with this dying breath [currently closed]

A much younger tom had once powered through such deep clawmarks, healing as if such blows would be far from the last. But now his ruffled fur was dull, paw twisted to match the kink tail, and it seemed that these angry welts sought nothing more than to fester with infection. Wrenspring went through bouts of restless chills that wracked his frame without reprieve. His senses were stuffed with the overwhelming stench of herbs - a sign of a futile effort at healing. What afflicted the former warrior now buried deeper than the head of a tick and went beyond the visible reach of those wretched claws.

It became increasingly more obvious with each painstaking day - Wrenspring would not recover from this.

He'd wrestled with this idea through fits that came to him in the night. Dreams were often interrupted by tides of agony and flares of fever. True rest and sleep seemed farther away as his body flickered from icy cold to sweltering heat in faster than it would take a cat to twitch his whiskers. Through this long nights, the tom swore he could almost feel the presence of Graybird at his side. Was she waiting for him? Was it finally time? At first this thought had overwhelmed him with fear but it slowly gave way to a desperate longing, admittedly a selfish one. He wanted to leave this state of being behind and slip into the ease of the afterlife.

But there was so much that he would be leaving behind.

Considering his sweet kits, Birdsong and Shadewing, caused a lump to form in his throat. And how would Beechface fare? He wanted to claw at the earth with what feeble strength he had to vent frustrations about the unfairness of the situation. Starting with the retirement to elderhood, Wrenspring had begun to face his own morality. It was something that he had managed to accept for himself, realizing that leaving this world behind would mean little to him. Yet it was those he would be leaving and a lack of ability to devote himself to them that had torn him to shreds inside.

"Beechface." He croaked, wincing at the sound of his own voice, "Beechface... get the kits. Please..."

Beechface slumped in her nest, claws flexing into the moss in silent frustration. The den was crowded, it was all she and Muddythorn could do to heal the clan's injuries, and even then... Foxfire was unconscious, had been since the attack, and that alone was worrisome even without how weak and frail he was. Wrenspring was curled in his nest, too injured to leave the den. His wounds had taken on a distinctly sour smell despite Beechface's efforts, his fur unreasonably warm to the touch as infection had set in. Nothing she did seemed to work to bring the infection to heel, and Beechface cursed Dawnhawk under her breath for the wounds he had caused. She could throw all the herbs in the world at him, and nothing seemed to help. It was useless. Anger burned in her chest at the idea.

Wrenspring's voice had her head snapping towards him, worry evident in dark eyes as they regarded the injured tom. He'd been strong once, able to fight with the best of them and he'd survived grievous injury before. This time though... Beechface shook her head, not wanting to think about it. For now, he was here, that was all she could ask for. She hated seeing him like this.

He asked for the kits, and Beechface closed her eyes. "O- of course." Beechface mewed softly. Leaning down, she rasped her tongue between Wrenspring's ears, and padded outside the medicine den on heavy paws to seek out Birdsong and Shadewing. Wrenspring's daughters, their daughters, though they didn't know. Guilt tugged at her, for Ravenclaw's involvement and not being able to care for them herself as she'd wanted to. She was no longer sure that letting them believe Ravenclaw was their mother was the right thing. It certainly hadn't been for Ravenclaw herself.

"Birdsong, Shadewing." Beechface spotted the siblings sitting together, cringed inwardly at Birdsong's obvious discomfort at the sight of the medicine cat.The one cat she had never wanted to intimidate, and Birdsong was scared of her.

"Come, Wrenspring wants to see you both." She didn't bother waiting for their responses, simply turned back towards the medicine den. She didn't need to see Birdsong's face to know she worried for her father, didn't need to see the tenseness in her shoulders to know that she didn't want to be anywhere near the medicine den and the ugly reminders of the bloodshed and violence.

Still, Birdsong followed her towards the den, ears flicking back just as Beechface's were. For her, it had been impossible to miss the air of exhaustion about the medicine cat, mixed with frustration and grief. Beechface seldom looked particularly happy, but today wasn't just her typical irritableness either, Birdsong thought. This was something else entirely... And she wasn't sure she wanted to know how bad things were for the medicine cat to look as exhausted as she did.

