Chapter 22: Feverish Recovery Days
Jaggedshadow woke up. His lungs ached. Every breath was a struggle. His sides also ached. In fact, there were few muscles that were not sore. Somehow, even his eyes were fatigued.
Jaggedshadow tried to stand, but something strong forced him back into the comfort of the medicine den's patient nest. His face was cold. Some cat must have placed a water-soaked piece of moss next to it.
He lapped at the moss, drawing the last of the cold, refreshing water from the moss. Even with his eyes closed, he could tell that Nightsong lay beside him, the sounds of his peaceful breaths almost drowned out by occasional passing breezes.
Jaggedshadow opened his eyes. It seemed to him that moons had passed since he last stood. Hazy moonlight poured into the medicine den, illuminating all but its most obscure corners with cool silver light. A shadow lay across his shoulders. He sat up.
Gentle but firm tongue strokes smoothed Jaggedshadow's ragged, unkempt neck fur. Jaggedshadow sat up once Nightsong finished grooming his neck. He tried to stand, but before he could move, Nightsong forced him back into the nest.
"Let me go. I am fine," Jaggedshadow growled, frustrated that his brother still kept him in the medicine den. He felt well, except that his sides ached, and he was fatigued.
"No," Nightsong told Jaggedshadow, "you must rest. You need your strength. It has all been arranged."
"What has been arranged?"
"A quest. One on which NightClan's fate depends."
"So-" Jaggedshadow stood. " -you planned a quest, involving me, without asking me if i wanted to take part?"
"Yes. Othtor wills it. Were you not listening to our conversation?"
"What conversation?"
"Forget it."
Jaggedshadow nodded, pushing Nightsong aside. I have better things to do than argue with you!
Nightsong leaped in front of him. "Go back to the nest. Rest there until I awake you. We leave tomorrow at sundown."
