Oh, no, Cinderpaw thought despairingly. No, no, no, no, no!
She stared at her mentor in horror. Fireheart seemed to be struggling to stay standing. Blood was streaming and dripping from multiple wounds, each at a different stage of infection and severity. Cinderpaw wished she could just run up to the flame-colored tom and tell him it would be okay. They would get him to Yellowfang. But they were in Twolegplace, not very close to the medicine cat den back at ThunderClan's camp.
Her brother, Brackenpaw, pressed his golden-brown tabby pelt against her gray fur. As their pelts brushed, Cinderpaw wished she wasn't so worried about every cat - that she wasn't so caring. Then she felt guilty for wishing that. She remembered her mother, Frostfur, telling her that there was nothing wrong with being empathetic. She had said it was more of a strength instead of a weakness.
But now... Now she stood there, staring at her battered and bloodied mentor, and she couldn't help but wish that. The pain of seeing him coursed through her veins as she involuntarily put herself in Fireheart's paws. She imagined what it would be like in his position - pain seared through her entire body, rattling her brain as she tried to stop it.
Brackenpaw glanced at his siter. Cinderpaw saw his amber eyes flicker with sympathy. "It's okay," he whispered to her. "Fireheart will make it through this. I know he will."
"I know," she told her brother "I just wish I weren't so empathetic at times."
"Cinderpaw," Brackenpaw mewed, his voice barely audible. "Remember what Frostfur said: 'Being empathetic isn't a weakness. It isn't a curse. It's a strength, an advantage.'"
Cinderpaw remained silent, wishing her brother wouldn't remind her of that conversation. But then he went on, "Cinderpaw, think of being empathetic as an advantage in body. Size and speed are advantages, just as strength and wits are too. Your empathy is just like a strength in battle."
Her blue eyes lit up with hope. Brackenpaw always knew how to make her feel better. She turned her gaze to look at Fireheart again. Cinderpaw felt Longtail stiffen beside her. Wait- Longtail? Why is Longtail so concerned about Fireheart? I thought he hates him.
She noticed a little bit of a moony look in his pale green-blue eyes. Oh, great StarClan. He has a crush on my mentor.
"Fireheart," the brown tabby she-cat hissed.
Nutmeg raised her paw, claws unsheathed. Cinderpaw realized Nutmeg was getting ready for a killing blow. Fireheart didn't move. She struck his shoulders and he staggered, shaking his head. He stared up at the she-cat with a look of sadness in his green eyes. Why Fireheart looked like that, Cinderpaw didn't know.
"I'm not going to hurt you!" he meowe.
"Coward!" Nutmeg yowled, striking him again.
Out of the corner of her eye, Cinderpaw spotted Graystripe try to get to Fireheart, but Bluestar barred his way with her tail. "This is Fireheart's fight," Bluestar muttered. "Not ours."
"No son of mine would deny a fight," hissed Nutmeg.
"Well," Fireheart retorted. "I will."