sinking [open death topic]

ooc: follows this topic

Feral Tongue
Forest Tongue

The stench of both fox and ThunderClan held heavy on Littlewolf's body that draped lifelessly across his shoulders, her warm blood at least keeping the chill of leafbare off his bones as it trickled from the wounds left by the fox they had managed to drive off together, her claws still holding onto her assailants russet fur. "Acornstem." His deep voice rang out as he pushed through the brambles that made up the camps entrance, his eyes scanning for that fluffy brown tail. Only half of the four cat hunting patrol had returned, the other two unaware of the events that had just transpired: a fox had sunk it's teeth into a freshly named ThunderClan warrior. Littlewolf had fought bravely and he would not allow anyone to say otherwise. Young and inexperienced? Certainly. But she had been brave in the face of her demise. Perhaps part of her death was his fault for not reaching her in time, the russet pelt of a chittering fox blurred in his mind as he recalled the way it had lunged forward and bit into her neck with ease.

He bent down to allow the warrior to slide gently from his shoulders and onto the cold earth. "We encountered a fox on our patrol. Littlewolf fought bravely but... I am sorry. I wasn't fast enough to keep her from its jaws." Genuine sadness had his face scrunched, brown eyes cast downwards at his paws. Perhaps he was the weak one out of the two of them; he was the strongest of either of them on that patrol, and yet he hadn't been able to save her.

Acornstem was curled up in the leader's den, gaze unfocused as she stared at the far wall. This was how she spent most of her days since she had gained the burden of leadership. Sometimes she allowed slumber to take her, but it was often marred with nightmares. Her clanmates drowning in red - unable to stop the danger. Unable to save them. My fault, it was always my fault. The blood would sweep over her, choking her as she begged for aid but none came - she was leader, it all fell onto her and it was all her fault. ...She had taken to not sleeping if she could help it after the nightmares refused to cease. And so she laid, exhausted but fighting off the urge to allow her eyes to close - almost thankful for a heartbeat as Vinecrawler's voice shattered the heavy silence...Until she turned her head and caught the sickening smell that had haunted her blood-soaked nightmares having found its way into the waking world.

In an instance, she was on her paws and out the den, starting to circle around the Tallrock but she came to a stop the moment the sight came into view. Littlewolf was sprawled across his back, drowning in the same blood that haunted her dreams. She wasn't moving. Not again. Slowly she crept from the shadow of the Tallrock but her worse fears were confirmed as Vinecrawler slide Littlewolf's body from his back and spoke. A fox. A predator. Again. Again, again, again. She blinked - she could see Cedarstalk in her place, bleeding out in front of her, a fox so cruelly ripping away her first apprentice, her adopted son even if she only admitted it to him in his final moments. Another blink and it was the barely recognizable body of Flysnap who had been torn apart by dogs - her second apprentice, her hope to make things better. Blink - and it was the cruel reality in front of her. Her third apprentice, Littlewolf...

"I-" her voice was caught in her throat as she stood there, her eyes wide and she couldn't breath. She tried to speak, to take in air but her lungs wouldn't comply. Tears started to run down her face as her whole body shook. Again. It was her fault, again. It had to be for this to play out again. She was a cursed mentor, what joy would there be in giving Nettlepaw or Hopepaw their names when the same terrible fate to be torn apart by beasts awaited them? Finally, she barely managed to get words out. "T-The fox. Is it...Still out there?" she questioned, claws digging into the ground. Her fault - she had been trying to keep the territory checked for predators but the war with SkyClan had pulled her attention and the aftermath... She... She couldn't let it stay in the territory.

Sageroot listened, shocked, as the story played out. “Acornstem,” she mewed. “If the fox is still out there, I’m willing to set up a patrol to hunt it down if you wish.” To Vinecrawler, she added, in his tongue, ”This is not your fault.”

At Vinecrawler's sudden loud voice, Silverdusk was already appearing in the clearing. Immediately the stench of blood his their nostrils and panic seized them. No, no, no, no! Gekala, please let him be okay. The tom came into view and her prayers were answered - he was okay! But then he stepped back, and Littlewolf's body came into view. Her heart stopped, and then restarted. Another death... Would ThunderClan ever recover? Cautiously, they joined Acornstem and Sageroot. A shot of pity ran through them for Acornstem, Littlewolf was her apprentice, she'd lost so much recently... She hated feeling pity, but they couldn't help from feeling for the russet leader. "I will join the patrol." stated Silverdusk "I have noticed an increase of predators personally. I would like to help deal with them." She blinked as Sageroot spoke in the feral language, unaware the deputy knew it. For a moment they felt compelled to say something to Vinecrawler in his language too, but words failed them and she closed her mouth. Being on that patrol, like the patrol that had gone to war was all she could manage.