to the earth beside his daughter. His steely eyes were pools of worry, and he murmured, "I'm here Moss... You saved me... you did it..." Amberdawn had no intention of eavesdropping, but with her head close to their she couldn't keep out the conversation. She kept her head down, dark amber eyes sharp with focus as she kept track of Mosspaw's heartbeat and the uncomfortable warm sensation slowing under her paws.

Burntstag returned to the small cluster of cats, hovering a respectful but interested distance away. After addressing Flintfang, there was a moment of silence before he addressed Amberdawn. "Is there anything I can do to assist you? Maybe lend a paw?" he asked coolly, and the SkyClan medicine cat stared at him curiously for half an instant before responding, "Yes, I think you can help. I need to make a poultice for her wounds but I don't think I'm ready to take pressure off to apply it yet. Could you hold the moss in place?" Regarding the tom's large frame - whether from build or pelt, she was uncertain - Amberdawn added urgently, "Be careful not to press it down too hard; I haven't gotten to see the extent of the damage yet and we don't want to make anything worse."

Nervously trusting Mosspaw's bandage to Burntstag under Flintfang's watchful eyes, Amberdawn immediately turned her attention to the herbs she'd been brought. She sought out the small collection of bright yellow margiold petals that Mosspaw herself had found on their patrol. Amberdawn went right to work chewing them up before going quickly back to Mosspaw, glancing at the moss compress and then Burntstag. "May I?" she asked through the mouthful of herbs, reaching in to gently remove the compress and see if it had slowed enough for her to thoroughly clean it with the marigold poultice.

Still somewhat dazed by everything that had happened in such rapid succession, Mosspaw's eyes closed, listening to the soothing voice of Amberdawn and trying to block the harsh pain that originated at her chest. The pressure lifted for only a moment before returning, and she winced as it did.

The sound of fast approaching footsteps made her open her eyes, glazed over in pain. They were quickly met by the eyes of Flintfang, and her own widened in a mixture of relief and hesitation. Before she could even open her mouth, he sank to the ground next to her. As he spoke, tears started to form in her eyes and streak towards the ground. She watched him through tear filled eyes as he said the words she had longed to hear for so long. "I'm proud of you..." A choked sob escaped her as everything came crashing into full reality around her. Through the pain, she stretched her neck out to gently lick her father's head as she tried to control the sobs that threatened to shake her body. "Dad.." She started to speak but stopped, her words catching on the lump in her throat. She looked into Flintfang's eyes, hoping that she would be able to convey all of the love, respect, fear, and any other emotion she had at the moment with just a look. "You're okay... I'm so glad..." She spoke, forcing the words past the lump that was fading slowly with each heartbeat. Flintfang wasn't mad at her, he was okay, and he was proud of her.

Happiness overpowered the pain and for just a moment she almost didn't feel it anymore. The lump had finally disappeared and she pressed her nose against Flintfang's. A strange voice followed by Amberdawn's own cut through the air, and Mosspaw pulled back as the pain blossomed again through the happiness, tensing as it did. Eyes narrowed against the sharp, burning sensation that seemed to grip her entire being, she realized that Amberdawn wasn't speaking to her, but to a calico tom that she didn't recognize. He was intimidating, and carried himself with an aura of quiet strength and collected poise, and she couldn't help but stare at him as he approached. She watched silently, nervously as the much larger warrior's paws took the place of Amberdawn's holding the moss in place as the medicine cat turned to begin making a poultice. She continued to look up at the ShadowClan warrior as he applied the pressure to the moss. Blinking at the tom, she looked to Flintfang nervously before looking back up. Flintfang and Amberdawn didn't seem alarmed by this cats presence in the slightest, so she assumed this tom must be okay... "T-Thank you, for your help..." She said tentatively, still unsure how to feel about this cat.

