home is where the fire isn't [open for SkyClan]

Bitter, acrid smoke followed the SkyClan cats as they fled to the one safe place that Wolfcall could imagine outliving this inferno: the river. He pictured it in his mind, cool running water, fresh on singed paws and pelts, the lifeblood of the forest. It would save them. If they made it across, the fire couldn't follow. Blossomstep had made it to him, and he pressed his pelt against hers as they walked, "Keep-" His voice cracked, though from stress or smoke inhalation it wasn't clear. Wolfcall cleared his throat with a wince. It felt like swallowing thorns. "-keep them going. I'm going to make sure we've got everyone." He looped back around, eyes frantically sweeping the cats that were following his mate and muttering under his breath to himself each of their names as he found them. "Dawnpaw, Firepaw, Ivypaw, Sunflower, Swansong, Primrosepaw, Flowerthorn, Wrenspring, Smokefeather, Redfall, Willowpaw, Juniperlight, Mintkit, Sweetpaw, Dustpaw..." Tinylegs, Bloodstrike, and Adderpaw brought up the rear, the latter two singed and bleeding, and Wolfcall paused behind his children, shame and sorrow making him close his eyes for just a moment. He'd failed them, both as a father and a deputy, and now look at them.

A shuddering breath escaped him. Foxfire, Spottedstar, and Murkpelt were the only cats he didn't see among the group. He'd heard his father tell the ex-deputy, and the closest thing Wolfcall ever had to an older brother, to go to ThunderClan and warn them, so he was theoretically safe, but... Wolfcall shook his head, sprinting back to the front of the group, "I know you're tired and scared but we need to pick up the pace," he told them, making his way back to his mate's side.

Eventually, they passed a large boulder that the deputy knew meant they were close - another twist in the path and the river would be dead ahead. He loped ahead of the group, long tail streaming behind him, and made the turn, breaking into a sprint. They'd be safe here, and they could wait for his parents to catch up while they-

Wolfcall skidded to a halt at the riverbank... or, at least where the riverbank used to be. Because the river was gone. "No... no no no no no." The dark tom waded through the thick, cementlike mud where once the river had run. Even the little bit of moisture that remained - enough to clump to his legs and belly like hungry parasites as he forced through it - wasn't enough to provide even a mouthful of water for the thirstiest kit. He waded back to the bank just as the group caught up, and forced the defeat that he felt not to show on his features. His mind raced, and his eyes traced the outline of the fire that even now was pursuing them like a pack of hungry hounds. They had a few minutes. But only just. And he had little time to decide where they were supposed to go from here.

The shatter of a blazing log crashing to the ground somewhere in the forest they'd just fled made Wolfcall's ears flick backwards, and he stared back down the path they'd come, desperately hoping to see the shape of his parents moving towards them, but... there was nothing but cinders dancing in the air, and spreading the blaze to more dry, water-starved trees. StarClan, please...

Smokefeather's gaze swept worriedly over her clanmates as they left the camp, seeking the forms of her kits and mate first. They were alive, at least, but she worried for her longer-furred daughters in the intense heat of the flames. Beechpaw's long fur was stained with ash as she kept pace with Bloodstrike and Adderpaw, but she didn't appear to be burned or seriously hurt. Dawnpaw, Dustpaw, Primrosepaw... All here, all accounted for. The thought was a relief, for the moment. She'd spent most of the journey putting herself between the wall of heat and her apprentice, refusing to let Primrosepaw get any closer than was strictly necessary. It was uncomfortable, and at some point her paws had caught a stray spark as she'd fled camp with the rest of her clanmates, but the pain in her burned paws was the last thing on her mind.

Every once in a while, she'd notice Beechpaw glance over her shoulder, dark eyes searching. For Sagelight? Spottedstar? Simply eyeing the flames that had engulfed their home? It was hard to tell, Beechpaw's expression unreadable. Smokefeather gently rested her tail against Beechpaw's shoulder in silent reassurance, before continuing the trek onward. The river meant safety, right? It had to.

Wolfcall had broken into a sprint as they'd rounded the last turn, and Smokefeather picked up her own pace as well, hopeful. And those hopes immediately went up in flame as she saw what had become of the river. It had been lower than ever but... No, it couldn't be.

