[center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px; width:400px; text-align:justify;]//tracks only pls
It all happened too fast. He had just been out collecting herbs when it happened. Their catmint levels were growing lower and lower, more due to Cricketpaw's daily consumption of them than anything else. He had thought that the ThunderClan border might've housed some leftover bundles, the slim chance of finding some herbs he had left behind previously pulling him to the area.
But it was not herbs that he found. Instead, it was somebody he had all but forgotten about. A SkyClanner once, he was sure of it, the young girl having seemingly disappeared moons prior. She was only several moons younger than him, likely still an apprentice at the time of their meeting. He had expected her to just bid him a greeting and be on her way.
Quickly, he learned that things would never work out the way he thought they would.
He blinked, and suddenly he was being attacked. Whether he had said something to provoke her, or she had simply wanted to chase him off, he had no clue. He couldn't remember. He didn't want to remember. All he knew was that suddenly he had a face full of fur, fury and fangs.
Immediately he acted, not thinking of the consequences of his actions. It was pure instinct that drove him, lessons burned into his mind from moons of training. They were not the "honorable" fighting moves that were taught in SkyClan, nor ShadowClan. Instead, they were the quick and deadly strikes one would expect from a tom who had grown up and trained in BloodClan.
Large paws meant large claws meant a crushing strike to the side, unbalancing the molly and drawing some blood in the process. What with his massive size, a combination of fat and muscle, it was almost too easy for her to knock her to the forest floor. In a flash, he had bent down and tug his teeth into her neck, holding her still as she writhed underneath him.
In a matter of seconds, the fight had both started and finished, leaving Audenine to deal with the aftermath. He stood from his position, pupils dilating in shock and jaw going slack. The medicine cat took one step back, and then another, observing the scene laid before him. He had gained control of himself again, realizing what he had just done. There, laid at his paws, was the corpse of a ThunderClan apprentice. A former SkyClanner, at that.
He couldn't let anybody find out about what had happened. They would exile him on the spot. They would brand him a murderer (which he was, by all means). They would insult him and say that they were wrong for ever letting a BloodClanner into their clan. They would spit the word BloodClanner like dirt (but he had nowhere to go, he and his siblings. They were left all alone they needed somebody. It wasn't his fault, they couldn't take care of themselves and Flicker seemed so nice and Sheogorath said to call him uncle and they all seemed so kind so how evil could they really be? Oh Lord oh Lord he was so so sorry he was SORRY HE WAS SO SORRY-)
He needed to hide the body. He needed to get clean. Erase the evidence.
First he had washed himself clean, an act which only took a short amount of time despite the long locks of fur he possessed. The blood that he had to lick off of his lips and paws tasted strongly of copper, leaving a disgusting tang in his mouth and an ache in his stomach. Though perhaps the latter was the guilt. After that was covering up his scent, a feat that was easily achieved by rubbing wild garlic around the area.
A short time later and he had successfully gotten rid of the apprentice's corpse, discarding it somewhere where nobody would find it. He hoped that ThunderClan would simply assume the apprentice was missing and move on. They really didn't need a war happening... SkyClan simply didn't have very many warriors. They wouldn't be able to protect themselves.
So that's why he had been so quiet over the past half a moon. He had been recovering from the shock, the guilt, trying to stay in his lane for a while until the uproar from ThunderClan had surely calmed down, if there even was an uproar in the first place. Maybe he had been too cautious, some may argue, but there was surely nothing wrong with that. After all, it was either he didn't leave the camp that often or he left forever due to being exiled. The former seemed to be the better option.
So this was it. In the coming sunrises, the clan would once again start to see more of their medicine cat... In all of his glory. Had he put on weight, or simply grown? Ah, it didn't matter. He was back in action, which was the only thing that really counted. He just hoped that the nightmares he had started to get would die down eventually.