"ɪ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ"- ᴡʀᴀɪᴛʜꜱᴘɪʀɪᴛ's ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ꜱʀᴘ

Instructions

TRIGGER WARNING: Red circulatory fluid and oofing ["ꜱʜᴀʀᴘᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛᴀʟᴏɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪɢʜᴛ, ᴄʟᴀᴡ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴀꜱ ɪᴛ ᴄʟᴀᴡꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇʏᴇꜱ, ᴡᴇ ʀᴀɪꜱᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʀɪɢʜᴛ, ʜᴀᴡᴋ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ"] Wraithspirit had woken up exhausted, feeling strangely hot despite the freezing weather outside. His wound had stung as he rose from his nest, so he had gone to see the medics again. They had treated him with the few herbs that grew in the bitter cold, but it was impossible not to notice the worry lining their faces as they tried to help. Now he padded out of camp as steadily as he could, trying to ignore Rememberancepaw’s concerned eyes burning into his back. Maybe if he pretended he hadn’t seen, he would wake up tomorrow and this would all be fine. Maybe the war wouldn't have happened, maybe he wouldn’t have fought, maybe he wouldn’t have been injured this badly. But he knew that it wasn’t going to happen. And if he really thought about it, there was no scenario in which he wouldn’t have fought for his clan, he just wished above all else that he had done better. ["ᴏᴏʜ, ʙᴀʙʏ ʙɪʀᴅ, ɪ'ᴍ ɢʟᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇ ᴀɴʏᴍᴏʀᴇ, ɪᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇᴀᴋ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ᴜɴꜰᴜʀʟ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ...ᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ꜰɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴄʀᴀᴘꜱ"] Wraithspirit’s entire life had been spent trying to be better. The strongest, most useful, best hunter, best fighter, best warrior in all of the clans. UrchinClan had saved him after all, taken him in when he was only a kit. They had fed him when he hadn’t caught anything, healed him when he got sick, provided him with a safe place to live, boulders to climb, and endless sands to explore. The least he could do was try and return the favor, try and be useful to the one thing he had left to be loyal to. His clan. But what had he /actually/ done for them? He had fought in the war, sure, but only killed one FlurryClanner before he was severely injured in the first battle. He had felt so useless these past weeks, the medics hovering over him as he took up space he hadn’t earned yet. Which was why he couldn’t possibly rest, not when he could be doing something to help them. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered to himself, ignoring the throb of the ugly red slices that ran down his neck. “I’m not weak. The Dark Forest will have mercy on me if I just try harder.” ["ᴏᴏʜ, ʙᴀʙʏ ʙɪʀᴅ, ɪ'ᴍ ɢʟᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ Qᴜɪᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴀᴜɢʜɪɴɢ, ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏᴜᴅ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀᴡꜰᴜʟ, ʙᴜʙʙʟʏ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ, ꜱᴄʀᴇᴇᴄʜɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ʜᴀᴡᴋ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴋʏ"] The crunch of Wraithspirit’s paws in the snow-covered ground was the only sound that could be heard as he arrived at the silent beach. He didn’t even notice the freezing leaf-bare wind. All he could feel was the heat under his pelt and the steady stabbing of invisible claws on his neck. He forced himself forward anyway, scanning the shore for movement. If he managed to catch something, maybe he could prove he wasn’t just wasting space and herbs. Wraithspirit dropped into a hunting crouch as he spotted a large sandpiper, his eyes locked on the bird. If he had paid more attention, he might have noticed that his stance wasn't quite right. Maybe he also might have noticed the small, sharp rock a few tail-lengths away. But he wasn’t paying attention, and he didn’t notice. As he leapt, his hind paw slipped on the wet snow, throwing off the angle of his jump. He crashed to the ground, the breath being pushed from his lungs in a shocked wheeze as pain exploded up his neck. The sandpiper was gone before he even processed that he had missed. He laid there for a moment, ears ringing, before carefully pushing himself up to his trembling legs. Wraith took a few steps forward before dizziness hit. The shore tilted, and he stopped moving, staring down at the ground with alarm. Red stained the snow beneath him, and he spotted the sharp rock right where he had landed, covered in his blood. He realized with a jolt the wound had opened again. “That’s not that bad…”, he lied to himself. “I’ll be fine, maybe I should get a medic though…,” he muttered, his voice sounding strangely distant. He blinked slowly as he turned back toward camp. Yeah, that was a good plan. The medics would fix him up, and then he would be fine. ["ᴏᴏʜ, ʙᴀʙʏ ʙɪʀᴅ, ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢᴀʟᴇ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴏᴀʀ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀɴ ᴇᴀɢʟᴇ, ɪᴛꜱ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴛᴏᴏ ꜰʀᴀɢɪʟᴇ, ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴡᴇᴀᴋ, ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛꜱ ᴇɢᴏ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴜꜱ, ᴄʜɪʟᴅ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ, ᴡᴇ'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴘʀɪᴅᴇ ᴏɴ ᴏᴜʀ ꜱɪᴅᴇ"] But before he had taken even 3 steps, Pelargonuimangelshark’s voice spoke up at the back of his mind. /Weak little scrap. You’ll never be a true UrchinClanner, always expecting others to help you./ Wraithspirit clenched his jaw and turned away from camp. No. He didn’t need help yet. That would mean he had failed, and he couldn’t fail. Not now. Not when he could still help UrchinClan. Continued in n+c