Now I'm nervous and I shouldn't be.
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Brackenstep twisted his paw, deftly flicking another silvery trout out of the water. Cedarpaw twitched his whiskers as the resulting splash brushed against his muzzle. His father had suggested that he might like to train alone today, and Cedarpaw hadn't felt like arguing about it.
So, fishing it was. With all the awkward silence, pelt-pricking tedium, and deep, dark water that activity entailed. Decidedly not one of Cedarpaw's favourite ways to pass the time.
"Just like that, you see?" Brackenstep purred, gesturing towards his catch. "Remember not to let the fish spot your shadow. Then it's all about having quick paws!"
Cedarpaw nodded as if he'd been paying attention, even though he really hadn't. "Yeah, I've got it, dad."
"Give it a try, then," Brackenstep suggested. "You're getting better. I'm sure you'll catch something."
Resigned, Cedarpaw carefully positioned himself beside the river in such a way that he wouldn't cast his shadow over it. He thought he caught the sound of rustling over the border, but he forced himself to focus on the fish flitting back and forth beneath the current. One that had been moving more slowly than the others came to a brief rest in some shade.
Caught you!
Biting down his reluctance, Cedarpaw thrust his forepaw into the chilling water. He felt his claws hook through slippery scales. The thrill of the hunt had enthralled him now, and he tugged with all the fervour of a predator intent on the kill.
"Well done!" Brackenstep observed, tail raised high with pride.
"Thank you," Cedarpaw replied simply.
Though he couldn't suppress the warm feeling spreading through his chest as he carefully set his fish alongside his father's. It was almost enough to make him forget about how wet his front legs were. Almost.
"We'd best be getting back to camp," Brackenstep decided. "This is a fine haul, but fish won't stay fresh out here in the sunlight."
"Right," Cedarpaw agreed.
While the whole fishing businesses made them more trouble than they were worth, Cedarpaw had to admit the odd, scaled creatures didn't taste too bad. So he allowed himself to draw in some of the tempting prey-scent as he lifted his catch into his jaws. Brackenstep playfully brushed his shoulder before leading the way back towards RiftClan camp.
They hardly made it away from the bank of the river, however, when the sound of paw steps sent them both on high alert. Across the water, on the edge of the SpiderClan border, was Amaranthpaw. The petite calico's pelt was fluffed up in odd places, as if she'd slept at a funny angle.
"Cedarpaw, hello," she greeted him kindly, albeit in the sort of tone that suggested she was tired. "It was... you who came and said hello to me at the last Moonshine Conclave... right?"
Cedarpaw dropped his fish with a squishy thump. "Yeah, that was me. You had to get back to your Clan before we could talk much, though."
I'm surprised you remember speaking to me at all, considering you could hardly keep yourself on your paws!
"Oh, I'm sorry," Amaranthpaw replied sheepishly. "I've just had my paws really full lately. It's even worse since Frondshade has gotten sick..."
"Your mentor is sick?" Brackenstep repeated. "No wonder you look like you haven't slept in a moon... Don't you have any cat helping you keep up?"
"Most of them don't have any experience with healing herbs, or they're already getting sick themselves," Amaranthpaw admitted. "I'm doing my best, really I am! But I wish AzureClan would tell me what to do..."
"You know what kinds of herbs there are and how to use them, don't you?" Cedarpaw pointed out. What does AzureClan have to do with it?
"Have you figured out what herbs to use to cure whatever this illness is?" Brackenstep added more gently.
"Poppy seeds seem to keep them calmed down." Amaranthpaw fixed her gaze between her forepaws. "I'm sorry. I don't know what else to do for them at the moment."
"What kind of symptoms make it so you'd need to... calm them down?" Cedarpaw blurted.
"Nothing, I mean, they aren't dangerous really," Amaranthpaw assured him quickly. "It's just... there's something not right with the cats who catch this illness. I hate the idea of just letting them stay uneasy."
"Cedarpaw! Come on, we're needed back at camp!"
Brackenstep's abruptness left no room for argument. Still gaping due to having parted his jaws halfway towards forming a response, Cedarpaw awkwardly dipped his head to Amaranthpaw. Though the gesture was clumsy, it allowed him to both bade her farewell and snatch his prey back up at the same time.
