CRACK

That was the sound his skull made after Shadow was bashed off the wall of the church. Everything hurts so much he can't tell which part of him is worse off.

"Cluny," His voice sounds faint "I'm hurt, help me"

"Get up and run for it or stay here, fool. I don't carry cripples or bunglers."

And with that, Cluny the Scourge snatches the dear picture of Martin the Warrior and is off, Redtooth close behind. Shadow always thought death would come easy. That he would gladly die for Cluny. But now that he was actually here, actually dying? Now he desperately clings to life. The little mouse that chased him is here now, bruises already starting to form where Shadow had desperately kicked him in the face. He scrambles around searching for the tapestry. Seeing that it's not there, he turns to leave the rat, to follow Cluny. But a paw grips his ankle.

"Please..." a wretched voice comes from the black mass on the ground "help me..."

The mouse looks back and forth between Shadow and the way Cluny had gone. He realizes that the war rat is far gone by now, and with a sigh, he turns his attention to Shadow.

He crouches down, and assesses his injuries. He reaches for Shadow's cloth, and starts tearing off strips. Once he has enough, he wraps them around his injuries. He starts with the head, which took a lot of the damage, and works his way down. Soon, the badger comes out and joins him. Their quick work is the only thing that saved his life.

When Shadow wakes up, he hasn't the foggiest idea where he is. He tries to sit up as he surveys the room, but pain shoots through his body, forcing him to lay back down. Glancing around from his limited view from the bed, he figures out that he's in an infirmary. There's only one other patient, at the far end of the room. But other than that, he has no idea where he is. His head pounds and his vision blurs. Slowly, he starts to slip back into the sweet embrace of unconsciousness.

When he comes to again, the infirmary is full of patients. Healers bustle from patient to patient, filling the place with movement. He can hear shouting, clanging, moans of pain. He has to press his ears onto his skull to block the noise. His skin still is crawling from the noises as he falls deep into sleep once more.

Crying. Someone is crying. These quiet sobs stir him from comforting sleep. He squeezes his eyes tight before finally opening them. He turns his head in the direction. A small mouse, barely a boy, crouches beside an older mouse, his fur starting to gray. With both his uninjured paw and the one in the sling grip the older mouse's paw. The old mouse doesn't stir. Shadow's eyes close.

Shadow twitches. Something brushes against his fur. He's rapidly pulled back into consciousness as a mouse put her grubby paws all over his sleek black fur. He jerks away, startling the woman. He tries to back away with eyes darting every which way, but finds himself toppling over, wacking his head on the stone floor. He lets out a cry of agony, and tries to grip his concussed head, but discovers one of his arms in a splint. His whole body burns with pain. The woman helps him back into the bed, and he's too hurt to stop her.

"Oh dear, I wasn't expecting you to wake up so soon." She carefully pries his paw away to survey the damage. "You've knocked yourself up pretty good, and that tumble certainly isn't doing you any favours. Drink this, it'll help with the pain"

She presses a bottle to his lips which he gulps down greedily. Whether it actually helps, or kills him, anything is better than this horrid aching. The mouse talks as she works.

"I'm misses Fieldmouse. I'm not much help in battle, so I offered to help with healing. My lovely daughter is out there serving food to all those not damaged by the awful fight. Now you are a mighty tough case. Cracked skull, an arm and a leg each broken, a fractured arm, sprained ankle, and three broken ribs. And that's without going into the other damages. But don't you worry, If anyone can get you right, it's us at the abbey."

"How..." Shadow finally brings himself to say "...how long have I been asleep."

"You've been out for half the week sweetie."

Shadow let's put a groan of pain as she tightens his bandages. He sits in silence for a while. As she chatters, his eyes sweep the room. The bed where the old mouse had been was empty.

"The mouse in that bed over there, the one with the greying fur. Where is he?" Shadow points to the empty bed, already knowing the answer.

"Poor old man didn't make it." She shakes her head sadly "His grandson, his only remaining descendant, was broken to pieces when we had to lay him to rest with the others."

The rat makes no more comments as she continues to work, tittering away. His lips stay shut even when she asks his questions. When she's finally done, he lays back down again. But sleep does not come this time. He's left alone to his thoughts. In the moment, he'd been desperate to escape the claws of death, but now it settles on him the gravity of what he's done. He betrayed Cluny, left his side for days, and he let the filthy mice tend to him. He may not be dead now, but if Cluny were to ever find out, he certainly would be. His mind replays these events over and over as he drifts back to slumber.