"Great Starclan, this can't-" Words lost in an uncharacteristic coughing fit, Smokefeather hardly recognized her own voice, rough and raspy as it was. Ears flattening in dismay, Smokefeather turned to stare down the winding banks of the river, or where the river had once flowed so strongly.

---

Beechpaw had escaped the camp with Bloodstrike and Adderpaw, breath ragged as she struggled for clean air amid the smoke and flames. Her eyes and nose stung from the heat and smoke, and Beechpaw was sure many of her clanmates had to feel those effects too. Bloodstrike and Adderpaw looked like... well, like they'd been closer to the flames than any cat should have been. None of them were invincible, but it was alarming all the same to see her father's burned and bloody visage. She'd cringed away from even the barest brush of heat against her, Beechpaw didn't want to imagine how much pain some of the more wounded cats had to be in. And that only brought her thoughts back around to what Sagelight had told her. The more she thought about it, the less sure Beechpaw was of anything. The one thing she was sure of, was that she did not enjoy not being able to do anything about their current predicament.

Smokefeather's coughing drew the apprentice from her thoughts, and Beechpaw winced internally at the painful sound. She opened her mouth to say something- what, she wasn't sure- and then closed it again. All she could do was blink owlishly for a moment as she processed the scene in front of her. Was that the river, what was left of it? Beechpaw wished desperately that she'd awake from this nightmare, safe in her nest.

The medicine cat plodded along at the very, very back of the retreating cats, fur coated with a layer of ash, his whiskers singed from the heat of the flame that had engulfed camp. In his mouth he carried what he could salvage from his herb stock, bundled together in leaves to keep them safe. Wrenspring was kind enough to grab what he could as well, although the younger tom was able to keep a better pace with the rest of the Clan. Sagelight made no sound as he brought up the rear, save for a ragged cough from inhaling too much smoke. His throat and lungs burned uncomfortably and he desperately needed water, as he was certain every other cat did, but unfortunately there would be no water to be found.

The older tom's eyes were glazed over and glassy with shock, paws trembling with each step. As far as he knew, he was the last one out of camp, and Spottedstar and Murkpelt weren't with him. He still held on to that little sliver of hope that told him they had made it out alive, but as he looked back over his shoulder at the blazing carnage behind, it screamed otherwise. Spottedstar would most likely survive, but Murkpelt... Sagelight sighed out another cough and trudged on, grief heavy in his heart. He had time to worry about that later, for now, he had to help his Clan.

The band of exhausted SkyClanners began to stop, so Sagelight craned his neck to look up ahead. Wolfcall was leading, and had stopped before the bank of the river. Something was wrong, though, terribly wrong. No one else was moving. The pointed tom picked up his own pace, breaking into a trot and then a run as he saw what the problem was. He stepped up to the deputy's side and dropped his precious bundles onto the ground, sides heaving from the exertion. The river...was gone. It was their only hope... He found himself sinking weakly to the ground, giving his legs a much needed rest. "It's gone..." he croaked, staring out at the muddy bottom of where the river should be. Another look over his shoulder told him that the fire was still coming, ever-steadily engulfing the rest of the dry forest. He had to think fast. Where else could the Clan go? If the river was dried up, did that mean RiverClan was having issues as well? And...the other Clans hated SkyClan, none of them would house an entire Clan...

A pit of fear dropped into Sagelight's stomach and he raised his head to look at Wolfcall. "Spottedstar's not here...at the moment, so the decision comes down to the two of us..." he rasped, slowly climbing back to his paws. "Wolfcall, I...The only other place I can think of that we can go is Twolegplace. We can't go back to camp, there's no more camp to go back to. We can't stay here, there's no water. The other Clans...I don't think they'd take us in, not with the political mess we're in right now...I think it's our only hope." His stark blue eyes searched his nephew's yellow ones, deep pools of fear visible in them. He didn't have a good answer either, he was the link between StarClan and the Clan itself, and even he was unsure about what was to come. "I-If we go there for a little while, at least, just a little while to give us time to recuperate...I think we'll be okay, but we have to be careful."

