//Un//marked

// chapter 4 //

    Another tough day of training. Another slow return to camp, paws dragging against the cold ground. Another visit to the healer's den, shoulder throbbing.

    Lightpaw hated training with Smoketalon.

    The heady scent of lavender made her dizzy as she stepped through the den entrance, suddenly enveloped in a seemingly alternate world. The outside world was cold and fast and dangerous; here, there was nothing but peace and quiet.

    "Just a moment!" Reedpaw must have smelled her. Lightpaw settled into a half crouch, shoulder aching too much to allow her a comfortable position. It felt strained, as if the muscles underneath her speckled fur were threatening to pull apart. The smallest of gashes peered out from beneath a patch of cream, strikingly dark.

    The new healer took one look at her and shook his head. He could no doubt smell Smoketalon's scent on her and, besides that, it was not the first time Lightpaw had visited him after a particularly trying training session.

    "Looks like it'll need something to bring down the swelling," Reedpaw muttered to himself as he examined the scratch. "Maybe something to prevent infection."

    He spoke in questions instead of statements, as if asking her for confirmation. Lightpaw shook her head, unable to give him answers.

    "Is it dock for infections? And marigold for swelling? Or maybe horsetail?" She watched the tabby disappear into the medicine storage, talking to himself. He rustled about before returning with a couple of herbs. He looked very nervous.

    Lightpaw watched as he chewed up a marigold flower, spitting the pulp onto her scratch. A dock leaf followed, covered in cobwebs shortly after to keep the herbs in place. She purred as he finished, hoping to boost his confidence.

    Reedpaw still seemed torn.

    "I'm sure it'll be fine," the she-cat assured him. "If anything, I wrenched it a bit. A bit of rest and I'll be as good as new!"

    The healer shot her a grateful look. "I really don't know what I'm doing."

    "You're without a mentor. I'm sure the rest of the Clan understands that. You're doing the best you can."

    Reedpaw glanced down at his paws. "What if my best isn't good enough for Dawnstar?"

    Lightpaw wrapped a speckled tail around the tom's shoulders. "I'd like to see her try healing her wounded warriors."

    A brief flash of amusement lit up the tom's copper eyes. They darkened quickly. "I wouldn't say that within her hearing if I were you."

    All playfulness gone from between them, Lightpaw nodded. She knew Dawnstar could be dangerous; she'd seen her punish Thistleshade with her own eyes when the warrior she-cat returned to camp without prey for a third day in a row.

    "I'd better get back to sorting," Reedpaw said quietly. "I'm running low on some of the herbs, but I haven't figured out which ones yet."

    He seemed so resigned that Lightpaw nearly offered to help him. Yet, she knew that the tom preferred solitude when he was to get work done so she merely waved her tail at him before limping her way out.

    Heavy clouds had rolled in and the camp looked bleak and dreary despite the fact it was only sunhigh. Lightpaw hoped she wouldn't be asked to join a patrol; the weather and her injured shoulder made her want to sleep until dawn.

    "What's this?" The she-cat groaned as her sister's voice reached her. "Did you trip over your paws again, Lightpaw?"

    The tortoiseshell gritted her teeth. "No, Smoketalon decided to play tough."