E C H O
On the outskirts of this amalgamation of cats, a rough-looking grey tabby stood, green eyes scanning over them with an unknown purpose. It was tough to tell who could be the group's leader, which was unfortunate since Echo had no idea where to start otherwise. Her claws slid in and out of the soft grass beneath her and finally, she let out a grunt, marching her way up to the most scarred of the cats grouped up. As she approached, her eyes slid over the cat - a brown tabby bobtail who certainly looked like she'd be in a few fights in her time. Flicking one ear slightly as she approached, Echo pushed herself to a fuller height, offering an off-kilter smile to the other molly.
"'Scuse me. Are you the leader here? I've got some business here, but, well, its'a long story." In an effort to seem relaxed and less like she was here for trouble, Echo settled back onto her haunches in front of the brown tabby, lazily running her tongue over one of her paws, though one eye was still fixed on the cat in front of her.
Further inward, they approached the triage where the worst injured were housed. It was just a derelict concrete pipe, cracked in half and partially sunken into the earth. They had draped a ragged piece of cloth over the entrance for privacy.
"They call me many things," Bearheart said wryly. "Bearheart is the most popular."
Inside the makeshift dwelling, the scent of infection and blood was overpowering. As a mother, Bearheart was no stranger to gross bodily odors, but it was still difficult to witness suffering like this. And with no way to alleviate it beyond what little she knew. A few patients stirred, a tall gray she-cat with a half-bandaged face. Two apprentices coiled around one another, darned with a collection shallow wounds.
"ThunderClan has been driven from our ancestral grounds by our own Leader no less. I...suspect not all is what it seems." She shook her head wearily. "Still, anything you can do is much appreciated."
E C H O
Echo's expression broke into one of surprise and shortly thereafter, into relief. A grin split her face, some of the tension dropping from her form almost immediately, despite the fact she was still deep within a group of unknown cats.
As Bearheart rose to her feet, Echo followed suit, her green eyes flitting about the makeshift camp. Her mind was already reeling with the fact that she had been believed just like that. Although... taking a look at the state of this Clan, she couldn't exactly be surprised. "I've lived in worse places, I can tell 'ya that much," she teased, tilting her head slightly as she trailed behind the warrior. Her tail swayed lazily behind her, twitching absentmindedly as she looked around, but as Bearheart spoke again, her ears perked up and her eyes refocused on her. "Ah- Guess I musta lost my manners on tha way in. The name's Echo. An' whadda they call you?"
After a moment, the grey molly hummed softly. "Y'know... I've never met any 'a you Clan folks before so I don't know what life's like out here, but..." She hesitated, trying to find a kinder way to word what she was about to say. Gazing on at the bright eyes reflected from the ditch, Echo was unable to find one. "Er... Isn't there a better place for y'all to stay? Somewhere with a bit more shelter, maybe?" As if realizing this wasn't the best way to introduce herself, she cleared her throat and tried again. "I ain't here to throw stones or anythin', though. Just a remark."
Bearheart sat stonestill, letting this stranger speak her peace. Her scarred features betrayed no strong emotions, though weariness broke through in her green eyes.
A car peeled by in the distance, its gaze briefly illuminating the deserted lot. Rats and cats alike scattered before the beams, but Bearheart herself remained still as its harsh brightness cloaked her. Under such stark scrutiny, her weight loss and haggard appearance were unmistakable.
“Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting,” She began slowly after a beat of silence. “But you described a sign from our Warrior ancestors perfectly. Why, in StarClan’s name, they’d contact an outsider such as yourself is beyond me but…I never claimed any great insight into their ways.”
She rose to her feet with a new energy.
“If you have skills in the healing arts, we’d not turn away any help. I’m afraid we can offer you no more in return than what you see before you, but if it’s amenable, follow me.” She began to lead the way back to a ditch where the bulk of the Clan sheltered. A few faces rose and vanished from within, curious eyes reflecting the light from the lampposts.
“Hey, didn’t get your name by the way.”
E C H O
Echo's face twisted in thought as she tried to figure out where to begin. Her head cocked slightly, her tattered ears flicking in thought.
"Well, uh- Just promise me you'll hear me out, 'cause it sounds mighty crazy an' I know that." Echo had certainly been wondering to herself if she'd finally lost it. Marching herself into Clan territory over a dream? It was insane. Really, truly insane - unless it worked out.
"I had this dream..." Echo began, before shaking her head and deciding that wasn't quite how she wanted to start this. "I don' know much about all y'all Clan cats or what happens with yer ghosts, but... Well, I think I had a ghost visit me. In a dream." The grey molly paused for a moment, eyeing up the cat in front of her, trying to gauge just how close she was to being tossed out. When it seemed at least that the warrior hadn't gotten more aggressive, she continued. "I'll be honest, I know it ain't much to go off'a but... Well, I was told this ThunderClan could use me for somethin'. My healin', I guess. Does... Does that make any sense to you?"
For how confident the loner had been this entire time, there was a look of real concern on her face now. After the initial questioning of her sanity, Echo had convinced herself this dream had been too real to not mean something. She'd set off shortly after that. With the chaos and emotion of the experiences, she had been on her feet so long she hadn't really stopped to wonder what she would do if she was turned away. She hadn't even stopped to consider that as an option. But now, as she stared at this tough-looking molly in front of her, she curled her ragged tail around her, feeling more nervous than she had anticipated.
It was a mark of how trying the last 48 hours had been that Beaheart merely blinked a few times, failing to comprehend what this city cat was saying to her. Her manner of speaking itself was foreign enough, unlike other outsiders that Bearheart had come into contact over her many years.
Still, dottiness aside, she didn’t seem inherently harmful. They certainly outnumbered her, if it came to that.
Feeling a touch more at ease, Bearheart sat down. In truth, her aching joints had been begging for a respite for days, if she were being honest with herself.
“Alright, I’ll bite,” She said, weariness still draped over her words. “What does that mean?”
Bearheart did not take notice of the approaching figure until they were right upon her. Things were quite disorganized, with neither the Clan’s Leader or Deputy having departed with the band of so-called rebels. They had settled in what appeared to be a vacant lot behind some human buildings. There was enough refuse for them to make dens and set up camp. For her part, Bearheart had been attempting to keep the tension from rupturing into brawls between stressed and anxious Clanmates. The senior Warriors had met and sent an envoy in the form of an apprentice messenger to the other Clans, and to what remained of RiverClan, wherever they were.
So it was with ruffled fur that she faced the stranger before her. Tired, bloodshot eyes and unsheathed claws. Her docked tail was but a poof of fur, round and held up straight
“Unless that business is turning around and marching in the other direction, I doubt we’ve got much to discuss,” The old she-cat growled. Her tone was firm, but not aggressive. “This is the camp of ThunderClan– temporarily.”