Stirring Foxes [Open]

In the darkness, there had been voices, Foxfire found. Most of them were familiar - some gentle and encouraging, some filled with vile and venom...But to him, in the darkness he had been wrapped in for moons...They were just noises, figments of a dream he could barely hold on to. It was...Calming in a way, unable to form a true thought and simply float in the darkness, his ears - if he had them in this strange expanse - perking as a new voice would break the silence before the emptiness would return. There was no pain, no...Nothing. He simply was. Deep down, there was a sense that something was not right - this wasn't normal, he was missing something but dwelling on those thoughts simply weren't possible.

That was, until, the darkness shifted. No longer was he floating, but he was laying. His senses were returning to him. He felt...Muddy - no, fuzzy. His senses felt wrong, worn...Weak. He tried to stretch out his paws but even the connection to those felt off, as if he was water-logged as he tried to get his body to move. He slowly started to try to feel out his body, only pausing when he realized he could feel the rhythmic pattern of somebody grooming his pelt. The confusion over that was enough for him to brave stepping from the comforting darkness and finally, his eyes opened. He recoiled at the faint light that filtered its way into the den - the barest hint of it still surprising after moons of darkness. He could feel his heart quicken, suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed by...Everything.

Everything that seemed so small, so...Unimportant to most cats suddenly felt strange and new to him as he was reconnecting with most of his senses. Suddenly he was aware of the overpowering smell of the herbs that Beechface had stocked in here, of the scent of the strange she-cat rolling over him. He was painfully aware of the grass that was pricking into his pelt as he shifted, of the voices that spoke just outside of the den. Of the stale taste in his mouth, along with traces of fresh-kill (had he been fed when he was out?). He wasn’t sure what to focus on, what to take in and he could feel panic rising in his chest - only added as he started to recall what had landed him in this den in the first place. He tried to open up his mouth to say something - anything - but found only pain as a cough and shudder ran through his body.

Finally, the elder threw his paws over his head, curling in on himself as a small whimper escaped his throat. He wished he was back in the darkness, where things were simple and he had felt and known nothing. It was easier than facing this reality, suddenly acute of the new scars that ran across his body - of the bloodshed and death he had seen at Dawnhawk's paws. Of the overwhelming nature of his freshly returned senses, struggling to know which to focus on first. He didn't know where to start, how to start - he didn't know the state of the Clan, of his fellow elders - he just...

It was just so overwhelming.

Beechface had stepped into the medicine den to talk with Muddythorn for a moment, as well as check up on Foxfire. He still hadn't woken up, though she and Muddythorn had been doing their best. Smokefeather and Sapphire would often sit with him, grooming his fur or trying to feed him what they could. Beechface didn't want to admit to either of them that she thought their efforts were in vain. She was no longer sure that anything they did was having any effect but to prolong the inevitable, but the stubborn medicine cat refused to stop trying. She didn't want Foxfire to be another clanmate lost to Dawnhawk's claws, as selfish as it may have been.

So when a sudden movement and then a cough from the direction of the ginger tom's nest shook her from her conversation with Muddythorn, her head snapped immediately towards Foxfire, eye brimming with concern.

"Foxfire...?" She mewed, almost hesitant. Not quite sure that she wasn't dreaming back in her nest in the elder's den. But this didn't seem to be a dream... And Foxfire was panicking. Only natural, she supposed. And Beechface, for all her own experience with the emotion... Had no idea how to deal with it in others.

"You're awake, finally!" She was relieved, so relieved. He'd spent moons in this den, with no sign of improvement. But now he was actually awake! If she still believed in Starclan, she might have thanked them for it. Too bad she thought that Starclan could go kick rocks.

And then her eye caught the empty nest that Wrenspring had occupied, and her mood immediately fell.

"Foxdung... You were out for... a while, Foxfire. You missed a lot." The thought of her current appearance didn't even cross her mind.

