Red Flower [Clan Plot Topic - CLOSED]

Dawnpaw's head snapped around to the one who called his name, his mentor, Blossomstep. Help the elders? Dawnpaw nearly refused, not thinking his young life full of potential was worth whatever "life" remained in those old aching-boned bags of fleas. Alas, Dawnpaw showed none of his feelings on his face and dashed over to the elder's den obediently. Luckily, Tinylegs was smart enough to start waddling out on his own.

"I mean the only logical place to go is-" "THE RIVER!" He heard Wolfcall yowl out. "Yep. That." He wasn't sure what all he could do for Tinylegs. Dawnpaw wasn't a massive bobcat sized behemoth like his father. Even his sisters were bigger than he was. Carrying the elder, even as small as he was, still wasn't possible for an apprentice of Dawnpaw's size. He trotted out of camp, assuming Blossomstep and Tinylegs were close behind him.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Bloodstrike stayed, though he'd had no choice but to keep moving every now and then to avoid the heat. Even though the fire wasn't necessarily on top of him, the heat was intense and the smoke burned his eyes and killed his sense of smell. He hadn't seen Beechpaw, but he had to believe she and Sagelight got out. Then Wolfcall appeared and gave him a quick report of what he knew. The apprentices had made it out... good.

Bloodstrike turned to leave with his father in tow, until he heard Wolfcall breathe out one word.... "Mother..." He whipped his head around at Wolfcall, glowing green eyes wide. He knew what his father was about to do.

"Dad no!" Bloodstrike whipped around, charged a short distance and leaped...

His body had become thicker than his father's. The two cats collided, and a sound similar to that of when a professional football player kicks the ball across the field rang out even above the crackling flames approaching camp. Bloodstrike had tackled Wolfcall hard on purpose in an attempt to knock some wind out of him, hoping it would be enough to cut the deputy's strength in half for the time being. Bloodstrike's strength itself would wane soon if he didn't get enough oxygen to feed his large muscles. He couldn't afford to let his father overpower him in this situation.

Bloodstrike grabbed Wolfcall's scruff, hard enough to possibly pierce flesh, but it wasn't his intention to hurt him any further. He just needed a very firm grip.

"The clan needs our deputy right now!" He said as best as he could through a mouthful of fur. Hot, wet liquid streamed out of Bloodstrike's eyes. Was that a result of the smoke? Bloodstrike didn't know. His chest was tight, but he didn't think it had much to do with the smoke.

"If you go back you're dead! It's too late for her!" I'm so sorry dad... Something hard formed in Bloodstrike's throat, threatening to choke him out worse than the decreasing quality of the air. I am so... so sorry! Forgive me for this. And with that, Bloodstrike began to forcefully drag his father, his deputy and his mentor away from camp.

OOC: This was done with JJ's permission, just so everyone knows!

Bloodstrike's bulk hit him like a ton of bricks, and Wolfcall, who had been midstride and unprepared in his panic-stricken desperation to get to the medicine den, didn't have enough time to react. His legs buckled, and he felt his son's fangs meet in his scruff. The pain didn't even register, and he writhed, bucking and squirming to get free. "LET ME GO!" he snarled, claws scraping the dirt for purchase. Ordinarily, even with Bloodstrike's larger size, the deputy would have little trouble fighting him off - he had moons of experience and training on the younger tom, but the deputy had spent a lot of time in the thick smoke, and it had taken its toll.

Wolfcall hissed and spat, thrashing beneath his opponent - he wouldn't stop. He wouldn't leave her to die, not so long as there was one breath left in him. He would fight any enemy that presented itself... and right now, the only thing that stood in his way was Bloodstrike. Red tinted the edges of his vision, saliva dribbled from his bared fangs, and his breath came in ragged gasps. He had to help. He had to help. Wolfcall twisted in his fur, lifting one clawed paw and slashing it mercilessly across Bloodstrike's face. Crimson splattered, staining the deputy's white throat with a spray of gore.

The scent of his son's blood was enough to to snap him back to his senses.

He went limp, eyes flashing rapidly from side to side, chest heaving. As the fire engulfed the camp behind him, growing closer and closer with every passing second, Wolfcall wailed one long, furious note of sorrow and anger. And that's when he realized he hadn't seen Spottedstar come out of camp yet, either. He needed to pull it together, to be there for the clan. This wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. But his duties superseded his agony, and with a heavy heart he forced himself to his paws. "To... to the river," he choked out one final time. "We can't stay here." He pulled, gently, away from Bloodstrike, refusing to meet anyone's eyes, and, head low and tail dragging the ground, put the fire at his back and headed for the river.

