The sun was starting to set in the Riverclan camp, and the sky had been a clear and peaceful blue throughout the day. A gentle breeze flowed throughout the camp, and without a closer look it would seem all was peaceful.
Only a few cats were out of their dens. A pretty dark ginger she-cat was huddled next to anelderly tortoishell whispering furiously. The two seemed to be deep in a serious discussion. Farther away, near the camp entrance stood a lone battle-scarred she-cat, the sole guard of the camp, her single eye stared out into Riverclan's territory. She shuffled her paws with nervous agitation while she wore an impatient yet worried expression.
The warrior suddenly tasted the air, and urgently called out to the two cats, who quickly ended their whispering.
"Rosestar, they've returned!" She called as she turned her gaze eagerly towards the territory where three cats were returning from a patrol.
A large silver tom with a white muzzle carried in fish in his jaws. He kept his head held high, looking straight ahead while walking past the guard without even a nod. A golden-patched brown tabby walked beside him carrying a small mouse which she dropped in a very small prey-pile. Finally, the third cat, a long-legged apprentice with a cream pelt, came lagging behind the other two, his gaze fixed firmly on his front paws.
Rosestar quickly padded up the returning patrol, her eyes flashing with hope as she greeted the trio.
"Ripplestripe, how did the hunt go?" She asked, casting a wary glance towards the prey pile. Her heart tightened a bit seeing how small it was. As she watched the silver tom drop his fish in the pile, the apprentice passed by the Riverclan leader without a word. Without even a nod of greeting, he stalked into the apprentice's den, shame and despair deep in his eyes.
Rosestar watched him disappear, pity and doubt marked in her expression. The hunt hadn't gone too well. Ripplestripe faced his leader and swished his tail to gain her attention back to the rest of the patrol.
"He's upset that he didn't catch anything." Ripplestrioe explained, gesturing to where the apprentice had vanished.
"It's not his fault... Healthy prey has been hard to find." The darker tabby she-cat cut in, guilt pricking her pelt. "He... He just really wanted to catch something for Daisypaw..."
"Riverclan is lucky. It's affected the fish far less than other prey." A voice broke in from behind the trio. Rosestar looked back to see the elderly tortoishell had followed her.
Ferndapple, the Riverclan Medicean cat, sat a few paw steps away from the group, her tail curled around her paws. Before the pandemic, she was finally about to agree to retire to the elders, but now the clans needed as many Medicean cats as they could get their paws on.
Ripplestripe nodded at her comment. It was true, the fish were far less effected than other prey, despite the fact that they appeared to be hiding away from the disease. He was sure that despite how low they prey pile had been lately, Riverclan was much more fed than the other clans.
"True. I would hate to be Thunderclan right now." He muttered, glancing back towards the entrance of the camp while imagining the rival clan across the lake. "I heard that it has hit them the hardest."
The four cats fell silent after that comment. Though the five clans were all rivals, none of them took pleasure knowing that the other clans were struggling far more than Riverclan.
Rosestar looked hesitantly at Ferndapple. She swallowed as if gaining her nerve before speaking up again.
"Are you certain? Starclan hasn't sent any signs about this illness?" She asked, her heart weighing like stone. She's asked time and time again today alone, but the elderly tortoishell's answer was always the same.
"Nothing. They have been silent since the first signs began appearing." Ferndapple murmured, hanging her head low. None of the clans could believe that their warrior ancestors would leave them with no answers to this illness. Not when so many cats were falling ill. Not when they were dying.
The illness had began a few moons ago. It began when a cat in Thunderclan had mysteriously fallen ill. The Thunderclan Medicean cat had never seen an illness like it, and despite trying with several different herbs, nothing would work.
Cats bellies would swell, cracks would appear on their bodies and bleed, sores also being common. It began effecting the prey as well, and any cat that ate the infected prey would come down with the mysterious illness as well. It wasn't long before the other clans began falling ill, and death wasn't far behind. An infected cat would spend days in agony before eventually dying.
The Medicean cats had done their best working together to try to find some method that would cure it. They experimented and shared herbs, and had even journeyed to two-leg place to ask the kittypet for information out of desperation. Nothing worked, and no one had been reported to have had contact with Starclan since the outbrake. It felt like their ancestors had abandoned them all to die.
Now that a few moons had passed, the amount of healthy warriors had fallen. Rosestar had even heard reports that some cats were afraid to even exit their dens for fear of contracting the disease. The clans were losing hope, and if there was not a sign soon...
"Ferndapple, we're running out of moss." A small gray she-cat called, exiting the Medicean den. Laketail was the other Riverclan Medicean cat, and she wore a very tired expression. Her pelt was a mess and her eyes were dark and had the hunt of a glaze. She had hardly slept in days.
Ferndapple nodded quietly at her apprentice. She slowly stood up, her old bones creaking softly. "I understand... Rosestar, can you please send someone out to collect some?" She asked while walking towards the Medicean den without waiting for a reply. "I'll take over from hear Laketail, get some rest." She murmured quietly to her former apprentice as she passed her. Laketail hesitated for a moment before nodding half-heartedly and padding back within the Medicean den aswell.
Left alone, the three warriors gazed at each other, they're gazes darkened. Riverclan couldn't last much longer like this. Something needed to change, and soon.
"I'll go search for the moss. Ripplestripe, can you ask one of the other warriors to guard the camp? I'll take Birchscar with me." Rosestar mewed, nodding towards the heavily scarred warrior currently guarding the camp.
"Of course Rosestar." Ripplestripe said, dipping his silver head to his leader. Rosestar padded towards Birchscar, and after a few moments of discussing, the two made their way out of camp.