Trigger warning for chapters 38-42 of this book:These chapters will feature detailed depictions of sickness, as well as death. Those who have been impacted by Covid-19 may find this content to be upsetting, and should read with caution, or skip past these chapters entirely. Doing so will not interfere with the reader's understanding of current story events, as the characters will talk about the results of this time period throughout the remaining installments of the book. I will provide this trigger warning above each of the mentioned chapters to remind everyone to read with discretion.
Swiftcloud awoke early the next day, emerging from the shelter of the warrior's den into the crisp morning air. The clearing was shrouded in darkness. The sky above was nothing more than a depressing gray slate. Snow still fell upon the meadow, turning everything powdery white. Even the ground underpaw was covered. Swiftcloud shivered as a chill started to seep into her pawpads. She skipped over towards the shadow of the Tall Stone, where less snow had settled. Even here the ground was as cold as stone, but it was better than standing ankles deep in the white substance.
Other warriors stood within this small clearing. Chicorynose sat above the rest, atop Tall Stone's peak. It appeared she was ready to send out the dawn patrol.
"This morning we will be prioritizing our border patrols over hunting," the deputy began, "it'll be harder to catch anything while the sun's barely risen, especially with this snow. For now, let's ensure all of our scent markers have been freshened up. Shadowfang, lead a patrol to the Twolegplace border. Cloverpetal, you'll take a patrol to the Forest Patch. And Cowpatch will lead one to Mountainclan. You three may choose whoever you want to join you."
Instantly Shadowfang turned to acknowledge his mate. "You already know I'm having you join me," he remarked to Swiftcloud.
"You'd better," Swiftcloud warned teasingly, "someone has to be around to make sure you don't go fighting any more kittypets."
"That was one time! I was young. Besides, how was I supposed to know that kittypet would one day become the love of my life?"
Swiftcloud let out a flustered mrrow of laughter, batting at Shadowfang's whiskers playfully. "So who else are you going to take on your patrol?"
"How about Bumblethroat and Sheeptail?" Shadowfang suggested
"Good idea," Swiftcloud agreed, turning. "Let's go find them."
"No need, I've already found you." Bumblethroat came padding over to the mates, tail held high in greetings. "I was just about to ask if I could join you two. I need a good jog. My chest's feeling kind of heavy today and I'm hoping the morning air will do me some good."
"Why don't you see a medicine cat about that?" Swiftcloud prompted, lifting a paw to lick warm.
"I'm sure I'll be alright. It's nothing to bother Goldensong and Mistyleaf over. How about I grab Sheeptail for you, and we'll meet you two over by the brambles?"
"Sounds good," Shadowfang agreed to the plan. "We'll be waiting. Try not to take too long."
ooo
The sun slowly creeped overhead as the patrol made their way across the snowy meadow. The land was still dark, the fields hard to navigate behind it's flurry curtain. But the four warriors had been this way dozens of times; by now they didn't need their sight to know where they were headed. When they'd arrived, three out of the patrol wasted no time remarking the border. One cat, however, was straggling behind.
Bumblethroat came hobbling over to the others, wheezing. His breathing came out more as a ragged pant as he settled beside his clanmates. Despite concerned looks, the tom insisted that he was fine. Shadowfang and Sheeptail chose to believe him, but Swiftcloud was skeptical.
Later, as the patrol made their way along the edge of their territory, Bumblethroat began to cough. The cough didn't appear to be a mere tickle in his throat, nor was it a one off instance throughout the rest of the mission. It became more of an upsetting, reoccurring nuisance. By the time the dawn patrol was concluded, the tabby looked as though he'd run across the whole meadow and back.
"Bumblethroat, you really should go see Goldensong," Swiftcloud insisted as they entered the camp. Bumblethroat whimpered a little, then nodded his head in defeat. The white and black patched molly watched as her clanmate made his way over to the medicine den. She stared onward for an extra couple of heartbeats to make sure the tom would keep his word. Satisfied, shr turned her attention elsewhere for the remainder of the day.
Two days passed. Many of clan awoke to the sound Sheeptail wheezing. Swiftcloud sat up in her nest to study the white tom, still a groggy from sleep. Sheeptail's head was bent and back arched, jaws parted in a pant as he tried to catch his breath. Around them, despite how late into the night it was, every cat was on edge. Swiftcloud's denmates slowly crawled away from Sheeptail, like he would lash out and kill them at any moment. Swiftcloud didn't understand why they were all making such a fuss. She stood, padding towards Sheeptail to check on him. Certainly no one else would.