Dawnpaw was tired, his eyes downcast as he fled the only home that he knew. He didn't even have anything to say to Beechpaw and probably wouldn't for several days. Once Wolfcall picked up the pace, his eyes lifted and he trotted after the deputy. Once he rounded the corner and his eyes were met with... nothing but mud at the bottom of the riverbed... he let out a long, exasperated sigh. His lack of emotion was a result of just being tired. He was too tired to talk. Too tired to even feel. He must have been in shock. He plopped down onto his rump and just stared at it in silence. A thought crossed his mind, suggesting that he should dig to find water, and his eyes tiredly scanned the riverbed for the lowest point.

Without a word to anyone and barely even registering Sagelight's words, Dawnpaw jumped down into the riverbed. The mud clinging to his legs and soiling his fur woke him out of his numbed, trance-like state. Ugh... He lifted his paws higher than normal as he walked, as if he could just step over the mud and not have it cling to him.

Dawnpaw thought he found the lowest spot in the riverbed that he could see and just began throwing mud behind him. Dig dig dig. There was water here.... there had to be. The ground was still wet. After several moments of determined scratching and throwing clumps of mud out of the way... there was a bit of water. But... it just wasn't enough to make much of a difference, and the fire was still coming. Theoretically, Dawnpaw probably could dig deep enough to find water, but he just didn't have the time. With this realization, his digging motion became slower and less enthusiastic until it finally slowed to a stop.

"This isn't going to work." He muttered quietly to himself, accepting that the water was just too far down for an apprentice's paws to reach. The fire would come and burn them all if they stayed here.

If this is supposed to be punishing me, Starclan, then you know nothing about me. Burn the whole forest. Kill all of your loyal followers. I will survive and I will curse all of you until my very last day.


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Bloodstrike had tried to walk normally, even on his burned paw, but after about the 100th time or so of him gritting his teeth to endure the pain and not show weakness to his clan, Bloodstrike began to keep it raised and hobble forward. He had hoped that once they reached the river, he could lay in it for a bit and soothe his bone dry throat. Alas... he came upon the empty riverbed. His expression never changed, but his heart sank. He watched his son try to dig, and would have helped if he thought it would have made a difference. Smart thinking at least on his son's part. Smokefeather's coughing fit had him snap his attention to her. She was miserable... they all were.

He walked into the riverbed to smother his burnt paw in mud. He growled in response to the pain at first, but it was still more soothing than nothing. His back stung. The left side of his ribs stung. Bloodstrike lowered himself, no longer caring what he looked like to the clan at the moment, and tried to lay in whatever moisture that he could... anything to soothe his burns. He had no idea if his fur would ever grow back there, but he didn't have high hopes.

Sagelight approached Wolfcall and started talking, neither of them too far away from where he was. For several hearbeats, Bloodstrike was silent. Twoleg place made sense, as much as he didn't want to go there. The Twolegs always had water... somehow. Once Sagelight mentioned the political issues between Skyclan and the rest of the clans... Bloodstrike released a deep growl from the pit of his chest. His fur bristled and his hackles rose. Still, he slowly got back to his feet, his entire side covered in black mud. His movements were calm and his face showed nothing more than a minor annoyance... but his muscles were tense and his fur would not lie flat.

"I told Spottedstar we needed to be on better terms with the other clans moons ago and he dismissed me from his sight. Now look at where we are." He growled, though his voice was surprisingly level still. He didn't want to hear Sagelight defend his idiot brother's actions, which he had a feeling he was going to try to do, so Bloodstrike moved away from the two of them, ears flattened back, before he found another spot to try to lay down in. He hoped Adderpaw would follow his lead. She had worse burns than he did.

Willowpaw slowed down slightly, panting. She was exhausted from the continuous running. Right on time, Wolfcall called for them to speed up. Willowpaw forced herself to continue running, her lungs aching by this point. She had learnt the hard way that inhaling deeply did not help and only made her cough, losing more precious air.

The other cats were slowing down. Why were they slowing down?

Slowing down and letting herself take in deeper breaths, Willowpaw peered forward. Her heart sank as she saw-and surprisingly, registered-the dry riverbed. She heard that the river was their last hope against the fire...Which meant they were in trouble...

