Well it's been practically forever (Over a year) since I've updated this... Eheh sorry. High school's really been hitting me with the homework and I really haven't had any motivation. I'm in the middle of another chapter now, so just bear with me :)
Echowish crossed the border from Shadeclan into Stormclan, quickly realizing that Ravenwing had stopped.
"This is as far as I go." He informed her. "Go back to your own territory." He turned and stalked off into the abundant undergrowth, his scent quickly retreating. Echowish began to feel uneasy, curling up her claws. She wasn't sure how friendly Stormclan would be, as Featherstar was likely adamant that Echowish owed her clan something due to the incident with Moonheart's kit.
Swallowing her hesitation, Echowish reluctantly padded forward, keeping low and hoping that she would not be spotted. The feelings of uneasiness only ceased once she could scent her clan again. She felt the spirits of restlessness replace themselves with relief as she caught sight of her own border. Though just as she was padding toward it, a shape jumped out from the undergrowth and bowled her over.
Despite being a medicine-cat, Echowish did have battle training. She hissed angrily, taking advantage of her larger and heavier form and rolling her smaller attacker over, swapping their places. Just as she moved to sink her claws into their face, another shadow darted out and scratched her flank. The momentary sting caused her to flinch, giving her attacker the opportunity to roll her over again. As Echowish scented two or three more cats jumping from the bushes, she went limp and surrendered.
"Oh no, you got me." She meowed, her tone relentlessly sardonic. "What could the scary Stormclan cats want now?" The she-cat on top of her glared down.
"Give us the catmint." She hissed. Echowish growled in response.
"No. I need it." She growled, earning another hiss in response.
"Our cats have whitecough! We barely have any catmint!" The she-cat snarled. "We need this!"
"Oh shut up." Echowish retorted, rolling her eyes. "We have no catmint. Go find your own." The Stormclan she-cat opened her mouth to reply, but a yowl from over the border interrupted her.
"Enough!" A tom's meow rung out from Mistclan's territory. The entire party looked up to see Thornheart, Nightdew, Frostberry and Thistlestep. "Release our medicine-cat." Thornheart hissed, stalking toward the group. The she-cat, her eyes wide with fear at the thought of an elite Mistclan warrior attacking her, backed away leaving Echowish to stand. Echowish shook the dirt from her fur, and promptly scooped up her bundle of catmint. With a brisk pace, she rushed back to her side of the border to stand behind her clanmates.
"We need that catmint." She she-cat, none of her previous desperation clouding her eyes. "We'll attack if you don't hand it over!" Echowish shook her head, persisting with her answer.
"No." Thornheart meowed in response, clearly not scared by the threat of attack. Despite Stormclan being her enemy, as a medicine cat, Echowish was taught that everyone who needed her help should get it. She opened her mouth, ready to give them some of the catmint. However, before she could speak, Thornheart yowled a command…; "Attack!" The Mistclan cats, save Echowish, hurled themselves into combat.
Echowish stood frozen. The amount of catmint she had was so minimal, but if a small donation would put an end to this battle that had been started between the clans she would do it in a heartbeat. Echowish swallowed her nervousness, and breathed in.
"Stop!" She yowled. "I'll give them some of the catmint, just stop fighting!" Despite this, the Mistclan cats continued to fight. Thornheart scratched the little she-cat he had been attacking, causing her to yowl in pain and hare off through the bushes, clawing up clumps of dirt as she ran from him.
He let out a loud victory yowl and hurled himself at the largest tom who was exchanging blows with Frostberry. The small white she-cat was clearly outmatched, and once Thornheart had joined in the battle it was just a few heartbeats before the tom had fled too, leaving just the small apprentice. Once he saw his clanmates had fled, he shrunk down, his battle spirit leaving him. He hissed once before following them.
The patrol gathered again, and Echowish stepped forward assessing their wounds.
"You didn't have to do that, you know." She muttered to Thornheart as she sniffed him. She shook her head. "You're lucky that you're wounds aren't deeper." Upon deciding that the cats were well enough to travel, the group set off toward the camp again. Echowish felt guilty though. The donation she had planned to give was not only because of their sick cats, but because she couldn't shake the feeling that she owed something to Stormclan…
As soon as they got to camp, Echowish ordered Thornheart and Frostberry to her den. The two had bore the worst wounds of all, though they weren't serious.
