i'll be the light to guide you [p]

**ophelia** · #1 August 3rd, 2024, 08:40 PM

[ @Estelle @iliri - posting order ]
TW - fear of death, blood, injury

AUTUMN

She was sad to leave Kestrel behind, that was true. Or, she supposed she should call him Copperpaw now. But there was also an immense weight off her shoulders knowing that her son was in Thunderclan's paws now. He would have Starclan and the fully fledged warriors to guide him. Autumn loved him, and she knew Pax did too, but they were much too young to be the parents he needed. Besides, Autumn was still an apprentice when she left the clan, and Pax was still adjusting to providing for a family of two. It would be better this way.

The patched tabby she-cat hummed to herself as she trotted through the unmarked woods, thinking of Bumblestar's words. Springlight, carried off by an owl. It was awful, really. They had just reconnected, and it seemed impossible to Autumn that her sister could be dead. Perhaps the reality hadn't sunk in yet. Autumn was expecting sorrow and grief, but instead she felt a sort of numbness, punctuated by waves of dread. It was almost worse.

She tried to bring up memories of her eldest littermate. Autumn didn't actually remember which of them was born first, but Springlight had always been the caretaker. Summer was the goofy one, Winter the grumpy one, and herself the feisty one. Springlight had always been there to get her out of trouble. Although Autumn didn't find herself in much trouble these days, it had always been a comfort to think that Springlight was just a day's travel away if need be.

All this recollection was bringing to life images of her sister in her mind so clearly Autumn swore she could smell the familiar she-cat. She raised her muzzle to the wind, inhaling fondly...wait. Her blue eyes shot open in surprise. Wait. That wasn't her imagination. There was definitely a Thunderclan scent on the breeze. Besides herself, Autumn didn't know of any other former Thunderclanners that would be this far into the outskirts.

Quickening her pace, Autumn made a sharp left, nearly losing her balance without the guidance of a full length tail. Ignoring the stumble she raced through the trees, following the track. It grew stronger and stronger until other scents began to mingle with the clan marking. Herbs...dirt...bird...blood.

"Springlight!!" Autumn shrieked, "Springlight!" Her blue eyes scanned the foliage in frantic search for her sister. Instead, she spotted a dark spot in the grass. She crouched to sniff and immediately winced at the acrid poignancy. Oh no. She was a pretty brave kitty, but she didn't know if she could stomach finding her own littermate dead.

A wheezing sound was heard. "Springlight?" she said again, this time in a whisper as she rounded the leafy shrub. There she lay, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Autumn gasped softly, stepping gingerly around her sister to examine her properly. Bumblestar had certainly been right about the owl. Feathers were strewn chaotically around and on top of Spring's pelt, and the scent of raptor was strong. Spring's eyes were closed, but Autumn could tell she wasn't just sleeping. The owl must've dragged her all the way out here before the finally got away. At least this bush had provided some shelter, otherwise who knew what predator could've gotten to her. Knowing Springlight, she'd probably done that on purpose. Even on death's doorstep Autumn could imagine her sister making a sensible decision like that.

And now it was time for Autumn to make a sensible decision of her own. What was she going to do? She began lapping gently at her sister's wounds, trying to clean out some of the blood and dirt. Autumn was no medicine cat, but she could tell this was bad, The gashes were deep, and her breathing was irregular. Thunderclan was hours away, there was no way Autumn could drag her that far, if Spring could even make the journey. So the only option was onward. Spring would get to see her new home after all. Assuming she woke up.

"Stop that," Autumn scolded herself bluntly, shaking her head. This was a lot. Heart pounding heavily, she craned her neck to take Spring by the scruff gingerly, heaving until the other she-cat's mass was distributed across her shoulder. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but this way she could travel without Spring's injuries scraping the ground. And so they went off, the trip considerably slower than anticipated and with one extra molly in tow.