"Swiftcloud!" A pair of jaws clamped around her scruff. The patched molly turned to look into the worried eyes of her mate who began to drag her back with all the might he could muster. Swiftcloud promptly pulled herself from Shadowfang's grasp, turning to face him, awaiting an explanation.
"Don't go near him. I don't want you getting sick, too," Shadowfang mewled.
"He's not sick," Swiftcloud insisted, though she was clearly in denial. There's no way a third cat could be sick. Rosebloom was isolated yesterday. The greencough couldn't possibly be spreading. Could it..?
"Can't you smell it? Sheeptail is ill, Swift. Or getting there. Bumblethroat and Rosebloom have already been confirmed to have something. It's better we be safe than sorry," Shadowfang insisted in return. Swiftcloud huffed, sitting down. Shadowfang came to stand in front of her, as if he could protect her from the possible disease with his body.
"Sheeptail, dear, why don't you go and have a little chat with Goldensong?" Quailbelly suggested to the tom, shielded behind the large form of Frostfeather.
Sheeptail lifted his head weakly. He nodded then rose to his paws, practically dragging himself out of the warrior's den. Swiftcloud's denmates let out a collective sigh once the senior warrior was out of sight. They moved back to their usual nests, tension still heavy in the atmosphere. Shadowfang shook out his pelt to rid himself of his nerves.
"I'm sorry about that. But we can't risk you catching whatever he may have," the black tom mewed, bumping his head against Swiftcloud's chin. Swiftcloud nodded in understanding, licking Shadowfang on his muzzle before settling down with him in their shared nest.
More coughing erupted outside in the morning when the warriors awoke once more. Slugsnout and Snailear were paired together, herded by concerned clanmates over to the medicine den. At a safe distance, of course. And in the days to come, more cats would follow. Meadowcall, Ladybugbite, Boulderfall, Seedpaw, and a few of the clan's kits were among them. Too many cats to house in the medicine den. A decision was made to move all sick cats to one location. Anyone with even the slightest cough was isolated in the elder's den, sending the displaced elders to live with the warriors for a while. After all, the den was halfway vacant.
Things stayed pretty contained, or at least for a few days. Then another case of greencough would make itself known, and Whitestar would begrudgingly have to order another cat to quarentine.
Grassclan's warriors were dropping like flies, and at the worst possible time. Leafbare fully settled upon the Land's Star; most prey had gone into hiding or hibernation for the season. The snow remained ever present on the meadow, making the world seem that much bleaker. Cats were hungrier now than they'd been in previous moons. And that drove the remaining healthy warriors to work themselves to the bone, as they tried to provide for the rest of the clan.
Swiftcloud was no different. Sometimes, she'd stay out long into the night trying to find a bite to eat. And when she'd catch something, the prey always went right to the queens. She made sure to that.
Three quarter moons had passed since the first cat had been diagnosed with greencough. By now it'd been two days since Swiftcloud had anything to eat. Her belly ached, so badly that she felt as if she were dying. She had no idea why she felt so awful. She'd grown used to hunger by now. Despite the risk of going, she decided to take herself to the medicine den. Maybe the medicine cats would have an herb that would cure the gnawing pain in her intestines. Luckily no sick cats were in the den at this time. Mistyleaf and Snowfrost sat within the tree trunk's confines alone, shuffling through a pile of herbs.
"Do you think there's enough here to provide everyone a dose?" Mistyleaf asked. Snowfrost twitched her whiskers.
"Hardly," she admitted. "Hopefully enough to at least dull their symptoms. Adding in chickweed might help. Oh- and we'll need to add some tansy to Rosebloom's mixture today. She's running a fever."
Swiftcloud felt bad for pulling the healers away from their work, but she was desperate. "Um, excuse me?" She meeped.
"Swiftcloud!" Mistyleaf perked up. "What's wrong? You don't appear to be sick. How are you feeling?"
"My stomach hurts. It feels as though my insides are missing," she explained with a grimace.
Mistyleaf stepped away from her task, sniffing her friend. "Hm. When was the last time you ate?"
Swiftcloud blinked. The thought of food had barely crossed her mind recently. "Ate..? Um...well, I can't remember honestly. All the prey I've caught I've used to feed the queens and kits."
"But you didn't think to save some for yourself?" Snowfrost snorted.
Swiftcloud shrank in her fur. "The Code says queens and elders eat before the warriors."
