Mallowswarm
Spiderthroat was calling a clan meeting. Anxiety kindled in Mallowswarm's chest as she took a seat beneath the Stormcrest, gazing up at the deputy. He looked and sounded terrible; limbs shaking, voice scratchy and hoarse, injuries on full display. He shouldn't be calling a meeting, not in this state. And if he was the one doing this, that meant Bumblestar must be even worse off than him. Of course she was, she had lost a life, maybe more, but still, she had come back, hadn't she? Her other wounds must be too bad for her to stray from the medicine den. Stars,
Spiderthroat didn't look like he should be out of the medicine den. How serious were the leader's wounds? Was she unconscious? Was she dead? Had that been her last life? What about the others? Had they died, were they okay? What had happened to the cats who hadn't come back? How many clanmates had they lost?
Mallowswarm tried her best to put the thoughts out of her mind, but her stomach still swirled with anxiety. She hoped Spiderthroat would start the meeting soon so she could find out the answers to her questions. Even if she didn't like them, it was better than not knowing... right?