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Spottedleaf's death left a hole in the Clan that no other cat could fill. Who would heal them if they got sick or injured?
Even Tigerclaw seemed concerned. Bluefur overheard him talking to Thistlestar one day: "ShadowClan has the advantage in this fight; even if they've lost one medicine cat, they still have another."
Thistlestar dismissed his worries. "We are warriors. We can still defeat them in battle."
And battle they did. It was a common occurrence for a cat to raise an alarm call now, to inform their Clanmates of ShadowClan or RiverClan trespassing on large swaths of land. And as much as Thistlestar maintained that ThunderClan would be fine without a medicine cat, it didn't stop an undercurrent of fear from sweeping through the ThunderClan camp.
There were no serious injuries at first, but it soon became obvious that most cats had no idea what to do with herbs. Brindleface and Mosstail had taken to collecting familiar looking leaves and setting them out in front of the medicine den as they had seen Spottedleaf so many times, relying on vaguely remembered conversations with the former medicine cat in hopes that they would stumble upon the proper procedure for storing herbs and working out their identities. Most of their hard work ended up for naught- even if they determined what the herbs were, much of the supply rotted in the warm, humid greenleaf air.
As the moon went on, the sense of panic grew among the ThunderClan cats. Several elders fell ill, and despite cats' best efforts, their condition worsened with each passing day. The fighting with ShadowClan continued; there was a small skirmish by the Thunderpath, and a short few days later Longtail and Sandpaw developed infected wounds. Bluefur was hopeful that their youth would help them fight off the infection even if they couldn't receive the proper herbs, and thankfully, within a quarter moon they had recovered enough to patrol again. But she knew every cat wouldn't be so lucky.
Frostfur's injury healed to the point that she could take on reduced warrior duties, but no cat was sure whether her choice in herbs worked or if it was just luck. Either way, her improvement did nothing to convince Thistlestar of the importance of having a cat well-trained in healing herbs, in spite of other cats growing sicker all around them.
It didn't take long for it to become obvious that Thistlestar was unwilling to enter into a negotiation. During a Clan meeting, Bluefur proposed asking another Clan's medicine cat for advice; perhaps ThunderClan could send a warrior to apprentice under them. Unsurprisingly, Thistlestar was having none of it.
"Send one of our warriors to another Clan?" he snarled after Bluefur suggested the idea. "Have you gone mad?"
Other cats had objections to her plan as well. "We haven't any warriors to spare if ShadowClan continues to attack," Longtail spoke up. "And surely no Clan would train an enemy warrior for nothing in return. They would have us exchange territory or prey-"
"Then that is what we must do." Bluefur's meow had carried through the clearing. Ultimately, while her protests had earned her sympathetic looks from some of the cats, no other warrior spoke up.
Several days later, Bluefur was about to head out on a hunting patrol when she noticed one of her kits near the medicine den. Mistyfur was examining a heap of herbs and leaves, her tail twitching in concentration. She was gingerly setting aside a few pieces when Thistlestar stalked up.
"You're wasting your time," Thistlestar growled.
Mistyfur continued sifting through the leaves as though she hadn't heard him. "Speckletail's paw is infected. I'm bringing her herbs."
Thistlestar lashed his tail. "Just put some cobwebs on it."
"Cobwebs will hardly do if she's coming down with a fever," Mistyfur replied curtly, lifting up a limp pile of stems. Speckletail was curled up in the shadow of the warriors' den, her swollen paw tucked close to his chest. Speckletail is getting old, Bluefur realized. She didn't usually think of the nursery queen as an elder, but seeing the halting rise and fall of her flank Bluefur could believe it. The pale tabby was long past the age many cats retired.
Mistyfur was still peering down at the herbs, frowning, as Thistlestar continued to watch her through narrowed eyes. He was clearly irritated at being ignored. Twitching her ears, Bluefur glanced around. Other cats were watching the exchange; Runningwind, Brindleface, and Mosstail were staring openly, while Stoneclaw sat a few tail-lengths off, his ears angled toward the Clan leader.
Thistlestar's voice was dangerously low. "Well, it will hardly help if you don't know the herbs." He jerked his chin toward Mistyfur's cache of leaves. "Do you even know what that is?"
Mistyfur leveled a defiant glare at Thistlestar. "Perhaps we could ask one of the other Clans' medicine cats."
Muffled stunned mews rose up. The gray tabby tom's head snapped toward Mistyfur. "We certainly will not. Some of our cats may be sick, but they are recovering. Asking the other Clans for help would be a waste of time."
Mistyfur stared at him. "Longtail and Sandpaw are well enough, but Speckletail is dying."
A thorn of emotion pierced Bluefur's chest; she was unsure if it was anxiety, fear, pride, or a mixture of the three. No cat but herself had ever challenged Thistlestar like this before.
Thistlestar loomed above Mistyfur, his spiky gray fur bristling. "Have you no loyalty? We are ThunderClan. We take care of ourselves, not rely on others who would slash our throats the moment we turn our backs."
"Rosetail is ill as well," Bluefur meowed, hoping to get a reaction from the mention of Thistlestar's littermate, but he merely twisted an ear.