Dawnfeather had caught sight of Beechaunt heading into the medicine den. Maybe she could help! Was Muddy there? She thought he’d gone on a herb patrol- but she wasn’t sure. Pure curiosity prompted her to stick her head in, blinking several times as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Beechaunt was saying something… oh, right. Fox… Fox… Foxfire. His name was completely contradictory. He’d been asleep since Dawnfeather had been a kit- and she didn’t remember hardly anything from that time. Nothing concrete- but it was good that Fox…fire woke up! Dawnfeather nearly started talking… but the tom looked overwhelmed, or sad, or something, and so Dawnfeather kept her maw shut, standing in the entrance, not quite sure if she should stay or leave.

The dark queen rhythmically ran her tongue along Foxfire’s spine as she had done for moons. She wasn’t immune to the idea that he might never return to SkyClan, but she was determined to stick by his side. Sapphire wasn’t willing to give up. It seemed her patience was about to pay off to her surprise. His pulse quickened, and she paused mid lick, uncertain that she was perceiving correctly. Then he began to twitch, flexing his claws, and finally a wracking cough signaled the first of his consciousness. Sapphire gasped loudly, though she did not have to summon Beechface or Muddythorn. The medicine cat was already here.


“Oh, dear,” She meowed, concerned for his heavy breathing. Well, she hadn’t had high expectations for this moment. She was just happy it finally came. Now how could she help him in this novel situation? Stepping back from the tom huddled on the floor, she cast a questioning glance at Beechface. Too much information at once would be overwhelming. She’d follow her friend’s lead.

A little tuxedo tom waddled about SkyClan camp, trying to find wherever his brother  Cricketkit had tossed their mossball. His still-stubbly legs barely lifted him to the warriors’ elbows as they ran all around the place, going who knows where and doing who knows what. Adults were weird. The funny-smelling cat blew past him back to her equally funny smelling den. Curious about the bad words coming out of her mouth he turned and followed, forgetting about the ball completely. He wasn’t supposed to listen to cats saying bad words, but it was all so… interesting! Yewkit peered not-so-subtly into the medicine cat den, and between all the legs he could see the weird cat who’d been sleeping for moons and moons had finally woken up.

He turned and looked back towards his brother, his tiny voice perhaps a bit too loud when he piped up. “Cricket! The dead guy’s alive! Come look!”

Trotting after his brother was not an easy feat, especially with the way that his wobbly legs seemed to lack the ability to keep weight shifted equally between all four paws. Long legs looked unfit for such a tiny little tabby. The dark stripes of his pelt stood out against the sandy-gray tone that comprised most of it. Despite being so unimposing, between the energy that caused his paws to bounce and the patterning of his coat, Cricketkit could catch the eyes.

"Huff, Yewkit, wait up." Cricketkit stumbled to an awkward halt, tipping his head slightly at the other tom-kit's words, "The dead guy? You mean Foxsomething...?" Green eyes peered into the dim light of the den. There were several silhouettes of cats against the backdrop of the medicine cat den, all of them focus on the elder whose pelt had not stirred for moons. To such an unexperienced creature, it was difficult to digest the circumstances before them. His voice was a low whisper.

"You think mom and da can wake up too?"

Bloodstrike entered the den slowly, first peaking in almost awkwardly. He sighed, fighting back the frustrations and anxiety that constantly swirled around within him. He shot a look at the kits, though it looked far more tired than actually offended. How could they understand? He didn't expect them to.

"Kits, be polite. Give him a bit of room." He said softly, not at all punishing or harsh. He then focused his attention on the elder... and he knew what was to come eventually, but not now.

"Welcome back, Foxfire." He spoke softly so as not to make the elder tom's panic any worse. His eyes went to Beechface and his expression was just as dead as the robin's he'd caught this morning. He wasn't about to give her anything to latch onto and try to attack him with. Even his tone was nearly robotic.

"Do you need anything for him right now? I can go get it." Like food or moss with water.... surely being in a coma for so long had probably left him hungry and thirsty. ... Did he need to use the dirt place?

Oliverain dropped her couple of mice onto the prey pile, raising her head she saw something near the medicine den. Padding a bit closer she ignored the hunger in her stomach, eating could wait. She saw a couple of kits wander in, followed by the deputy Bloodstrike. She had to admit, her curiosity was piqued. What's going on in there that's got so many cats involved? Oliverain could guess a few things, but none she was certain on.

