Gloamingcrest was angry. An emotion rather unknown to the tom, but it was undeniable: lying here, on the ShadowClan-RiverClan border, he was shaking with rage. He wasn't sure what had driven him to attack first. Loyalty to his Clan, worry about what leafbare would bring... sure. But more than that, desperation to prove himself. To win. That moment when he'd been in control and fear flashed in Shadeblossom's eyes... he'd felt /powerful./ And then it was lost. /He/ had lost, and it tasted terrible. Like blood in his mouth, actually. No, there was real blood in his mouth, and he could feel the scars forming through the pain pain pain of the newly-opened cuts across his muzzle, leg, and ear. Too bad ShadowClan didn't have a medicine cat. Too bad he would die out here, all alone. /No!/ He hissed, fear and rage fueling him as he realized that, if he didn't move, he /would/ die of his injuries. It scared him. He'd never been in true danger, even in the hands of the Twolegs, even left in the cold as a kit, even when the snapping jaws of a dog had been closing in on him... he'd never been this close to death, to true demise. /Stop overreacting./ He struggled to his paws. His back leg immobile, his left eye glued shut because blood blood blood and it was everywhere and he could taste it. He looked around. The only place ShadowClan's territory touched RiverClan's was in the very far corner of the land. It would be a long trek. But Gloamingcrest would make it. /If I survived the dogs, survived the Twolegs, survived even being abandoned as a kit-/ He would make it. So what if he couldn't see? So what if he had to hop, alone and half-conscious through the bog? He'd done harder things. Gritting his teeth, he jumped. Bounding forward and- well, not quite /bounding./ More like limping, struggling along with an unstable pace and a face full of terror because what if an owl or a hawk decided it wanted a tasty kitty snack? No. He'd be able to fight it off. He knew that now, a feeling unfurling inside him. He wasn't invincible... well, clearly, he was a bleeding mess. But he also knew that, after being defeated in battle? He wouldn't let it happen again. He wouldn't lose his edge, like he had. He'd keep that poise, that /power/ he knew he had. He just needed to harness it. /Crack!/ Spitting out an irony mouthful of blood and rage, he stumbled, half-blind from the blood and impending darkness, around the twig he'd missed before, tumbling. Down. But where? He unsheathed his claws, feeling soggy wood below him. He wrenched his head around, his good eye meeting a solid wall of treebark. /Oh./ He'd fallen somehow, into a hollowed-out tree trunk. /Well, that's just great./ But his sarcastic retort was cut short when he noticed the sticky white substance snaking around his paws: cobwebs. "Yes!" He whispered aloud, his jaws parting to gather the cobweb. Dragging himself out of the tree-tunnel, he set them carefully in a crevice between two near branches of a close pine tree. He wasn't an idiot: he knew that an infection would be bad, and that he'd need to clean off the wound before he bandaged it. He didn't have any herbs, or the proper knowledge to use them, but... There. A small puddle, nestled between the roots of a small pine. He yanked a clump of moss off the ground with a sharp, violent tug, and soaked it into the muddy rainwater before pressing it against his wounds. It stung. But it was a good sort of sting, the kind that meant Gloamingcrest had made it. Survived and even problem-solved his way out of this stupid dilemma. He grabbed the cobwebs, doing his best to patch the claw-scorched areas. He'd look at it closer when he got to camp, or in the morning when he could see. For now, though, his work would have to do. The rest of his journey was made hastily... well, as fast as he could go while still suspending his back leg. But through the pain, Gloamingcrest was smiling. Why? Because he would never, ever have to do this again. He would train harder than ever, fight harder than ever. He /wouldn't/ lose again, he'd make sure of it. /StarClan, do you hear me? I will be better. I will be stronger, faster. I'll be calculated and I'll be vigilant. I'm the hunter, not the prey, and I'll show anyone who doubts that. I will strike first, I will strike faster, and I will strike harder. I will not lose again./