Warriors were scrambling to herd apprentices and queens, Blossomstep was seeing to Tinylegs' safety, and straggling kits were picked up one by one by watchful clanmates. It wasn't orderly but it was effective. Spottedstar was grateful that the panic was enough to motivate them to flee but not overpowering their common sense. "Good, Bloodstrike! Well done, Sweetpaw!" The leader called out to the cats taking care of others, nudging a few startled elders in the direction of of the camp entrance. Around them, trees that lined their camp began to ignite and fill the clearing with smoke. Spottedstar's eyes stung and lungs burned, but he pushed forward, taking a head count and keeping an eye out for the other high ranks. "Wolfcall! Wolfcall, take them--" His deputy had already commanded SkyClan to head for the river before the leader had been able to cross the crowd to reach him. 'Good. Keep a calm head, Wolfcall." Cracking could be heard in the distance, followed by loud crashing noises of branches falling to the burnt earth. Spottedstar did his best to yowl over the commotion, trying to issue orders even while Bloodstrike and Wolfcall tussled. He knew what they were fighting over. "It's not too late for anyone. Both of you make sure SkyClan makes it to the river, I'll round up the slower cats and make sure they get out. Foxfire!" He turned and shouted for his former apprentice, former deputy, and informal son. He was reliable. Foxfire would be able to handle the special task. "Foxfire, I need you to do something different. Send a message to ThunderClan and warn them of the fire. Don't come back to us until it's safe, but... make sure you do come back at some point. Do you hear me? Come back to me, Foxfire!"

The smoke was growing thicker, the fire taller, the crackling and burning louder, almost a roar in his ears. Spottedstar couldn't run yet, though. He had to make sure everyone else got out. The leader dashed across the camp and entered the stone medicine cat den with no hesitation, eyes wide as he searched the shadows for Murkpelt. "Murkpelt! Murkpelt, let me help you - there's fire, it's in the camp. Quickly!" He rasped, finding her in the corner and hurrying to her side and nosing her to encourage her to stand.

Meanwhile, Juniperlight began to realize that the red flower called fire was a threat to the Clan. Everything it consumed was left in dust, blackened and almost invisible in the dark smoke that clouded his nose and mouth and forced his eyes half-closed. He coughed, trying to clear the scratchy feeling, but it was persistent. He could only hope to flee with the rest of the Clan, following the crowd out and behind Wolfcall. He spotted Mintkit hurrying as fast as her young legs could carry her and bent down to scoop her up. Hoisting her by the scruff, Juniperlight made certain that Mintkit was firmly in his safe grasp as they bulk of SkyClan poured out of camp and reeled to race the flames towards the river. Hopefully RiverClan would understand the situation. The newest warrior didn't know what they would do if they got chased away from the border.

Sweetpaw's ears flattened as she carried one kit as best she could. The crackly of the fire and the fact that the flames were getting higher set the apprentice on edge. She glanced back to the commotion her mentor was causing but she didn't have time to think about it. She heard the Leader's call of good job and for a moment she wanted to enjoy it but she needed to worry about the kit she carried as she moved bustling out of the camp with her clanmates as they struggled to get out of camp and towards the river.

Something woke her. A shout - no, a roar, breaking into the quiet of a mostly dreamless sleep, the soft sighing of pine branches swaying in the wind rippling, the fog swirling gently beneath shivering. A pair of eyes in a soft tabby face turned, wise blue eyes meeting hers - a flash of warning.

The scent was the first thing she noticed, her eyes blinking open, a brief feeling like gritty earth behind them as she raised her head, struggling to focus. Yowling, movement. Forms seemed to rush around her, and with a flash like cold water in her veins, she suddenly made out why.

Fire.

She'd heard the tales, the stories. And she could indeed smell a pungent, acrid stink that instinctively made her heart race seeping in on the hot breeze, like the scent of a predator winding through the forest. A thrill of urgency running through her paws, she came out of the warriors den and into the frenzy, her light blue eyes reflecting a hellish glow coming from somewhere over the camp and catching dark, tense forms heading for the camp entrance. Turning, she could see the orange-yellow light flickering far too close for comfort, sending a thrill of fear down her spine. The dryness in her mouth wasn't only from the heat.

