Jayfeather sighed and sank gratefully to the ground outside of his den. He laid his chin on his paws and felt the cold early leaf-bare sunlight on his fur. This was the first time he got to relax since the Dark Forest battle, and he was thankful. The last seven sunrises had been filled with constant patching up wounds, gathering herbs, and cleaning out the medicine den repeatedly. And though there was a small nagging worry about the low herb supply for leaf-bare, he let himself be thankful that he had anything left.
He listened quietly to the camp around him. Brackenfur was finishing the last patching up of the camp entrance, as he had been put on restoring all the dens around the camp and had done a rather impressive job with it in such a short amount of time. Spiderleg and Hazeltail worked beside him, hulling brambles into the camp that they would weave into the entrance. Not far away, Daisy emerged from the nursery with Brightheart's three kits bolting in front of her and quickly engaging in a play fight. Jayfeather's ear twitched as he listened to Poppyfrost's still uneven steps as she limped across the camp, pulling a rabbit across the camp to share with Berrynose.
The camp was slowly returning to a semi-normal routine, and Jayfeather was thankful for it. He wasn't alone in his peace for long though, as he heard a cat pad out of the medicine cat den and settle beside him in the entrance. Their fur just barely brushed. "We should fetch some more goldenrod before the frost gets to it." His ear swiveled as he recognized Leafpool's voice. "And Graystripe's eye is going to need another treatment of celandine before the swelling goes down."
Leafpool had recently moved back into the medicine cat den to help with the injuries after the war, and he was thankful for her help. While he was stuck in his den all day, treating endless wounds, she had gone out of her way to walk back and forth through the territory fetching whatever herbs he needed. She dealt with the smaller cuts and scrapes, soaked moss for him, and treated Amberkit's cough that Jayfeather had been neglecting in his busy schedule. And though he could sense the fulfillment she had gotten from even these small tasks, he could feel her newly arising misery of having to return the warriors den once more.
Jayfeather sighed and murmured a low, "Thank you." He was more tired than anything else. "For everything you've done." he told her.
"Anytime," Leafpool whispered her promise. She hesitated a heartbeat, before bending down and touching her nose gently to his ear. The touch lasted just a heartbeat. Then, she stood up and padded away towards the warriors' den.
With an odd sense of loneliness, Jayfeather stood and returned to his own den. Inside, he could hear Briarlight pawing at a freshly made nest. One of the last tasks Leafpool had done for him was clearing out the medicine cat den completely, a chore which had been neglected for quite some time. Jayfeather took in a deep breath, taking in the smell of the fresh moss and clean air, and padded over to the nest of his own, which was located near the remaining stash of herbs he had.
"It's so much nicer in here now that it's clean." Briarlight commented, settling down in her nest with a happy sigh. "And with no overnight patients anymore, I can finally get a good night's sleep!"
Jayfeather hummed in agreement, though her words bought a bitter sense of loss. One of those patients had been Foxleap, he remembered. The young warrior had recently died just a few sunrises ago, succumbing to blood loss and infection no matter how hard Jayfeather and Leafpool had worked to fight it off. Jayfeather had tried not to let the loss of the warrior get to him too badly, but he knew it was another hard blow for the Clan. Even after the war, the Dark Forest was still taking their warriors. Dustpelt and Icecloud were the ones most affected by the loss.
He pushed these thoughts from his head. You can't save everyone, he reminded himself. Slowly, as he listened to the busy camp outside the den, he drifted off to sleep.
Opening his eyes, he found himself in the middle of the ThunderClan camp, on a snowy leaf-bare day. His paws sank into the cold snow, and his breath billowed in front of his face. There was an odd stillness in the air, in which no sound seemed to reach him whatsoever. There were no Clanmates huddled in dens, no birds flying above the trees, or even pawprints in the snow to give away that there had ever been movement at one point. All was quiet, and all was frozen.
And then, a voice spoke from seemingly everywhere at once. "Just because the Dark Forest is gone, it doesn't mean there is peace. Tranquility never lasts, and a storm must rise again." Visions flashed before his eyes. The first was of a bloody battleground, full of cats with flashing claws and snarling faces. "Blood will be spilt-" A large golden cat- a lion stood over a dead body. "-borders will be broken-" A tiger this time, stalking among the pines, with a brief glimpse of a dove flying high above. "-and forbidden love will rise." This time, a snare of twigs and thorns met his eyes, with a small, blue bird fluttering desperately in the cage-like hold. With no way to escape, it falls to the ground and stares silently upward at its confines, beath coming in hopeless gasps.
And with that, Jayfeather felt the world of darkness slam down on him once more. He awoke abruptly, clambering to his paws immediately and ignoring the exclamation of surprise from Briarlight, who was still awake. He breathed heavily, trying to grasp at the quickly disappearing images in his mind and desperately trying to give them a place and purpose. They had come so quickly, he growled with frustration, how was he supposed to see them properly?
But his frustration only gave way to confusion, and he shook his head irritably. Were his efforts not enough? Was the battle not the end to the pain in the Clans? What more must they go through, and why now, after such a difficult battle and short recovery time? Jayfeather wasn't sure he could keep up.
"Are you okay, Jayfeather?" Came Briarlight's hesitant voice. She had been grooming herself when he had awoken and startled her with his sudden movement.
He took a deep breath and told her, "It was just a dream." He padded out of the den before she could press him with more questions. The open air outside revealed that it was later in the day. Most cats having retreated back into their dens for the night, Jayfeather found that he was almost alone in the camp, save for Whitewing, who was picking prey the last mouse off the fresh-kill pile, and Berrynose, who was that night's guard.
But instead of setting out into the forest like his original intent was, he sat down in front of the den and lifted his face to the sky. Fluffing his fur against the cold, he sat there in the chilly night air and replayed the dream's events in his head.