"Thistlestep and Nightdew, you two can come by a little later… Your wounds will probably heal on their own though." The two nodded. Echowish promptly followed Thornheart and Frostberry to her den. Frostberry's wounds were worse, as she had been in combat with a much larger tom.
She reached into her herb storage and caught a wad of cobwebs on her paw, and also grabbed a mouthful of marigold. Laying both down on the ground, she grabbed a marigold leaf and chewed it up, then spat the pulp onto the gash. She then ripped a mouthful of cobwebs from the wad, and patted them on over top.
"It'll hurt for a bit, but if you rest for just a few days it should be fine." Echowish meowed, grabbing some more of her herbs to deal with Thornheart's wounds. He also needed the marigold and cobwebs, but instead of one major wound he had several smaller ones. "No patrol, either." She added.
"All right, Echowish…" Frostberry meowed reluctantly; Echowish knew where she was coming from; feeling entirely useless to the clan was a terrible feeling.
Echowish chewed another marigold leaf absentmindedly, and patched up Thornheart's cuts. He had six or seven decorating his body, though none were very serious.
"You'll probably have a new scar to add to your muzzle," Echowish commented, "But other than that you'll be fine."
"All right, thanks Echowish." Thornheart purred, and left the den. Frostberry stayed, however.
"You can go, you know." Echowish meowed with an edge to her voice, not really wanting the she-cat around any longer. "I have to go give the catmint to Cloudfeather, Silvercloud and Smokeberry anyway."
"Well, I have something to tell you first." Frostberry meowed. "I'm expecting!" Echowish's eyes widened.
"And you were out battling still? Were you not thinking of your kits?!" Echowish gasped.
"It's recent…" Frostberry meowed, shuffling her paws nervously. "I only really noticed this morning. I plan to go to the nursery within half a moon, plus I wasn't really anticipating a battle when I agreed to go on the patrol."
"All right…" Echowish muttered. "But please, go to the nursery soon. Also," She began again, "Who's the father?"
"Dustfeather's." Frostberry purred. "I haven't told him yet, but I figured I should tell you first."
"Well you should probably go do that now." Echowish told her. "I have to get some stuff done anyway." She meowed, hoping that Frostberry would take the hint.
"Yes of course, I'll see you later Echowish!" Frostberry purred, leaving the medicine den. Echowish took the catmint and followed her out. She headed to the spare den where she had Cloudfeather, Silvercloud and Smokeberry staying until they were cured of their whitecough.
"Hello?" She meowed into the den, hearing just coughs in response.
"Is that Echowish?" Silvercloud croaked. "And is that… Catmint I smell?" Echowish nodded, and placed it down in the center. The fragrant herb's scent drifted around the small den. She divided it into three piles and placed one in front of Silvercloud and another in front of Cloudfeather. She took the third and walked towards Smokeberry, but the old she-cat didn't move.
"Smokeberry?" Echowish meowed through the herb. She shook Smokeberry gently with her paw, and found the she-cat cold to the touch. She put the catmint down again, and used her paws to roll Smokeberry over.
The old she-cat was dead.
"Is Smokeberry okay?" Silvercloud mewed hoarsely from the other side of the den. "She told us not to disturb her because she wanted to sleep, but that was a while ago."
"No." Echowish told her. "She's… dead."
Silvercloud was silent, clearly not knowing what to say. Echowish had never known the elder very well, but she had been one of the more bearable ones. Echowish sighed. She took the remainder of the catmint and left the den, not even bothering to say goodbye.
She would tell Swiftstar once she put away the catmint.
Littlepaw hadn't been out of the camp with her mentor in a while, though she felt like that wasn't really something to be upset about. Most of the clan treated her like a full warrior now; she had the experience of one after all and it would be ridiculous to still treat her like an apprentice.
She wondered what her warrior name would be; there were quite a few combinations that she liked. Maybe if I ask Swiftstar, he'll let me pick my name. She thought to herself, purring slightly. She didn't really want a feminine name, like Littlesong or Littleflower. It made her sound like a queen in the nursery.