Willowpaw.

She turned back, scanning through the crowd of bushed pelts, pushing forwards as she sought the grey tabby apprentice's familiar one, her heart twisting as a thought briefly crossed her mind. Where's Redfall? She shook her head - no time to worry about the tom, he was long gone, even if the pit in her stomach wasn't - and focused back on the cats in the clearing. There was Wolfcall, calling for them to go to the river, there was Bloodstrike - the massive tom roving as he presumably helped make sure the others got out. And then a flash of soft grey on a smaller pelt. A trickle of relief swept through her as it headed for the entrance, and she broke into a run, quickly catching up to the other molly. "Willowpaw!" She could see the orange light glinting in the wetness on the apprentice's face, an expression of terror in her eyes. "It will be alright, just-"

A yowl brought her head around in alarm, the fur on her spine bristling. Bloodstrike had leaped on top of Wolfcall. She felt her eyes widen, shock freezing her paws. He'd attacked his own-?

A flash of claws. Dark glinting droplets flew in the yellow light, and she couldn't contain a gasp as the deputy's paw slashed across his son's face. What in StarClan-? Wolfcall wailed, a heartbroken note of grief that rose even over the roaring crackle coming ever closer, and she felt herself stiffen, eyes going back into camp, to the medicine cat den. No. Surely they wouldn't have.... But Murkpelt had a broken leg, didn't she? From a fox, just a few sunrises ago.

"Willowpaw, head for the river. Don't look back." She rested her tail on her apprentice's back for a brief moment and turned. Wolfcall couldn't go back - the Clan needed the deputy to guide them. Perhaps it wasn't as dire as Bloodstrike made it sound, since Spottedstar was still back there - or at least she assumed he was; she hadn't seen him with the others - but even a leader couldn't help everyone left there alone. "Follow the others!" She called back over her shoulder.

A couple of bounding strides, and she was level with Wolfcall and Bloodstrike, the former limp, all of the fight drained from his body. "Wolfcall, I can go back for any left," She told him, her voice low and urgent, not daring to let any of the pity squeezing her heart at his predicament into her tone. I know what that feels like. A hollow opened in her chest, a faint and distant ache as she remembered when Tinylegs and Sunflower had come back with Moonlight, her mother's eyes closed forever, the scent of death clinging to her pelt. Oh Mother, don't let it happen again.... A word from him, and she would go.

Murkpelt was in a complete and utter haze when she awoke to the chaos. What time is it? the injured warrior asked absently, blearily, as her sleep-blotched eyes tried to blink open to focus. Murkpelt didn't know how long she'd been asleep; the smoke-strewn moon was hidden from her view in her nest at the rear of the medicine den where she was recovering from her injury. Only a few days ago she had been grabbed and shaken by a dog, breaking her leg to an extent Sagelight couldn't yet determine. She was in the early healing stages, and that meant many herbs to help dull her pain and sense to allow her to rest. She struggled to awaken from her slumber with the weight of the herbs dragging at her eyelids, and she didn't know how long she fought the grogginess, but Murkpelt was ever aware of how the heat in the den was more intense and sweltering than she'd ever felt. She blinked more and began struggling to sit upright, meowing hoarsely, "Sa...Sagelight...? What's... happening?" There was no answer.

She heard pawsteps hitting the hard floor and her yellow-green gaze immediately focused on the ever familiar shape of Spottedstar in the entrance of the den. The frantic look on his face served to wake her swiftly than her own attempts. "Spottedstar?" she questioned in a strained voice as he cried her name, scrambling towards her. He began urging her ungracefully to her paws, and she snarled in pain and protest, "What in StarClan's na--OW, fox-brain!" for half a moment before she registered his words and the horrifying scene outside, lights waving behind him. Suddenly the pain in her twisting leg hurt a little less than the terror of whatever inferno was waiting for them outside this den. "Oh, no," Murkpelt breathed, and as she pressed her chin against Spottedstar's shoulders in an attempt to help hoist herself to her paws the rest of the way she became accutely aware of the smothering scent of smoke in his pelt. The dark warrior balanced herself and asked anxiously, "Did our kits make it out?" She didn't dare try to scent for her Clanmates; smoke was beginning to fill the medicine den with billowing breaths while the flickering lights grew brighter and nearer.