Once she reached the entrance hesitancy grasped her paws. Peering inside she saw there a handful of cats in there already, her large self wouldn't make it any better. She decided to sit outside, but listening closely. Looking in once again she realized everyone had their attention on Foxfire, and he was awake! Shock and pleasure filled her. Foxfire, the elder who hadn't been awake since she had been alive, actually woke up. She was surprised, but in the best way possible. The molly wanted to go in, to say hi to the cat she had never met, but that same hesitancy returned. He didn't look all that great, quite panicked and maybe confused. I'll be patient, I'll meet him once everything's quiet.

Foxfire could hear voices - a good deal of them but they were nearly lost in the wave of sensory imputs he was trying to sort out. He buried his head into his paws, a soft hiss escaping him as he wished that they would all give him room. He...He knew he was panicking, this wasn't the first time he had an attack like this. He just had to calm down, breath...Take things slow. It was hard, he felt like he wanted to gulp for every breath - as if he was running out of air even thought he knew he was breathing normally. He laid there, trying to get his breathing under control, ignoring the cats who were crowding around him before finally his gasping broke into a shaky gasp, letting his body to limp with relief as the panic attack faded and everything was normal.

He pulled his paws free, wiggling himself further into his nest to escape the crowding of the den. His eyes fell over the cats, ears twitching. He recognized...Two of the seven. Beechface, Bloodstrike - he knew them. But...The she-cat - she had been the one grooming him judging from her position - and two she-cats that were lingering near the entrance - actually, he was sure that he did recognize one...Dawnpaw? But this was a warrior and she had been an apprentice when he... He quickly moved on from that - he didn't want to try to dwell on that fact and then...Two kits. His expression soften at them, trying to think if he had caught any of what they had said in the midst of his panic attack. It was...Something about him being awake? And... He gave a shake of his head, curling in on himself before he glanced up at the one face he was happy to see - that he knew, at least. "Beechface - I...How long...?" His question sharply cut off as he properly got a look at the she-cat, his eyes widening in horror as he took in how...Rough she looked - the scars that lined her body, her missing eye.

"...What has happened while I was out?" he finally managed, before he glanced down at his paws. "How long have I been out? I don't...It was...I just remember darkness after-" he cut himself off again, taking in a deep breath as he glanced down at the two kits. No, it wasn't good to bring up the death and bloodshed in front of them. "Actually, I...I think that can wait until later, when there isn't so many..." He glanced around at the far more unfamiliar faces that were in the den. "...Maybe...Introductions is needed? I don't...Recognize most of you. Other than..." He glanced once more at the she-cat who had been grooming him, getting the faintest feel of familiarity. "...Weren't you accepted into the Clan shortly before...? I-I don't remember your name, I'm sorry," he apologized with a shake of his head. He could feel his head pounding with confusion, frustration - he didn't like not knowing so many of these cats. How long had he been out? Dawnpaw - if he was recognizing her correctly, he hadn't really seen her much as he hadn't been active in interacting with his Clanmates but... Dawnpaw was a warrior. Moons had past...But how many?

Sapphire’s fluffy tail swept the floor of the den. She could see his obvious confusion and stress at the situation, but she was unsure how to help. Beechface’s return to camp in such a state had alarmed the queen, too, but Foxfire had to deal with the trauma from the night he’d been injured, as well. She gave a measured meow after he turned to her in search of clarity. “Sapphire. Wolfstar allowed me to join SkyClan just before… that disaster of a night. It’s been a while. A couple moons, I think.” Sapphire glanced at Beechface and then Bloodstrike, looking for confirmation. Her grasp of their time system was a little weak still.

Yewkit’s tiny voice had captured her attention before Foxfire addressed her. She carefully moved along the wall of the den and drew the young kits close to her, tucking them beneath her thick chest fur and drawing a tongue across their foreheads in turn. “These are Oakfoot and Blacktooth’s kits. They are… no longer with us. Introduce yourselves, darlings. Foxfire is an elder and you must speak politely to him.” She nested with the brothers in the nursery ever since their parents passed. Someone had to watch over them, and by StarClan, she wasn’t about to let anyone else do it.