Turning towards Amberdawn, she recognized the bright yellow petals of the marigold she had found a few days before, and her tail twitched as she saw them. She watched Amberdawn for a moment before turning back to Flintfang, trying desperately to push the sensation of pain to the background of her thoughts. Maybe if she just didn't acknowledge that it hurt it wouldn't hurt so bad. When that didn't work, she thought maybe a distraction would help. "Dad.. What happened?... I remember seeing the thing about to attack you, and jumping... And then I was in this field, with trees around it... There was a pretty cat who spoke to me... She said it was too early for them to call me..." She trailed off at the end as Amberdawn returned, starting to gently remove the moss compress. She let out a sharp hiss directed towards the sky as the air hit the wound, tears springing back into her eyes as black threatened the outside of her vision. Desperate not to let the tears fall or the darkness any further, she looked into her father's eyes again trying to calm her breaths. Choking through the pain in an effort to ignore whatever Amberdawn was doing, she asked Flintfang. "What... was... that... thing... anyways?" She hissed through gritted teeth, a single tear leaking into the fur around her eye, ignoring her attempts to stop it.

The musty smell of mud and moss somewhat masked the scent of blood that stained the dirt. Flintfang didn't notice how it seeped into his fur. His green eyes were pooling over his daughter, darting from every strand of hair, dancing over the patterns of her pelt. Amberdawn worked around him, pressing more green foliage into Mosspaw's chest. Burntstag was there to, his strong presence could be noted even from Flintfang's position on the ground. The sun peeked over Mosspaw's ears and sent bright rays onto the tom's face, he let his eyes flutter closed for a moment, fully realizing how close he had come to losing his daughter. Had she died on this peat grass, the sun would no longer grace her pelt. She would no longer be able to smell the exotic tones of grass, and feel the dirt on her paws. It stabbed Flintfang in the heart like a claw, and he let his eyes shoot open with the sensation.

Mosspaw shifted on the grass, slowly becoming more conscious. Dad... She whispered, and the tom felt like he was falling from the gorge. A silent tear fell from Flintfang's cheek as he chuckled, shifting closer to the calico apprentice. "I'm okay... don't worry..." He winced as she did, only able to imagine what pain she must be feeling. The golden tabby that stood above them turned for a moment, calling to Burntstag, and then letting him apply pressure to Mosspaw's wounds. Flintfang watched his daughter's nervous expression as the large calico approached. To the tom, Burntstag's presence could be seen as comforting, but to Mosspaw, he must have seemed intimidating. "It's okay Mosspaw… He's a friend." The gray tabby flashed Burntstag a grateful look, a little embarrassed by his current position on the ground. So far, the two tom's meetings had been professional, mature, and well thought out. It was different, Flintfang thought, to be near him on terms such as these. But not unwanted.

The two had bigger and better ideas for the forest, ones not usually found in the common clan cat. Flintfang couldn't help but imagine how Mosspaw should fit in to all this. She didn't exactly radiate tones of revolution, it wouldn't be like her to follow his paw steps into the gray morals he followed. But Flintfang did recognize her loyalty, that, he knew, could get her in trouble. And I never want her to be hurt ever again... I won't let it happen... The tom would fight tooth and claw to protect his daughter. The pain he felt was unwelcome, the sinking feeling in his stomach when she was hit... It would never happen again. Not ever. Flintfang wondered perhaps, if that mindset collided with his ideas of change. What would he do then, if he came to that impasse?

But Mosspaw was speaking again. Flintfang quickly shook the thoughts away, wanting to be available to comfort his daughter. "That was a raccoon Mosspaw. They're kind of ugly if you ask me..." The tom chuckled, hoping to distract his daughter from her pain. "We fought it together, you and me. I was about to go down... but you saved me."
Mosspaw mewed something about a pretty she-cat, and Flintfang narrowed his eyes at the comment, wondering who she could possibly be talking about. The thought of StarClan ran over his mind for a split second, but the warrior quickly whisked it away, denying the possibility.

"You're not a bad fighter Moss..." Flintfang rasped instead. "But don't go throwing yourself into battles now. I'll be very upset with you if you die."