Littlecloud stared down into the hollow, a little disappointed when the only scent of ThunderClan he picked up was stale. They weren't there yet. But at least that meant he could have some more time to clean his fur. Stop it! You are the loyal ShadowClan medicine cat! You can't be thinking about Cinderpelt every second of every day. Thankfully, he noticed that the rain of the past few days, as though sent by StarClan, had cleared away the blood that had once stained the grass, and has washed away most of the lingering scent that had made him feel sick.

He was jerked back to the present when the cats around him charged forward, almost knocking him off his paws, and he was swept into the midst of the RiverClan warriors. He picked his way through the crowd, muttering soft, awkward apologies when he accidentally stepped on tails, until he was finally at the Great Rock. Mudfur, the RiverClan medicine cat, was already seated in his designated spot, sweeping light brown tail wrapped neatly around his paws. He seemed to be staring at nothing, consumed by his own thoughts.

Tentatively, he padded over to Mudfur. He still wasn't entirely used to being a medicine cat, though many moons had passed. It felt strange, almost too good to be true. And that was why he was so conflicted about his feelings for Cinderpelt.

"Greetings, Mudfur," he meowed, pleased when his voice came out sounding cheerful.

The older tom jumped as Littlecloud spoke, but swiftly regained his composure, and smiled up at him, though his eyes were sorrowful, and Littlecloud was reminded of the cat's age. Mudfur dipped his head and gestured with his tail for the small tom to join him. Littlecloud took a seat beside him, now having to look up to meet his eyes. He still cursed his small stature every day, even more so now that he had met Scourge.

Mudfur's gaze swept over the cats in front of him as he spoke. "I see ShadowClan is recovering well after the battle," he commented.

Littlecloud still had to force himself to remember that he didn't have to lie to make his Clan appear stronger than they were to a fellow medicine cat; after so many moons of being a warrior, he had been trained to treat other Clans cordially, to not make friends and to certainly not give them any information they could hold against them. But he didn't have to worry about that now. He nodded, feeling a spark of pride at the thought he had assisted in rebuilding his Clan, "Yes. We're back on our paws, thankfully, though we're still grieving for the dead," He glanced up at Mudfur, "Of all Clans. How's RiverClan?"

Sighing, Mudfur shrugged, looking down at the younger tom, "Leopardstar is still pretty shaken, and, though she doesn't admit it, I can tell she feels guilty for the part she had to play," He shook his head as though to clear his thoughts before continuing, "But, aside from that, we are growing stronger."

Littlecloud blinked sympathetically and flicked the brown tom on the flank with his tail-tip, "Leopardstar believed what she was doing was for the best. No cat blames her, Mudfur."

"We both know that's not true, Littlecloud," he replied with a snort, before adding more seriously, "But thank you nonetheless. ShadowClan is lucky to have a medicine cat like you."

He was overwhelmed by such high praise from the great cat, and for a moment was speechless. He beamed up at Mudfur, hoping the smile on his face wasn't too mouse-brained. But, from the way Mudfur's whiskers twitched, he could tell it was. "T-thank you," he stammered finally, deep blue eyes dancing in the starlight. At least had had done something right.

At that moment, more cats streamed into the clearing, and he spotted Firestar's brilliant flame-coloured pelt and glowing green eyes at the front of the group. Mudfur's voice faded into the distance as Littlecloud searched the ThunderClan ranks, his breath hitching in his throat as he spotted Cinderpelt already making her way towards him. The sight of her pronounced limp made Littlecloud curse Tigerstar, but he had grown to love even that about her. He just hoped Mudfur didn't notice the smitten look that he knew had crept onto his face, but, when he glanced up out of the corner of his eye, he was horrified to see the older tom gazing down at him knowingly. Straightening, Littlecloud cleared his throat and awaited Cinderpelt patiently. Well, not as patiently as he would have liked.

