Glass Animals {EXXUS PLOT FINALE}{OPEN}

The sound of Goldengale's body collapsing to the dirt was the only thing in the world that could have drawn Barleytuft's attention back to the present, away from the nightmare that had escaped to assault them another day and instead to a different nightmare. The terror and exhaustion on the young warrior's face was clear, and Barleytuft cast one last hateful look out over the edge of the moor before whipping back to his daughter. She had run so far so quickly - she was always so fast, like the gale she was named after - and Barleytuft thought at first that she had simply run herself ragged. The pale tom licked at her head and ears, watching her carefully as she tried to examine her paws. Fervently he licked, and licked, the anxiety coming off Goldengale in waves until finally she turned her blue eyes on him and whimpered that she couldn't move.

A claw pierced through Barleytuft's heart, and he cursed himself inside - he had done this, caused Goldengale to push herself too far when she had been so clearly hurt, he had let her down by not only failing to keep her out of harm's way but asking her to follow him into it - as he pressed his nose against her paws. They felt like her paws to him, but they spasmed and twitched just ever so slightly, out of the she-cat's control. Barleytuft nosed a little more anxiously, looking at Goldengale with a helpless, almost disturbed expression. "I-It'll be okay, kitten, you've p-pushed yourself so hard, you must be exhausted, that's it," Barleytuft said, though his voice reflected his uncertainty and concern.

Suddenly Barleytuft heard a cry, and he whipped his head to see Aspenheart - his brother by all but blood - struggling to make his way towards them. The senior warrior felt immense relief to see Aspenheart alive, though clearly injured himself, but he could not maintain his joy for long in the face of Goldengale's injury. The medicine cat called for Goldengale to be brought to him and Barleytuft didn't waste a second in obeying. The senior warrior dipped his head and pressed his muzzle to his daughter's forehead, and he murmured, "I'll take care of you, Goldengale, everything will be okay. Just hold on. Tell me if I-I hurt you." Carefully he lifted her, and after careful maneuvering he made his way towards Aspenheart.

The tabby warrior set his daughter down carefully, his face already looking sunken with grief and terror. He looked at the battered gray tabby cat with a look of exhaustion and concern and sadness. "Brother... Her paws," Barleytuft said uselessly, and he asked, "What can I do?" He couldn't stop moving now, not when everything had ended and continued and begun all at once.

Finchstar stared blankly at the corpse of Ovinnik, laying dead on the ground. Dae had fled, Barleytuft opting to sprint after her, but Goldengale had pulled his attention away. The clan slowly started to move, to act. Aspenheart gathered together his herbs, Barleytuft helping his injured daughter over to his side. Finchstar paced and peered into each of the dens, yellow eyes concerned. No lives had been lost today. Only monsters had been killed. The tom carefully made his way over to Spotpaw, the small apprentice splayed out over the ground. "Come now, scrap. You are too brave too sleep now." Gingerly, the leader grasped the calico she-cat and carried her over to Aspenheart's side, laying the wounded cat down in the sand. "Aspenheart, what do you need friend?  Herbs? Cobwebs? Tell me, and I will fetch them for you." Their recovery was not pretty, nor was it glorious, but slowly they pulled themselves from shock. It was a warrior's instinct, a calling.

"WindClan..." Finchstar rasped, limping into the clearing, feeling dozens of eyes meet his pelt. He meant them with glowing orbs of his own, an emotional breath shuddering from his maw. All his friends, his clanmates. Souls of their own accord. And they chose to remain here, in their starforsaken moor. They cherished its beauty and fought for their peace. It was nothing Finchstar had done or said but simply his own friend's desires. It was overwhelming, to think that all hearts had such a yearning for peace. They had proved it over and over again, to no one but themselves. Stars, he was blessed, far more than his kit-hood self could ever imagine. WindClan was his home. "Well done." The leader whispered, eyes glazing over. He chuckled and watched the sun rise higher, knowing that they had faced their demons, and slayed them in a warrior's fashion.

"Those who carry severe injuries, please see Aspenheart. Those of you who can stand, let us scour the moor for herbs. Paws could be used in camp to assist our brave medicine cat as well. Do not hesitate to destroy our escapee if she is spotted beyond camp..." Finchstar turned and meant Raventail's eyes, and observed the way the young tom carried himself. It was he who had led the clan in Finchstar's absence. No doubt acting as the helm in gatherings. He would soon stand where Finchstar stood. As a leader. The tom smiled and padded to his deputy, touching his nose lightly. "Promise me you will never doubt yourself again, Raventail. You have shown more courage this past moon than all the moors possess. Truly, you have the heart of an adventurer. I admire you, no less than the day on Outlook Rock." Finchstar dipped his head low, a sign of respect to his good friend and pseudo-son.