Lost in her thoughts and mind still clouded over by panic, Willowpaw stopped on the spot and stared across the river, waiting for movement and completely not registering any words that were said.

"Bloodstrike, enough."

Wolfcall had listened to Sagelight's advice with a weary, defeated expression, and when Bloodstrike chimed in he was in no mood to hear the 'I told you so'. But as he turned away to once more stare down the path they'd come, he nodded a Sagelight. The fire was wasting no time in pursuing them. It spread hungrily from one tree to the next, ravaging and destroying everything in its path. The breeze was blowing the carnage straight towards them, and the deputy was no fool: if they lingered here, they would be the fire's next victims, and he couldn't let that happen. With Spottedstar gone - for how long, only the stars knew - he and his uncle had to guide the clan.

ShadowClan, RiverClan, WindClan... they truly had burned too many bridges to resort to help from any of them. And ThunderClan was directly in the fire's path. The forest was no longer safe for SkyClan. "That's where we'll go, then," he turned back to face the medicine cat, dull gaze. "I know a place that should be safe enough, temporarily."

Raising his voice so the rest of the clan could hear, Wolfcall instructed: "Follow me, we're going to Twolegplace! Keep your wits about you, and STAY CLOSE."

Mintkit just heard what Wolfcall said over the fire. Twolegplace? What’s wrong with the river? She took a quick look at the river. It’s all dried up! No wonder we are going to twolegplace! She took one last look at the river before following the rest of SkyClan. Wait... where’s Spottedstar? And Foxfire and Murkpelt? Where are they? She shook her head, clearing out these thoughts, before hurrying to catch up.

Primrosepaw stayed close to her parents as to not get lost in the mass of pelts. By the lurching stop in movement, the cream apprentice instantly knew something was wrong. She heard her father's angry comment on their limited relations with the other clans. He's right, this would be much better for us if the clans got along better. But he probably shouldn't challenge Spottedstar like that. Its fine, he's just angry and scared for our clan. 

"It's gone..." she heard Sagelight's croaky mew from the front of the group. The river had dried up with the recent lack of rain and hot weather, and now there was nothing to protect them from the horrors of the fire. What are we going to do? Is the river dried up all the way to RiverClan? She heard him suggest Twolegplace - it wasn't far, but Primrosepaw knew she would struggle with the new environment, as her and Smokefeather were still slowly working through memorising small sections of the territory in training, but a lot of that work would go to waste now, with[/size] the old territory burnt to ashes, all the familiar scents gone. From her few trips to the wooden fence that bordered SkyClan from the Twolegplace, it seemed like a busy place, with hundreds of overpowering scents, each one competing to be on top. She knew she would struggle, but pushed back the thoughts and followed the group into the unknown territory beyond. Whatever it was like, it would be better than burning.

Parched lungs struggled and wheezed from the smoke inhalation. Hardly any time had passed since his encounter with Redfall, the last time he'd seen his friend. And now this. Wrenspring's heart constricted as he briefly remembered his former clanmate. From what it sounded like, the russet tom hadn't returned. He hadn't asked much about it or said much of anything since the brutal attack. The medicine cat had worked to heal the wounds best he could but they were still fairly fresh and horrifically deep. After the attack, the warrior had doubted that he would ever be able to ever walk easily again. Crooked tail dragging in the earth behind him, the gray and white warrior stumbled along with herbs crammed between his teeth. Brushing his coat against that of a clanmate might have provided comfort but he could hardly keep pace with the clan. These precious herbs were to be saved for other cats even if his own half-lidded gaze had begun to gray at the edges.

Somewhere along the way, his paws had been singed by smoldering twigs and only furthered the limp of his awkward gait. Making this journey seemed wholly impossible. Already he felt his resolve slipping. Wrenspring had an enduring soul, one that could always take what was thrown his way. But between the state of his physical being and his spirit, paws faltered. Wrenspring stumbled closer to a clanmate and dropped the herbs at their paws. He offered little more than pleading eyes and a nod. Had he any more resolve, the tom would have tried to help lead the clan out in this time and supported others. But not his eyes could hardly drink in their surroundings. It felt surreal, like a dream. All his body screamed for was rest. He loped his way towards shaded, half-dried, foliage. There was fleeting shade, a reprieve from the pressing heat. Words that drifted through the air were merely a mutter from a world far away. He longed to rest and quickly succumbed to the sleepless world. Stinging and searing wounds, combined with burned paws were briefly forgotten. It didn't occur to the tom that the clan was leaving; he hardly considered much of anything right now.