Shadewing raised her head at Beechface's voice, her expression grim. She didn't have to ask to know that Wrenspring's outlook wasn't good, she saw it written all over the medicine cat's face. Silently, she rose to her paws, intertwining her feathery tail with her sister's in an attempt to comfort the both of them. The tugging lump in her throat threatened to spill over the closer she came to the medicine den; she didn't want to see her father in such a poor state. It wasn't like she could say no to him, however, so she did her best to swallow her emotions as they entered the den. Wrenspring lay in his nest, eyes and pelt dull, and the dark she-cat couldn't hold the dam back any longer. He looked terrible, and she padded closer to lay next to him as tears ran down her cheeks. "Oh, Dad...What did you get yourself into?" she mewed between sniffles, rasping her tongue over her father's tattered ear.

Through the weariness of a lifetime, Wrenspring found himself unable to do little more than slit his eyes. Rasping breaths caused the rough rise and fall of his heaving sides. The tom managed to catch a glimpse of Foxfire, whose presence he'd been vaguely aware of. Beechface's response almost startled him, he'd forgotten that the request had hung heavily in the air. She would gather the kits, and they would be together for once. That thought brought him solace but the rasp of the weary medicine cat's tongue caused a lump in his throat. He could feel the emotion behind the gesture and it made him want to weep.

As she pulled away, he momentarily shifted his attention back to Foxfire. The elder tom was in bad shape too, holding on despite all the many tragedies that had befallen him. There was a soft murmer, briefly interrupted by the shuddering of his frame, as Wrenspring muttered a plea to the ancestors. If anything, they needed to spare Foxfire, give him more time among the clan and accompanying peace; if there was a life to be taken tonight, the gray and white warrior knew that it would be his own. Curling into a tight ball, his crooked tail pressed to his side as some form of comfort. It seemed like so many moons ago that he'd been chased away from Shadowclan territory and the monster had tried to take his tail. He'd been blessed to live through it all, to make it this far.

Shadows were cast by the return of Beechface, and their kits in tow. A soft smile painted itself onto his maw. The pair looked a mess, pained by the inevitable death of their father. They knew. There was a flicker of a frown that was dismissed by the soothing sensation of Shadewing's tongue. He wanted to relish in that for as long as he could. Closing his eyes contentedly, the former warrior waited a moment before even considering the words to say. After a pause, there came a low and reassuring whisper, "Shh, my kit, don't be sad. You know I will never be too far."

There was a shakiness to his tone, betraying truly how worn he was from the trembling that wracked his ragged pelt. But this was his final fight. Wrenspring had never lost the spirit of a warrior, it was what had lead him hear. With a weak flicker of his tail, he called them closer. This was a moment that they would never get back, a time only made possible by the terrible circumstances that had brought them here. Steeling away his nerves, he sighed softly, "Birdsong, Shadewing... you need to know, your mother and I, we love you very much and... nothing will ever change that." His eyes darted to Beechface as another chill over took him.

"Please, Beechface, we have to tell them. I need them to know who I really am, what... what I've done. The... truth."

He wanted to look away, wanted to wince at the mere thought and the insinuates of his vague admission. Had it been easier, Wrenspring would have explained himself but it was becoming more and more painfully obvious that the breath in his lungs was of short supply. There were so many goodbyes to be said, words that he'd regret not sharing with these kits, and the rest of his clan. Locking eyes with the she-cat he loved, there was a pained plea. It was now or never. The kits needed to know that they'd been born of a medicine cat, and lived a lie. Saying nothing would have been easier, preserved this moment, etched it with a particular bittersweet sadness. But Wrenspring was not resigned to be a coward, even in death.

He sent another plea to Starclan, that perhaps they might forgive him for all that he'd done.

The medicine cat led the two warriors into the den, tail drooping as she caught Wrenspring's ragged frame. He was dying, even if she didn't want to admit it. The truth of the admission stung painfully, and she silently sat next to him, downcast eyes and lips pulling into a frown. All that training, all that time spent studying... It was absolutely useless. Foxfire was in a coma, and Beechface didn't think he'd make it, either.