Watching Cinderpelt politely pause to smile and meow a few words to the cats of other Clans, Littlecloud was struck by a startling thought. What if he had lost her? What if she had been killed in the battle, or, worse, what if she had been killed when she had been hit by the monster as an apprentice and he had never met her? A sudden wave of protectiveness crashed down on him, and he had to fight down the growl that rose in his throat. As long as there was breath in his body, he would never let any harm come to her. Inwardly, he knew that was an impossible vow, since they lived in different Clans. He briefly wondered if she would run away with him, but he instantly slashed the selfish thought to threads. What? He screeched in his head, Are you completely insane?

"Littlecloud?"

He was suddenly aware of Cinderpelt's gentle blue gaze eyeing him with concern, and blinked a view times. She was standing in front of him, eye to eye with him as they were the same size, fluffy grey fur holding a particularly beautiful sheen under the moon. He could feel Mudfur watching him too, but didn't dare break Cinderpelt's eye contact. Littlecloud swallowed with some difficulty before smiling and stepping forward to press his nose to hers in greeting, trying his hardest to ignore the sparks of warmth that shot through his body at the contact, to no avail.

"Cinderpelt," he purred happily.

She smiled back, all concern vanishing from her face until she took in his messy pelt. Now she chuckled, circling around him before coming to a halt in front of him once again. "What happened to you?" she asked, voice light and teasing.

"Oh," he felt the skin under his fur grow hot with embarrassment and ducked his head to study his paws as though they were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world, "Er, I sort of tripped and fell when we were crossing the Thunderpath," he admitted, shuffling his paws.

Cinderpelt purred in amusement and reached out with her tail to tap him on the cheek affectionately; he raised his eyes uncertainly, "Careful," she warned, the mocking evident in her soothing, playful voice, "Who will fix you if you hurt yourself?" She was a breath of fresh air at the Gathering, so light and seemingly care-free amidst the rest of the melancholy cats that were still trying to prove they were once again four separate Clans, though he could see in her eyes something was bothering her. He wanted desperately to press himself to her side and ask was it was, but he knew he couldn't do that.

She padded over to sit down beside him, permanently injured hind leg splayed out awkwardly. He could feel the heat of her body radiating off her, and was grateful for it. The air had become icy without his knowing it, but, beside Cinderpelt, he may as well have been sitting on the sun.

Littlecloud opened his mouth to say something, but that was when he noticed Cinderpelt's gaze drift to Firestar, who had his muzzle pressed to Sandstorm's. He saw Cinderpelt's cheerful eyes turn dark and sad as she continued to stare at her leader; he would recognise that look of longing anywhere, and suddenly felt his heart plummet and squeeze painfully. Something he assumed was jealousy clutched his chest, a very unpleasant feeling. She was in love with Firestar. No. She couldn't be. She was his. Littlecloud knew that was a horrible thought, when it was obvious all Cinderpelt wanted from him was friendship, but when he saw how she gazed at Firestar… It was almost too much to bear, and he found himself wishing Cinderpelt was a warrior instead of a medicine cat. Then someone, even if it wasn't Littlecloud, could make her happy. That would be better than having to watch her pine after Firestar, which, as he watched how much it hurt Cinderpelt, also hurt him. He was friends with Firestar. How could this be happening?

Scraping his gaze from Cinderpelt, Littlecloud watched as Firestar leapt gracefully up beside the other leaders, and he realised guiltily he hadn't even noticed WindClan arrive, made worse by the fact that he now saw Barkface sitting on the other side of Mudfur. He couldn't let himself be distracted by Cinderpelt. He wouldn't. Usually, she was a much-needed distraction when he was feeling down, but now the very thought of her made him feel empty. Thoughts whirled through his mind, making him feel dizzy. She loved Firestar. Firestar loved Sandstorm. Littlecloud loved Cinderpelt.

Suddenly, darkness swirled across his vision, and he was made aware of a piercing ache at the back of his eyes. Before he even knew what was happening, Littlecloud felt himself falling, however much he staggered to keep upright, semi-aware of what was happening, and crashed into something soft and warm that instantly darted away. It was like when he had been infected by the disease from the tainted rats of Carrionplace Cinderpelt had cured him of, but not the same. What was happening? Before he had a chance to feel any fear, darkness crashed down over his eyes and he was forced into an uncomfortable, painful semi-consciousness, where voices were muffled and only brief glimpses of fur told him he was still alive.