As the clan cats entered the camp, Mottledsong and Shrubfoot poked their heads out of the Medicine cat's den. They looked tired, especially Shrubfoot. Stormflower padded out of the nursery, and soon all the cats that had stayed behind were out, waiting eagerly for news.
"Anything new?" Mottledsong meowed as she padded over to the group.
"Not much except a couple of the clans have had a few cats sick lately and they don't know what it is." Shadedpelt said. "How is Thunderpaw?"
"She's getting better. She should break her fever anytime now." Shrubfoot said.
Ghostface stifled a yawn. It had been a long day. Mossclaw yawned as he said, "I'm really… tiiiiiiired." Ghostface nodded and the two toms padded to the warriors den.
Ghostface didn't wake up until long after dawn. Mossclaw was also asleep, curled into a tortoiseshell colored ball. Deciding not to wake him, Ghostface stepped outside. The camp was bustling with cats returning with fresh-kill, and apprentices doing various tasks. Ghostface remembered that Shrubfoot had said that Thunderpaw would break her fever soon. He quickly padded over to the Medicine-cats den and called out cautiously, "Shrubfoot?"
The black and white she-cat poked her head out and said, "Oh, hey Ghostface. Are you here to see Thunderpaw?" Ghostface nodded. Shrubfoot stepped aside and let him in. The den was spacious, even larger than Barkstar's. There were herbs in piles on the sides of the walls, and little herb bundles scattered throughout. In the very back was the shape of Thunderpaw, her blue-gray fur rising and falling gently with each breath.
Lowering her voice, Shrubfoot said, "She's over her fever, she should be back to full strength when she wakes up."
Ghostface padded over and gazed at the apprentice. He didn't have time to say anything before Shrubfoot was ushering him out. "Scoot! Out! She needs her rest and I've got a lot of stuff to do."
Ghostface let out an indignant mew and jogged out. He would have liked to have at least stayed with the apprentice a little bit longer. Suddenly Shadedpelt approached him. "Are you busy?"
"Um… No." Ghostface said.
"Good. Go on a hunting patrol. Anywhere you like, just bring back some fresh-kill." The black tom said. "There's already a patrol out, so you can join them if you like."
Ghostface nodded and looked around to see if anyone would like to join him, but everyone seemed busy. He spotted Mottledsong disappearing out of the camp entrance, and was about to follow, but Shadedpelt stopped him.
"Oh, and remember. You can't eat until the clan is fed." The black tom said, staring for a second, then nodded and padded off. Suddenly Icetail's silver tabby pelt caught Ghostface's eye as the tom padded out of the camp entrance, following Mottledsong. Ghostface was about to follow, but then he glanced at the fresh-kill pile. There was a delicious looking finch lying at the side of the pile, and he realized just how hungry he was.
"Ah, well. I'll eat later I guess. Duty to the clan and all that." He muttered, padding out of the den. He was a skilled hunter, but this wasn't the terrain he was used to. He was used to sharp drop offs and rocky hills. He was used to heights, and this flat ground was new to him, and he felt blinded by the tall, looming grass that arched over the narrow paths. Ghostface leapt up onto a look out post and glanced around at the terrain. He could see the dark shape of the boulder rock place in the distance and Ghostface padded that direction eagerly. 'Why would StarClan send me here if it's so different?' He thought as he dashed through the meadow. He had thought this often, Why? Why him? Why here? Why now? But he never received an answer. He knew though, that someday he would find out, even if he finds out in StarClan itself.
The pale tom reached the massive gray boulder and smiled. This was more like the terrain he was used to. There were tiny holes and nooks and crannies, perfect for prey. Shoots of tough grass sprouted here and there over the surface. Ghostface opened his mouth to catch the scent of anything, but the scent of HillsClan crowded his mouth. Ghostface's fur began to bristle. How could they still hunt here, even after Barkstar's warnings? They had said that they had plenty of prey. Ghostface began to mark around the rock, but suddenly a light blur slammed into his side.
Ghostface yowled in surprise, sprang back up and leapt at the cat that had attacked him. He briefly recognized the cat's scent as HillsClan. He landed on the cream colored cat's back and dug his claws into their shoulders. The warrior hissed and squirmed beneath him, throwing itself on it's side and trying to swipe at him with it's front claws. Ghostface yowled as a claw managed to break through the skin on his left front leg, though it wasn't deep. Ghostface hissed angrily and bit into the nape of the enemy cat's neck, and as he did so, the cat's scent flooded his mouth. It was familiar to him. He leapt off and looked at the cat.
"Fawnshadow?"