- tw: descriptions of gore -
A cry for help makes her turn, weary eyes sweeping over the tunneler first—then catching on Fogstare, cradled between her and a larger, unfamiliar shape. Her focus narrows on Fogstare immediately. The rain obscures her vision, but even then, she can see that he's in horrible condition. Blood rolls down his face in streams, matting fur to skin. Did his eyes get scratched? That was the last thing she wanted to have to deal with, but she'd treated Dimmingsun's eye and Talon's too. There was still hope for his sight, but she would need to see the damage first and stop the bleeding.
She moves to meet them, and only then does she notice the stranger beside them. He's massive, easily matching Dimmingsun in size and just as talkative. She wonders vaguely if those two would get along—but for some reason, she doubts it. His constant chatter is friction against her thinning nerves. Maybe it's his lack of seriousness for the situation, or that she's just too tired to tolerate the constant noise.
"M-Meadow, hey!" She cranes her head toward another approaching shape. Another stranger—no, not quite. He knows her. Her mind takes a moment to blow off the dust.
"Slick?" That was his name, or she thought it was. He was the tom that they ran into scavenging a few moons back. Meadowpaw would've liked to ask him what he was doing there, but there were more important things that needed her attention.
While he talks, Meadowpaw's attention drifts back to Silentstep. The molly sways on unsteady paws, but Slick steps in to brace her. She flicks her tail toward the nearby fence.
"Over there—out of the rain."
Once they're settled, she presses her nose to Silentstep's shoulder. It was plain to see just how hard her body worked to get there.
"You were brave today and saved others, you can rest now. I can handle it from here." Fogstare is the priority, but Silentstep's exhaustion could lead to sickness if she isn't careful. Especially if she swallowed water like the tom said.
The large tom speaks again, further grinding down her patience. The way he talks to her sounds something between a taunt and a vy for gratitute. She's reminded of something Bengt said to her once—
I could've been dangerous to your Clan. To you. But you still healed me without knowing me—He wasn't like Bengt. Though if he wanted to hurt her clanmates, he could've, or easier still, not bothered to save them at all. So, what then? Would he expect something in return for what he'd done? One look around should've told him that they didn't have anything to give. She should be grateful to him for saving Fogstare, and she is, but something about him makes her uneasy.
"Thank you for saving him, but I can do my job without being told to do it." Meadowpaw remarks dully, shineless eyes resting on Fogstare.
"I'm sure you're tired too, please go rest." She gestures farther down the fenceline.
Over there. Away from me.
Drawing a shaky breath through her nose, Meadowpaw takes a closer look at the wound. It looks worse up close. The blood has layered on thick and turned tacky despite continuing to bleed, caking over his fur like candlewax until she can barely tell where the wound even is. They have no cobwebs to stop it. No herbs to prevent the infection he will assuredly get if there are splinters trapped under the skin.
"We need herbs…" She murmurs to herself. There it is. That regret she was sure would come. It is largely in part her fault that they don't have herbs. Knowing that her weakness would cause someone to suffer more is something she can't bear right now. The guilt burns out as quickly as it comes, replaced by numbness and a hum in her ears that comes with focus.
She gently urges Fogstare to lie down, rinses the mud from her paws in a puddle, and then presses against the wound. The glue-like layers stick to her pads, and the trickle of fresher blood rolling over her paws dilutes with the rain. She's sure it's uncomfortable for Fogstare, but there's nothing else she can do. The pressure helps, but it's not enough.
"Slick, if you can... I need cobwebs. Anything to stop this bleeding."
Talonpaw calls for her, and keeping Fogstare in her sidelines, she tilts her head to look. Meadowpaw finds the tom, and next to him, a small shape clinging to his side. Yewkit.
"Thank goodness..." Her eyes soften. A flicker of relief dancing behind panes of frosted glass. She had almost forgotten that Yewkit even grabbed herbs.
"Come over here and let me see what you have." Meadowpaw waits for her with a tired smile.
// Currently helping @Fogstare. Referenced or talked to @Silentstep, @ZII, @SLICK and @Yewkit.
