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| - Russetpaw didn't realize she was running until she fell, landing in a rabbit hole. She didn't bother to get back up; her paw screamed with agony, and she was breathing hard. She'd delivered the prophecy, which promised the death of an innocent cat? She shivered, and realized she was cold. Russetpaw rolled stiffly to her paws; her pelt was tangled with bracken, leaves, and twig. A lightning bolt of pain shot up her right forepaw whenever she put weight on it; she winced when she realized she'd have to wobble home. Home. Where was home? Did she go back to TreeClan's camp? Apologiaze for running out like that? Or...go back to the barn? Tell the kits and Jewel and Duke and Izzy she'll never leave again? Or... go back to LeafClan? Tell her mother she can take care of herself, live as a warrior again? Neither option sounded good. She shivered, cold and lonely, and sat hunched against a bush. "Done having a spazz attack, sweetheart?" Russetpaw whirled around, her paw moaning protest. Goldpelt was leaning against a tree, a snarky expression on his pale golden features. "I-" "Listen," Goldpelt hissed, circling her slowly. "I'm one of the four cats in the prophecy. We already figured it out that you are, too. We don't know the other two yet. Just know that you're not the only one affected by this." Russetpaw blinked. He thought she was wallowing in self-pity? Huh. "Can you walk?" He asked gruffly, sitting. Russetpaw nodded, lifted her head, and started to walk back the way she came. But she'd hardly gone a step when her paw rejected the pain, and her leg gave out from under her. "Oh!" She huffed as she hit the ground. Goldpelt sighed and stood in front of her. "What?" Russetpaw asked after a minute. "Get on my back. I can't exactly leave you here." Russetpaw blinked. "Your back...?" "Yes, my back." He sounded irritated. "You know, the thing with my spine?" "Jerk," Russetpaw muttered and she dragged herself onto his broad, flat back, which was difficult when you can only use one paw. She settled somewhat uncomfortably in the dip between his wide shoulders, digging into his thick fur with her claws, pinning her tail against her side. "Mmm," Goldpelt replied, beginning at a gently slow pace back to camp. ~ ~ ~ Russetpaw hadn't noticed she'd fallen asleep, until she suddenly hit cold, hard ground. "Whaaa...?" She groaned, paw aching, and sat upright. She could hear a low roaring, and placed it a moment later as Goldpelt laughing. "Idiot!" He gasped as soon as he could breathe. "You fell asleep and fell off!" Russetpaw was too exhausted to defend herself; she simply dragged herself, with mostly Goldpelt's help, back onto his shoulders. She fell asleep before she hit the soft, thick fur. ~ ~ ~ "We're home," A soft voice murmured in her ear. Russetpaw blinked open groggy eyes and glanced around. Somehow, he'd gotten her through the tunnel that led under the roots of the tree without difficulty. Then she saw the gaping hole in the wall of fern. "What happened there?" Russetpaw croaked, rubbing her eyes with a paw. "Uh...you tore through the wall like a blinded badger and disappeared in the forest, that's what. If I wasn't such an excellent tracker, you would have stayed out there." Russetpaw blinked. "I did that?" She asked in astonishement. "Yup, you did, sweetheart. Now our senior warriors, who are already tired, poor things, have to fix the wall." He sat, Russetpaw sliding ungracefully of his back onto the ground. She straightened; her paw still ached, but not as much. "My paw hurts," She whimpered, still half-asleep. Goldpelt glanced at her paw, turned to a tabby warrior. "Get Fireberry. She fell into a rabbit hole." The tabby nodded and whisked off, coming back a moment later with a pretty ginger and white tabby. "Which paw, little one?" The tabby asked, crouching beside Russetpaw. She held out the hurting paw, and the medicine cat swiftly wrapped it thick, brown-green bark. "Keep off that paw, and it should be as good as new in a few days," The tabby mewed cheerfully, cleaning up the scraps of bark and whisking off. "Follow me." Russetpaw jumped at Goldpelt's vocie; he'd snuck up behind her without even the slightest noise. "I'll get you a makeshift den." The ginger cat swallowed hard and followed him to a fallen log, half-hidden in fern near the back of camp. "Usually we share fresh-kill here, and out apprentices sharpen their claws on the bark, but it can work as a den, too." He disappeared into a bramble den and came back loaded down with moss, which he shaped into a nest, against the trunk of the rotten log. he dipped his head awkwardly and ducked back into the center of camp. Here, she was completley hidden from the rest of the camp. Craving the musty scent and scratchy texture of hay, Russetpaw fell into a fitfull sleep, dreaming about her three young friends, trapped by a golden-furred tom with dripping red teeth.
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