I feel a bit of empathy towards the sick ShadowClan cats. I wrote most of this chapter while ill this past week with an upper respiratory infection (which I suppose is more like greencough than ShadowClan's sickness, but screw that! I used my illness as inspiration for this chapter! NOTHING AGAINST IT. NOTHING.) ... I don't know why I'm being defensive. :'D Uh, maybe it's the fact that I took so long to update again. When was the last time I updated? September?
It's only February. It's not like I took a year.
Anyway. Thank you: MidnightPandaHat, Swiftstar1, anonymous, Spottedclaw21, Dapplepelt, and guitarrawr1 for reviewing!
Chapter Six
Darkwing
The world felt surreal now. Newleaf was here; back home, just like he'd wanted for the past two seasons. Darkwing thought about the last several moons without her home while he curled up in his nest, gazing at the entrance to Nightstar's den. The dark warrior wanted to talk to her when she came out. They hadn't spoken all that much, not really, since their reunion. But that was expected; he'd found her just this morning. So he waited for his friend to pad out of her father's den, but as he did so, his eyelids began to feel very heavy. His trek had taken its toll. He'd gone nearly nonstop all the way past Highstones and back (not counting his rest at Mother Mouth). Darkwing was extremely exhausted, though he still fought to keep his eyes open. Between his illness and his physical exertion, he was ready to pass out.
Drowsiness made his vision blurry. He could see Newleaf pad out of her father's den and saw Marshypool bound toward his friend, but the two she-cats were smears of color in the starry night. They were talking at length about something, that much he knew, but he was so tired. He stayed awake as long as he could, but the last thing Darkwing could remember seeing was the two cats, their frames highlighted by the moonlight.
The black tom started awake as the black-and-white loner picked her way carefully to her old nest next to him. Darkwing had refused to clean out the old moss she'd used as her bedding, and did not let any other cat use the nest. Newleaf's scent still lingered on the moss, and when he was feeling very lonely, he would take in the scent and revel in the memories of his best friend. He always had Littlecloud, that was true, but Newleaf was the one who held them together. Without her, they'd grown slightly apart. Darkwing regretted that, especially since the small brown tabby tom had been his last connection to her.
"Oh, sorry," said Newleaf, bringing him back from his memories. She'd taken a step back and was giving him a tiny timid grin.
"What are you doing here?" he muttered sleepily, holding in a cough.
His friend blinked, not fully understanding the question. "I don't know. You brought me here."
"No, no," he murmured, trying to stay awake. "I meant, why are you in this den? Why didn't you go to where Flamepaw and the others are?"
"Because I don't know where they are," she replied, annoyed.
"There's something called 'scenting the air'. You should try it sometime," he mewed, twitching his whiskers in amusement. He turned his head and let out a single cough, just to relieve himself. "Or have you forgotten how to hunt?"
"No," she snapped defensively, scowling. He could see that she was trying to come up with some scathing retort to put him in his place, but it was late and the black tom could see that the small she-cat was drained. Newleaf only sighed and said,"Now go back to sleep. I only wanted to sleep where I used to."
"I never said you couldn't," Darkwing pointed out, pausing to yawn hugely. "I just thought you might not want to catch the sickness."
"Thank you for your concern," Newleaf meowed wryly, then settled down on her old nest. She curled up, pressing her white fur against his black pelt. Her next words were more sincere, gentler. "But I'm fine here."
He lowered his head and closed his eyes, and for the first time in moons, he felt so… complete with his best friend sleeping in the nest next to him. It was almost as if she'd never left ShadowClan at all. It felt infinitely right. There'd been a draft in the warrior's den for two seasons, and he'd shivered even in the warm weather, missing her warmth. Missing her. Darkwing was heightened by her return, and he slept on a cloud that night.
Ω Ω Ω
He awoke the next morning by nearly coughing his lungs out. The black warrior trembled as the ferocious coughs forced their way out of his mouth, and he caught himself whining in self-pity more than once. He hated feeling weak, hated this infernal sickness, but hating it didn't make it go away.
"Darkwing, stay here," said Newleaf, who'd been awakened by his bout of coughing. Worry was alight in her eyes. "I'll be back with herbs. You just wait."
"Can't go anywhere," he tried to joke.
She nodded and hurried out of the den.
"You're getting worse," Marshypool commented flatly as she padded up to him, frowning. She muttered on, her tone becoming dark and despairing. "Cats always start having huge coughing fits when they get worse. Soon you won't be able to eat. You'll vomit everything you ingest. Then you won't be able to leave your nest, not even to go to the dirtplace. Then you die. I'm surprised Nightstar's still alive."
"Thank you for being so cheery," Darkwing dryly replied. "I –" he coughed. "I prefer not think of myself dying. Or dying in general. I'd really rather not do it."
"You're not the only one. I'm terrified." The tabby she-cat gazed at him, true fear in her gray eyes. "We're so young, Darkwing. So young and we're already fighting for our lives."