"May the Stars guide you," Amaranthpaw called after him.
Cedarpaw couldn't help but notice that while her voice was warm, there was something strangely flat about that remark.
***
"Go add your fish to the fresh-kill pile," Brackenstep ordered, flicking his tail simply. "I need to speak with Ravenmoon."
Cedarpaw nodded, though his head was spinning with curiosity. He practically raced across the camp, desperate to free up his tongue. There were too many questions dancing on the tip for him to contain them. In fact, he was so caught up in those questions, that he didn't even notice himself barrel into a dark-furred Clanmate.
"Great Stars, where's the battle?" Littlefoot teased, whiskers twitching with amusement.
"Sorry!" Cedarpaw squeaked, although the response was muffled. He quickly dropped the scaly culprits at the fresh-kill pile's edge. "I was distracted. Something weird is going on, and I want to ask Brackenstep more about it!"
"Must be important to have you this worked up," Littlefoot observed. "Haven't you been hunting all morning? Why not slow down a minute and have something to eat first?"
Cedarpaw considered her words. Now that his head was cleared, he had to admit that getting something to eat wouldn't be an awful idea. Then again, he couldn't risk Brackenstep getting away before letting him know what Ravenmoon had to say. Torn by the indecision, he pawed absentmindedly at the ground. He almost immediately recoiled as his paw pads were met with something slimy, cold, and wet.
...Has some cat been for a swim?
He glanced down, expecting to see watery tracks or a trail of mud. But the only thing at his paws was a blackbird some cat had dropped off. Confused, he touched his nose to the thing, only to jolt back with shock.
The blackbird felt cold. Not the normal fading of heat as the freshness began to wear thin through its slow transition to rot-food. Cold like the river in leaf-bare was cold. Cold like the swirling, black mass of drowning water from his dream had been. Cold like death.
The feathers... they're... dripping?
He shook his head, blinking to readjust his eyes. He must have been seeing things. Letting his hunger make him think stupid things. Bird feathers weren't like water, they didn't drip, and they certainly weren't chilling to touch.
Stop being such a kit. Just pick a piece of prey and eat it, then you'll have your head straight again.
Turning back to the fresh-kill pile, he realised that it wasn't just this bird. Every bird was a deep, ebony black that slowly dripped like liquid poppy seeds. Once again, for a brief moment, he was drawn back to the memory of his nightmare.
Once again, for a brief moment, Cedarpaw found himself flailing helplessly in the water.
"Cedarpaw?"
Stumbling on his paws, Cedarpaw turned to face whichever cat had spoken. Littlefoot was still there and staring at him, eyes round with concern.
"Y-Yes? What is it?" Cedarpaw dug his claws into the earth. Just earth. He wasn't drowning.
"Are you feeling alright?" Littlefoot pressed gently. "You looked as if... you were somewhere else for a moment. I can fetch Swallowfall."
"No," Cedarpaw snapped sharply, quickly regretting it. "Thank you, but I'm fine. Really."
"At least take something to eat," Littlefoot insisted.
"Later, maybe," Cedarpaw mumbled evasively. "I'm not hungry right now. There's something too important to do first."
He spun around before the sleek black molly could question him further. He didn't know how to explain himself. He wasn't sure he wanted to.
There's only one place I can think of where I might be able to snap myself out of this.
As if drawn by some inexplicable force, his paws led him back towards the camp entrance. What was it Hollypaw had given him before? Something green and bitter. But it had relaxed him enough to allow him to fall asleep. Swallowfall would know what it was, she would probably have more of it somewhere.
...Only I don't want to talk to her. She asks too many questions.
Cedarpaw's head was aching enough already. He could just about vaguely remember what the herb had smelled like. That would probably be enough for him to find some on his own, without the need to bother any cat.
"Let all cats old enough to scale the ravine gather beneath the Meeting Perch to hear my words!" Ravenmoon's yowl broke out suddenly across the clearing.
Sighing huffily, Cedarpaw spun around and began to pad towards the Meeting Perch. Today had started off so well. Now he was all kinds of out of sorts with no idea how to clear his mind.
If AzureClan really does predict fate, they had better have a really good explanation for this.