enter stage left; injured [OPEN]

Drizzlepaw limped back into camp only a few minutes after the rest of her patrol returned. The metallic scent of blood hung around her, thick and heavy in the evening air. She grit her teeth against the stabbing pain in her right leg, one that probably wasn’t helped by the fact that she’d had to walk all the way back to camp- just a few minutes behind her patrol, if the wind had been in the right direction they would’ve noticed-

The ginger-and-cream molly silently started toward the medicine den, stubbornly blinking away the tears in her eyes. Her wounds weren’t that bad. She’d seen worse. She’d go see Sandyshell, and maybe spend the night in her den, and then they’d never have to mention this ever again.

Perchstar had hoped that, with the relative peace over the forest, and the predators still slumbering in their dens, she would no longer have to dread the scent of blood on returning patrols. However, after Drizzlepaw did not return at the same time as the rest of her patrol, the leader began to pace anxiously in camp. The warrior in charge had been berated for not keeping track of the young apprentice. Though Drizzlepaw was as capable as any other, she had no voice with which to call that she was lost, so it was the warrior's duty to watch over her. If she didn't return soon, then they would have to go look for her, and hope that nothing bad had befallen her when she was so lost.

Thankfully, soon enough, the wispy pelt of Drizzlepaw appeared crossing the shallow river encircling camp. Feeling a mixture of relief and frustration, Perchstar began to walk towards the she-cat to tell her to be more careful--then stopped. Blood. The acute, thick scent hit her nose just moments before she realized the claw marks all over the young she-cat's body. Despite the injuries not being anywhere near as bad, the leader was instantly reminded of Poppyshine returning from the ThunderClan border. Cautiously, Perchstar walked closer, noticing how strong the smell of WindClan rose from Drizzlepaw's pelt. Any censuring about getting lost from one's patrol could wait. "Sandyshell, I need you," the leader called sharply. Then she turned to the apprentice. She couldn't ask much more than yes or no questions, and Drizzlepaw looked shaken, ready to rest. But this was important. If the Clan that was on the entire forest's wrong side had done this to an apprentice of RiverClan without so much as a reason, then there would be the Dark Forest to pay. "Drizzlepaw. Did WindClan do this to you? Did you cross the border?" Though her heart was beating quickly, she asked the questions slowly and calmly, trying to allow enough time for the mute apprentice to respond properly.

Lavenderkit had happily waved Drizzlepaw off on her patrol to the gorge earlier that day. He would have liked to join her, sure, and he would miss her around camp but that had been all. More than that, he was happy for his friend. He tried not to just sit and wait for her. But the way time dragged all day was nothing compared to the minutes after Drizzlepaw's patrol returned and she was not with them.

His worry grew as the moments passed and Perchstar began to pace. Finally, the leader seemed to sight her, and soon enough Drizzlepaw's scent carried into camp... along with the scent of WindClan and blood. No one would believe Lavenderkit had any difficulty with movement as he shot in a blur across the clearing to his friend's side.

"It's okay," he said softly and reassuringly. Thankfully, even though the injuries deeply upset Lavenderkit, the cuts didn't seem too bad as he sniffed over where Drizzlepaw bled. "Put pressure on, like this." He pressed a paw to the worst of the wounds. He had experience with cuts and scrapes all his life with his difficultly moving himself around. Pressing on the wound with her paw would stop the bleeding until Sandyshell came, and give Drizzlepaw something to focus on which would hopefully help calm her down. He pressed against his friend's side for support, as much physical for her injured leg as emotional care. He waited anxiously after Perchstar's questions for a nod or shake of the head.

Perchstar- Perchstar’s voice rang out across camp, and Drizzlepaw froze in her tracks. Oh, she was in so much trouble- she knew she should’ve paid closer attention to sticking with her patrol. Blinking the tears from her eyes, the ginger-and-cream molly let her gaze wander to her leader’s paws, ears flat against her head. Thankfully, Lavenderkit’s comforting voice met her ears before Drizzlepaw could completely lose her composure in front of her leader- she leaned slightly against him, sniffling quietly. She needed to answer Perchstar’s questions.

Drizzlepaw slowly forced herself to meet Perchstar’s blue gaze. Yes, she thought, with a small nod, it was a stupid stupid dirty WindClanner.

She shook her head quickly at the second question. She’d always been a careful rule-follower, even as a kit, and she’d never wander over the scent markers. That would make the fight her fault- and it certainly wasn’t her fault! It was all that dirty WindClanner. Ugh. Her wounds stung, even though she was no longer really bleeding, but the crimson was matted into the fur on her face and right leg, and her paws were trembling slightly from pain and strain.

She couldn’t believe this was happening.

Perchstar tried not to let her tail twitch anxiously, hoping that Sandyshell would be able to disentangle herself from the medicine den soon. In the meantime, Lavenderkit seemed to have learned the basics--though thankfully Drizzlepaw's wounds were not dire, his actions did staunch the blood flow somewhat.

Drizzlepaw's answers were both relieving and stressful. Yes... and no. Someone from WindClan--somecat, though it would be difficult to get details on exactly who--had attacked her. And since Drizzlepaw had not crossed the border and could not speak, it could not possibly have been provoked. And even if it had been, it would not have been justified. Perchstar felt the heat that had begun to race through her veins grow even warmer. She had thought that despite Shrikestar's inability to control his Clanmates, their year's worth of neutrality would at least hold strong. She'd had no intention of retaliating in any way for Batsong's Gathering foolishness. But this... this was another matter entirely.

Shellwater's voice quietly raged in the back of her mind. "I give you this life for justice. Use it to fight back against all who would try to take advantage of you. Use it to avenge the fallen. Use it to show the forest that if they mess with one apprentice, they mess with all of RiverClan."

If WindClan was confused about where the border lay... then RiverClan would just have to remind them.

There was obviously no point in speaking with Shrikestar about this. Not only had the past two times she'd confronted leaders about their warriors' wrongdoings gone poorly, with Stoatstar doing nothing and Bloodstrike attacking her full-on, but the WindClan leader had already proven himself to be incapable of reason. No other such cat would have allowed the travesty at Fourtrees to happen as it did. The hot blood running through Perchstar was slowly replaced with cold resolve. "I see," she said finally, managing to keep her voice steady. "Drizzlepaw, I am sure I do not have to remind you, but in the future, please remain with your patrol. I believe that these wounds have been punishment enough. Please go to the medicine den; Sandyshell will see to you there." Her stare turned hard, though it was not directed at the apprentice. It was directed into the territory... towards the direction of the moors. "I won't let them get away with this. It seems that WindClan has forgotten that RiverClan is not to be so lightly meddled with." She would have to speak with Poppyshine about this. But Perchstar was done with failed diplomacy. If whoever had crossed the border assumed their actions would go unnoticed, then they had another thing coming.