Shellpaw woke from a dream in which he was stalking a mouse. His ears perked up as he heard something slide through the hay of the horseplace. The silence of the early morning broke even further as a cat broke out in a strong fit of coughing.

Shellpaw groaned and flattened his ears against his head, hoping to drown out the noise. When that didn't work, he groaned again and stood, shaking the hay from his pelt. He shivered as a cold draft entered the horseplace. Just glancing out into the world, he could see that the snow still piled higher than he was tall. Walking outside would be a difficult task; hunting would be even worse.

His nose twitched as he scented mouse. He felt his mouth begin to salivate at the scent. Smiling, he entered the hunter's crouch and began to pad slowly through the den. He could hear the sounds of several mice nibbling on seeds and dry grass throughout the den. He spotted one beneath a pile of hay; it was fat and ready to be feasted upon. Shellpaw inched towards it, already tasting its sweet flesh upon his tongue.

Just as he was about to pounce, Coriander broke into another coughing fit. The mouse darted off into the shadows just as Shellpaw hissed and launched himself at it. He missed by more than a tail-length.

"Fox dung!" Shellpaw cursed loudly.

The young tom glared back at Coriander, who laid coughing beside Smoky's grave. She paid no attention to Shellpaw or his hunting attempts.

"Coriander, if you aren't going to hunt, I have to catch enough for both of us," Shellpaw pointed out, not bothering to hide his annoyance. "Can you please keep quiet for a few moments?"

Coriander glanced back at him with a blank gaze. She then turned to once again face her dead mate's grave.

"Hunt for yourself," she said dryly. "I don't need to eat."

Shellpaw lashed his tail once in defiance, then padded over to her, not even attempting to mask the coming anger. He flicked her ear with his tail, forcing her to look at him.

"Coriander, you haven't eaten anything since I got here, and it's been days. I may not be a medicine cat, but I know you need to eat if you want to survive," he argued.

Coriander lowered her head and rested it gently on top of Smoky's grave. "Who says I want to survive?"

She broke out into another bout of coughing. Now slightly concerned, Shellpaw pressed his nose to her fur. He recoiled immediately as he felt the heat radiating from her pelt. The scent of sickness made him gag.

"You're sick!" Shellpaw realized with a start.

The tortoiseshell she-cat didn't respond. Instead, she continued to lay with her head resting on the grave of her mate. Heat was pulsating from her, but she was shivering. Shellpaw could see her ribs beginning to show beneath her pelt. She was starving herself, which made her even more susceptible to disease. Whatever sickness that had been hanging around the horseplace since Smoky's death was still around, and whatever it was, she had caught it.

Shellpaw's paws itched to run out into the snow and search for Lilacpaw. He knew she would know what to do, and even more, seeing her would make him feel warmer. The idea was idiotic, however. If WindClan caught him on their territory, he would be sent back to ThunderClan before he could say 'mouse.' Shellpaw knew that ThunderClan was no longer his home, so the risk of searching for Lilacpaw was too high. No, Lilacpaw would have to come to them, and he knew that she would eventually. It was only a matter of time.

The only question was, would Coriander make it for that long?

Shellpaw began to pad away from the sickly she-cat. His tail drooped as he thought about what to do. He sat next to his nest and listened attentively for the sounds of mice skittering around in the shadows. When he detected a couple of them, he looked over at Coriander to assure himself that she wouldn't scare them away again.

He decided that she looked relatively calm, so he once again took to the hunter's crouch and padded silently through the horseplace. He noticed a single mouse nibbling some hay. This time, he didn't hesitate to pounce. He landed with one forepaw on the mouse's tail, then he used his other forepaw to scoop the mouse up and toss it into the air. Skillfully, he caught the mouse in his jaws and bit down, snapping several different bones at once. He dropped the bloodied mass at his paws and licked the tanginess from his lips.

He looked over at Coriander and briefly considered bringing her the mouse. Ultimately, he decided to save his breath. He reached down and bit into the fat mouse. As expected, it was juicier and plumper than any forest mouse was. It was well-fed in the horseplace, even in the middle of leaf-bare. Delicious.

After feasting on the fat mouse, Shellpaw continued to hunt. He caught three more mice before he stopped to think about the prey he was catching. He wasn't feeding a clan anymore. Just himself and, if she chose to eat, Coriander. Four mice was more than enough for two cats, especially when one was sick. Shellpaw frowned as he thought of how some of the prey may turn to crowfood.

Sighing, he took one of the dead mice and padded over to Coriander. He placed it in front of her, nearly right beneath her nose. He hoped the tantalizing scent would be enough to convince her to take a bite. He saw her sniff it and he wagged his tail twice. Then she lowered her head again and closed her eyes, leaving the mouse untouched.

Shellpaw left the mouse with her and returned to the other three. He ate one in a few bites, but between that and the one he had already eaten, his stomach began to hurt. He chose to bury the other two in the dirt for later, hoping they wouldn't spoil by the time he got to them.

Not knowing what else to do, Shellpaw returned to his nest and laid down, curling his tail over his eyes to block out the sun. His full stomach allowed him to fall asleep quickly.

…

"Coriander? Shellpaw? Are you doing alright?" Lilacpaw's voice sounded through the horseplace, causing Shellpaw to awaken immediately.

He lifted his head and saw the beautiful brown tabby enter the den. Her sky-blue eyes shined in the light of the setting sun. His heart began to race faster at the mere sight of her. He found himself wishing she wasn't training to be a medicine cat, knowing that she would never break the code and be his mate.