...a couple hours later

Home. They were home. Autumn crossed the border of Pax's territory, inhaling he familiar scent. She stumbled towards their den, stopping just outside the entrance. It was an old monster trailer, left in the middle of the forest clearing, perhaps on some whimsical camping trip years ago. The metal box itself was locked tightly, but a large rock leaned up against one side provided a narrow entryway into the shallow tunnel Pax had dug beneath the trailer. The territory stretched from the tree-line backing the trailer to the other side of the clearing where the overpass of a quiet monster path began.

Panting with exertion, Autumn carefully lowered her sister just outside the entrance, positioning her on her side. Raising her muzzle, she called out. "PAX!" she yowled, assuming her mate was either in the den or nearby. "I NEED WATER AND COBWEBS!" she ordered, the volume of her voice more instructional than crazed. Springlight was still breathing, but also still unresponsive. Autumn knew little about healing, but she remembered how to use cobwebs for cuts and it was common sense that water was crucial.

( sorry guys this is crazy long, just wanted to set up some context and exposition. by no means do y'all need to match this, my posts will probably shrink after this one )

**Estelle** · #2 August 13th, 2024, 08:47 PM

A hurried voice rose Pax from his afternoon nap, the black tabby's orange eyes flying open as startled, groggily hurrying towards whom he recognised as his mate, a certain air of defensiveness hanging around him.
"YOOOoooo, what the hell---"
His voice cut off when he was met by a body rather than intruders as he had expected, stifling a quick gasp, fumbling with suddenly disoriented paws. His tail lashed and he awkward rushed past, joining Autumn's side for a brief moment as he fumbled with words, looking around.

"Ahhh what does that look like again? The sticky stuff? A-actually, don't answer that. I'll get water... And sticky stuff. Right? Right. Should be there."
The tom blabbered out, a little taken aback yet moving to heed his mate's call and gather together a soaked piece of moss he had ripped from their nest and some cobwebs quickly wrapped around his tail found within a corner of the trailer, which her brought to Autumn's side.
"You know how to use this stuff?"

[ @ophelia @iliri ]

**iliri** · #3 Today, 07:30 PM

[cw: mentions of gruesome injuries & other sensitive topics]

It had been moons since she had felt this kind of pain. The only last time she had felt something like this was when she had only been an apprentice, having been learning the ways of a medicine cat under her mentor’s guidance. The day she had nearly been killed in cold blood by Shadefrost was nothing more than an unbearable memory she wished she’d forget. The day when she had been bleeding out on the cold, leaffall floor, her ears ringing from the loud cries of her mother and other cats that pushed forward to assist her. Just thinking about that day made her come to terms that the nearly same thing happened to her; she narrowly avoided death, again. Just how lucky did she have to be to come to terms with death again—to dodge its icy daggers and keep herself going? That was a question for another day, for now? She was down here, breathing, trying to keep herself upright so she didn't succumb to the darkness dancing around her vision. Agony rippled through Springlight, wrenching her back from the brink of unconsciousness every time it danced around her mind like a teasing puppet. Each breath felt like it was tearing her apart from the inside out, her body a canvas of searing pain. She wouldn’t be surprised if she withstood internal bleeding from the incident, or some minor internal bruising. The thought hadn't mattered now, and it never will at the moment.