Foxfire's ears were pined back as he tried to ignore the chaos in the camp, cats yowling for each other as they rushed toward the entrance. He had to hold his ground, remain calm as he waited for Spottedstar to turn his attention onto him. Finally orders were starting to be shouted - head for the river, Spottedstar would get the slower cats out and Foxfire - oh, him! He perked up at the mention of his name, giving a quick nod as he was ordered to send a message to ThunderClan. "Got it!" he meowed quickly, before he paused as he was ordered to return. "...Yeah, I got it, Spottedstar. I'll come back to you, don't worry," he said softly, taking in a deep breath of what could be his last clean air for a while as the smoke hadn't fully enveloped the camp. He pressed forward, rubbing his cheek across Spottedstar's face before he turned and darted out of the camp, slipping between his Clanmates.

It...Hurt, leaving them like this but he was certain that Spottedstar and Wolfcall would make sure they were all safe. He would see them again soon enough, but he was given an order and he wasn't about to let Spottedstar down again.

It was just like in his prophetic dream. Voices sounded out around camp, calling, howling orders, and Sagelight was roused awake. His fur immediately began to stand on end with alarm at the fear in the air. He stared out at the growing lights closing in around the SkyClan camp and swallowed hard, his face grim. He knew this was coming, and now, finally, it was here.

Beechpaw yowled his name in warning and he got to his paws, his thoughts racing along with the pounding of his heart in his chest. Spottedstar, in an instant, was in the den, struggling with Murkpelt to get her on her paws and out of camp as quick as possible. The medicine cat rushed to support her other side, helping her up. He met his brother's gaze with a solemn, knowing look. "Are the kits, elders, and queens on their way out? Do you think you can carry Murkpelt out on your own? I heard we're heading to the river. I'll meet you there. Star's speed, brother. Be safe."

He pushed past the ex-lovers and out into camp. The smoke was starting to billow, stinging his eyes and nose and lungs as he breathed. Time was of the essence, he had to do this fast. Ignoring the burning in his lungs, he roared above the din, "SKYCLAN! I NEED AN ABLE-BODIED CAT! WE NEED TO CARRY AS MANY HERBS WITH US AS WE CAN SPARE. COME TO THE MEDICINE DEN IMMEDIATELY!" And just like that, he was back in his den, wrapping up as many herb bundles as he could possibly make for ease of carrying later. The more herbs he had, the more he would be able to help the Clan out after they were all out safe.

Adderpaw continued through the underbrush, left in the dust of all the cats rushing in a panic towards the river. Honestly, why were they in such a fuss? They weren't on fire yet, and the river wasn't too far. Why bother wasting energy? StarClan. Even if they did get burned, would that be that bad? Adderpaw had yet to see any evidence that the fire could kill anyone. Was she the only intelligent being in this entire Clan? Sometimes, it seemed like she was. Everyone seemed so caught up in their little lives, crying about everything and putting up so much fuss. They didn't even appreciate the excitement of this situation. How often are you gonna see a fire in your life? This was a prime opportunity to learn, and those mouse-brains were just throwing it away. What a waste.

Huffing in exasperation, Adderpaw took another step forward--then stopped. Not of her own accord, no. Rather, by force. It happened quickly, with a loud crack and flying sparks. For a moment there was nothing, just the glow of the raging inferno, then Adderpaw fell to the ground. A searing pain spread from her face to her shoulders and torso, as if someone were rending the flesh from her body. She flailed her legs, trying to get away from the sensation, but she was pinned down. Inexplicably, her heart rate and mind stayed calm despite the pain. She gritted her teeth, raspy noises that might have been cries of pain escaping her quickly burning lips. So this was pain. Her mind was focused on one thing: get away. Minimise the damage. But she couldn't, she was trapped. Though she kept writhing and kicking to get away, it was clear that her actions were in vain. Despite this, there was no fear in her mind. This would pass. One way or another. At least she'd gotten her answer; fire was effective on more than just wood. She'd remember that one for later. If there was a later. But as she lay here, she became more and more sure that there would be. The pain was going away now, and she wasn't even bleeding much. Yeah, she'd be fine. Adderpaw wouldn't be killed by a measly fire. Soon, one of her kicks would take and she'd escape the burning prison. She was sure of it.