"Do you think I don't know that?" Thistlestar hissed. "She will be fine- she has been sick plenty of times before." It was then that Thistlestar must have noticed the group of gathered cats. Pelt rising, he whipped around to face them. "Return to your duties, all of you! Haven't you anything better to do than to loaf around the camp?!" The cats hastily scrambled away, and Thistlestar turned on his heel and stalked to his den.
"This is absurd. We can't go on like this." Mistyfur gave a tiny shake of her head, but didn't voice the thought Bluefur knew must be going through her mind. We need a medicine cat. Not taking her eyes off Thistlestar, Bluefur mewed her agreement.
To Bluefur's dismay, cats began to talk of kidnapping another Clan's medicine cat.
Most only supported the plan if they captured one from ShadowClan- after all, they were the ones responsible for the loss of Spottedleaf. A few, namely Darkstripe, thought they should kidnap the medicine cat from RiverClan or WindClan, since those Clans would least expect it and ThunderClan would have the highest chance of success.
One night a group of warriors settled together near the edge of the warriors' den. Bluefur lay a short distance off, trying to get some rest, but it was difficult with so many cats hanging about.
"We'll need to launch the attack soon," Darkstripe was meowing for the fifth time. Mousefur and Longtail were sharing tongues beside him, listening intently. "I'd say take one from ShadowClan, but any of them is fine by me."
"It would serve them right for murdering our medicine cat," Mousefur added darkly. Beside her, Longtail meowed his agreement.
"Right, exactly." Darkstripe nodded vigorously. "Thistlestar will have to change his mind soon, if cats keep getting infected wounds."
"Stop this foolish talk," Bluefur snapped. "We are not going to steal a medicine cat." The three warriors turned to face her. Mousefur flicked her ears guiltily, but Darkstripe glowered at her, his green eyes slits.
"Then what do you suggest?" Darkstripe shoved his muzzle in her face.
Bluefur had no response, or at least none that Darkstripe would accept.
"See, you have no answer," he sneered. "Thistlestar is right about you. You're a coward and a traitor!"
Before Bluefur could defend herself, Stoneclaw spoke up. "Think about it like this, Darkstripe." He sat up, ear twitching. "Medicine cats may not have fighting skills, but we can hardly expect one to allow us to calmly lead them from their camp. Are you ready to threaten a medicine cat and drag them screeching and yowling all the way from their territory to ours? And are you ready to keep them as ThunderClan's prisoner, because there is no doubt they'd try to escape?"
"We'd have to spare a cat from patrolling to guard them," Mosstail pointed out.
Frostfur added her mew to the din. "We won't have cats to spare at all if we do nothing."
"Enough of this." Bluefur quieted the warriors with a sharp glare. "There is no point in speaking of these things. Something like this is Thistlestar's decision to make." For once Bluefur was grateful for Thistlestar's stubbornness. He continued to insist that ThunderClan had no need for a medicine cat, though from what Bluefur could tell Tigerclaw was all in on a plan to capture a medicine cat. The deputy continued to try to sway the Clan leader, with limited success. Thistlestar probably thinks it will make him look weak if he changes his mind, she mused, turning her back on the younger warriors.
Bluefur always objected to these plans. She was disturbed that so many cats would abandon the warrior code. However desperate ThunderClan was, they could not stoop so low. They could survive without stealing another Clan's medicine cat. How, she did not know, but not like this.
In the end, it hadn't mattered anyway. Discussions of kidnapping one of ShadowClan's medicine cats were quashed in one terrible instance when Thistlestar led a patrol that found an elderly ShadowClan cat deep in ThunderClan territory, several tree-lengths from the sandy hollow. The she-cat claimed to be a rogue, but Thistlestar was convinced she had been sent to spy. He killed her, and it was only later that Bluefur saw the body and pointed out that the 'rogue' was one of ShadowClan's medicine cats.
"You can't seriously believe that this starving cat was a threat." Bluefur's legs shook as she scrutinized the she-cat's broken body. The elder's matted gray pelt was smeared with blood, and though her fur was long and tangled it could not hide the outline of her ribs.
Thistlestar snorted. "You soft-hearted fool, this cat was obviously a spy. ThunderClan would have gained nothing by letting her live." He flicked his tail at Darkstripe; the dark warrior had kept watch over the area while patrols were sent to search for more intruders. "Bury this disgusting creature."
Dipping his head, Darkstripe grasped the skinny body and dragged it toward the hole he had prepared. When he was done piling soil into the grave he shook out his paws. "Ugh, I'll have to check myself for fleas tonight."
Bluefur was shaking now, but for a different reason. She was distantly familiar with this cat, and fairly certain that the elder was not a traitor to the warrior code. Yellowfang, Bluefur recalled. Her name was Yellowfang. True, Yellowfang could have been a spy- Bluefur could not know for certain- but after such a long life, she deserved to be treated with respect. Not only hade Thistlestar killed the elder, but he had completely disregarded her burial ceremony.
As Bluefur followed Thistlestar and Darkstripe back to camp, the full weight of what had happened crashed down and her fury renewed itself once again. While Bluefur in no way condoned kidnapping a medicine cat, this ShadowClan cat might have been ThunderClan's only chance to gain one. Yellowfang might have been convinced to help ThunderClan since she had apparently been exiled, but there was no way that would happen now.
Bluefur hoped for the Gathering to come soon, but the moon expanded from a claw to an orb as slowly as it always did.