Not to say she didn't want to have kits though, but there weren't really any toms in the clan who caught her attention. But unrightfully so, she was still an apprentice, and she really didn't need to worry about getting a mate yet.
It was still rather early in the morning, and she had only just woken up. She wondered if Echowish was back from Shadeclan yet with the catmint.
Yawning, she rose from her nest and plodded out the door, her pawsteps still filled with sleep. As she looked up from the apprentice den, she was shocked to see a lifeless grey form slumped in the middle of the clearing. Shaking her head to clear her weariness, she briskly walked over.
It was Smokeberry. Littlepaw's heart sank; she told the best stories. Flowerfur came to stand beside her.
"She was old, Littlepaw. And she held on despite her whitecough for a pretty long time." Flowerfur murmured to her daughter.
"I know." Littlepaw replied. While it was sad to lose Smokeberry, she didn't play much of a role in Littlepaw's life, so the death didn't affect her much. "I'm going hunting."
"You can't go by yourself; you have to go with a warrior since you're still an apprentice." Flowerfur told her.
"I'm just as old and strong as my brothers who are warriors. I don't care, I'm going." Littlepaw meowed stiffly, heading toward the entrance of camp.
"Wait-" Flowerfur began, but Littlepaw ignored her. She exited through the bushes in front of the camp entrance and padded into the forest, straying off of the path which had been treaded over the course of many generations. She felt more relaxed in the forest, and a thought occurred to her in the back of her mind; perhaps this would be a good chance to make an impressive catch. Maybe this could be her ticket to the warriors den.
More alert, she gently padded through the forest, glancing around, hoping to find a piece of prey worth a warrior name. She sniffed around the roots of the large oak tree in front of her, hoping to catch a whiff of mouse. Her eyes darted back and forth as she searched for prey. At last, her eyes settled on a squirrel, innocently chewing on a seed next to a bush. She crouched down, pressing her belly to the grass and slowly sliding forward, each paw step critical to her catch. As she neared the squirrel, it looked up, still clutching it's seed. Her paw froze mid step and she gently placed in back onto the grass. Wriggling slightly, she prepared to pounce. Hind feet pressed down, she sprang up, landing on the squirrel and delivering a killing bite to the throat.
She sized up the squirrel; it was very average. She wasn't likely to get a warrior name off of this one. She sighed, and scraped dirt over the squirrel, ready to come back for it later. Perhaps she would find something yet.
The song of a bird made her look up; a small thrush was perched on the branch of a tree, but it was too high for her to get. Plus one small thrush wasn't worth the climb. Instead, she crept through the undergrowth, feeling a few snags of the brambles on her fur. She began to catch the slight scent of mouse, and she turned her head. A mouse emerged from a small hole at the base of a tree; the smell was very strong. Perhaps it was a nest.
Littlepaw neared the mouse, stalking toward it. However when she lashed out her paws to smash down on it, it darted back into the hole. She growled in frustration; this wasn't a nest that could be dug up either. She would have to wait here if she wanted to catch anything.
Deciding she could be patient, she crouched at the foot of the tree. She heard scratching from inside, but nothing emerged from the hole. Littlepaw began to get restless, twitching her whiskers and shuffling her paws. After a short time, the scratching inside the nest seemed to stop. She waited anxiously for the mouse to come out of the hole, but to her frustration nothing emerged.
Hissing angrily, she turned away from the tree. She wanted to catch at least one other thing before heading back to the Mistclan camp with her single squirrel. Just then, the opportunity came along; a robin flew out of the tree and landed in a nearby bush. She was downwind of the robin, so she stood a fair chance at catching it. Littlepaw dropped into the hunters crouch and crept toward the bird.
She was only half a tail length away from the bush when she stepped on a twig. The bird nervously looked back and forth, before settling back into the berry it was eating. Littlepaw was right underneath it now. Wriggling her hindquarters, she leaped up and smacked at the bird, clawing its wing. It screamed in both panic and agony, taking to the sky.
"Mouse-dung!" Littlepaw growled, but she heard the robin quickly smash back down to the ground from its injured wing. She pounced on it, killing it quickly.
Satisfied with her catch, despite it not being worth her warrior name, she ducked through the undergrowth and headed back to camp.