shudder (c)

Everything was wrong.

Something cold and quick and shaking curled within Dawnfeather’s chest, freezing panic flooding through her veins though the danger was long gone. Gone. Every face she glanced at seemed unfamiliar for a moment before recognition kicked in, momentarily surrounded by strangers in a foreign Clan. She didn’t know where- where Foxtrot had gone- no, no, she’d told him to help his uncle in the medicine den. Right. Or- no, no, she’d told him to comfort the poor stricken apprentices. Had she? Or had- not Wolfstar, different pelt different scent different cat Wolfblossom.

Everything would be fine.

Muttering something about needing to sleep, she trailed into the warrior den and curled up next to Olive’s nest, heart pounding. Beechaunt was okay, she repeated to herself, forcing her fur to lie flat and taking slow, deep breaths. No-one was seriously hurt. Everything was fine. She hadn’t even- had she gotten hit? Everything was a blur, but once she slept, everything would be fine.

Everything would be fine.

The clan arriving home from the gathering with the scent of burnt flesh, fear and an absolutely frazzled mess had been unsettling, to say the least. The idea that lightning had struck the gathering cats made Beechfang's stomach twist, and so she had offered to help the medicine cats with whatever was needed. Not everyone was injured, of course, but being so close to lightning... Beechfang had struggled with her own injuries for moons after, she couldn't iamgine being near so much carnage was pleasant to anyone else. She was glad not to have gone to the gathering at all.

Dawnfeather hadn't been injured, not physically, at least. But she had watched the she-cat slink into her nest with a mumble, and for a moment Beechfang simply watched. She was shaken, clearly, and it bothered the former medicine cat to see her niece in such a state. So she'd snagged a small amount of thyme and lavender from the medicine den, and slipped into the warrior's den after.

"Dawnfeather?" She murmured softly, sitting beside the golden warrior's nest. "Are you alright?" The answer to that question was an obvious 'no' but Beechfang hoped talking might help, even a little.

Beechaunt?

“Beechaunt?” Dawnfeather mumbled, raising her head from her nest and managing something along the lines of a smile. She was happy to see her, she really was! Her return had been one of the best moments in Dawnfeather’s life, really, but she’d always made the effort to smile every time she caught a glimpse of her aunt’s pelt, as if they’d been separated for moons. Familiarity should not beget hard-heartedness.

She tucked her trembling paws underneath her, leaning into the grey tabby with a faltering sigh. Already she felt a little better. “Are you okay?”

Dawnfeather smiled, but it didn't hide the way her paws trembled, or how clearly shaken she was. Beechfang pressed back against her for a moment, a small attempt at reassurance. "I'm alright." She promised - lied, she wasn't about to let on how the apparent solving of Dovefrost and their fallen clanmates' murders had shaken her, nor how the scent of burnt flesh and the distant lightning had made her skin crawl, "So are the apprentices, they're with Smokepetal. They'll heal."

"Chew on the thyme, it'll help." Beechfang gently nudged the bit of plant toward Dawnfeather. It wasn't poppy seed to knock a cat out, but it would help take the edge off of whatever was bothering her. The scent of the lavender would also help, she hoped. It was on the tip of her tongue to say something, but Beechfang wasn't sure what she could say.