missed me, missed me (all windclan - flurrypaw's death)

it was the twisted, agonizing wail of blackwolf that shattered the tepid evening air. swiftfoot's ears flattened back against the nape of her skull, neck fur fluffed up as the heartbroken sibling collapsed before the torn form of her kin, the blubbering mess escaping her lips so tangled that swiftfoot could hardly comprehend. from crevices and corners of the camp did others emerge; dewpaw and sandstrike approached, firestorm next, her apprentice timberpaw following closely behind.

their garbled mess of words blurred and knotted within swiftfoot's ears; they spoke, the mess of cats surrounding her, voices charged with grief and confusion and pure, choking emotion. swiftfoot herself barely knew what to say. her tongue fell limp within her jaws, awkward offers of comfort lost within her mind. she'd never been much of the comforting sort anyway, she reflected; no, there was nothing she could do, and the realization settled like the heavy weight of a stone upon her chest.

the windclan deputy had never cared much for the medicine cats. but silently, as her eyes trailed the twisted, broken form of the once spirited being, swiftfoot vowed to herself that justice would be sought, revenge taken, an eye for an eye. as redstar herself voiced that single, important promise, swiftfoot nodded in her eager agreement. now this was her forte. this was what she could help with.

redstAR PASSED BY, Tail flicking in the silent command to follow, and obediently swiftfoot slipped away from the depths of the garbled scene, silently glad to have been freed from the raw situation. "that's another fox sighting," she murmured, more to herself than the superior she matched pace with; "but for it to kill like that..." Her lips curled back in a distasteful grimace, tail lashing at the thought. "we have to get rid of it. drive it off windclan territory. who's to say what it could do next?"

The clan came slowly, but when they came, he heard about it. In many cases, he almost enjoyed those moments, where the clan realised what had happened, when they accepted his word and his act without question. Yet in this case, there was less of that feeling. The longer he lay there, his nose in the apprentice’s fur, the less the act really felt… necessary. As much as he liked to think he made the choice on her death, Beetleberry was fully aware of his incapability to fight. He couldn’t have saved her if he’d tried. Was that a sign of his own failings? That was one thing that the medicine cat would be left to ponder on.

It did surprise him, however, when Swiftfoot came to his side, without snark or additional comment. Beetleberry forced a sob as he looked toward the deputy. "What happened?" He only held the gaze for a moment, before looking back to the bloody, torn pelt of the apprentice. For just a moment, is chest tightened. “F-fox, we…” He didn’t get much further before Blackwolf arrived. “Get away from her!” The force of it made the medicine cat take a step back, snapping himself upright a little, as the barrage of insults flew.

“i said get away from her, you—you useless, filthy, good-for-nothing piece of crowfood! you pathetic excuse for a medicine cat! why didn’t you protect her?! how could you let this happen?! she didn’t deserve this! she’s.. she’s..”

Somewhere, in all of that, something hit home. He wasn’t sure what part of the she-cat’s words it was, but it spiked in his chest, and forced a lump into his throat, as his head snapped down toward the ground. Beetleberry should have been angry. He should have been any at such words from a pathetic young warrior, who had thrown herself at the apprentice’s body. But, he couldn’t find it in himself to. Somewhere, she was right. Well, did she deserve it? He could reason till the cows came home. But, maybe that was the issue. The medicine cat slid back down onto his belly, the deflated, tired look that settled over him real, peeking through gaps of the cracking façade, and maybe, maybe some of the grief was just as true. Flurrypaw had been… special.

Redstar, Dewpaw and Firestorm appeared. Beetleberry barely noticed. His gaze was stuck to the apprentice’s body, as Blackwolf lay there, sobbing. "You did what you could. Even if you had an escort this still could have happened." The older tom’s quiet words jolted him from whatever silent thought he’d found himself locked in. He turned his head, green gaze landing on the warrior. Beetleberry’s heart lurched unpleasantly. "I know you have your own pain to deal with, but Flurrypaw's kin might need something for the shock, and there's probably the need for burial herbs..." Right. For a moment, the black tom looked toward Blackwolf, Dewpaw, and their gathering companions, before slowly, he pulled himself to his paws.

He would take the distraction and time to control himself without argument, mutely bobbing his head as Firestorm redirected himself. Beetleberry swallowed again. Okay, yes, he needed his den, before he fell too much into the emotion that was building in the camp, especially as Mallowpaw arrived. He moved toward his den, for once tuning out the rest of the clan as they arrived, piling into the clearing with their grief and their horror. It was my choice, she deserved it. She betrayed me. But did she? My choice. She deserved it. Did anyone deserve to be killed that way by a fox? He went to the herbs without a thought toward his experiments or taking advantage of the time.

Immediately, he found the poppy seed, and glancing around the den, his gaze found the diminishing pile of thyme. The tom’s chest tightened again. My choice. He found a beech leaf, and carefully collected the seeds on it, before grabbing off the last few leaves of thyme. He lifted the bundle, green eyes scanning the den, as he took a deep breath. Okay. Above all else, when it came to it, he was a medicine cat. Despite the confusion of his own emotions, he had a duty, and that was to care for and lead by example for his clan mates. He needed to care for their nerves, first. He would deal with the rest later. The medicine cat stepped from the den, and moved back toward the group.

Beetleberry stepped up next to Timberpaw, offering the tom a gentle look, before sitting the beech leaf down, and nudging one of the thyme leaves and a few of the poppy seeds to him, before shuffling toward Blackwolf, Mallowpaw and Dewpaw. He took up place next to Dewpaw, the least likely to get aggressive at him for the moment. “Can you make sure they eat these? There’s some for yourself if you need them.” his words were quiet, as he stepped back from the group, his gaze moving toward Redstar and Swiftfoot. No doubt, they were discussing the fox situation. He’d make up his story for it when someone asked him again. The tom turned back toward his den. His gaze briefly flicked to the other gathering members of the clan. Rabbitear, Acorncloud, Sandstrike, Squirrelsong, Rowanfrost. His gaze focused ahead again as he disappeared into the den, scanning it once more.

Burial herbs. He’d focus on that until he was needed again.