Warriors: Silent

16

      "Needlepelt!" Frostpaw cried, racing towards the collapsed tom, who groaned as she prodded his flank with her muzzle.

  "What's wrong?" Frostpaw asked desperately, relieved Needlepelt was awake, at least partially, but he only moaned incoherently in response.

  Frostpaw scanned the cats body frantically, and swollen hind leg snagged her attention. Had he been stung by something?

  Frostpaw gawked anxiously ahead of her in the direction of camp. Her claws itching, Frostpaw wondered if she could run to camp fast enough to find Dawnheart. She'd have to bring the medicine cat here though, then they would need to go back to camp again... and what if Dawnheart is out?

  Frostpaw looked back towards the ground, where Needlepelt lay panting in the exhausting greenleaf air. A puddle of saliva had formed under his lips. Even if the chill shade of the pines weren't enough to keep Needlepelt cool in this state, the sun will dip behind the trees soon.

  A small red speck caught Frostpaw's frenetic eye. Something tiny was crawling on Needlepelts coat. Ants! Frostpaw's heart stopped upon noticing more and more of the angry insects infesting Needlepelt's tired body.

  Abruptly, Frostpaw took Needlepelt's scruff in her teeth and dragged him forward. His body felt limp and heavy in her grip, but she had no choice but to heave him away. She couldn't watch such a stubborn cat get eaten alive by irratic red dots. Not to mention the mosquitoes that would come at dusk.

  Frostpaw trudged forward, angling herself awkwardly as not to step on Needlepelt. Distressed, she forced her head high, trying with all her might not to drag all of Needlepelt in the dirt. But he was bigger than her, and the task was virtually impossible.

  A hundred thoughts raced through Frostpaw's mind. Fearfully, she wondered if she could make it back to camp in time. Would Needlepelt die in her jaws? What if she returned to camp with his lifeless body gripped in her teeth?

  What if she'd made a poor decision to drag him back home? Should she have moved him to a safe, shady area, and run ahead?

  Frostpaw's entire body felt hot, not only from the unforgiving heat, but from the weight of the warrior. Already, her neck was shaking under Needlepelt's dead weight.

  Refusing to release the tom, with trembling legs, Frostpaw pushed onward.

  She pressed her eyes closed, putting all of her focus into putting one paw in front of the other. What had Needlepelt been doing so far away from camp? With Mothstar dead, he's the oldest cat in the Clan!

  Frostpaw's pounding heart skipped a beat. Would Needlepelt be joining their old leader in StarClan? She froze in her tracks upon the serious thought of losing another Clanmate.

  No! Frostpaw all but yelled. Then, after adjusting her grip on Needlepelt's scruff, she continued towards camp.

  She forced her head high, just as Cricketlegs had urged her to when carrying moss for the queens. But even with the practice, a fully grown tom was exhausting to carry for such a small cat, and Frostpaw almost became afraid of her lungs bursting.

  How much further? Frostpaw asked herself. By this point, she could hear little more than the blood pulsing violently in her hot ears, and her neck felt like it would snap under Needlepelts heavy weight. Slowly her head dropped more and more as she toiled ahead, weaving through the brambles, and dragging Needlepelt around collapsed branches she had no hope to climb over with the tom in tow.

  Lightheaded, Frostpaw scanned the forest. She had past Hive Tree by now, surely. She was so close to camp she could taste it.

  Just as she had tasted the rabbit that got away, Frostpaw realized in defeat. She couldn't catch the rodent in time, how could she possible drag Needlepelt back to camp?

  Frostpaw's short legs felt like they would give out any moment, and she was all but certain her lungs were bleeding. Was Needlepelt even still alive?

  Barely able to register her name being called over the roaring in her ears, Frostpaw's eyes threatened to roll back into her head. Unable to go on anymore, she released her grip on Needlepelt, where he fell limply into the undergrowth. Wheezing, Frostpaw's head hung over the tom while she swayed, eyes closed, where she stood.

  Trembling, Frostpaw opened her eyes again to spot Buckheart, Littlepaw, and Whitestar bounding towards her. She watched the cats warily, almost afraid they were a hallucination. "Frostpaw!" Buckheart called.

  "We need to get back to camp!" Whitestar ordered.

  Buckheart nodded, and being the strongest cat in the group, took Needlepelt spit-covered scruff in his own mouth, and lifted the limp tom with ease.

  "What's happened?" Crowfur demanded.

  "Needlepelt's... leg..." Frostpaw wheezed, grateful she no longer carried Needlepelt's weight in her cramped jaws.

  Whitestar pressed his flank into Frostpaw as they rushed back to camp, supporting her weight. Buckheart and Littlepaw raced ahead, slipping into the camps entrance.

  Frostpaw and Whitestar followed soon after, the camp's frightened eyes watched the commotion.

  "To Dawnheart." Whitestar ordered as Frostpaw began to wobble to the apprentice den, but his voice seemed far away. He guided Frostpaw into the medicine den, where Dawnheart was already working over Needlepelt.

  Barely glancing at the approaching cats, Dawnheart flicked her tail towards an empty nest on the wall opposite of Needlepelt's. Whitestar took the cue and took Frostpaw to the bed, where she laid and struggled to catch her breath. Buckheart rushed forward and anxiously licked Frostpaw's forehead.

  "Needlepelt's been bit by a rattlesnake." Dawnheart said to Whitestar and Crowfur as she pulled some yellow flower off her shelf of herbs. She began to chew the flowers into a paste, rubbing it on Needlepelts swollen leg.

  "Will he be okay?" Whitestar asked, watching Needlepelt's body.

  Dawnheart watched Whitestar with a steady gaze. "Needlepelt has been healthy and well-fed for the last several moons. The snake probably only gave him a warning bite." She began, then her eyes darkening, "But Needlepelt is old. I'll do what I can, but his future is StarClan's decision."

  Riverpelt, Cricketlegs, and Mosspaw poked their heads into the den. "I've just heard!" Riverpelt wailed, racing towards her daughter. "Is my kit okay?" She asked with frightened, wide eyes.

  Dawnheart nodded slowly, "She will be, but I need space to work."

  Riverpelt dipped her head in understanding, and after nuzzling her daughter, she promised to visit the following dawn.

  Whitestar herded the cats outside. Frostpaw could barely register their tails disseapearing into the blinding sunlight outside the den when her head dropped.