[the siege]

ii. chapter two

She shook her head, but she couldn't manage to banish the thought from the back of her mind.

She kept picking her way through the slippery morning sand until she reached her home-BayClan camp. Larkflower walked past the tempting fresh-kill pile, feeling as if she were about to pass out from hunger. She kept walking until she reached the medicine cat, Harewing's, den. Larkflower stepped inside the small cave, but then quickly realized that she was not Harewing's only patient. Inside the den were Pebbleslip, Jaysight, and Petalpaw.

"Move," Harewing's voice came from deep inside of the tunnel leading to the main part of the den where the rest of the cats were. Under his breath, he said, "I can't believe there have been so many injuries-except you, Pebbleslip, I was expecting you to come sooner."

Pebbleslip's fur stood on end, embarrassed. "Just because I'm clumsy doesn't mean that I'm always hurting myself," Larkflower pressed closer to her friend, trying to comfort her.

Harewing looked up from his task; chewing up the pulp of some unknown herb. "Here, Jaysight. It's coltsfoot. It helps soothe your broken pads. Just don't-" Harewing broke off as Jaysight dipped his head to try and eat the stuff. "Don't eat it!" Harewing finished in a warning tone.

Jaysight looked equally as embarrassed as his clanmate, Pebbleslip, as he whisked out of the den quickly and headed to the warriors' den, wiping the plant substance on his broken paw pads.

"Now, Pebbleslip, what's the problem?" Harewing shuffled back into the tunnel store, ready to collect a few herbs.

"I just need some comfrey root for a wrenched shoulder. I remember last time I was in here, you were telling Goldenfur to line his nest with it." Pebbleslip responded, her sleek grey coat rippling as she reached forwards to take the comfrey root.

"Good, one less thing that I have to worry about. Now, go! I have more patients to attend to," Harewing grumbled, turning back to Petalpaw. "What do you need?"

"I'm not sure, but I have a bellyache,"

"Here," Harewing crammed a few mallow leaves in the way of the young apprentice. "Sorry, I'm running low on herbs. If you can persuade the other apprentices to go out and find me some more herbs, then I might be able to give you some more later tomorrow if your stomach still hurts."

As Petalpaw left, Larkflower crept closer, a bit nervous to ask the medicine cat whether she was expecting kits or not. "So," she started awkwardly. "I was training with my apprentice over on the sandy hills, and-"

"I don't need your whole story, just tell me what's wrong," Harewing mewed, agitated.

"Oh, right," Larkflower trembled. "Am I expecting kits?" She finished, speeding through her words like a minnow darting under the clear waves.

Harewing eyed her suspiciously, taking in every word. "Are you expecting kits?" He echoed, clearly confused. "Of course you're expecting kits! I thought you knew! After all, you're stumbling around all the time and you look like a kittypet with you're fat stomach."
Larkflower was a bit taken aback, she wasn't expecting this answer. "I'm what?"

"Yes, you're expecting. Now, I would suggest getting a piece of fresh-kill and going to lie in your den, or whatever queens do. I do hope at least one of these kits grows up to be a medicine cat. StarClan knows I need the help," Larkflower thought that Harewing was being a bit rude, but she really couldn't argue with him. After all, what would she even say? Stop being rude to your patients?

Larkflower stumbled out of the den and heading towards the fresh-kill pile. Then, remembering how she had scolded Flickerpaw earlier, she decided to go apologise to him before settling down in her nest and sleeping. As she pushed through the vines that were draped over the den to protect it from any freezing winds, she could make out the distinct shapes of three cats in the den.

"Hey, Flickerpaw?" Larkflower whispered hoarsely. "Are you in there?"
She could see Flickerpaw's long striped tail flitting around as if he were standing up. Then, he started walking towards where Larkflower was.

"Larkflower?" Flickerpaw mewed. When he saw her, his expression changed. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. "I thought you were mad at me,"

Larkflower shook her head slowly. "No, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped. I'm just tired and . . . can I tell you something?" She paused long enough for Flickerpaw to reluctantly nod. "I'm expecting kits,"

Flickerpaw gasped and his eyes grew wide. "I'm so sorry that I was mad at you,"

Larkflower wasn't expecting this grovelling behaviour from her stubborn apprentice. Flickerpaw seemed to notice her bewilderment and clarified.
"Shallowpaw was telling me that I should be more patient. She seemed to know that you were expecting,"

Larkflower noticed Flickerpaw's wandering gaze, staring at her round belly.

"Oh, yeah, I wonder why," she mewed sarcastically. Larkflower chuckled and dipped her head to lick Flickerpaw's ears softly.

"I'm sorry, Flickerpaw. I promise I'll be more tolerant with you. Although," Larkflower muttered. "I'm not sure I'll have to keep that promise for very much longer."

"Why? Is it because of your kits?"

Larkflower couldn't help but see the disappointment glittering in her apprentice's gaze.
"
No," Larkflower's tail stood up, proud and excited for her apprentice.

"Because tomorrow, you're going to have your warrior ceremony,"

Flickerpaw's eyes grew wide with emotion and Larkflower leaned forwards to brush against him.

"Congratulations," Larkflower mewed, her voice thick with affection. "You're growing up."