Beechface closed her eyes for a moment as a pair of kits came tumbling in, fighting back a low growl at their words. Insensitive, they were kits yes, but still. And then, of course, Bloodstrike just had to stick his nose where it didn't belong. "Wet moss... And maybe keep the kits out of the way." She sighed. Foxfire would probably be thirsty, and that was all she'd trust Bloodstrike to do. It wasn't a good idea to overload Foxfire with information just after he had woken up, but Bloodstrike would need to tell him the truth sooner rather than later.

Beechface nodded at Sapphire's questioning tone, "Thereabouts, yes." Beechface grimaced. Had it only been that long? It felt like it had been longer. Between Wrenspring, the kits leaving... Lichenblaze and Mountainheart had disappeared, and several others had as well. Starclan had tried to kill her, and she'd been punished for things that she didn't deserve to be punished for. "A lot, and nothing good." Her haunches hit the floor, betraying exhaustion and defeat. "Sooo... Bad news, bad news or bad news first?"

Bloodstrike didn't say anything and reacted very little. Once he was asked to go get the wet moss, he disappeared. He gathered the material that he needed and made a quick trot down to the creek. He'd wanted to get out of there anyway and he could only imagine how Foxfire felt right now. That was too many cats even for him and he hadn't been unconscious at all. He dropped the moss in the creek to soak for a few minutes and sat down. Okay... how do I begin to tell him this? He supposed the only answer was the honest truth. He hadn't recognized her. He really hadn't. He almost didn't even recognize Blossomstep once he'd finally stepped out of that prison and that was his mother. A she-cat he'd had very little interaction with despite being in the same clan had been asking for too much.

OOC: Gonna have him return in the next post.

“Don’t be a damp-fur, Beechaunt!” A light voice called, walking delicately in and sitting next to her aunt. “It’s alright, Foxfl- Foxfire, my bad. Every stormcloud has a silver lining, right Beechaunt? I mean, we’re all still alive.” She gently made a small scrape on the ground. “We’re free. We have each other. The prey is running well. We’re at peace, we have herbs, we have kits in the nursery and apprentices in the apprentice den. The sun still rises every day, somehow, (how does it know where to come up in the morning?), the moon does too. Not every morning, of course, every night. The leaves are pretty colors, Olive didn’t lose an eye from that acorn, I landed on my paws that time a crow tried to eat me, I was able to g- anyways, you get the idea. I can keep going on!” She’d made a small scrape each time for each thing, and from the glint in her eyes, those that knew her knew she would keep going. She’d kept her voice low and soft, for Foxfire. She knew what waking up after a bang on the head felt like- very spinny.

Dawnfeather glanced at Beechaunt with a smile. “There’s always one good thing- it could be worse. And when it can’t, well, it can only get better!” What a beautiful thing words were, building others up like blossoming flowers. Hopefully this would encourage everyone.

Skyclan's deputy entered the scene and Cricketkit couldn't help but tilt his head back to stare up at the massive tom with wide eyes. The question that had felt from his maw quickly drifted away as he marveled at the fact that any cat could be so large. Cricketkit was far from the smallest kit in the nursery and he'd grown accustom to the size of the queens. Somehow Bloodstrike was as big as Beechface. Maybe even a little tabby like him could grow to be as big as an oak someday, he wondered...

The warmth of the queen surrounded him and he dipped his head underneath the rasp of her tongue. Eyes squinted slightly as his little forehead crinkled at the sensation. Being as tall as an oak would be nice maybe but he could think about that later. Foxfire, the dead cat, needed to know their names. He'd be the first to share of course. Sticking his head up from the soft fur of Sapphire, "I'm Cricketkit! I'm glad you're finally awake. Sleeping for long seems boring unless you have cool dreams. Did you have cool dreams, dead cat?"

Excitement had crept into his voice but it was swiftly dashed away as the medicine cat spoke up. Keeping kits out of the way? There was a soft protest that fell from his tongue, "I can help too." It was a much gentler than before and his head ducked slightly in embarrassment. Cricketkit just wanted to be a part of things somehow.