Gathering 2025 TW: Sensitive Content TW: Death Closed why did love put a gun in my hand ↠ disturbance

[Meadowpaw]

Meadowpaw turned, her smile dashed the instant. Rowanpaw rushed off before she even had a chance to register what was being said. The three-legged apprentice rose, stumbling to catch up.

The scent of blood slammed into her like a gust of cold wind. The sickening metallic stench curled in her nose. She followed the other apprentices toward the commotion, an uneasy churn settling deep in her stomach.

When the scene unfolded, her legs nearly gave out. A silver tom lay sprawled in the dirt, a massacre painted around him. Blood was everywhere—on his fur, pooling into the grass, splattered on a tom that she assumed to be his attacker The tissue in her throat clenched, and she found it suddenly hard to breathe. She remained paralyzed, speechless, while Rowanpaw took control of the situation.

Meadowpaw hated it. Hated how pathetic she felt. But this... this was more than she could take. Nausea clawed up her throat. If she had eaten anything before leaving, she might've rejected the soup in her stomach. Even with the horror before them, Rowanpaw stayed composed. Meadowpaw found herself captivated once again. The other apprentice was everything that a medicine-cat should be. Smart... composed... compassionate. While she's glad Rowanpaw is there, she is also ashamed.

The other apprentice was so put together but she was struggling to even digest what she was seeing. Was she supposed to get used to horrific sights like this? Did she have to?

Stars, I hoped not.

Green eyes snapped up to meet amber, and Meadowpaw was pulled back to the present. "Y-yes! M-moss, I'll be right back." She stammered, twisting on her heels toward the great tree nearby. Beneath its shaded roots is where she searched until she found what was needed. With careful teeth, she stripped a thick patch of moss, shaking it loose of bugs and debris before hurrying back.

When she returned, Rowanpaw was already tending to Pikestar's body, smoothing his fur. The peace that lay over him was false, fleeting. That was a small comfort, especially to those who had to watch it happen. No, it would not take their hurt but at least their grief would be short-lived. He would wake just as Dustystar had. He would wake up… but not like this. Not with blood still caked in his fur, staining the lovely silver a tarnished red.

Meadowpaw offered a tuft of moss to Rowanpaw and kept one for herself, settling beside the silver tom. She dabs gently at his face, desperately trying to steady her feeble trembling. She felt so ashamed that she did not step up to comfort those who cared for him as Rowanpaw had... But she could still help in some way.

I'm so sorry this happened to you… I don't know what led to this, but I know you didn't deserve it. No one deserves this.

His wounds were telling of a passion, of a vibrant rage, but she couldn't understand it. How cats could leap to violence without a thought. How their claws could strike down their own without a thought for those who loved them. Just like someone had done to Dustystar. Tears prickled her lashes, but she held together, heart clenching in her chest.

______________I believe that there is a courage ✿ but its burnin' like ash in the wind_____________

• "speech" - thoughts
  
  Sorry guys she's never seen a crime scene before, she's a little traumatized rn.
• ​
• Meadow she/her & windclan
  ✿ Three-legged black and red tortoiseshell with green eyes.
  ✿ A light crisp-sounding voice
  ✿ Loves flowers and always has some woven into her fur
  ✿ Peaceful and healing powerplay permitted. All others DM.
  ✿ Fur smells floral and mildly sweet.
  
  
  penned by Scarlet​