Snowstone's Sacrifice
"Spottedfern, why would you help RiverClan!" yowled Snowstone. Her grey and white fur was stained with the blood of her best friend.
"Because I had to!" growled Spottedfern. Her mottled tan fur was missing tufts where Snowstone had clawed them out. "You mustn't tell anyone!"
"Why shouldn't I?" snarled Snowstone. Her tail lashed angrily; it was all she could do to keep from slashing at Spottedfern.
"You're my best friend, Snowstone," whimpered Spottedfern, "Please don't tell."
Snowstone shook her head wearily. "I won't betray your secret. But I can't be friends with a traitor."
Spottedfern looked crestfallen, but she nodded weakly. "I... I understand," she whispered. She padded away into the reeds by the river bank.
Snowstone watched her, longing to run after her. But she was a loyal ThunderClan cat, and her mother, Wildmane, would be furious if Snowstone tried to help an enemy Clan. She turned and bounded into the forest, determined to find prey for her sister, Flamestripe, who was about to have Rabbitrun's kits. She stalked through the thin leaf-bare undergrowth, searching for a mouse or vole to bring back to camp. She was about to give up when a rabbit burst from a nearby bush, spraying snow everywhere. Snowstone gave chase, tearing through the white fluff after the fleeing creature. With one final leap, she sank her claws into the rabbit's back. It kicked wildly, but was no match for Snowstone's sharp teeth. She killed it with one bite to the throat. Though it was not the most graceful of kills, it would feed her sister, so she headed back to camp.
When she returned, she found Gingerwhisker waiting for her. The fluffy warrior purred and rubbed his face against hers. She dropped he prey on the fresh-kill pile and hurried over to tell him about hunting. But there was a yowl from the nursery, and she saw Spottedleaf shoot out from the medicine cat den, followed closely by Featherwhisker. She ran across the clearing to the nursery and forced her way inside. Flamestripe was clawing at the floor, her ears laid flat, her usually gentle face a mask of pain. Rabbitrun was whispering rapidly in her ear, trying to soothe her, but another wail escaped her jaws.
"The first kit is coming!" cried Spottedleaf.
Flamestripe gasped, and her breathing steadied. She turned to gaze at her first kit.
"It's a she-cat!" said Rabbitrun proudly.
Flamestripe bent to lick her dry. Soon her ginger and brown pelt was fluffy and dry. The tiny kit mewled and wiggled to her mother's belly, searching for milk. Snowstone looked at her kin fondly. She looked just like her great-grandmother, Brushfire of RiverClan. Another connection to those fish-faces, thought Snowstone. Her belly twisted uncomfortably, and she stumbled outside. She gulped the cold air, willing her stomach to settle. She shook her head to clear it, and then went to find Gingerwhisker. She couldn't find him in camp, and eventually found Wildmane. She was emerging from the nursery, her amber eyes glowing with pride.
"Snowstone!" she called. She hurried over to her other daughter. "Is something wrong?" she asked, the pride quickly changing to concern.
"N-no," sputtered Snowstone. But she felt dizzy and sick, and stumbled to the dirtplace. She shuddered as she wretched onto the frozen ground. She dragged herself back to the clearing, and all was darkness.
She awoke much later, for faint moonlight was filtering through the roof of the medicine cat den. Her belly still felt weak, and she sat up slowly as to avoid being sick. She spotted Gingerwhisker curled up nearby, his breath ruffling the fur of his paws. She also detected the faint scent of Wildmane, and of Flamtestripe, who must have left her kit to come see her. Her side suddenly cramped, and she growled. Gingerwhisker jerked awake, and Spottedleaf appeared at her side.
"Tell me what hurts," she said calmly, placing a cool paw on her ribcage. Snowstone tried to relax.
"My-my side," she said through gritted teeth, "And my belly feels weak."
Spottedleaf nodded and disappeared into the crevice in the rock behind her. She came back a moment later with a bundle of herbs.
"You have a fever," she said, "So eat this." She gave Snowstone some feverfew, and had her eat a few poppy seeds. Gingerwhisker licked her rhythmically between the ears, and soon Snowstone fell asleep.
She did not wake until sunhigh the next day. She blinked in the bright sunlight. She felt better, and Spottedleaf told her to go lay in the sun while she fetched some clean bedding. Snowstone padded into the snowy clearing and chose a dry spot near the nursery. She heard the soft purring of mothers and their kits, and felt a deep unrest. She wanted kits, but she wasn't sure if Gingerwhisker was ready. She didn't even know if she was ready.
Gingerwhisker appeared at the entrance of the thorn tunnel, carrying a vole. He spotted her and padded across the clearing.
"Do you want to share?" he asked, his orange eyes hopeful.
"Always," she purred. He settled down next to her and they shared the vole. It was fat, even by leaf-bare standards, and there was plenty for both of them.
"Can we walk?" he asked once they had finished. She nodded, and followed him out of the thorn tunnel and into the forest.
They had gone a good distance when Gingerwhisker flicked a pawful of powdery snow in her face. She crouched down and wiggled her rear before pouncing on him. They tumbled in the snow and he pinned her in a large drift.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you too," she said.