chapter thirteen

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Willowdapple shook her head sharply. "Don't. I'm fine."

Adderheart's tail tip twitched absently as he stood and padded a bit closer to her. "Are your kits due soon?" he asked, ears twitching as if threatening to flatten against his skull.

"Supposed to be," she answered, tone clipped.

The pale-furred warrior rose to his paws, unsure of what to do. Exhaustion tugged at his features, causing his shoulders to droop, but he knew that he couldn't leave the she-cat. If she was telling the truth, then, likely, something was to happen soon.

The she-cat's smooth white fur, accented by dark browny-ginger dapples, seemed to rise and puff up, her tail thumping against the ground as if to conceal herself. She notably gritted her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut as she looked away from the senior warrior.

"Should I go fetch...?" he started.

"No," she hissed, edged brown gaze flitting to him. It cut through the warrior like a knife through soft cloth, slicing and heavy against the placid cotton. "I'll be fine."

She's talking like she's about to have kits... The tom's expression tapered as he glanced to the entrance of the den. He could easily go to the leader's den and interrupt the entire conversation that was likely occurring within its heavily guarded walls.

If he interrupted, though, he risked a scolding. But he couldn't put his reputation over the health and safety of Willowdapple and her future kits, could he? Would that show the leader that he had changed, and wasn't that awful cat from before?

"Awful" cat.

He realized soon that the leader would not care, for he only cared about himself, and he wouldn't notice he'd gone and assisted Willowdapple. What could he do? No, that doesn't matter right now. Willowdapple and her litter do. The tom's tail twitched absently once more as he gazed to the she-cat. This is difficult.

Her eyes were closed, yet they managed to open for a half moment, and within her gaze swam pain, sharp and bright. She was obviously hiding it from him, and not very well, clearly. The senior warrior rose decisively. He had to interrupt. He knew nothing about kits.

Would he ever know? Likely not, and now was most certainly not the time for him to learn. Other things had to be dealt with first. Not first. Other things had to be dealt with.

He pivoted upon his paw and skirted toward the entrance.

"H-hey!" cried out the she-cat, slamming a paw weakly down on the ground. "I said don't!"

Adderheart, approaching the entrance, glanced over his shoulder. A spark lit his dark gray gaze and a similar fire lit within her own. His ear twitched absently.

She needed help.

He was doing the right thing.

"I'm sorry, Willowdapple, but you need a healer."

"No!" she exclaimed, voice growing louder. "Don't y-you dare!" Her claws unsheathed and dug into the ground in front of her as she struggled to pull herself to a sitting position.

"I'm sorry," he responded again, dipping his head politely to her, but he slipped from the den and out into the clearing. He could hear the spilling of curses from the mild she-cat's maw, and he shivered, heading to the leader's den.

Adderheart took a deep breath.

Hisses and growls came from the entrance that he approached, infected by irritation and anger. A few feminine tones slipped through the overwhelming deep and low tones of toms, mostly Cougarstar's ugly and furious growl. Only a few clear words were notable.

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