She almost collapsed under her exhausted legs. The vest was draped over her back loosely, the bags flipped open and emptied. She dragged herself towards the bank of the river, lit poorly by the overcast diffusing the evening light. The twoleg lights flicked on earlier than they normally did, giving her enough to see the way. The wall of snow that blocked the river from view had not been marked. She sighed, walking towards the small, gray-stone wall that broke up the white. She scratched the fake-fur wraps around her neck. The water that flowed slower through it than the rest of the river had risen, spilling away from the wall and making a new pool in the snow outside of it. Before walking in, she glanced left and right; she recognized Wolfgang. He was dipping his paws in the melted slush a tree-length away. Ignoring the few others spaced about, she entered the inlet in the wall and let her vest slide from her shoulders. She stepped out of the supports and kicked the whole of it into the pool. It floated for a while before sinking the shallow depth to the bottom, protected by gray-stone from being swept into the current. She pushed her paws down on it, the squelching of blood from the bags made her ears twitch. Her nose curled until she saw the first bits of red drain back into the river. The footsteps of an approaching group swiveled her ears back.
"How is it in there?" The older tom's voice was low.
Blackleaf sighed. "Are you asking about someone?"
The varied group with him glanced around, ears flattening. After their silence, Blackleaf faced them.
"Anyone in particular?" she said, more force behind her voice.
"Her name is Myosotail," the tom mewed. "She-She's about my age. My mate. Please—"
"Did you ask the others in the medicine den?"
"Fleetheart and Flyfoot are too busy for that," a different tom said.
Blackleaf glared at him.
"Please, is my mate okay?" the older tom asked. "She was on patrol at the bridge, under Leaftail. I-I haven't seen her since. She never returned to the warrior's den. She never…"
The others comforted him to help calm his breathing.
"I'm not familiar with her name," Blackleaf said. "Is there anything else you can give me?"
The group let their older comrade approach and compose himself.
"She-She's big. Strong, with black fur and large, white patches on her sides—"
"Oh," Blackleaf said.
"Oh?" the tom stepped closer.
"She's… dead."
"What!?"
"I believe she… died of her injuries. The fur on her belly was thin, and an under cat managed to rake her multiple—"
"No, no, no, Myosotail why you!?"
The tom shouted her name several more times before collapsing in the snow. A pair from the group lifted him – he dragged his paws through the snow as they helped him back up the bank. Wolfgang looked away, the new snowfall taking his attention. The rest of the group was uninterested, putting theirs towards the medicine cat.
"What's wrong with you?" one of them said.
Blackleaf growled; a few of them stepped back.
"No," he said, holding his ground. "What's wrong with you!?"
"What? Is telling the truth wrong now?" Blackleaf said.
"You didn't sound like you cared."
"I spent the day watching dozens die of their injuries. And keeping them separated from the ones dead of blackcough. Don't push me."
"Seem to have been doing a lot of watching recently…" the tom grumbled.
Blackleaf stomped up to him and growled. He looked down on her, puffing out his chest. The medicine cat's eyes went wide; she smacked the tom across the muzzle and kicked snow in his face. The others growled and encircled her; Wolfgang looked on.
"Don't any of you see?" Blackleaf hissed. "I'm trying to help you!"
"Then what was that for?" the tom said.
"You think I'm just watching!? You mouse-hearted idiot."
"Then tell me what it is. Tell me what helping is."
"I've spent the past quarter-moon trying to make sense of our standing with StarClan."
The warriors glanced at each other, most with scowls on their faces. They reconvened in front of her, their fur flattening. All except for the tom rubbing his face.
"That's your excuse?" one of the she-cats said.
"Excuse me? StarClan is important."
"To who?"
Blackleaf's fur spiked. The rest of the group took a few steps back.
"No, this needs to be said. Keeping silent won't do us any good this time," the she-cat said.
"How dare you mock our faith like that," Blackleaf growled.
"Look around you! Where do you see an eager body of worshippers? Where, Blackleaf?"
The medicine cat kept her eyes firm on the tom.
"Because all I see are cats more scared of that odd-eyed kitten in the Covenant than they are of StarClan. For all we know, they are on her side instead of ours!"
"StarClan doesn't take sides," Blackleaf said.
