Bound [OPEN]

OOC: Direct continuation of Crown of Knives. Smokefeather is too injured to stand on her own and is in shock. This is an open thread, whoever finds Smokefeather should probably get her back to camp sooner rather than later.

Smokefeather watched Dawnhawk's quickly retreating form, replaying his words in her head. The approaching patrol had saved her, she knew. He wouldn't have stopped until she was dead, she was fairly certain of that much.

The patrol was getting closer, but Dawnhawk was already gone, like the cowardly traitor he was. Smokefeather turned her focus to the patrol, struggling to get to her paws. She made it about halfway before her leg reminded her of just how injured it was, and the bloodied warrior hissed, black spots dancing in her vision as a wave of fresh agony shot through her leg.

Smokefeather suddenly found herself to winded to make a sound. She was on the ground, she realized, though she was vaguely aware that she'd made it to her paws for a few precious seconds. The injured leg must've given out on her. Her flank hurt too, but it was nothing compared to the fire that was her left rear leg, now. The hurt blended together, making it hard to even think. Dimly, she was aware of cats approaching, clanmates, her nose told her belatedly, but it seemed... inconsequential, almost. Agony still shot through her leg and side, and she couldn't seem to get her legs beneath her.

Tornpaw heard the sounds of fighting and the smell of blood her, heart dropped. At first she thought the worst had finally happened. Dawnhawk had been caught on Skyclan territory, and was getting punished for his "supposed" crimes. With fear in her heart she raced forward hoping she wouldn't come to see her dead father on the ground. The sight she came to see wasn't the one she thought in her head, so there was some relief in her heart but it was gone quickly as soon as she realized it was one of her clanmates injured. Oh.. Smokefeather..

Her urgency slowed a little. This was the cat that avoided her at every turn. The cat that blamed her for her father's actions. Should she even try to help? She couldn't help but look upon her older clanmate with cold eyes. She approached slowly but didn't make any effort to help Smokefeather stand. "Are you okay?" She asked her voice laced with concern but probably not as much as some would like. "I'm sure one of the others were on the way to get Beechface as we speak. We can try to meet them half way."

Copperfox ran to the spot where he heard fighting and smelled blood. He recognized his mother's yowls immediately, but it took him a moment later to realize the other belonged to Dawnhawk. He saw that Tornpaw had already made it there... and the sight of his mother bloodied and on the ground sent a wave of nausea and terror through his being. "Mother!" He called out before he slid to a stop beside her. "Can you through a foreleg over me? I'm not tall but I'm fairly strong. I can carry you!"

"Put her on me." Bloodstrike's voice cut through the air and Copperfox looked over at him in time to see him slow to a walk to Smokefeather's side. Bloodstrike sank to his belly and waited. His face was calm enough, but his muscles were tense and his claws were extended from his toes. He was far from happy to discover his former mate in such a state.

"It was him, wasn't it?" Bloodstrike asked Smokefeather, obviously meaning Dawnhawk. His jaw visibly clenched behind his cheeks and the gumline around his exposed fang began to moisten. He was barely containing himself from flying into full on murder mode.

Copperfox tried to nudge Smokefeather toward Bloodstrike's back. "Tornpaw, help me balance her."

Smokefeather struggled to fight down her panic at the realization that it was Tornpaw's golden and white pelt that had come into view. She closed her eyes, struggling with her breathing. Tornpaw didn't seem all that upset... And Smokefeather figured it was only fair. She'd certainly earned whatever animosity the apprentice held for her. She'll probably turn out exactly like Dawnhawk, anyway.

You might... go, warn Beechface. And get away from me.Smokefeather managed to speak, though it was clear she was fighting down her own panic to do so. Why did Tornpaw of all cats have to find her? Tornpaw, who she'd done her best to avoid for moons. Tornpaw, guilty of being nothing more than Dawnhawk's daughter, innocent of the crimes that he'd committed. Still, all she could see when she looked at her was a gold pelt and haunting azure eyes.

Surely she wanted even less to do with Smokefeather than Smokefeather wanted to do with her. Sending her to go find Beechface was a kindness for both of them, one neither of them deserved. Beechface had taken a liking to Tornpaw and had argued with Smokefeather about her, even. Yet Smokefeather was unable to shake off the image of a very different cat when she looked at the young apprentice. Guilt pricked at her as Beechface's words rang in her mind. She knew she was being unfairly harsh, she knew.

More pawsteps, and the sounds of Copperfox and Bloodstrike's voices were like being dunked into the freezing river. Focusing on them would be better than focusing on that stars-cursed apprentice, however.

"Who else?" Smokefeather's tone was strangely hollow. Of all the cats to find her, it would be Bloodstrike and Tornpaw, the two she wanted to see the least. Starclan had to be laughing at her, this was their sick idea of a joke. The anger she felt was... muted, somehow. She felt... distant from it.

She struggled to avoid putting weight on her leg while doing what Bloodstrike instructed, but her movements were hindered by the fact that she'd never had a leg injury before. If one of the others wasn't quick enough, Smokefeather was more likely to find herself on the ground again.

At her mentor's instruction's the apprentice moved forward and went to support the injured warrior, almost robotically. If it wasn't for Copperfox's words Tornpaw might not have helped the warrior at all in making it to her partner in getting back to camp. Her azure eyes were blank. Dark thoughts clouded her mind. Smokefeather didn't deserve her help, didn't deserve any of the kindness she was being shown right now. She should have been left here to suffer and die. Even with the dark thoughts in her mind, the apprentice continued to assist. She continued to be kind. She continued to be what Skyclan wanted her to be.