Fleecepelt trembled inside of the den, his breath becoming shallow and his eyes becoming red. Pulsating, twisting, turning and fearful. His mouth was opening and closing as he struggled to breath, the warm air seethed around him, encouraging him to sleep into broken nightmares. He struggled upward, trying to relieve his brain by moving about more. He felt like his whole body would sag down any moment and he was scared of his fate. He whimpered angrily, and then kicked the nearest object in frustration. He panted, his paws going one before the other. It was an effort. He grunted, he growled, and finally, he was out. The midnight air was hot, and flies buzzed around his head annoyingly. He flicked his ears to dismiss them, and walked over to the water-soaked moss. His tongue lapped it up gratefully, but he wondered if he was doing injustice to his Clan-mates. He wasn't sure how long he would last, and if he would even survive.

He had been diagnosed with ''Flower Fever''. It was new to to the Clans, so they hadn't an idea of what to do for him. They simply tried to make him as comfortable as possible even though he was very, very ill and had barfed up small specks of blood numerous times that day. It was named Flower Fever, because the victim had severe headaches and colds, and they also had some type of cancerous growth in their skin just over the lung that was shaped like a flower. The cats did not know how this could be contagious, since they had grown considerably smart and knew that it was the mass reproduction of cells, so confusion had swept over the Clans- until a smart medicine cat named Cloverstorm had proposed the idea that it could be a parasitic worm-like creature or even a plant that fed off of living things. The Clans had agreed, and came to the conclusion that all cats diagnosed with Flower Fever must stay away from their Clanmates. It was thought that the parasite could make it's offspring travel through the air and into other cats easily, so the only cat that was able to greet the infected from time to time was the medicine can, as long as they wore protective substances or didn't meet with the infected face-to face. Fleecepelt's medicine cat was called Tansy-eye, and he was not so sympathetic to most, but was unusually kind to Fleecepelt, mainly because his ''infection'' if you would like to call it that, was very agonising and deadly.

Fleecepelt's head somehow darted upward as he heard the noises of other cats. He stared into the dark and saw the reflecting eyes of Driftclaw, who snorted angrily at him.

Fleecepelt was genuinely taken aback; no other cat was so hostile towards him.

Fleecepelt used to be known as Driftclaw's rival for the deputy position and the two had fought each other over the coming seasons until Fleecepelt had grown ill.

Driftclaw's mouth opened, and the flesh from his torn face was ugly and intruding.

A snarl echoed.

''Hey there Fleecepelt.'' He sneered. ''How are you doing? Feeling good I hope. Coward.''

Hot, searing rage fought it's way through Fleecepelt and his heart pounded painfully though his chest, so that he had to swallow a few times before replying.

''Piss off.'' He hissed, trying to put his rage all through one sentence.

''Oh? I don't think you're in any shape to tell me that, Fleecepelt. You know how much I hate you. And if you charge at me, you'll hurt your internal organs AND I'll rip you to shreds.''

Fleecepelt hadn't the energy to say anything more, so she simply barked almost quietly

''And you know what?'' Driftclaw jeered. ''Your girl is mine now. She's a pretty one. She is so upset about you- she knows you're going to die painfully, so she wants to get away from the thought of you as much as possible. Goes to show how much she cared for you.'' The sarcastic tone of him made Fleecepelt rip the grass with his claws.

''Now go and die by yourself, don't make anyone depressed about it, or you'll be in Starclan with a guilty conscience.''

With that, Driftclaw bounded away.

Fleecepelt had never felt more hurt, that even included the time his ear was severed.

He turned around with a heavy sigh.

No one except Tansy-eye cared for him, which didn't account too much.

His face lowered, and before he could stop himself, he sobbed angrily.

He had done many terrible things before- he had raped a Clanmate and had attacked a kit, yet still his Clanmates had held on to him. Maybe it was because they had something in mind for him, but now that he was ill, they tossed him away like used bedding.

He sure was guilty, just like Driftclaw said, and he was very scared- he knew that he would go to the Dark Forest, and Driftclaw was right in calling him a coward.

He felt like he should just give up and commit suicide for all his sins, but he wanted to watch himself die agonisingly, so that wasn't an option.

He stared blankly at the wall of the medicine den, and heard the familiar mew of Tansy-eye as he arrived back.

He waited for him to slip through the rocks, then turned around to say hello.

''Fleecepelt.'' The medicine cat said with his gruff, deep tone.

''Rollfeather is pregnant. The cat you had raped.''

Fleecepelt felt his heart burst again, he struggled to stay calm, yet his eyes still grew wide.

Rollfeather was the sister of his mate, Growlwhisker.