"Nothing will stand in the way of our peace, friends." He now addressed the whole clan, voice determined. "WindClan is forever, no floods, no dogs, and no monsters can rid us of our love." The leader bit his lip as he remembered speaking the same words to Brookclover long ago. "Now, let us assist our medicine cat in his duties, shall we?"

Aspenheart shuffled between the two patients in quite short intervals, assessing the most of the damage. He lapped at Goldengale's ear in a brief moment of affection. His nerves were soothed as he put his personal afflictions aside and allowed all of Mintwhisker's teaching to once again take center stage. Owl-like in observation and not unlike a mantis in skill, he pressed his paws up and down Goldengale's spine. Moving to the end of her vertebrae, he nipped her spine hard enough to pinch her skin. "Did you feel anything just now?"

While he waited for an answer, he switched to the young cat Finchstar had brought to him. Spotpaw was all flesh wounds... typical for a battle. The poor kit just couldn't take more than a few solid hits before she had to escape. It was a pity. He made quick work of her, wrapping her wounds in cobwebs and some more common varieties of herbs as a poultice (no use in dipping into his supply of rare plants when they were already in such short supply). He moved some poppy seeds close to the apprentice's mouth so she could see them and know they were for her. Then, finally, little Spotpaw could rest. Aspenheart took a breath and looked up, finally ready to answer. "We're doubling down on patrols from now until the first snow. If I had known we were going to be in dire straits for the rest of the season, I would've prepared more, but... eh, I'm rusty on my dream interpretations. I have enough for the more immediate injuries, but you're all going to have to learn a little plant identification if we're going to make it to Newleaf." For the first time, the medicine cat truly surveyed the clearing. He noticed how similar his clanmates looked to the two ragged pelts that were discarded in the sand. "We're alive. No casualties. I don't give a rat's tail about anything else."

Goldengale shook her head, ears lowering against her skull. "No... It keeps doing this, dad... One heartbeat I'm fine, and the next... I'm not. I don't know what to do...." She tried not to whimper as he carried her oh so gently on his back, placing her in front of Aspenheart. Purring slightly as he licked her ear, she pressed her nose gently to his shoulder before setting her head on her paws as he set to work. The sudden pain was unexpected, and she yelped as his teeth pinched the fur along her spine, wheeling her head fast enough for darkness to threaten the edges of her vision as she glared indignantly at him. Her paws remained stiff, unflinching next to her where she had tried to nose them into place. "Yes, I felt that, what in the Dark Forest made you do that?"

---

Dappleshine stood still, fur remaining on end, as the blood slid from her claws to the sandy ground. After several heartbeats, she turned to look at Raventail, grief and fear and relief warring with each other in her expression before she closed the distance and pushed her head into his chest. For a long moment she stayed there, unmoving while she composed herself. Finally pulling away from the embrace, she nodded to Finchstar and looked towards Aspenheart. "I spent some time in the medicine den before, I can help gather herbs. What do you need, Aspenheart?"

At the first battle’s end, silence had come all at once, swift and heavy like floodwater. When the tunnels had shut away Finchstar and Goldengale, they’d shut away the beasts as well. But here and now, Elmskip snapped threats at the beast’s back as it retreated; Goldengale and Barleytuft raced through the tunnel in pursuit, father and daughter, fast as their Clan’s namesake despite their injuries; Aspenheart surged into action, working over Spotpaw with a fire Raventail hadn’t seen since Finchstar’s disappearance. Finchstar moved from den to den with tired, purposeful steps, then faced them all once again.

The sun rose, and WindClan was quiet.

Amidst the crowd, Finchstar’s gaze found him. Raventail stared back, afraid—afraid—until he saw his friend’s mouth curve upward. As Finchstar pressed his nose to Raventail’s, a moon of uncertainty shuddered through the smaller tom. With every step he’d taken, part of him had wondered if his course was the best one, if he could carry them alone. Even this, allowing WindClan the sleep they’d so desperately needed, had hurt them in the end…but there was no mistaking the pride in his leader’s face, in this brief gesture. Finchstar had always believed in him. Tears dripped from Raventail’s cheeks in a steady rhythm. ”Not sure I can promise that, but…I promise I’ll try.” He nodded in return, blinking fast. ”Thanks, Finchstar. I—I’m glad you’re back.”