Mates? Shellpaw wondered. She would make a wonderful mother…

Shellpaw stood up from his nest and padded over to meet her. He reached out to touch noses with her, but she ignored him. In fact, her nose wrinkled. Shellpaw immediately thought she was dissing him, and he flattened his ears against his head in disappointment.

"I smell sickness," Lilacpaw announced.

She turned, leaving Shellpaw in the dust. He watched sadly as the cat he thought he loved ran over to Coriander. She touched her nose to the sickly she-cat's flank and instantly recoiled. Coriander coughed loudly, as if to prove that she was obviously sick.

"Shellpaw, why didn't you send for me?" Lilacpaw asked distressfully. "If she doesn't get treatment soon, she might not live to see the end of leaf-bare!"

Shellpaw stepped back, anger flooding his chest. "How was I supposed to know that? I'm not a medicine cat!"

Lilacpaw's tail twitched irritably. She sniffed the mouse in front of Coriander, then looked back up. Distractedly, she asked, "When was the last time she ate anything?"

"A few days ago," Shellpaw responded. "And before you yell at me, I've been trying to get her to eat."

"If she has the same sickness that Smoky had, she wouldn't have been able to keep prey down anyways," Lilacpaw said pointedly. "She needs herbs, not fresh-kill."

"What do you want me to do, then? Keeping her fed is about all I know how to do!" he retorted.

"Stop yelling at me, Shellpaw," she responded quickly. "It's not helping me focus."

Shellpaw lashed his tail and resolved to return to his nest. As he was doing so, he remembered the mice that he had buried in the dirt. He dug one of them up, sniffed it to assess its freshness, then picked it up in his jaws and brought it to Lilacpaw. He dropped it next to her.

"I killed too many mice today. I would appreciate it if you ate one when you have time," Shellpaw told her. When he was ignored, he returned to his nest once more.

Curling up in his nest, Shellpaw tried to listen to whatever Lilacpaw was saying to Coriander. However, he couldn't make out any words. He focused on Lilacpaw's voice as he settled into sleep once more. She annoyed him, but he still found himself thinking about her whenever he could.

He thought about parenthood, despite everything. He remembered stories that his mother, Blossomfall, used to tell him when he was younger. Her sister, Briarlight, had been paralyzed by a falling tree when she was an apprentice. She had survived for many seasons, but sickness eventually killed her. Before her death, Briarlight had been apparently favored by their parents, Graystripe and Millie. As a result, Blossomfall had felt neglected and resolved to do different with her own kits.

He felt that she had succeeded, and his father, Thornclaw, had been great as well. But he couldn't help but wonder if he would make a good father himself. He frequently got angry and lashed out. He was impatient. He wouldn't go as far as to say he was a bad cat, but he thought he would not make a very good father. If Lilacpaw were to ever break the medicine cat code and take a mate, she could do better than him.

Still, he dreamed of the patter of tiny paws in the stone hollow. He could hear the happy squeals of young voices, see the lithe forms of kits clumsily playing together, and feel the warmth of their fur on his pelt as he gave them badger rides.

Ideally, he and Lilacpaw would have three kits. Three was a manageable number, in his own opinion. Maybe two toms and a she-cat, or the opposite. Certainly not three of the same. Three sons or three daughters would be too much of the same thing.

In his dreams, he watched his imaginary kits grow up. Together with Lilacpaw, they guided their younglings through life in the clans. They watched them train into great, respectable warriors. They watched them mature and have kits of their own. He and Lilacpaw would grow old together and die in the elder's den, long after their kits' kits had become parents themselves.

He found it curious that he had envisioned all of this in ThunderClan.

Lilacpaw was WindClan. Their kits would be half-clan. No matter what happened, how respectable their kits became, they would always be half-clan. They would be looked down upon by the pure-blooded ThunderClan cats. Despite ThunderClan not having many pure-blooded cats left, kits born between two clans were looked at as shameful. Mating with a kittypet was almost better than that.

A medicine cat from another clan? Not in this life.

Shellpaw woke up again when he felt something flick his nose lightly. He opened his eyes and looked up to see Lilacpaw, her face serious.

"Shellpaw, stand up," she commanded.

He did as she told him and stood on all fours. He arched his back in a stretch and stepped out of his nest, brushing past her gently. He stopped with his fur still touching hers. She stepped farther away instinctively.

"I need you to look after Coriander," Lilacpaw said simply.

"How? I don't know anything about herbs," Shellpaw replied.

Lilacpaw sighed in exasperation. "I'm going to come back in the morning with the herbs that I think she'll need. I'll tell you what to do with each of them, but I can't keep coming here every day to check on her. I did that with Smoky, and Kestrelflight kept asking me where I was. I can't let him find out about this, especially with you here, too. I'll come when I can, but that won't be often enough to keep Coriander alive. That's why I need you."

Shellpaw's heart fluttered away like a butterfly when he heard that last phrase: "I need you." He smiled and nodded without even processing the rest of her request. He simply wanted to impress her and get her to fall for him.

"Okay," he agreed thoughtlessly.

"Good," Lilacpaw said with a nod. "I'll be back in the morning. For now, just… keep an eye on her, okay?"

"Okay," he said again.

Shellpaw reached forward to touch her nose, but she turned away quickly. He watched her run over to Coriander and explain the situation to her. Coriander nodded weakly, then Lilacpaw left the horseplace.

The mouse that he had given her was still lying next to the one that he had given to Coriander. Both of them were untouched.