"It wouldn't be the first time," he observed, one of the corners of his mouth curling up in a lopsided smile. "More like –" More of that blasted coughing interrupted him. "The third? Fourth? I don't even know anymore."
"But at least I knew I had a fighting chance to make it alive."
"We still do."
"No, we don't," Marshypool spat out bitterly. "We don't and you know it. The whole of ShadowClan will die before we find a cure."
"StarClan promised," Darkwing struggled to say. "They promised we would be strong again. They sent Runningnose a sign saying so."
"When have we ever been strong?" the brown tabby she-cat screeched at him furiously.
Marshypool's words, at least for him, held a ring of truth. He flinched and tried not to think of whether or not she was right. How could ShadowClan bounce back from this? It would take a miracle.
In the time it took to try to form a reply, Newleaf entered the den with a few leaves, her fur fluffed up in anxiety. "It's not enough. Runningnose said it'll only hold off the symptoms for a little while. But you were coughing so hard." Her azure eyes flashed with concern.
"Th-thanks," he spluttered. He licked up the leaves and swallowed them. The coughing subsided.
"I have to go back home," Newleaf murmured. "Have to get more herbs. ShadowClan dying…" she trailed off, staring into space.
"You're beginning to sound like a medicine cat," he teased.
His friend glared at him, but it only lasted a heartbeat before she grinned. "Sounding like one and being one are two very different things."
"I think you have promise," he mewed, stretching and padded out of the warrior's den, his friend following him closely.
"I'm a loner," she reminded him. "Besides, I wouldn't have the disposition to be a medicine cat. I'm too short-tempered."
"Yellowfang was short-tempered."
She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean!"
Darkwing made his way toward the tiny fresh-kill pile and took a frog. He remembered what Marshypool had told him, that soon he wouldn't be able to hold anything down, so he figured he'd eat as much as he could now. He noticed Newleaf's eyes gazing longingly at the frog, but she said nothing as she took a squirrel.
"You want the frog?" he offered, thinking that his friend probably hadn't had her favorite meal in a long time if she was so fixated on his fresh-kill.
She nodded eagerly. "Thank you, Darkwing." They traded prey and she took a huge bite of the frog.
He watched her, whiskers twitching in amusement, until she'd wolfed down the amphibian. The black tom still hadn't taken a bite of the squirrel.
Newleaf licked her lips. "I'd forgotten how good they taste."
"You eat ThunderClan prey now," he teased gently, then bit into his squirrel.
"No, you're the one eating ThunderClan prey," the black-and-white loner retorted, cuffing his ear playfully.
Darkwing forgot his squirrel and pounced on her, biting her ear. She wriggled from under him and nipped his tail. He bowled her over and pinned her, grinning down at her triumphantly. And only then did he realize that he was panting hard, more so than his friend was, and that he was trembling. The dark warrior was exhausted, and it was easy for Newleaf to push him aside. He collapsed on his side, coughing and hacking and gasping for breath.
"Darkwing!" He could barely hear his friend's worried voice, hardly see her for tears in his eyes. "Darkwing!"
Then a new voice joined in Newleaf's; a younger one. "Darkwing?"
"Flamepaw," he rasped. Her russet-colored coat was a blur in front of his eyes. "Go… back."
"No," she snapped. "I'm your apprentice. I let you order me to stay back when you got Newleaf, but I'm not leaving you now."
"He's your mentor, Flamepaw," he heard Newleaf say. "Do as he says. Or get some herbs from Runningnose." But she didn't sound very confident. The medicine cat must have used up most of the herbs Newleaf brought him. Indeed, when his apprentice returned, she didn't bring anything with her. Flamepaw shook her head in frustration.
When Darkwing had recovered enough to scramble back to his paws, Newleaf apologized for causing his fit to occur. She looked out of her mind with worry, and he had to insist it wasn't her fault. Flamepaw was just looking sullen.
"I hate this," she growled. "Watching my Clan die. Watching my mentor die. Watching my family die."
"We all hate it, Flamepaw. But there isn't anything we can do. There are barely any herbs and we don't know the cure for the sickness. If there even is a cure," Newleaf replied, sighing.
"Why can't you help us?" the flame-pelted she-cat accused. "I thought you knew it."
"Flamepaw," Darkwing warned, holding back a cough.
"Shut it, Darkwing," spat his apprentice, then turned back to his friend, padding up to her. Flamepaw's eyes burned with fury. She stalked up to Newleaf and snarled in the loner's face, "Why aren't you saving us? I thought you saved ShadowClan before! Why are you letting us suffer? Why would Darkwing bring you here if you didn't know the cure? I thought you were a hero, but you're just a traitor!"
... I totally get that Flamepaw's outburst at the end there is extremely dramatic. But she just found out her hero is just like everyone else, and it's not really registering.
I don't really like this chapter, but next chapter will be better! /nodnod
Review?
~Coqui's Song
