Backwritten Camp WindClan a heartbreak away from a horrible place ✿ — glade

[Meadowpaw]

She's a liar, a calm to the fire
Shamed when we all follow suit

.

Why?

Why did the flames have to take away their home? Why did it have to take Alder and Chicken and Hoot? Why did it have to take her leg? Why hadn't Mama come to visit since it happened?

Sometimes Meadow still expected to wake up back in the loft, warm hay beneath her and her Mama's slumbering form somewhere nearby, grumbling in her sleep. But the pain was real. The missing weight of her leg, the dull ache that radiated through her body—was too real to be a dream.

Nutmeg visited often, but it didn't change how quiet everything had become. She remembered how full of life the barn had been, laughter and chatter—she even missed the arguments and the clucking of chickens. The den was silent more often than not, and though she tried to sleep or keep her mind busy, it never lasted long. An empty longing crept in between breaths, slipping into her thoughts and dreams.

Mama hadn't come to see her. Not once. Not even to scold her for running off and getting herself hurt. She was so… confused… and scared. Meadow wanted to know why but at the same time she worried what that meant. Did Mama not love her anymore?

Their new… home… it didn't feel the same. They all had to adapt to new names, new roles and a new way of living. It felt like she was being left behind—like everyone else had taken a step forward while she was still trying to crawl. She exhaled shakily, trying to steady herself.

Her gaze drifted to the entrance of the den, light filtering through the edges of the leaves. She couldn't lie in this nest anymore.

With a grunt, Meadow dragged herself upright. Her movements were stiff, bandages tight against her skin, wounds crackling, and every shift sent flickers of discomfort through her body. She grimaced, bearing weight on her remaining legs. The swelling was down, but it still hurt to move.

The process was slow, but it gave her something to focus on. She clenches her jaw in deep focus. It shouldn't be so hard, should it?

She made it only a few paces before her body gave out. Chest heaving, she eased herself back down, weary green eyes sweeping the den. Glade's scent lingered—fresh herbs and dried ones. At least the smell was a comfort—sweet—bitter—comforting.

Her eyes caught on something hanging just above, the brightness cutting through the colorless fog in her head. "Marigold…" Vibrant orange with ruffled petals, swaying gently with the breeze that drifted in. There was somethin' hopeful about it. Just seeing it made her chest ache just a little less.

Speech, thoughts/emphasis

8 MOONS

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WINDCLAN

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SONG

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bio

 

[Gladebloom]

The barn fire had been an unexpected event that took everyone by surprise, leaving a path of destruction creviced in destruction, loss, and suffering. They'd done their best to scavenge resources and save everyone that they could, but some sacrificed themselves for others to allow them to see the next sunrise. As they found themselves in a new territory, StarClan had reached out to Dusty and introduced her to the life of the clans, where everything was different from life before. Dusty became Dustystar and had been blessed with nine lives; then she held a meeting to teach everyone about the changes they would face: there was disbelief and confusion, but also trust in the grey-colored she-cat. She made mention that they would eventually have a healer, and coincidentally, a few days later, a strange, starry-coated kitten appeared before her that knew her name. Was it one of her kits in the future that she wished to have with Beetle in the future? They planned to have a litter sometime, but everything had been disrupted by the fire, and now she'd been blessed by the very stars that met Dustystar as a medicine cat.

Her ocean-blue gaze flicks across the gathered herbs as she finds herself lost in thought with everything happening. There's a sudden shuffling that unconsciously makes her ears twitch until a sudden voice finally drags her from her thoughts: Marigold... The medicine cat turns towards Meadow(paw) as she offers a gentle smile and nods in agreement.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?"

Gladebloom would murmur softly as she rises from her spot and moves to the young cat's spot as she grabs a small marigold hanging on a small slate of rock. A white paw places it before her as she looks down at Meadow's leg as one of her paws hovers over the injury slightly as she assesses the healing.

"It's healing well. It'll take time, but we'll get you back on the fields in no time, Meadow."

The chocolate tabby murmurs as she shifts her focus to the girl's gaze as she offers a small smile of reassurance. Meadow wasn't alone, and there was no doubt that everyone would work together to help the tortoiseshell to adjust to her new injury, just as barncats always had.

"May once the swelling comes down, we can try to go on a walk to help you adjust. I'm sure anyone would be happy to help."

 

[Meadowpaw]

She's a liar, a calm to the fire
Shamed when we all follow suit

.

She couldn't seem to return to the place where she met Deadwood—that dark place where no light touched. And yet, somehow, there she found a glimmer of it hidden away. Meadow still hummed to herself on sleepless nights, hoping the melody he soothed her with might take her back there.

Meadow thought she finally understood what he meant about giving up. Since waking up, the idea crept into her mind more than once. If not for Meggie and Peafowl, Meadow knew now she would've let the fever have its way. Turn her to ashes like the fire had done to their home.

But thoughts like that made her feel guilty. As if just thinking it betrayed those who poured so much of their time and care into keeping her here. Cats like her sister and even Gladebloom too…

The calico turned sluggishly. Glade was what they called a medicine cat now, wasn't she? She coaxed the worst of their injuries toward healing. She was still as the molly examined her raw skin. Sometimes she still had the urge to curl away from that prying gaze, even if it was kind. But now, at least, she kept her eyes to the ground. One paw reached forward, brushing the orange petals.

Her brow clenched. Meadow wants to ask if it will ever be the same. If she will ever be able to run through the fields with her sister again, or fetch feathers for Ashen. She wants to ask—knows the answer—but is too scared to hear it spoken.

"Can I do it on my own?" She rasps dryly, "I don't want—I—" The idea of going outside should fill her with anticipation, but it doesn't. Suddenly, she feels very uneasy... or scared... frustrated?

But none of that seems fair to dump on Gladebloom, though. Especially not after she's spent so much time helping her get better. "Sorry. I'm not sure what I was trying to say..."

She slowly lifts her head. "You use marigold, right? For wounds?" Everyone was always helping and worrying these days. Meadow didn't like that she couldn't do the same for them when they no doubt needed it most. Before she could help hunt or do things to make them smile. But Meadowpaw didn't know if she could do that for them anymore. Not when she could barely walk let alone run.

Speech, thoughts/emphasis

8 MOONS

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WINDCLAN

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SONG

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bio