He saw Dappleshine’s approach as if through another cat’s eyes, wanting desperately to move forward, yet unable to until she fell against him. Only then did he rest his chin between her ears, squeezing his eyes shut. Simply breathing, for the first time in a season. Maybe they weren’t entirely safe, but they knew the truth. The beasts were only beasts. They could be killed. They could be beaten. With WindClan’s courage, there could be no other outcome. Raventail exhaled as Dappleshine withdrew, already missing the contact—but there were repairs to be done and herbs to restock, and he was more than able to help. ”Just tell me what you’re looking for,” he said with a sniff.

---

Another flurry of attacks came from the warriors around him. There was no time for the black-and-white tom to land another blow on Finchstar; the RiverClanner’s claws met his throat, and that was the end. The wound bled freely. Apparently, the tom hadn’t thought to hide himself under a third pelt. Lightfang waited for him to go quiet, then waited a minute longer, reluctant to trust the tom’s stillness. Logically, however, he knew that if the tom so much as flicked a whisker, WindClan would be on him in an instant, and so he eventually retreated nearer to Burningwolf.

She was safe. Swallowflight, too; Finchstar would have announced any bodies if he’d seen them. Everyone had survived, down to WindClan’s long-lost leader and warrior. They could track down the escaped cat once they’d healed—at least, Lightfang could; for now, he wasn’t going anywhere. The tall warrior lowered himself partially to the ground. Gravity, unsympathetic as ever, yanked him the rest of the way, bringing him down with a soft thud and an even softer hiss of pain. His wounds oozed blood as they had before, but even a glance was enough to tell him the apprentices and Aspenheart himself were in worse shape by far. The medicine den would be crowded tonight. Maybe he’d be sleeping there, too.

Crowpaw opened his eyes, slowly, painfully, before remembering the battle at hand. Half his face bloodied, ear ripped, he stumbled out of the nursery, to be greeted with.. his mother? And Finchstar? He blinked, in disbelief. “Mom?” He choked out, stepping forward on shaky paws. The cat-creatures were gone, and two missing Clanmates had returned.

“Goldengale!” He cried a yowl of relief, stumbling towards his mother, and the medicine den, as quickly as he could. “You’re here! You’re o-okay!” He stopped next to her, suddenly recalling that he probably shouldn’t get in Aspenheart’s way. But he sank his head into Goldengale’s cheek fur, openly crying.

“You’re alive, mom. You’re alive. Stars, I missed you.” He sat there, stunned, shocked, grateful. Tears of joy streaking their way through his blood-soaked face, the pain, the suffering, gone for that moment.

Before his eyes, the battle played out. Those revived foes were quickly fallen at the paws of the clan. Even with such ferocity, they could not out battle the Windclan cats. Arcayus felt like he was holding his breath the entire time and when he finally sucked in the cool air, his lungs screamed from the sensation. But it was over. He hoped that these creatures were finally chased away for good and would run far from Windclan territory. After a few gulping breaths, he felt his heart still to a decent level. Having fought the urge to flee far away felt strange. Patrick was not specifically known for being a coward, but Arc was. However, this encounter might have changed that. He glanced around to watch the reunion between Windclan cats. Their leader and one of the warriors had been gone for some time and left a noticeable void in the camp, even to a stranger such as him. As he stepped aside, the grey and orange tom settled onto his haunches and averted his gaze for a moment when Elmskip approached.

'You... stayed. Why? What keeps you here?

Admittedly, it was not the question he had expected, but perhaps he should have giving the circumstances. Once again his golden eyes flickered to the ground. There were so many things he could say but none seemed like the answer that Elmskip deserved so instead, he simply listened for a moment. Hearing the other tom stumble over his words threatened to stir feelings of longing in Arcayus. He wanted to draw the tortoiseshell tom in and soothe the worries that flowed from his tongue. But, nothing would ever feel sufficient. After a moment, the loner sighed and chose to answer the latter of the question, "You don't sound stupid. I'm okay, and I'm glad you are too. I was worried. Those things, whatever they were, are hardly cats... more akin to monsters." He muttered at the end. Nervousness twisted through his thoughts. Of course Elmskip would notice if his question went unanswered, this was no young tom. No, the warrior was seasoned and smart, despite the worries that always plagued him. It drew Arcayus in. And after a long pause, he finally broke the air. If nothing was sufficient, than perhaps it was better to accept that.

"I... I don't know why I'm here, Elmskip. I don't know."