She lay motionless against the cold earth, the summer heat clinging to the air, thick and stifling. It was suffocating and awful, her mind drifting in and out of a haze of pain. Her memory was fuzzy, distracted by the world of hurt crashing down on her. Her left ear twitched slightly, the movement sending sharp stabs of pain through her skull, and she had to force herself to remain still. The searing pain that radiated from her torn ear was just one of many agonies she now bore—a new addition to the map of scars that had come to define her life. It was difficult to focus on anything beyond the immediate torment, but she tried, desperate to hold on to her sense of self in the face of such overwhelming suffering. A part of her wanted to scorn herself for not being able to defeat the owl. Or, actually, she should actually be yelling at herself for thinking it was a good idea to go out at night to collect herbs. She knew the dangers, so why did she commit herself to do such a thing? Could it have been for the fact that cats nowadays were nothing but ridiculously lazy and didn't bother to do a single thing right? Probably. Failure was always something she hated—in both herself and in others. Ever since she obtained the rank of a medicine cat, she worked hard to make sure she didn't fail. Bumblestar saw potential in her and Drizzlecloud, and she hadn't wanted to waste that. Her heart thumped aggressively against her ribcage, the pain making her mindset go loose as the right side of her face began to unconditionally ache. It was probably the most agonizing out of all of the injuries she sustained.

A deep, jagged gash cut through her eyelid and brow, rendering the eye useless and leaving her with a perpetual squint. The skin around the scar was taut and uneven, the fur sparse and thin, barely covering the rough, puckered flesh beneath. The wound throbbed incessantly, a constant reminder of the owl’s savage attack. Even the old scars that crisscrossed her face, the ones left by Shadefrost during ShadowClan’s raid on Sunkissed Creek, seemed to shrink in significance next to this fresh, brutal injury. Those old wounds had healed into thin, silvery lines, barely noticeable now, but this new scar was angry and red, a vicious gash that marred her once expressive features. The loss of sight in her right eye was disorienting, leaving her feeling off-balance and vulnerable in a way she hadn’t experienced before. The world seemed darker, and narrower, as though a vital piece of her perception had been ripped away along with her vision. Was this how Lostspark felt all the time with her lack of vision? For a split moment, the herbalist felt bad for the gray molly, almost sympathizing with her if not for a split second, before drowning in the agony again. Her muzzle was another source of agony. The owl’s claws had raked down the bridge of her nose and across her throat, leaving behind a web of thin, white scars that fanned out like the branches of a tree. The skin there was tight and uncomfortable, a stark contrast to the smooth, multicolored fur that had once covered it.

Every time she tried to move her head, the scars pulled and tugged at her skin, sending sharp twinges of pain through her jaw and neck. It was a cruel echo of the old injury that had left her throat permanently scarred and her voice strained and halting. The wound from Shadefrost’s assault had nearly killed her, and the scar it left behind was a constant reminder of that near-fatal encounter. Now, with these new wounds added to the mix, speaking was even more painful than before, the words catching in her throat as though blocked by the scars themselves. The old injuries seemed almost insignificant in comparison to the fresh damage inflicted by the owl, but they compounded the pain, turning every movement into an ordeal. Springlight’s left ear, once whole and unblemished, was now a ragged mess. The tip had been sliced clean off by the owl’s talons, leaving the edge jagged and uneven. The wound throbbed with every beat of her heart, the pain radiating outward in sickening waves. Her right ear, already a mangled ruin from the day Snallsky had nearly torn it off, was now the least of her concerns. The old injury had left her ear barely functional, a misshapen remnant of what it had once been. But even that pain, which had haunted her for so long, was overshadowed by the fresh agony in her left ear. It was as if the owl had sought to balance the damage, to ensure that both of her ears bore the marks of her suffering. The constant ache in her ears made it difficult to focus on anything else, the pain a relentless companion that dulled her senses and clouded her thoughts.

The rest of her body fared no better. Her shoulders and flanks were crisscrossed with long, furrowed scars, the flesh beneath torn and ragged. The owl’s claws had left deep gouges in her flesh, ripping away patches of fur that would never fully regrow. The exposed skin was a patchwork of scars and raw, inflamed tissue, a testament to the violence of the attack. Her once sleek, well-groomed fur was now a ragged mess, patchy and uneven where the owl’s talons had torn it away. The new scars were painful, but they also carried a deeper weight—a sense of finality, of irrevocable change. These weren’t the kinds of wounds that would fade with time; they would remain with her for the rest of her life, a permanent reminder of the battle she had fought and nearly lost. The old scars that marked her underbelly and legs, remnants of her battle with Shadefrost at Sunkissed Creek, were nothing compared to these new injuries. Those old wounds had healed into faint, silvery lines, barely visible against her fur. But the new scars were different—they were fresh, raw, and angry, a constant reminder of the owl’s attack. Even her right side, already marked by shallow scars from a brief skirmish with a RiverClan warrior, seemed to ache more now, as though the old injuries were flaring up in response to the fresh damage. The pain was a constant, gnawing presence, eating away at her resolve. But worse than the physical pain was the growing sense of despair that threatened to overwhelm her.