Swansong’s words reached Willowpaw’s panicking brain. She nodded numbly and began hurrying along with the other cats who were rushing out. She didn’t register the other cats being heroic and trying to help. How could she? She was an apprentice with barely any experience. What could she even do?

In the back of her mind, she noted Sagelight calling for help with herbs, and saw Adderpaw stray towards the fire. But her conscious mind was locked onto only one thing. Get away. Get to safety. Get to the river.

Bloodstrike growled and reactively bit down harder in response to claws slicing his face. He'd had the good sense to screw his eyes shut to protect them and flatten his ears only an instant before impact. He only just managed to stop himself from unsheathing his claws and fighting back, all of which was now nearly involuntary for the more experienced warrior. The taste of hot iron on his tongue had him immediately release his father's scruff. Wolfcall had stopped resisting, and the mournful howl that left his lips jabbed deep into Bloodstrike's chest like a knife. He could only stand there for a few minutes, easily blinking the blood away from his eyes. The heat in the area must have been making it get to it's sticky state faster, because the flow stopped fairly quickly.

Wolfcall turned to leave with the rest of the clan and Bloodstrike nearly followed, but then Spottedstar's voice stopped him from moving. Bloodstrike checked where the fire's location was again. To him, it most certainly looked like the time to be saving anyone had passed, especially for anyone that needed to be carried out of camp.

"Star-curse it all to the Dark Forest Spottedstar!" He snarled, but he doubted his leader had heard him, as he had already ducked into the medicine den. Starclan I beg you to teach this mouse-brained fool of a leader of ours to know when running is the appropriate action to take! His fur had bristled, and he had been about to bound out of there.... until he then heard Sagelight's voice. Are. You. Serious. Sagelight?! Was their entire litter thrown from trees and hit their heads as kits??

"SAGELIGHT THERE IS NO TIME! WE CAN COLLECT MORE HERBS BUT IT WON'T MATTER IF OUR MEDICINE CAT IS DEAD!" Bloodstrike was done being nice. There was too much going on too fast and his anxiety was through the roof. The fire was too close. One good wind and it would devour everyone anywhere near camp right now. Bloodstrike at least understood this much. A movement off to his right caught his attention and his fearful rage gave way to a frigid, suffocating terror. He saw the branches fall onto Adderpaw, his sister. She wasn't able to make noise, but from the angle he was at he could still see her expression twisting and contorting with visible, silent agony.

Bloodstrike bolted with the speed of the wind to his sister. He tried not to focus on her flesh melting from her face as she just lay there in what appeared to be a silent acceptance of her fate. Bloodstrike cocked a mighty forelimb back as far as it would go, and then swiftly slammed it into the flaming branches. Already losing some of their structure from the flames, the branch gave way and crumbled about half way, then what remained was a skinny twig that was easily removed from the burning cat.

Burning pain radiated from Bloodstrike's paw, enough that he yowled his agony to the smoke-filled air around him. Growling as he put weight back on the ground, Bloodstrike quickly grabbed a mouthful of Adderpaw's scruff. With an adrenaline-filled strength that he was not aware he possessed, Bloodstrike lifted his sister's body from the ground, spun around on his heels and threw Adderpaw a few feet away.

"Run you m-!" Flames fell all around him, some blocking him in and others burning down the left side of his back and on top of his ribcage near his spine. Bloodstrike sharply gasped, filling his lungs with toxic fumes as a nauseating wave of pain ripped through his spine. More fire fell, like burning rain. Bloodstrike couldn't save anyone else. He no longer had time.

The dark tabby leaped forward as flames licked away the fur on his back and left side. He was on fire even as he sailed over the bit of flames in his path, landing on the other side of Adderpaw. He bolted as the flames consumed more of him, unsure of what to do. The pain in his paw came roaring back with a vengeance, and Bloodstrike mis-stepped, tumbled through dirt, and by the grace of Starclan put out the flames on his body.

"We have to go!" Bloodstrike bellowed out above the roar of the of the dying forest. "We have to go now!" He felt like he was in a dream-state. Pain racked his body and his paw, but he forced himself to get up and run. Run to the river. Run away to where ever he could get to that was not covered in flames.

He had saved who he could. Bloodstrike would have to be at peace with whatever befell those who had not escaped when they had the chance...

