Disclaimer: I don't own the Warrior Cats series!

Title: Berry Paint

Summary: Sandkit wants to look pretty for his apprentice ceremony, so he wears berry paint; Lightkit feels alone in RiverClan for her messy pelt and gruff demeanor, save for two elders, and strives to outdo Rosepaw; Hoptail's known who they are all along, but they're hesitant to tell their mate, Mintpelt; and Smallkit of ShadowClan is scared to face who he really is- is it a tom at all?

Chapter Title: Smallpaw (Sickness)

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Guest (October 24)- Thanks!

BoneMeal- Hey! I like Rosetuft! I made her, nurtured her character, etc.

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After his collapse into Bronzewind's paws, Smallpaw can only recall snippets. A desperate murmuring- he thought that Mosswhisker might've wailed; a familiar set of teeth sinking into his scruff and pulling him into a torrent of cold. A oppressive murk in the air as he's placed into another nest, flailing, half-blind with sickness. Disturbing flavors forced down his throat, alleviating him only slightly before the tendrils that gripped his body pulled him even further down.

Lots of smells. Herbs, and Spiderberry. Skycloud seemed to engulf him with his stench; he probably curled against him in an effort to warm his feverish pelt. Another that makes Smallpaw's heart ache, cleaning his ears and drooling eyes and nose. A quiet murmur from Rocktail.

Smallpaw fought tooth and claw to stay, to keep his body working and mind attentive. He thrashed in his nest for what felt like seasons (but was probably only days), tortured by a pain in his bones like no other, his throat aflame, chest full.

Finally, he let go.

He realized something had changed when he no longer felt like a badger was nesting in his skull. Smallpaw blinked open his eyes, squinting against the glow of the sun, which he hadn't been out in for some time. He was laying in a field just outside a forest, bordered by a lake.

Is this what StarClan looks like? Smallpaw tested his joints, finding them to be full of energy. He staggered to his paws, slightly unaccustomed to walking after days on his side. I've got to be dead. I haven't felt this good in moons.

However, the apprentice found himself at peace as he trotted out of the long yellow foliage and into soft, dew-wet grass, tail waving behind him. The regret he harbored for leaving his family remained, but Smallpaw was too enamored by his comfortable body and the tranquil grounds to delve too deep into it.

ShadowClan will be fine without me, he assured himself- then added, slightly miffed; I wish I could've gotten my warrior name before I left.

Because Smallpaw wasn't one to enjoy even the simplest of things without worrying, he dragged his paws through the cool grass and tried to be satisfied with the thought that he could guide his brother as a spirit until they finally could be together again.

Poor Lizardkit and Rockkit will miss me, though. And who will train with Mousepaw now? A flash of realization struck him. Watercry! How could I leave without telling her goodbye?

Granted, Smallpaw hadn't been very up to talking those last few days, but nothing had stopped him from sharing tongues or fresh-kill with his mother beforehand. I was such a terrible son. She's probably relieved I'm gone now, so she can finally stop fussing over me. He was certain she had been the one to clean and feed him, wrapping her tail around his frail body like he was a kit again. Well, it's all over now. No sense in mulling it over.

Smallpaw had never swam a day in his life, but he felt perfectly confident as he dived into the crystal clear waters of the lake, leisurely kicking to propel himself. He looked at all the fish swimming by and blew bubbles out his nose, wondering if they were the ghosts of fish RiverClan warriors had caught and eaten. He floated to the surface, taking in deep lungfuls of air and paddling to keep his chin above the water, laughing.

"You look like you're having a good time." A voice commented.

Smallpaw glanced around, finally locating a thin brown she-cat sitting on a log floating at the edge of the lake, half-propped up on the grass so it didn't float away. Water swirled gently around her, and stars crusted her sleek fur. Her long legs made her heads taller than he was, but she didn't seem threatening.

"Hi." He meowed.

"Hello, Smallpaw." She purred. "You look like a stick that got caught in a mole's pelt."