"And you didn't think that the Warrior Code may want you to save at least a mouthful of food for yourself? You're a adult, Swiftcloud use your head!" The medicine cat snapped. Snowfrost gave her head a shake, putting her focus back on her herbs. She muttered to herself as she sorted through her supplies, clearly agitated by Swiftcloud's ignorance. "Warriors and their pride, I swear it's obnoxious sometimes."
"Snowfrost has a point," Mistyleaf agreed. "I'm sure the reason your stomach feels so bad is because you've been starving yourself."
Starving..? That was a concept Swiftcloud hadn't been familiar with before. In her life she'd barely known hunger, yet alone something so severe. A luxury, perhaps, she was granted due to being born a kittypet. Swiftcloud had known of starvation, but never realized it would make her feel so hollow. For a brief moment, Swiftcloud thought back to the day she had been invited to join the clan. Whitestar had warned about the dangers of Leafbare. The fierce cold, the lack of food. And yet, despite facing it all now Swiftcloud had no regrets. She would always be happy to be part of Grassclan, even if she had to go hungry.
"You need to go have something to eat." Mistyleaf's voice cut into Swiftcloud's thoughts. "Consider this a medicine cat's orders. And if anyone should gripe at you about it, tell them they can come speak to us."
Swiftcloud nodded weakly, eyes wide in shock at the stern tone Mistyleaf had acquired. She was too stunned to speak, in too much pain to even think. Instead, Swiftcloud turned herself around and brought herself out to the fresh-kill pile. The pile was the smallest that she had ever seen it. Swiftcloud knew a hunting party had recently returned home. Yet there was only a half sized mouse and a scrawny vole to choose from. Swiftcloud didn't care which she ate, all she knew now was that she needed this food. Just the smell of it alone reminded her of how hungry she truly was.
Out of desperation she gave into her temptations. Swiftcloud quickly snatched up the vole, pulling it close to her chest. The first bite she took was glorious. The flavors sang loudly on her tongue, and her stomach begged her to eat more. Swiftcloud consumed the rest of her meal in a matter of heartbeats, the delicious meat of the vole disappearing inside of her all too soon. For a moment, Swiftcloud felt satisfied. But the sight of the mouse still sitting there on the icy ground was calling to her. Well...I haven't eaten in a while. And Mistyleaf did say to eat, so... Swiftcloud got back to her paws. With claws extended she gripped the mouse up and pulled it towards her. As she was about to settle down to eat again, Rabbitstorm appeared through the bramble tunnel. His eyes were sunken, his expression miserable. In his grasp he held nothing, despite returning home from hunting. The lynx point tom practically dragged himself over to Swiftcloud, slumping into the snow as he sat beside her. Swiftcloud resisted the urge to whimper. She hated seeing her friend so defeated. Since Heatherwing had died, Rabbitstorm hadn't been the same. He was more work driven, and a bit snappier with others. It was almost as if he'd reverted back to an apprentice again; in personality at least. Although Rabbitstorm had become a bit clingier. When he wasn't doing work, he was spending time with his mother or siblings. And when they were too busy, he'd come to spend time with Swiftcloud. She was honored, honestly, that Rabbitstorm found comfort in her company. At least she thought he did. It was hard to tell. Regardless, Rabbitstorm's constant presence reassured her at least that the bond they had formed hadn't shifted back with his attitude.
Despite her stomach growling at her, urging her to go back to eating, Swiftcloud refused to do so. Instead, she pushed the mouse over to Rabbitstorm, showing him a soft smile. "Here. I think you could use this more than I can right now," she meowed. "I know it's not much, but-"
"Thank you," Rabbitstorm interrupted with a sigh of relief. He lowered his head, taking small bites of the prey in front of him. He leaned his larger body against Swiftcloud's, warming her with his long fur. Swiftcloud felt grateful for the tom's presence, and was happy to have a friend like him. In the beginning, Rabbitstorm had hated Swiftcloud. The two were practically rivals, insulting each other, playing tricks on one another. But after many moons they were finally getting along. Sure on occasion the two would pass on snarky remarks, but now it was all in good fun. Rabbitstorm wasn't such a bad cat. And Swiftcloud hoped that he thought the same of her.
Rabbitstorm let out a satisfied sigh as his mouse became nothing more than fur and bones. He purred, turning to groom Swiftcloud's shoulder. In return she cleaned his. For a few moments the pair shared tongues, comfortable in the silence that had settled between them. But a gust of cold wind blew through the camp, making the warriors jump to their paws. In silent agreement they walked with each other to enter the warmth of the warriors' den.