About to race out of camp with the rest of his clanmates, Sunflower skidded to a halt. Heart racing and adrenaline pumping through his veins, he turned around, watching as flames began encroach through the camp walls. Branches began to plummet down from the canopy above, making the ground quake as they made contact with the once peaceful camp clearing. Blossomstep seemed to have gotten Tinylegs out safely and while everyone continued to panic, it looked as though every-cat would be alright. Amongst all of the chaos, it had dawned on him that he couldn't leave without the most valuable item in his life, well the only valuable item in his life; the sky-pelt.

While the world around him was forever changing for better or for worse, the Twoleg sky-pelt that he'd received those many moons ago brought him warmth and comfort in his nest every night and would never falter. Sunflower wasn't a cat who had a single ounce of courage or bravery, or any boldness in his bones for that matter, but through it all... he... he had to go back and get it. Staring at the roaring flames, he just couldn't imagine his life without it, as crazy at it seemed.

But... going back into the warrior's den that flames had already begun to devour... it was certainly suicide. Sunflower was awkward and contrary to popular belief, not very fast, even with his abnormally long legs. But, the sky-pelt... though a Twoleg creation, was practically a part of him and he couldn't leave it, not when he didn't have anyone else to share his nest with at night.

Large ears pinned against his head and fur standing on end, he shuffled his paws back and forth before making perhaps the most daring decision he'd ever made in his life.

With a burst of speed, he raced back towards the warrior's den, dodging fallen trees along the way. Slowing his pace, he made it to the warrior's den and not taking any time to possibly regret his decision, he bent down and jumped into the den. Heat from the flames hugged him as though he were a kit suffocating under his litter-mates. Smoke had already begun to seep through the brush lined walls and like a thick morning fog, it became difficult to see where his paws were stepping.

'You know where your nest is,' he kept reminding himself over and over, letting his memory lead the way.

Soon enough, he'd made it to his nest. The crackling of flames seeping through the den filled his ears and his eyes began to water from the smoke. Pushing away the twigs and feathers he'd lined the edges and top of his sky-pelt nest with, he grabbed the pelt between his jowls and pulling it out from where it'd laid for so many moons, he rushed out of the den, the warmth of the flames hot on his tail.

Jumping over a tree that had been set aflame and falling near the entrance of the warrior's den, Sunflower kept running and didn't dare stop. Unfortunately, amid the panic of getting out of the den, he hadn't got a good grip on the blue pelt, and so one of his paws caught on it and sent the lean warrior tumbling down.

Rolling a couple of times and sending a flurry of dust everywhere, Sunflower gave his pelt a shake and jumped up. All around him were flames, ready to engulf him and there was no time to spare.

Grabbing the pelt and making sure to get a better grip on it this time, he began to run but the sky-pelt yanked back. To his horror, the pelt had snagged on part of a fallen tree as if it was insistent on staying. Great Silverpelt, could this day get any worse?