"Whoa!" He was entranced as he came closer. She knew my name! Will I be able to do that? Just know things? Smallpaw dug his nails into the log and jumped, only managing to make it halfway up. He laughed and climbed the rest of the way, feeling strong and young. "Are you one of my ancestors?"

"All of StarClan are you ancestors!" She laughed, flicking his nose with her tail. "But, no. I was from ThunderClan. My name is Brownstep."

Smallpaw's pelt prickled eerily. She sounded fine at the Gathering! "I heard about you! You were in the nursery, with kits."

Brownstep dipped her head, eyes saddening. "Sheepkit and Graykit. I miss them so much, but I can take comfort in the fact that my mate will watch over them."

He relaxed slightly, soggy tail wrapping around his paws. So the kits are alive, then. That's good. "Are you here to show me the territory?"

The warrior shook her head. "You're not welcome in StarClan quite yet, little one. You aren't dead."

"I'm not?" He felt like he'd been run over by a monster. It was such a whiplash; going from wholeheartedly believing you're dead to meeting a ghost that tells you you're alive.

"No."

Smallpaw's belly tightened with fear. Does that mean I'll have to go back and be so sick again? The thought that he would wake up to find this to have been something hefted on him from fever made him want to scream.

"Is this a dream?" He asked finally, meeting her gaze. Brownstep looked kind but unflinching under his obvious displeasure.

"This is the place between life and death." Brownstep gestured to the field and lake with her tail. "We're just outside of StarClan's territory, but you can't go in just yet."

Smallpaw's ears pricked. "How long until I can, then?"

"That depends." Brownstep got to her paws meaningfully, head rising into a proud stare. She looked every bit like the fearless warrior she had been in life, and he could easily see her hunting and fighting. "Are you going to wait here passively, or are you going to fight?"

Smallpaw felt time shudder as the pleasant lake turned an inky black under their paws. He could no longer breathe. He fell to the trunk, digging his claws in, eyes wide with fear. Brownstep watched his reaction with heartfelt compassion.

"No. No, no, no." He moaned, shakily skittering off the bark and into the cool grass. He pulled in on himself, covering his face with his paws. "I can't. I won't."

Warmth flooded him as Brownstep curled around his tiny body, cleaning his shoulder.

"It's your decision." She reminded him. "But do you really want to die so young?"

Better now than after more agony, he thought. Smallpaw's gaze was trapped by the dark waters. Now that he'd swam in it when it was clear, it didn't seem so scary when dark, but he still remembered its icy grip.

"Your Clanmates will grieve for you. Mine did." Her ears lowered sorrowfully. "I'd give anything for one last day with my littermate and kits; to tell Rowantooth I love him one more time. You have that chance now, Smallpaw, but there's no guarantee; you'll have to fight endless battles for it."

"I could fight a battle." He rasped. "That's not a battle. That's helplessness."

"That's illness. Even when you can't move, you must fight it." She gently nosed his ear. "Do you have that level of patience and resolve?"

"No." Then, remembering Spiderberry and Watercry; "But I could try."

"A Clan asks the best of its warriors. You alone must decide if this is your best or not." She murmured.

"I'm not a warrior."

"You are. You have the heart of one." Brownstep pressed a paw to his side. "You just have to find it. Find who you are and what you want to be."

What I want to be? Smallpaw thought, puzzled. He cautiously got to his paws, climbing back onto the log. The apprentice picked his way to the very edge, eyes fixed on the dark liquid. It sloshed against his perch, and he flinched.

"What if I still die, after all that?" He blurted out. "Will I be alone?"

Brownstep's eyes were unreadable as she watched him, sitting very straight with her tail around her paws. "I will come for you when you die, no matter how long that takes. I promise. Now go." There was a pause. "And... please. Help my kits feel less lonely."

Smallpaw nodded, crouched, and, with a great deal of reluctance, leapt. He sunk immediately, trapped in his prison once again. ShadowClan surrounded him, just out of reach. He thought he smelled Watercry and Spiderberry.

Smallpaw fought.

Author's Note: I know I've given ya'll like three updates lately, but I've really been looking forward to this arc. I'll probably cool my jets soon, no worries.

-Mandaree1