ThunderClan felt so far away, an impossible distance that she might never cross again. The thought sent a chill through her already battered body, a deep, bone-deep fear that she couldn’t shake. What if she never made it back? What if she was destined to die here, alone and forgotten, her body left to rot in the wilderness? The idea was almost too much to bear, but she forced herself to push it aside, to focus on something—anything—other than the pain and fear that threatened to consume her. In the midst of her suffering, her thoughts turned to ThunderClan, the clan that she had lived in ever since she was born. Bumblestar’s fierce, unyielding presence loomed large in her mind, a beacon of strength and determination. Springlight could almost hear her leader’s sharp voice, barking orders with that characteristic mix of anger and resolve. Bumblestar was a cat who didn’t take crap from anyone, who lashed out when she thought it necessary and who made decisions based on a complex mix of logic, emotion, and sheer stubbornness. Even if she never stated it, Springlight had always admired that about her, and had always wanted to be as strong and unwavering as her leader. It was why she never let her guard down in the first place while she served alongside her as her medic; her herbalist. Bumblestar grew to trust her, and she grew to trust her. But now, lying broken and bleeding, she felt like a failure. How could she ever face Bumblestar again, knowing that she had been so thoroughly defeated by an owl for star's sake? The thought made her chest ache, a dull, throbbing pain that was somehow worse than the physical wounds she had suffered.

She looked up to her more than a leader; like family. Bumbles was her family, and even more than that, like a parent. Springlight didn't know how the leader would react to her saying this, but that wasn’t what she wanted to think about in her current thought process at the moment. And then there was Wolfhive, Bumblestar’s son, who had always been more of a brother to Springlight than just another clanmate. His loyalty to ThunderClan was absolute, his dedication unmatched, and Springlight had always respected him for that. But Wolfhive could also be cold, distant, and unforgiving, a cat who held others to impossibly high standards—standards that Springlight had always tried to meet with her role as a medic. What would he think if he saw her now, lying helpless and broken, unable even to stand? Would he see her as a failure, as a cat who had fallen short of ThunderClan’s expectations? Or would he understand the pain and fear that consumed her, the desperation that clawed at her heart? Springlight didn’t know, and the uncertainty gnawed at her, adding to the weight of her despair. She cared about him more than he could probably understand, but anything would comfort her if she knew he understood how she felt. Wolf was everything to her, and she hoped he was doing well without her at the moment. Before she could even think about anything, another wave of agony coursed through her, her mind giving away to the unconsciousness that hung over her. She didn’t know what happened next, but her body felt light the moment her eyes drifted shut.

—

A loud yowl broke through her consciousness, dragging Springlight from the depths of a restless, painful sleep. Her eyelids fluttered, heavy and unwilling to open, as if they were weighed down by stones. Disoriented, she tried to make sense of her surroundings, but her mind was shrouded in a thick fog. The medicine den…? The thought was fleeting, a reflex born from moons of familiarity. But something was wrong. The soft moss and earthy scents of the ThunderClan medicine den were absent. Instead, the air was thick with summer heat, the ground beneath her rough and unforgiving. Every part of her body ached, and the pain in her right eye was a sharp, relentless throb. She struggled to recall what had happened. The owl—she remembered the attack vividly now. Its talons had slashed across her face, leaving her right eye blind and her eyelid permanently half-closed. The deep, jagged gash had torn through her fur, leaving the skin beneath raw and puckered. Her muzzle bore fresh scars as well, claw marks that traced down her throat in a web of agony. The owl had raked its talons through her left ear, leaving it ragged and torn, a mirror to the old wound on her right ear. Her shoulders and flanks bore new, long scars where the owl had gripped her, ripping away fur and leaving her with patches that would never fully grow back. Springlight winced as the memories came rushing back, the pain intensifying as if reliving the attack all over again. Her breath hitched, and she tried to open her eyes fully, but her right eye remained stubbornly shut, a reminder of the damage done.