"Dad..." Birdsong mewed softly, pressing forward alongside her sister. Beechface's demeanor had said it was bad. She had known it was bad, with how they'd found him after getting back to camp. But it still didn't quite prepare her for truly seeing it. She didn't want to think of her dad as mortal, didn't want to think of him as old and frail.

Wrenspring's voice was quiet, and Beechface kneaded at the moss beneath her paws restlessly. "Wren..." Beechface began, uncertain. This... Wasn't how she wanted to tell the kits. Not with their father dying, but... They did need to know the truth. He was right. "We should never have kept this hidden as long as we did." Time to admit to her faults, time to rip the cobwebs off, as Sagelight would have put it. Beechface had no doubt that her old mentor was disappointed in her, how could he not be? He'd said this should have been done moons ago... Better late than never, she supposed.

"Kept what hidden?" Birdsong's gaze lifted, flicking between the medicine cat and the elder in confusion. There was an innocent about her still, one that Beechface wished would never fade but that she knew would be ripped away sooner or later.

"We... I..." Beechface began, shifting uncomfortably. How was she supposed to say this? How was she supposed to tell them that their lives had been built on a lie? Beechface closed her eyes, swallowing down the bitterness that suddenly coated the back of her throat.

Shadewing had pressed her face into her father's fur, but pulled away when he croaked something about how they needed to know the truth. She frowned, sniffling to try and maintain her composure enough to speak. "I love you too...but, what are you talking about?" A growing sense of dread joined the grief already in her heart, turning her stomach into knots. Wrenspring had hidden something from them...and judging by Beechface's sudden nervousness, she had too.

The dark gray warrior raised her head, her ears pinning back against her skull. She drew tighter around her father in an attempt to comfort the both of them, but leveled her gaze at Beechface. "What have you been hiding from us?" She glanced over at her sister, then back at Beechface, and something horrible struck her. She had always noticed how they looked similar, but she just figured it was because Beechface was their aunt. But...what if that was a lie?

"You can't be serious..." she hissed, a new emotion clouding her heart, one she had never felt so strongly before.

Anger.

The anger was palpable in the air, a heat that twisted with the humidity and almost seemed to keep his chills at bay for a moment. Wrenspring felt his pelt churn with emotions he had stuffed away for so long. There was always some foolish hope that when the kits found out one day, they wouldn't resent their parents for these mistakes. For as much as he had become torn apart by guilt and confused by the events that had unfolded, bringing him and Beechface together, as he turned his head ever so slightly to find the face of his mate, he realized that this love was something he could never apologize for - not even to his kits.

Swallowing back the dryness of his throat, the former was warrior sought to find the right thing to say. Fighting off death seemed to pale in comparison. But there would be no other time, he wouldn't be able to simply return from the after life to offer up the truth about their origins. There came a few shallow rasps, the wheezing in the elder's chest was obvious. Wrenspring used what little strength he had to lift himself slightly. Slumping awkwardly against the medicine den wall, he looked pitiful, tired... with a soft strength underneath his half-lidded gaze, reminiscent of the great warrior he once had been.

"I... won't ask you to not be angry with me, or not to hate me before I go. I can't make that decision for you." He paused to let out a weak cough, "But please, please... do not hate your mother. She's always done all that she clan for this clan, and for you." Wrenspring sought to meet the gaze of Birdsong, and then Shadewing, in turn, the plea obvious in his eyes. While he had been talking about the medicine cat at his side, there was a double-meaning to the words. Ravenclaw. His former apprentice had raised the kits as her own, loving them as truly as any mother would; she deserved the world.

With that said, he collapsed. Previously, his forepaws had managed to raise his front half just enough for the moment, with the support of the chillingly cold stone. Now it was just the tom's head that leaned on the side of the cave. Eyes had closed and his breathing, while still labored, was a tad more peaceful than the moment before. The gray and white elder managed a low whisper from his resting place, eyes still closed, "I love you both, I always will. No matter how you feel about me. Now... I-I need to say good bye. To Ravenclan too and, and, Juniperlight."

Whatever the kits felt, that was for them to decide, to wrestle with and find reasoning. But now, his duty was to spent what little time he had left dwelling in Skyclan to say all the things he needed to, revealing this secret, expressing the love he had for his kin and his clan. Wrenspring was dying. There would be no more days to come and he wasn't going to squander it.

