[Rose]

Fallenpaw
Post Count: 51/100

Fallenpaw felt immensely drowsy. It was a new sensation, one that the dark-furred apprentice had not had the pleasure of witnessing before. The world swam around her, and she could barely take a step out of the apprentice's den. In fact, that single step she took in hopes of finding some sort of salvation resulted in her staggering sideways and crashing into another cat who she was too tired to acknowledge. Every single breath that the young she-cat took was labored, and Fallenpaw vaguely recalled her brother's words from not even a few nights ago.

'Everything is going to be alright.' He'd told her, as well as; 'We’ll figure this out.'

Breathing hard, Fallenpaw bent over to spit on the ground as another pang of hunger wrenched her belly. Now, those affectionate brotherly words, that sad night, felt like it had occurred so many lifetimes ago. She wished she could apologize. She wished she could live. She wished she wouldn't have to leave her litter-brother and her five younger siblings so soon after the death of their mother. She wished...

Fallenpaw wished many things. But she also knew the hard truth. That she was dying, that she was only living on borrowed time. Skittering away from the cat she'd practically barreled into due to her fatigue, Fallenpaw weakly lifted her head. Her heart beat at a sluggishly slow pace, as if promising to go out the second she stopped moving to shut her eyes. No, she had told her dear brother, Darkpaw, that she would fight. And yet here she was, stumbling around like a newborn kit. The she-cat's vision started blurring at the corners, and the young apprentice began vigorously shaking her head.

"Help?" She called, voice probably even more frail than an elders. Why had she stuck her nose in the air and refused to ask the medicine cats for help this past moon? Why, oh why?

But Fallenpaw knew full well why. She had assumed her brother and mother would think of it as a weakness if she went to ask the medics for help. That they would look down upon her for seeking help. And yet, her brother had done entirely the opposite. He had expressed his concern, had tearfully told her that she would be okay. That was a lie. They both had known what a big lie that had been. Fallenpaw wasn't ready to gamble with life. But now, look where she was stuck. Half starved, a living corpse, and a feline with a hitch in her heart.

She knew she should continue to fight for her life, but all Fallenpaw wanted to do was lie down. So that was what she did. Fallenpaw lied down. And then, because her eyes wouldn't stay open, she closed them, heart skittering unconvincingly in her chest.

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Larkpaw
Post Count: 18/100
(Open )

Larkpaw had been milling about, looking for ways to help those sick or starving. She didn't have much to offer, besides comfort if that counted. She herself had thankfully not taken the brunt of the impact, but not because she'd been eating prey and disregarding everyone else's needs. Larkpaw had not been feeling lethargic because she was used to surviving for long periods of time without food. Survival was built into her instinct. Sure, beetles weren't the best thing to eat, but for her slim frame, they were enough to last a good while.

So when someone practically barrelled into her side, Larkpaw glanced over with startlement at the face of her denmate. For a few moments she merely thought it had been a mistake, and that Fallenpaw had merely lost her footing. But then a weak cry for help was croaked out from Fallenpaw, and a double take of the other she-cat made Lark reconsider her earlier assessment. Fallenpaw seemed to be stumbling with fatigue, and Lark had barely taken a step in the other mollies direction when Fallenpaw curled up right there on the floor, in the midst of the clearing.

Eyes widening with utter bewilderment, Larkpaw raced over and skidded to a stop at the sprawled out she-cat's side, falling into a crouch. "Fallenpaw!" She yipped, gently nudging the other apprentice as she bent to check her heartbeat. The black and white she-cat laying opposite her lifted her head to whisper something hoarsely, and then fell silent once and for all.

"Fallenpaw..?" Lark asked quietly, in hopes of awakening her denmate, but sat back after a moment. Understanding dawned, and Lark found herself entirely unable to say anything. Fallenpaw was dead, her heart had stopped beating. Larkpaw was astounded by the truth of it. It was eye-opening. Watching someone bleed to death was one thing, and Lark was used to that. But peaceful, quiet death? That was a whole other thing.

Swallowing, Lark turned her face towards the nearest warrior. "Help me." She said, words commanding despite her young age and underlying rank. Literally, she needed anyone to help with this. Amber eyes flicked around the ShadowClan clearing.

A small bout of regret slithered its way into the recesses of Larkpaw's mind. She didn't feel sad for this apprentice. She didn't mourn the loss of Fallenpaw, and that was what caused Lark the most guilt. The regret sprouted from all the times she'd seen Fallenpaw and chosen not to interact. Chosen not to get to know her better. Shaking these unpleasant thoughts from her mind, Larkpaw refocused her gaze on anyone who would help her. "Help me, she's gone." Was all the young, grey-furred apprentice could manage.