leave in silence [C]

How many days had passed since the Gathering, Webshadow wasn't entirely sure. Patches of his memory were foggy, or missing altogether; there was just a streak of ginger fur, and a bolt of pain strong enough to force his legs to buckle under him. Frostgaze's warmth at his side, and the intermingling scents of fresh death and stale, mud-soaked rot. Flashes of the marsh flickered behind his eyes, and now he was here, stretched out in Basilbloom's den. Half the den was obscured to him, only empty space where he should have been able to see the fringe's of the medicine cats herb stores. A sick, nagging thought told him his eye had been missing; but there was no way that that could be true. The fox-pelted molly had only struck his cheek and caught a particularly sore spot. It was more likely that whatever binds Basilbloom had affixed to him were simply obscuring his vision. But if someone has told me, I would not really remember. Webshadow snorted. This was the most conscious he'd been since the Gathering.

The pain had faded, at least– it felt less like thunder had exploded directly within his skull, and only like a badger had fixed its massive claws into the entire left side of his face. The dark tabby tried to sit up, and hissed when the metaphorical badger tightened its grip. With a grunt, he collapsed, tail flicking with agitation.

Moving made his head spin, but he was present enough to socialize for the first time in what felt like moons. He had to know what had happened the rest of that night. "Basilbloom, are you in the den? I cannot tell." He cringed, the pain deepening into a sear in protest to the way his jaw worked, but he pressed on, voice tightening, "I am awake now, though, and I would like your presence."