"Yet we're taught the Star Covenant is a band of heretics," the tom said. "That their branches all around the earth have done nothing but kill under falsehoods and blasphemous history. And you tell us their stories. You tell us that the Stars take no sides and that they watch over every clan. And they just watch UnderClan kill us. They just watch heretics spread disease amidst our ranks."
"Rye does not make anyone sick," Blackleaf growled. "She's just a kit with odd eyes. Her powers aren't real."
"And she has a quarter a clan's worth of elite warriors guarding her," the tom growled. "And cats from far and wide coming to do her bidding. If anything, they're the religious ones."
"UnderClan is a silverpelt clan," the she-cat said. "Yet they ignore the warrior code. They've never followed it, if you ask our oldest comrades. Medicine cats told us they always would, that to break it angers StarClan. How to you explain that?"
"No one is speaking to the Stars right now," Blackleaf said. "No one has guidance."
The she-cat leaned in close. "You just told a tom that his mate was dead. You didn't even care. Not about him, or her, or anyone in that medicine den. You only care about yourself, and your Stars."
Blackleaf shoved the she-cat away. The group rallied behind the tom and she-cat, growling and yipping. They had Wolfgang's full attention. Once they stopped, they followed the medicine cat towards the gray-stone wall. She kept her eyes on her medicine bags, slowly kneading them.
"What? No response?" the she-cat said. "I know the stories about you. You've injured comrades for saying less. You know I'm right, do you?"
"How about we calm down a bit."
Wolfgang stood between Blackleaf and the warriors. They did not flinch from him at all, even as he growled down at all of them. The medicine cat looked over the older tom; no fresh scars. The clouds grew even heavier, blocking more light and loosing more snow. It muffled the sounds of the camp above the bank and left them with their tired breathing and shuffling. The she-cat closed her eyes and took a deep breath; the rest of the ground seemed to calm with her.
"What's the problem here?" Wolfgang growled.
"You have ears," the tom muttered.
"Hard of hearing, so how about you say it again."
The she-cat stepped forward. "You have to understand how frustrating it is for us."
"I'm trying to help with that," Blackleaf said, standing next to Wolfgang. "You have to believe me."
"Now you're begging?" the she-cat growled. "Today, Leaftail was almost killed. One of my friends lost his mate. Warriors I was raised with were dragged off the bridge by under cats. And the snowstorms are coming back… And the so-called champion of the Shadows that Solestar practically raised has shown her true colors. The only good that came from this day was that Windstripe will no longer trouble us—"
"I ordered those warriors to spare her," Blackleaf hissed.
"For what? So we would have another silent mouth to force-feed? Solestar will have them executed soon enough. After all the food and water we poured into them, it ends like that… I heard about you saying that. Why would you even want her alive? She's responsible for more deaths on that bridge than anyone."
"Just…" Blackleaf lost her words.
"Blackleaf, you're making it hard for any of us to trust you. You kill our morale when we feel invincible. You humiliate apprentices for being ambitious. You belittle Leaftail – your own littermate – who many of us respect. You've spent more time avoiding us than you have helping us with blackcough or the war."
"More time keeping secrets with the enemy or rubbing up against him." The tom pointed at Wolfgang.
"Watch your mouth," Wolfgang barked.
"You weren't there. You're never there. You don't deserve to tell me what to say."
The older tom flexed his clawless paws, baring his fangs.
"Nothing to say. Either of you," the she-cat said. "What was Solestar thinking with you?"
She hissed at Blackleaf before leaving. The rest of the group followed. A couple of them had wide eyes, their ears folded back. But the rest held their tails high and their chests out, each taking a narrowed scowl at the medicine cat before heading up the bank. Wolfgang hissed at them, shaking the loose snow from his fur. The twoleg lights brightened and started buzzing; they briefly took Wolfgang's attention. Blackleaf headed back to the gray-stone wall and dragged her medicine vest from the river. She pressed the water out of it, ignoring its icy sting. What little blood remained in the hide drained off the stone and was hidden by the fresh snowfall. She watched it all, every bit of it being either hidden or drained away. Wolfgang was staring over her shoulder, keeping his distance. Blackleaf's head was down; she was closely inspecting the medicine vest.
"Do you have anything to add?"
Wolfgang stayed quiet.
"Then I should get these somewhere to dry."
She slung the vest over her back, shuttering to its touch. Blackleaf walked past Wolfgang without a glance. But he caught a glimpse of her eyes; They were tense and narrowed.