Warrior Cats: The New Course (STILL UPDATING)

Chapter Eight

Fun fact: in case you have forgotten, Dawnstripe and Volefur were the younger brother and sister of Ripplefur (Silverleaf's mother). However, the two were born from a different litter than Ripplefur's. Therefore, Dawnstripe and Volefur are technically of DarkClan descent, and are also Dewkit and Ravenkit's great aunt and uncle.

Ravenkit sat listlessly in the medicine den, allowing Sweetheart to run her gentle, bristled tongue over her wounds from the thorns that were stuck on her skin the previous day. Her pelt stunk from the poultice that had been rubbed on her scratches, and her raven-black fur was no doubt messy from the herbs and constant grooming.

Sweetheart's voice piped up between licks. "Does it hurt, Ravenkit?"

"Stings a bit," she admitted, "but I'm over it! After all, I'm going to be a warrior. They have worse wounds than this, right?" She absolutely did not want to admit that her muscles ached a bit from yesterday, or else Sweetheart would keep her in the medicine den for a while longer. I just want to return to the camp! she thought gloomily, her eyes trailing around the clearing. Since it was sunhigh, nearly every cat has returned from patrolling or hunting. There was so much more to do than to be in the medicine all day, especially with all those smelly herbs.

The medicine cat let out a sigh, slowly giving a nod of consideration. "If you say so."

"I'm sure—no more pain," Ravenkit tried to convince her. Unlike Dewkit, I can come up with good stories and make them seem true!

"You may go." Sweetheart dipped her head, and returned over Skypelt to massage his broken back leg. She prodded the warrior awake, and his eyes opened sleepily.

"Let's go, Dewkit!" Ravenkit exclaimed as she turned away from them, bounding outside of the medicine den.

Dewkit wobbled upwards, and Sweetheart shook her head quickly. "Oh no, not you, Dewkit!" she snapped, laying him back down as Ravenkit's mouth opened to protest. She had no time to say anything, for the medicine cat had already cut her off. "He took scratches worse than yours. He's in no condition to play, Ravenkit. The only place he's going is to the nursery."

"Tell Sweetheart you're fine!" Ravenkit pleaded to her brother.

Dewkit guiltily shook his head. "I-I can't. My wounds hurt."

Sweetheart herded Ravenkit outside her den, nosing her out into the open. "And since you're not hurt anymore, you can do something else. Perhaps play with the other kits?"

Having no choice but to listen, Ravenkit gloomily walked away. The other kits don't play! she thought with a deep sigh. They're four moons older than me, they're twice as big, and they never want to play with me. Her tail drooped when she spotted them walking to the warrior's den side-by-side. Shadekit—well, he never even played with her before. He was always the serious of the two, not to mention the meaner one. Berrykit, however, use to go along with Ravenkit's games, but had stopped only a few days ago. After all, she was close to becoming an apprentice. She doesn't have time for kit games! Last but not least, Smokekit was still barely out of the nursery, so he couldn't especially do anything fun.

What is there to do? Every cat was too busy to talk or play by the looks of it. She did not want to hear the elders' tales. She especially didn't want to get stuck with the senior warriors and their lectures. She ran all out of schemes—Silverleaf was keeping a close eye on her by the camp entrance where she was speaking to Dropeyes.