Her vision was blurry, but she could make out the towering structure of the old monster trailer nearby. It loomed over her, casting a long shadow across the clearing where she lay. She wasn’t in ThunderClan territory. This place was unfamiliar, a cold knot of fear settling in her stomach as she realized just how far she was from home. She heard a familiar voice calling out for someone, it belonging to her sister, Autumn. The name Pax floated through the haze of her thoughts, but it meant little to her at this moment. The relief of hearing her sister’s voice was quickly overshadowed by the pain that flared through her body, a wildfire of agony that made her muscles tense and tremble. She tried to speak, to call out, but her throat was dry, her voice nothing more than a cracked, stuttering whisper. “A-Autumn…” The sound was so faint that it barely reached her own ears. Her throat, scarred and tender from a near-fatal encounter with Shadefrost, rebelled against the effort. She coughed weakly, her mouth parched from days without water, and the pain in her throat only intensified. Every breath was a struggle, every movement a torment. She tried to push herself up, to move, but her body refused to cooperate. The weight of her injuries kept her pinned to the ground, helpless and vulnerable. As she lay there, the world around her slowly came into focus. The monster trailer, the heat of the summer sun, the distant sounds of the forest—all of it felt surreal, like a dream she couldn’t wake up from. But this was no dream. This was her reality now. The pain was too real, too sharp, to be anything else. She heard Autumn’s voice again, more urgent now, calling for Pax to hurry with water and cobwebs. The concern in her sister’s tone made Springlight’s heart ache. She wanted to reassure her, to tell her she was okay, but the words wouldn’t come.

As she lay there, the faces of those she cared for began to drift through her mind, anchoring her to the present even as the pain threatened to pull her under. Bumblestar, with her fierce determination and the way she never let her emotions remain hidden; Wolfhive, whose loyalty and protective nature had always made her feel safe; Drizzlecloud, her former mentor, whose wisdom and guidance had shaped her into the cat she was—or had been before this nightmare; Dovefluff, the gentle, nurturing presence who had taken her in when no one else would, offering her a family when she had none; and then Orangeblossom, her heart twisting as she thought of him, the tom who had become more than just a friend, though she hadn’t yet found the courage to admit it to herself or to him. She could almost see Drizzlecloud’s calm, steady gaze, hear the soft, reassuring words that had once guided her through the darkest times. The older she-cat had been a rock for her, always knowing how to ease her doubts and fears. Dovefluff’s comforting scent, the warmth of her affection, filled Springlight with a deep ache of longing for the simple safety of home. And Orangeblossom—thinking of him brought a new kind of pain, one that had nothing to do with her wounds. It was a pang of regret, of unspoken feelings that might now never have the chance to be voiced. The reality of her situation settled in, cold and unyielding despite the summer heat. She wasn’t in ThunderClan anymore. She was far from the cats who meant everything to her, far from the life she had known. The realization sent a wave of panic through her, and she tried once more to rise, to call out for help, for Autumn, for anyone. But her body betrayed her, too weak and battered to obey. All she could do was lie there, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps, the world around her both familiar and utterly foreign. One day, she’ll find her way back home to ThunderClan. Just one day.

@ophelia @Estelle [ hi guys i hope you like angst ]