Meanwhile, Hawkfeather had heaved herself completely out of the bank and hid in a scraggly bush before night fell. I failed everyone. I failed Ashstorm. He's probably dead for all I know. What's wrong with me? Injuries like this never affected me this much.......when I was a fit, young BearClan warrior, that is. In the morning, Hawkfeather felt cold and dumb. The mud on her belly had caked onto her fur-or what was left of her belly fur-where she had barely groomed herself.
Hawkfeather began to stretch. "Ow!" Her wrenched paw twinged with a sharp pain. Staggering up, Hawkfeather shoved her way out of the bush's thin branches and began a slow walk towards the StreamClan camp. Maybe a dawn patrol would find her.
Hawkfeather began to stretch. "Ow!" Her wrenched paw twinged with a sharp pain. Staggering up, Hawkfeather shoved her way out of the bush's thin branches and began a slow walk towards the StreamClan camp. Maybe a dawn patrol would find her.
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