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A long haired dark red Tom staggered into the clearing as his horrified clanmates watched on. Screeching he collapsed drool sliding down his muzzle as he convulsed green eyes glazed with pain and sickness. Then he went still his struggles over.

A dark gray Tom watched his ears flattened. He could hear the horrified squeals of his kits and could imagine the look of terror on his mates face.

His hope that the clan would survive was beginning to diminish. Daisypetal had told them Starclan had told her that Stormfire and Mousewing had gone with cats from other clans to find a cure for this sickness.

His heart ached for his daughter. Every time he saw her he was reminded of Silverstripe and his lost kits in Starclan. He remembered that day so long ago on the Gathering Island where Silverstripe had kitted and before she became sick.
Hurry Stormfire!

"Rockwillow?" He looked up into the eyes of Nettlewhiskers who's mate Willowfur had died of the sickness.

Rockwillow stood up his yellow gaze on his terrified clanmates. He would be their leader now. He would be Rockstar.

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