Smokefeather merely stared ahead in dismay as Wolfcall and Sagelight talked, ears flattened in anger. She agreed with Bloodstrike's comment, but grimly kept her silence. Where was Spottedstar, anyways? Had he made it out of the flames? Smokefeather wasn't too worried about his survival, their leader still had lives left. But what of their clanmates who only had one life and were missing? Mistrain, Foxfire... Smokefeather could only hope that they made it through this.

Twolegplace seemed like their only option at this point. The other clans wouldn't help them and Thunrderclan's territory would probably burn just as Skyclan's was soon enough. Smokefeather worried for Primrosepaw. They had come so far... And Twolegplace was far different from anything the clan would be used to.

Wearily, she turned to follow the rest of the clan. Noticing that Wrenspring was struggling, she gently picked up the herbs when he finally dropped them. The gray tabby looked exhausted, the deep wounds couldn't be helping the situation at all.

"Wrenspring, we can't stay here. You have to keep moving." She urged, nudging the tom to his feet. "Lean on me, come on." If the ailing tom wasn't going to move, she'd drop the herbs and half-drag, half-carry him if she had to. She was not going to let another clanmate be left behind.

---

Beechpaw listened to the others, dark gaze seeming glassy as the shock and exhaustion set in. Would Twolegplace even be safe? She'd seen the massive creatures that day with Wolfcall, how could they possibly be safe there? Still, she trusted her mentor enough to follow the rest of the clan, choosing to ignore his comment about Spottedstar. He hadn't approached her about... anything, since her meeting with Sagelight and her confession. Either way, there were more important things to focus on, like getting somewhere where they could breathe without inhaling smoke.

Noting that her mother had dropped back to struggle with Wrenspring, Beechpaw silently dropped back as well. They should be able to support his form between them, at least. With two of them supporting him, they could better keep up with the clan, she hoped. The tom seemed like he was halfway into the ground, but they couldn't leave him.

Smoke lingered in the air, tickling the back of her throat with a raspy sensation and stinging in her eyes. Swansong wandered with all of the rest of them, her heart squeezed as her eyes flicked to all of the ash-stained pelts limping, some heads hanging as they stopped near the river. She didn't look much better, stray embers had darkened her pelt, areas on her legs stinging from running on hot ashes, kicking up glowing specks. A shudder ran through her body at the memory of twisted orange tongues rising to the sky through the darkness, Pine trees cracking on all sides.

Adjusting her grip on the wad of vaguely smoky-tasting herbs in her maw, she pricked her ears, stepping forward to hear what Wolfcall had to say, her fur prickling at the tone of his rasping mutter. What could have...? Her heart dropped into her paws as her ears caught Sagelight's rasp, dread rising in her throat like the smoke from the fire behind them as she padded closer to the riverbank, searching for a glimmer of water. They're right, it's gone....

A feeling of crushing exhaustion tightened around her limbs, and she looked to the side as someone caught her eye, Willowpaw's ashen face staring blankly at the pit where the river had once been. An inexplicable lump caught in her throat, and she let her tail rest over her apprentice's back - what little comfort she could give - as she gazed back out over the river, too worn down to speak.

Sagelight's voice broke through the haze starting to cloud her being, and she felt her ears twist at the mention of twolegplace. That was where Amberdawn went.... There wasn't much for a cat to live on there, especially not an exhausted Clan that would have to compete with every rogue bent on defending their own small patch - if the stories she'd heard had any merit, at least. But what else can we do? Her ear flicked at Bloodstrike's comment. He might not be alive to see the result of his mistakes. A comment like that isn't going to help any of us, especially not now.

But Wolfcall knew that as well as the rest of them did, and she turned to Willowpaw as he called them to move, gently nudging her to start her moving with the rest of them, keeping close by her side. They were mostly at the back, and another grey and white pelt caught her eye, his form supported by Smokefeather. Wrenspring. She gently guided Willowpaw in their direction, her heart twisting briefly at the sight of his wounds. Redfall.... The hollow in her stomach wasn't from the smoke, nor the agonizing lump in her throat, but she did her best to push it aside.