Here, the remaining healthy warriors of the clan were taking shelter. Most had been out not long ago, finishing patrols and returning empty pawed from their hunting parties. A gloom seemed to hang heavy in the hollowed stone den. Swiftcloud saw depression in some cats eyes. In one way or another, every cat was connected to the ill or starving. If they weren't among those directly suffering.
Quietly in the back of the den, Swiftcloud could see Cloverpetal crying. She hadn't eaten in nearly a quarter moon, and Swiftcloud knew the other molly was reaching her breaking point. But still, she refused food. She wanted everyone else to eat instead. Cloverpetal was a quiet, kind soul. She would never complain about anything, and would give someone the fur off her back if they needed it. But Swiftcloud thought the pale calico molly was being foolish. Still, she wouldn't say anything. Not long ago Swiftcloud was doing the same exact thing. She knew she had no right to judge.
In the center of the den, the clan's two remaining elders laid. Tornface was grooming his pelt, possibly trying to warm himself. While Smokesnout lay curled in a ball, his son Shadowfang beside him. The two toms were not very close, but Shadowfang still respected his father. In this trying time he was determined to provide the elderly tom some support, especially since he was the only family Smokesnout had left. Swiftcloud admired that in her mate. He cared, even if he didn't have much reason to. Smokesnout wasn't much of a father; he never showed the same compassion for his kit as Ashwhisker, the dam of his litter, did. But Shadowfang wouldn't hold it against him. Some cats weren't cut out to be parents.
Swiftcloud touched her nose to Rabbitstorm's ear gently as she tiptoed towards the center of the den. She settled by Shadowfang's side, giving his cheek a good rub with her own. Shadowfang purred a little from her affection, a warm glow in his eyes. But the glow swiftly dimmed as he turned his gaze back onto Smokesnout.
"He's gone," Shadowfang whispered only loud enough for his mate to hear.
Swiftcloud blinked in confusion. "W..what?"
"Smokesnout," Shadowfang clarified, licking the dusky elder's still shoulder. "He's dead."
Swiftcloud felt her heart drop into her paws, a ringing dulling her hearing. "What do you mean he's dead? H-how? When...?" She stammered, voice low.
Shadowfang sighed, looking melancholy. "A little while ago. I noticed he stopped breathing... But he's so peaceful, I don't want to take him from his nest yet."
"Shadowfang..." Swiftcloud pressed herself into her mate. "I'm so sorry... But, we shouldn't keep him here anymore. The clan will want to know he's gone; they'll want to mourn him."
"I know," Shadowfang sighed once more, rising to his paws. He bent his head, griping Smokesnout's body by the scruff. Swiftcloud stood to be with them. At once, the focus of the entire den fell upon them. Every cat's eyes were dark; a knowing look passing between each of them. Shadowfang tried not to pay attention, wanting to ignore the pity that would soon be passed onto him. Rabbitstorm came over as the mates began to take the elder out of the den. He moved to Smokesnout's free side, helping Shadowfang carry his father. The three warriors emerged into the windy Leaf-bare evening, placing Smokesnout's body in the center of camp. Here he would have an easier time traveling to Starclan, and here the rest of the clan could come to properly say goodbye.
"I should tell my dad," Shadowfang realized. "Im not sure if he'll come out right away, though. Pigeon's isn't doing well... But, I know him. He'll at least want to send Smokesnout off with a prayer." With his reasoning voice, the sleek black tom turned, stalking to the elder's den.
"I'll go inform the medicine cats," Rabbitstorm decided, heading off in the opposite direction.
Swiftcloud sat alone in the cold empty clearing, awaiting the arrival of others. She stood there, in the whistling wind, staring at the body in front of her. Smokesnout's fur ruffled in the breeze, the only movement to come from the elderly tom. Shadowfang had made sure to lay him down nicely. The old tom appeared as though he had fallen asleep. It was almost eerie.
This was the first casualty of many to come, Swiftcloud realized. The knowledge of that filled her with a terrible sense of dread. She knew things would only get worse from here on. And yet, there was still a small glimmer of hope left inside of her. The gathering would be soon. Maybe Grassclan could ask for prey and herbs from some of the others. The chances were slim, Swiftcloud knew, but she had to keep her chin up. If she gave up hope now, what else would she have?