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At Heron's word and Russetfur's nod of approval, the three warriors did as told. Vinetail and Scorchfrost seizing the body and dragging it a little closer to the shade to avoid any more of the sun's rays on it. Vinetail staying closer to the shaded area as well, only coming out to help start digging before seeking shelter again.
Blackmuzzle passed his son, bumping shoulders with him, "[b]Apologize for what you said. The kit is not dead, and she will not allow you to already bury her brother," the older tom hissed into his ear. Trotting to where Scorchfrost had already begun digging, making an outline of the grave they were to make, the speckled tom took to one end as his clanmates took the other.

Admittedly, Russetfur had taken a little more interest in the young stranger as she lashed at him. He knew the kit back at the camp had a so and so chance of survival. But if he refused to accept and cooperate with any of the help being offered, his chances just decreased with time. He was already too thin, both were. They were wary and afraid. But the tom did feel a little sting of guilt for already talking as if the kit was dead. Already burying him along with his mother.

With his father's words, he sighed heavily before dragging himself towards Heron. Sitting a little way from her, he lifted a paw to lazily examine it, giving it a tentative lick before clearing his throat to speak. "Hey, kit, I'm sorry for what I said back there. I didn't mean to make it seem your brother doesn't have a chance of survival," green eyes flickering up to the sky, he continued to speak softly, "It's just that the state you two arrived in doesn't look very promising. From what I understand and saw, he shut down on the way to the camp. At least you have a fire still lit inside of you, his is just dimming"

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Back at the camp, Crow had taken a slight interest in what was going on around him. He wasn't dead yet- the clan cats had yet to slit his throat and watch him bleed out at their paws. A shudder sent the young tom burying his face into his paws, stifling a cry. He was still alive. He was safe it seemed. His gaze could still hover around different details of the den he was in, his nose still smelled the earthy and comforting scent he was in the center of. He could still hear the words quietly exchanged between the mentor and her apprentice.

The dark tom could only be grateful for the small laugh the skinny tom had given him. The poor tortie jumping back and crying that he heard the shadow speak before he fell unconscious again. As they believed Crow had slipped into a deep sleep, but instead, the kit was pretending to be as he was listening to what was going around him.

When the apprentice had been sent away with a treated pinched paw, he barely opened his eyes to watch him go. Making a show of how his paw still ached from him tripping on a rock while playing with a kit. And while Crow was curious about what was happening just outside the den, he felt much too weak to stand to venture outside and was much too nervous to speak. So instead, he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, pulling his fore-paws closer to him as his breathing slowed to a quiet snore.

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Observing the young molly, Russetfur could only wonder what had happened to this catling. Expression changing in disgusted anger as he watched how she tossed the dead mother into the simple pit. What had the black cat done to turn her daughter? As to have her so disinterested in the corpse left behind? To have only her brother to keep her going in life. With Heron being so young, she should have been energetic, curious, and naive. She wasn't meant to already know the hardships of being grown. Shaking his head, he let it droop for a second before he sighed loudly. 
"[b]Very well," he cleared his throat as he stood "if we can't find any fresh traces of the rouge, we should head straight to the camp" Russetfur announced, flicking his tail as he walked to the entrance of the clearing, turning to scan it once more, eyes stopping on Heron, he gestured for her to move with them. Looking at the small mound of dirt, his heart grew heavy- the smaller version of the mother could soon join her. Despite what his sibling said, Russetfur was not sure if a full recovery could be expected. Whatever she did, she will not be able to do it anymore. The kits will be safe with us from now on for however long they stay.
Signaling for the patrol to line out of the clearing, he trailed behind. Green gaze fixating from one thing to another, his attention being drawn back to Heron. Unsure whether or not he should apologize for earlier, he groaned to himself before he rolled his eyes "Hey, kid, listen, I-" he yowled in anger as he stumbled forward, quickly forgetting what he was going to say. His tail had been caught in the bushes, causing him to trip and lose his train of thought. Instead, he only hissed to himself as he pulled himself free and gave his tail short, annoyed licks before glancing up to see Blackmuzzle turning to give him a questionable tilt of his head.
Clearing his throat, the large tom simply shook his head and waved his tail in a dismissive manner and to show it was fine. Continuing to walk forward, he just sighed as he neared the white youngster “Let us just get back to the camp. We don’t know if this sicko is still out here or if he still wants to bring harm to you.” he said almost in a worried tone. He knew that the rouge wouldn’t be able to grab the kit while in their care, he would be stupid to even try, but he still worried that she would be put in harms way and he’d be responsible for it.

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While under the state of coming in and out of consciousness, Crow would cry his sister’s name. Feeling around the nest for the missing body that was usually always next to him. When he could not sense her, he’d whimper before twisting to face the wall, pressing himself closely to the stone wall.
During his short moments of being awake, Dapplepaw looked over and shook his head slowly, “He’ll be out before I can even lift my paw…” he murmured before he returned to trying to convince Turtlepaw to stop crying over his paw and reassuring him that it wasn’t broken. “Go check on the elders, why don’t you? See if they need anything and search for lice, I believe I heard Hawk complaining about an itch earlier. Come back if he or any other elder has any signs.” his voice came out tired yet hopeful and cheerful. The task could keep the apprentice busy long enough to forget about his ‘injury’ and he would be able to go bother some other cat that wasn’t Dapplepaw.
To the medicine cat’s apprentices relief, Turtlepaw sniffled and stood up hesitantly before slowly inching towards the entrance, glancing back with a pitiful look, the apprentices sharing a look before the younger apprentice gave him a last nod of encouragement and a slight wave of his paw before he turned to share the report to Ivyleaf. The tortie sighed and made his way towards the elder’s den, making sure to make a show of a limp and the pain that he was clearly in. The elder’s peeking out of the den to watch him curiously and filing out to sniff at his paw, the apprentice beaming slightly at the amount of new attention he received.
The elders were good to humor him of his little incidents that turned to be as tiny as a branch tapping on his shoulder when he passed a bush during a patrol, returning to the camp to claim that he was attacked by a vicious beast. Until the older warriors that had been in the same patrol chuckled and cleared what had happened. The young tom had earned a title of being a crybaby that loved the attention of being babied. And most of the elders and older warriors or queens didn’t mind it, as it gave them something to do during their day and most of the time, they’d get the apprentice to fetch them their meal in return of a story or more showering of attention.

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