as low as the worms in the dirt [SOLO]

The dry field grass pricked his muddy paws as they thudded across the moor, pausing for nothing and no one as Grub frantically made his escape from the horrific scene he had just been a part of. Whether human, cat or beast, a body should never bend like that. Paired with the visual, the sounds of bone against bone just made it that much worse. He was incredibly sick.

The wind seemed to work against him as he pushed forward, lungs burning and begging for him to take a break. There were no thoughts in his head other than to run away before anyone else could look at him as coldly as that snow white child had--

THUD!

Lanky legs twisted underneath him as he stepped on a loose mound of dirt, earning him a hearty face full of earth as he came to a skidding halt. Mottled sides heaved as he fought to get back onto his paws and continue his dead sprint back to his isolated camp. Stopping here could be a death sentence and - as messed up as it was - the fact the little white she-cat had to bring her brother back home all by herself helped buy him time to get as far away from there as possible. A part of him felt a twinge of guilt for stupidly using a name that wasn't his. But it could be to his advantage now. Only a few cats knew what his name really was, and it was very unlikely a forest separated by territory would utter his name any time soon. He'd just have to lay low. Yea. Lay low. Just for a little bit.

Full sprint began to slow into a steady trot as Grubs thoughts began to reason with him that he wouldn't be in trouble for that long, conveniently skipping over the fact that those two River Clan cats had been children. Did he want any of them to die? No. He wasn't so messed up that he'd wish that sort of thing on anyone - he himself knew what death was. He felt sorrow for the fact that it had even happened, but it wasn't his fault.

It wasn't his fault.

A hesitant grin formed on the scraggly toms face, a desperate laugh leaving his tired lungs. Yea. He didn't do this. They shouldn't have been messing around in a place full large beasts like that! He laughed again. Clan territory? How often was it utilized if not even the children were educated that it could be a death trap if one wasn't too careful?

It wasn't his fault.

The little guy attacked him first. It wouldn't have even happened if the white tom hadn't acted to rash.

It wasn't his fault.

Whoever was supposed to teach these kids was bad at their job! Even Grub knew not get so close to the livestock.

It wasn't his fault.

As weary body dragged itself through the rocky mountain past the open moor and into the dreary abandoned camp, the smile had long faded from Grubs face.

"It wasn't my fault." It couldn't have been. He would never do something like that on purpose, so there was no way he could or SHOULD take the blame. Yellow eyes wandered about the camp lazily, lingering on a mouse that had decided to make the decorations he had stolen from the wind Clan flower fields it's snack. He wasn't mad about it, since they were wilting anyways. He wasn't hungry in the slightest, but he knew he would have to eat eventually.

In one fell swoop, the mouse was dispatched and set aside for later. Closing his eyes, Grub would have the worst sleep since Mr. Worm's passing.

The member 'Flybot' has done the following action : Dice roll

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'Hunting Dice' : 4