Pulling against it, his efforts were in vain as he tried to free it from it's grasp on the branch. 'Come on...' he silently begged. Almost every-cat had made it out of camp already and it was just his luck that he got put in such a situation at this.


~~~~~

Hearing Wolfcall's cry in the distance about every-cat going to the river, Tinylegs followed Blossomstep and Dawnpaw, trying his best to keep up with them. It was hard, seeing as though he was already at an advantage, and his breathing soon became forced as he trudged along, hoping to not cause any inconvenience to any-cat. He could make it and it wasn't as though he really had a choice, unless he wanted the flames to be his untimely fate.

Ivypaw stirred when the scent of smoke and ash reached her. She found herself waking to chaos. The camp was on fire, flames licking the area, and her clanmates trying to escape it. He heard someone call out to head to the river, she scrambled out of the den. Utterly confused and panicking, her thoughts had scattered until she only knew that she needed to get out of camp. So she ran blindly, navigating between the trees before taking a deep breath to calm herself.

Mistrain started panicking. The cats were headed towards the river, but she had stayed behind to check if any other cats were left. Just as she was about to dash out of the camp entrance, she tripped and her hind leg got caught in a bush of thorns. Blinking back tears of agony, Mistrain wrenched her left leg out and stumbled back into camp. There, she spotted Spottedstar and his mate in the medicine den. "Spottedstar, Murkpelt. I think they all made it out of camp but--" She gestured at the bloody wound. "I--I don't think I'll make it."

OOC: Sorry if I did any of this wrong, this is all very confusing

Murkpelt was reluctant and confused at first and Spottedstar didn't fault her for her anger. Everyone was confused and panicked, including himself. He nodded to Sagelight, grateful for the tom's help in getting Murkpelt to her paws, and answered both of their questions in a short meow: "Yes. I saw everyone making their way out. It's just us now, so let's be quick; I've got her." His brother collected several packets of herbs, clearly made quickly and with little organization, and sped out with them while Spottedstar guided the broken-legged warrior from the stone den. The stinging in his eyes and lungs only grew worse as he fought to see. The blanket of night was not a problem with such a large fire blazing, by now burning up the trees ringing the camp. It would be a narrow escape. Spottedstar stifled a nearly uncontrollable cough and urged Murkpelt forward, towards the entrance that Sagelight's dark-tipped tail had disappeared in. "Come on, Murkpelt, a little faster... I know it hurts. We'll get through this and I promise I'll personally tend to you until you're perfect again." He rasped, trying to take on as much of her weight as possible without knocking her over. Perhaps Murkpelt didn't want him anywhere near her after this; maybe her deepest desire was for him to leave her alone entirely for as long as they both lived. Spottedstar didn't know. He wasn't thinking about the politics of their deeply fractured relationship, nor was he particularly sharp about guessing who wanted his presence and who loathed it. Instead, he was focused entirely on the inferno before them and the ragged, painful breaths that drew in more smoke than air. They just had to get in front of the flames. They just had to get out of camp--

"Spottedstar, Murkpelt-"

Mistrain was there, limping back through camp with a bloodied hind leg and a look of terror. Her defeated tone and damaged limb told the leader everything he needed to know: that the young warrior would not have the willpower to push her way out to safety and that she was resigned to her fate. An indignant spark fluttered in his chest, enough to start a roaring fire of its own in Spottedstar's heart. "Lean on my other side, Mistrain. We'll get out! I'll get you out! It's not too late!" He yelled to be heard over the fire and gestured for her to come to his side with a flick of his tail. He'd had enough of too late and won't make it from his Clan. Spottedstar wouldn't give up on a single Clanmate. Not ever.

Sandblaze crossed his mind. He would have protected his half-brother. He could have saved him.

With a deafening crack and a groaning crash, fiery branches fell from the trees above onto the thorn bushes that had protected SkyClan's camp for untold seasons. Now, burning bright and giving off more intense heat than the leader had ever experienced in his life, they trapped the three SkyClan cats in the blaze. Dens with generations of history went up in flames. 'No, no! Not yet!' He tucked his granddaughter close to his side and backed away from the burning thorn bushes with Murkpelt on his other side, looking wildly around the clearing for somewhere to go. It was possible that he could scoop up a cat on his powerful shoulders and leap through the fire that fed on SkyClan's camp wall, but even then, he could only carry one cat. He'd have to leave someone behind: his ex-mate or his young granddaughter. To make a choice like that... Spottedstar wouldn't do it. Neither of the she-cats deserved to be left behind, even if they understood and accepted it. Besides, he couldn't guarantee a safe landing. For all he knew, he could take a leap of faith from the rocky camp into the hungry fire burning up the forest. The only plant left untouched was the lone Tallbranch, gnarled around a rock on the edge of camp. Briefly, Spottedstar considered taking shelter in his den underneath it, but he knew that even the weakest breeze could spread cinders to their one safe haven. There was only one option for the trio of misfortunate cats.

"To the medicine den! Hurry!" He commanded, turning and navigating the cats on either side back where he'd come from. Its stone walls wouldn't burn, but that was all he could hope for. Perhaps he could find some way to shield them from the smoke. Spottedstar glanced up into the sky. It was all black, starless, and even moonless as the plumes of smoke blotted out his sight of Silverpelt. "Scorchbranch!" He called out hoarsely for his great-grandfather, handsome and spry in StarClan but horrifically burnt and hairless as Spottedstar had known him in life. He couldn't see his ancestors. He could only hope and pray that they could see him and that they still loved him even though he'd been such a screw-up. His pelt singed on the tips and his paw pads were stabbed with hot pain with every step. His chest heaved, breaths growing loud and raspy with the effort of supporting two fully grown cats, and he felt himself growing lightheaded from lack of oxygen. Tears streamed down his face from the constant sting of smoke and deap-seated fear in equal measure. "StarClan preserve us!"