"Some Thunderclan elder mistook me for you and I didn't want to believe her." Birdsong hissed, ears flattening against her head. "Did everyone know but us?" Beechface's gaze dropping to her paws- massive, bloodstained paws- was all Birdsong needed to know the answer. Her gaze locked on Wrenspring, wishing that this was just another bad dream.

"Beechface isn't our mother, as far as I'm concerned." Birdsong replied, tone flat. "Ravenclaw raised us, not her. Did she know or did you lie to her too?" Birdsong didn't want to believe that the she-cat she'd looked up to and called 'mom' had deliberately lied to her, too. Ravenclaw was a good cat, she'd never go along with something like this.

"Spare Ravenclaw your anger, she..." Beechface's tone was quiet, betraying exhaustion and pain. She almost sounded vulnerable, and it was the first time that Birdsong had ever heard the medicine cat speak in such a tone. She wasn't sure that she believed it. "Ravenclaw offered to raise you as her own. She insisted, because she knew I wouldn't be able to with the Asylum and my own duties. She did the best she could and... was a better mother to you than I ever would have been."

"You didn't even try!" Beechface watched Birdsong's expression shift from one of plaintive disbelief to one of anger as glittering green eyes swung from Wrenspring back to her. "At least when Bloodstrike broke the code he didn't lie about it. You're no better than he is!" Birdsong hissed. Beechface said nothing, her only reaction was to flinch as if the blow had been physical Birdsong had always known the medicine cat to be argumentative, overbearing and stubborn, and now she wasn't even going to try?

For a heartbeat Birdsong was tempted to apologize, her words had been cruelly uncharacteristic, but... She was angry. Truly angry. And the medicine cat didn't deserve an apology. Tears blurred her vision as her gaze swept back to Wrenspring. Somehow he'd managed to find the strength to stand, and once she would've admired her father's strength. She wanted to press against him and cry but looking at him now, he was almost as much of a stranger to her as Beechface was. Her whole existence had been built on a lie, and Wrenspring had only seen fit to tell her and Shadewing when he was dying and might no longer have to face the consequences. He was every bit as selfish and cruel as Beechface was.

Birdsong opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut, there was a knot in her throat that she couldn't speak around anyways. Abruptly, she turned away. She couldn't sit here and do this, and she certainly couldn't follow her father's wishes for her to not be angry, not this time. How could she not be? With an apologetic glance towards Shadewing, the warrior stalked from the den, head and tail low, shoulders tense. She... Needed to be alone for a bit.

While Birdsong took her anger out on Beechface, Shadewing leveled hers at Wrenspring instead. She couldn't tell if the tears in her eyes were from anger or from despair, most likely a mix of both. "Dad...how could you? All this time, and you couldn't be bothered to tell us until you were safe from any repercussions..." Her stomach lurched at the thought, at her own vitriol, but she couldn't control it and it spilled from her body like water. "I looked up to you, I wanted to be just like you when I was a kit...I hope you're happy. I don't even care that you broke the Code, I couldn't care less! But I can't forgive you for keeping this from us." She glared at her father, ears pinned back, and part of her, just in that moment, was glad she wouldn't have to look at Wrenspring for much longer.

Shadewing now turned on Beechface, stalking towards her with her claws unsheathed. How could she just stand there and let Birdsong yell at her? She didn't even have a word to say for herself. "You look pathetic," she snarled, her tail cutting an angry arc behind her. "You're such a coward, you can't even tell your own kits that you're their mother. You're right, Ravenclaw was, and is, a better mother than you ever could be. It's so great to know how much you care about us, Beechface!" Out of the corner of her eye, she watched her sister leave. Sheathing her claws once more, she turned to follow her, casting a final furious look at the medicine cat. "Don't speak to me, I don't want to talk to you. Either of you."

She stalked out of the den to follow Birdsong. They needed each other more than ever now. Shadewing didn't want to stay in camp any longer, not then. Not after that. But first...She trotted over to catch up with her sister, brushing sides with her as she intertwined their tails. "I know you're not okay, 'cuz I'm not okay...but I'm here for you. We may not have them, but we have each other, and that will never change."