WITHERING HERBS || A Warriors Fanfiction

|| chapter fifteen

"We're fine."

The grumbly growl echoed through the clearing. Surprised eyes flashed nervously as cats glanced around at each other. Heatherstar and Robinstar looked down at the cats of SquirrelClan, their eyes switching from cat to cat. Owlpaw looked through the minimal cats who staggered their way in, searching for only one cat.

His golden-yellow gaze was met with pelts that were unkempt and dirty. It seemed as if they hadn't been groomed for days. Their eyes shone with exhaustion, though they dulled under the bright light of the full moon. Fur prickling, Owlpaw watched as Yellowstar hauled herself up onto her branch, sitting down and curling her tail curtly over her paws.

Stonestar blinked, shaking his head.

"This is the Gathering," he announced, his tail swishing behind him. "I would like Yellowstar to speak first."

She sighed softly, the noise quiet and indistinguishable. The she-cat stood up, her piercing green eyes surveying the cats of the Clans, tail waving absently behind her. She took in a deep breath as if she was inhaling all the confidence in the world.

"SquirrelClan has been battling the sickness in the past moon," Yellowstar meowed evenly, her gaze dropping to her paws. Her voice grew quiet, soft, and gentle. "Despite Shrewfoot's efforts to try and cure the disease, Whitepaw has succumbed to it."

A small murmur of collective "I'm sorry" rang through the clearing.

Owlpaw felt as if the world was spinning around him.

Whitepaw is dead?

Blinking, he refused to believe it. His only friend, the only apprentice in the other Clans, was gone. His shoulders sagged, his eyes darkening. He felt a silky tail lay gently on his shoulder, but he could barely feel the kindness it carried. Feeling as if he was sinking deep into a corner, a hole, of despair, his yellow-golden gaze flicked to his paws. 

Studying them, he soon closed his eyes, feeling grief overwhelm him. He would never see Whitepaw's well-groomed calico pelt bouncing around at the Gatherings. He'd never see her happy again, her bright gaze lit up with excitement.

His dark gaze returned to the leaders and medicine cats.

Shrewfoot looked as if he, too, had fallen into the hole. His eyes were dark and shadowy as if protecting the secrets he had endured while attempting to cure her.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save her," Shrewfoot's voice crackled uneasily and Owlpaw flinched.

Stonestar stood up immediately, as Yellowstar sat down, resigned.

"That means Owlpaw is the only apprentice left in all of the Clans."

The apprentice hadn't even realized it till now. His eyes widening, he shrunk beneath the many gazes that switched towards him.

"Wait, where's Meadowdapple-?"

"Meadowdapple, unfortunately, passed away. She was pregnant with kits and she died in the kitting. The kits died due to the powerful grip of the sickness... Hazelberry tried her best but unfortunately, without a cure, she was unable to help... But we are... we are strong," he continued, his voice growing loud and booming, strong and powerful, "Owlpaw is the only apprentice and he is doing very well."

The cats of all Clans gave a small cheer and Owlpaw shrunk farther against the ground. Did they really think he was that... great? Did they think he contributed that much to the Clan?

He smiled, straightening.

"Thank you," Dipping his head to the cats around him, he gave a small purr. Sedgestorm nodded approvingly.

"I will go next," meowed Heatherstar. Her gaze was brightened and light. Stonestar inclined his head, withdrawing as he sat down.

Her gaze traveled along the cats, and then she flicked an ear, her gaze glancing upwards. Owlpaw, curious, tilted his head up, his yellow-golden eyes trained on the black sky. There was a small cloud inching closer and closer towards the moon.

Confusion flickered through him. 

What in StarClan's name is happening?

There was no fighting. Heatherstar began to speak, but Owlpaw's gaze was stuck on the sky. Straining to hear, he listened for any words that any cat would be angrily muttering. But he could not hear a thing.

The scent of sickness seemed to surround him and he flinched, shaking his head. Glancing back at the black sky, he spotted the whispy cloud drifting over the moon. His fur prickled, the smell of sickness overwhelming him. It clogged his senses, shoving itself into every place in his mind until all he could think about was the sickness and the clouds inching over the moon.

What's going on? This must be in my head. Of course it is. Nobody is fighting. 

The thoughts drifted through his head and his neck fur absently rose. Then, he felt a tail on his shoulder. His head snapping to the side, he realized Stonestar was next to him, the leader's eyes shimmering with concern.

"...coming? Owlpaw?"

He only caught the end of his leader's words. 

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Owlpaw murmured, shaking his head. His gaze traveled up to the dark, night sky, and spotted the moon, now completely clear of any clouds. The bright stars next to it twinkled, smiling down at him.

Standing up, he turned to see his Clan standing at the entrance. He'd missed out on the rest of the Gathering. He trotted swiftly over, his tail waving behind him as a few cats called out goodbyes. He recognized Thrushpad's voice, along with a grumbly Troutfur. Nutgaze's crackly voice called out a farewell, followed by a soft "see you!" from Sorrelflame and Mousewhisker.

MudClan filed out of the entrance to the Gathering. Sedgestorm and Owlpaw padded along at the rear.

"Did you hear what Heatherstar said? She said barely anything about her Clan, only about you and the... the kits, plus a bit about Whitepaw. She was just avoiding the topic... I don't think her Clan is as well off as she's putting out."

The words drifted from his Clanmates, soft and quiet. He couldn't tell who was speaking; the voices blended together into a mixture of gentle and sharp points of speech. Soon, he realized they came upon the camp.

The cats of MudClan filed in as smoothly as they'd left the Gathering. Stonestar and Hazelberry headed straight for their dens, as did his mentor. Heronleap appeared to already be asleep. Flintpath soon followed Sedgestorm into the warriors den. 

Frowning, Owlpaw headed for his own den, curling up in his nest. He noticed there were two extra nests in the den. They were small, only small enough for a newly apprenticed cat. The moss looked fresh and clean, with no water droplets on top of the shadowed moss.

Scenting one of the nests, he wasn't sure what it was. It smelled faintly like metallic blood, and he flinched backward, touching his muzzle to the other nest. It also smelled identically like the other one, the same tang of crimson blood. Detecting a bit of cat scent, he flicked his whiskers. 

He couldn't identify the cat. It didn't smell like anyone who he knew, or recognized. Placing his muzzle on the other nest again, he closed his eyes and searched for any kind of clue. One nest reminded him of a simpler, happier time, without the constant threats of...

The sickness.

He scented both nests again, his ears flattened.

The nests smelled exactly like the sickness.