"If you need a paw, we can help," She mewed quietly around the herb bundle in her jaws as clearly as she could, dry throat and all. Casting a quick glance up ahead at the others pushing forward, she added, "At the very least, we can limp together."

It was the least she could do for Wrenspring, after everything with Redfall. I trained him, it was my fault. She glanced down at her current apprentice as they walked, trying to banish the swirling doubts in her mind, and just focus on each step.

As Swansong pressed against her, Willowpaw took a deep, unsteady breath, slowly coming back to the present. She took comfort in the touch and slowly pulled her mind in, focusing on the present.

When Swansong guided her to Wrenspring, Willowpaw followed along with her head low. She gave Wrenspring an encouraging smile when Swansong talked, but didn’t talk herself for fear of her voice breaking.

Dustpaw was following alongside the group of cats still not entirely sure on what was going on, and where they could be going. She wasn't slowed down much because she was one of the first out of the camp in the end and was barely burned if at all. Cats had done their duties and rushed to help those who needed it whilst she was more confused and concerned with saving her own tail. She cursed herself silently and looked around at the group of cats that were there in the group. It was most of the usual, her family and some others, but there was one she noticed was missing. Mistrain, her mentor. Dustpaw hadn't really gotten to know her aunt and didn't do much with her as an apprentice to their mentor before the camp burned, but...there was still a bit of worry in her heart. Sure she was arrogant, self-centered, naive and pretty much whatever else any cat wanted to call her if it were a foul descriptor and in her eyes most other cats weren't important whatsoever but in the small time Mistrain was forced onto her as a mentor Dustpaw had unknowingly put her slightly higher on the importance list.

She looked over the other cats once again and asked aloud, "Hey has...anyone seen Mistrain?" Her voice was a bit more dry-sounding than usual, she'd probably inhaled some smoke after all but not nearly as much as--her thoughts stopped and she turned in the direction of coughing. It was her mother...her eyes softened a tiny bit and she hissed under her breath when she took her eyes off her mother and looked again at all the other cats. That rotten StarClan...they've gone ahead and cursed us, haven't they? What is it, some cats in SkyClan? SkyClan itself? What about the other clans? Or have they picked favorites? Dustpaw's train of thought stopped as her worry quickly turned to rage the more she thought about what or how this event was brought about and how it must be StarClan's doing, the quiet hisses from earlier becoming loud enough for other cats to probably hear before she swiped a clawed paw at the ground in front of her and stopped as she noted the cats in the group had mostly slowed down. She pushed ahead and saw...nothing, there was no river, only mud. If this was Wolfcall's plan from the start well...it failed, quite badly. Of course there was no river, the ridiculous heat from the days before must have made dry up.

Her tail flicked as she awaited whatever the plan was next after the failure of this one. Annnnnd....Twolegplace? That was the decision? Dustpaw scowled and followed along when ordered to do so. Far be it from her of all cats to disobey orders...right? At this point she had gone back to caring only for her own safety, and if the so-called safest place was Twolegplace, then so be it.

Yarrowkit wasn't sure how things had gone so badly so quickly. She had heard vague whispers about how the season was dry and how there were strange two-legs about, but new didn't usually make its way into the Nursery all that clearly. The older cats, especially the queens, always tried to keep their young ears from bad news.

So, when Yarrowkit was suddenly dragged away from the only home she'd ever known and told the news that everyone would have to leave their camp for now, she knew it was Very Bad. Yarrowkit had never left the safety of camp before today. To do it now, while there was a fire and they were all running as fast as they could? Yarrow was close to tears as she "ran" as fast as she could through the unfamiliar area. It was all she could to do place each paw carefully in front of her. She didn't want to trip and fall like usual.

Unfortunately, her body didn't listen, and really, her anxiety only made her clumsiness worse so she should've known. While Yarrowkit was busy trying not to think of what they'd left behind, she ended up tripping over one paw, and stumbled to the ground in a heap. "Aaah--!"

--
(yarrow is a very anxious kit and ends up tripping and falling in her anxiety, sorry)