Chapter 1.
"Nightwing?"
A voice soft as a feather awoke Nightwing. She blinked away the pain, now glazed in her eyes, and looked at the speaker for a moment. Then she groaned in agony, and then slumped into the dusty ground, revealing a deep gash on her belly. The wound was still oozing blood. Nightwing knew that if this wound weren't taken care of, it would be fatal to her.
The wound was caused by a dark badger, who invaded the ShadowClan camp for prey. It had been an extremely harsh leaf-bare, and every animal in the forest was starving. It was same for the badger, who was driven by starvation into the ShadowClan camp, and left the camp destroyed. But Nightwing tried not to think about that. She needed to concentrate on tending her belly wound. She reached to grab burdock root and cobwebs, but the voice interrupted her for the second time – this time, even louder.
"Nightwing, do you hear me?" She turned to see who was talking to her, but it wasn't needed. From the scent, Nightwing immediately recognized her apprentice, Whitepaw. Her fear-scent were so strong, a Twoleg could smell it from Fourtrees. She purred on the thought. "Whitepaw," she began. "We need to talk. I'm –" Her words were cut off abruptly by Whitepaw. "Nightwing, don't try to talk. You'll need to save your strength to recover from the wound." Then she grabbed the burdock roots for Nightwing, but Nightwing stopped her. "No, don't waste the precious herbs on me," she murmured into Whitepaw. "I'm going to join StarClan." By now, her voice were fading away, like mist in greenleaf.
"No, Nightwing," mewed Whitepaw determinedly. "You won't. I won't let you." Her voice wavered, and she bowed her head as if it weighed down with unmeasurable grief. "What kind of medicine cat am I if I couldn't fix a simple wound? Oh, Nightwing, what will I do without you?" She whimpered, and pressed her nose into Nightwing's warm pelt. Nightwing purred slightly.
"Whitepaw," she began. "Before I go, I want to share the most important lesson of medicine cats with you." She sighed with the effort. Whitepaw sat upright, her fur fluffed out around her spine. "What is it, Nightwing?" She inquired her softly.
"It is… important… to let cats go… to StarClan… when they can't be helped," she gasped for breath. "It is my time to go, Whitepaw. Go to… Moonstone to… receive your full medicine cat name." Then she sighed in relief, and her eyes gazed into the indigo, blank skies. Whitepaw wailed in grief, then brushed her nose with her mentor's cold pelt. "I won't forget you, Nightwing. Thank you for mentoring me." All of a sudden, Silverpelt drew closer to ShadowClan's medicine den, and one star shined especially brightly toward Nightwing. It sailed soundlessly toward Nightwing, and as it got closer to her, it began to resemble a cat shape.
Whitepaw gasped in shock. "Fawnstep?" The beautiful tabby medicine cat brushed nose with Whitepaw in greeting, and then turned toward Nightwing. She gazed sadly at her. "My friend," she murmured. "It's time to join us." Then she touched her nose with her. Nightwing's spirit rose from her lifeless body gingerly, then looked all around the den. When her eyes met Whitepaw's, she purred. "Remember," she sighed. "We are watching you…" Then two spirits faded away, leaving Whitepaw alone in the den.
Tears began to form on Whitepaw's eyes.