A/N

Damn coronavirius be wildin'. I'm a senior in high school so I don't get to go to prom or my graduation and honestly it feels like I was robbed, though I know it can't be helped. Plus, my sister had to move her wedding so I don't get to meet my best friend of three years. But on the bright side I never have to leave my house. I left yesterday to get my testosterone shot so now I don't need to leave for another month.

Brambleflower: You have no idea how happy it makes me to read your reviews! Thanks for sticking around, and you stay safe and indoors too, wherever you are.

Chapter 7: Tender Heart

New-leaf had come and gone quickly, and the heat of green-leaf was beginning to ebb away, giving way to colder nights and cloudier skies. The grass on the moors had already begun to brown a bit, and the trees in ThunderClan were turning yellow as leaf-fall was on its way.

Sparrowstar was addressing the clan from atop the Highhill, a mound of earth where an old badger set was. It was Sparrowstar's den, but she preferred to sleep out under the stars with the rest of her clanmates. Turtlepaw and her brother, Applepaw, were standing beside the slim she-cat. Applepaw was much larger than her now.

"I, Sparrowstar, leader of WindClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as a warrior in their turn."

Tangletail and Yewtail, their mentors, were sitting at the base of the Highhill, both looking equally proud. Applepaw's tail was lashing nervously, but Turtlepaw looked as eager as ever. Runningpaw knew she had awaited this moment for moons.

"Applepaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?" asked Sparrowstar.

The dark ginger tom nodded.

Sparrowstar dipped her head. "Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Applepaw, from this moment you will be known as Applewhisker. StarClan honors your patience, and we welcome you as a full warrior of WindClan."

"Applewhisker! Applewhisker!" The clan chanted. Sparrowstar laid her chin on top of Applewhisker's head, and he licked her shoulder.

Sparrowstar turned to Turtlepaw. "Turtlepaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

The tortoiseshell she-cat bristled with anticipation. "Yes! I do!"

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Turtlepaw, from this moment you will be known as Turtleheart. StarClan honors your determination, and we welcome you as a full warrior of WindClan."

Turtleheart bowed her head as she licked Sparrowstar's shoulder, the thin she-cat resting her muzzle on top of the new warrior's head as the clan cheered her new name.

"Turtleheart! Turtleheart!" Runningpaw shouted the loudest. It was the first time he had seen her embarrassed, ears flicking under all the direct attention. Still, she stood tall and confident as ever.

Turtleheart leapt down from the Highill, briefly brushing muzzles with her former mentor, Yewtail, before making her way towards Runningpaw.

"I never thought it would be so nerve-wracking!" She exclaimed, licking a paw. "All of our clanmates, staring at me, cheering my name. It was amazing!"

"I'm proud of you," Runningpaw purred. Though she was only a moon older than him, it felt like she was much older now she was no longer a 'paw.

"You better be just as proud when I climb those ranks and become leader," Turtleheart scoffed, nudging his shoulder. "With Gorsesky's kits ready to be apprenticed soon, odds are Sparrowstar will choose me or Applepa- er, Applewhisker, to mentor one of them."

Runningpaw glanced over towards the nursery. It was true her kits, Harekit, Sandkit, and Furzekit were getting far too big for the nursery. Moonkit and Crowkit had been apprenticed two moons ago, now Moonpaw and Crowpaw.

"It might be too soon," Runningpaw meowed. "They'll likely go to more experienced warriors."

Turtleheart rolled her eyes. "Oh, let me hope." She was looking in the same direction as him, too. "Well, I suppose if I don't get one of them, I might get one of Grassclaw's kits."

The grey tabby queen was watching her kits- about two moons old now- walk on wobbly legs in an attempt to keep up with Gorsesky's kits. Mosskit bore a striking resemblance to her father, Perchfur, that it was like she was his clone. Silverkit, however, was more of a mix between both of her parents, with stripes like her mother but white paws like her father.

"I wonder if I'll ever have an apprentice…" Runningpaw muttered. Though he hated to think about it, one day Cloverwing would pass, and he would have to take an apprentice to continue the line of medicine cats.

"I bet you're glad you don't have to have a flashy ceremony like warriors do," Turtleheart teased. "You'd die on the spot from all that attention!"

"Leave me alone," Runningpaw scoffed, butting her in the shoulder. Turtleheart only laughed.

"Don't worry," she mewed. "I'll make sure when I'm leader, no one will bother you."

"Gee, thanks," Runningpaw said sarcastically.

Turtleheart's face lit up. "Hey! Maybe one of my future kits will want to be your apprentice! Wouldn't that be neat?"

"StarClan, Turtleheart, how can you have your whole life planned out?" Runningpaw sighed. "I don't even know what I'm doing tomorrow, let alone moons from now!"

Turtleheart smiled. "It makes me feel safer, I guess. I like thinking about what my life will be like. I know it probably won't go the way I want, but it's nice to dream."

"Well, then dream with me as we walk, cause I need to collect some herbs," Runningpaw said. "And bring someone else, too."

"Yewtail!" Turtleheart called. "Want to come with me and Runningpaw to collect some herbs?"

With a nonchalant shrug, the light ginger tabby stood and walked over to them. "Where are we going?" He asked.

"Into the Twoleg-place for some catmint," Runningpaw said as he padded through the heather barrier that guarded camp. "And we can get the other stuff on our way back."

"So we're your muscle for going into the Twoleg-place," Turtleheart purred. "Me and Yewtail got you covered."

"Hey, I can handle a few kittypets," Runningpaw scoffed. "Cloverwing taught me some simple moves after I had that run with that fox in ShadowClan a few moons ago, remember?"

"Well, there could always be rogues," Yewtail added.

"Cloverwing says the most that's happened is a few kittypets getting angry that she's on their territory," Runningpaw said, shrugging. "But still, I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"We should get going while we still have light, then," Turtleheart said, pushing forward.

As they walked the length of WindClan territory, Turtleheart recounted exactly how she imagined her future would go to Runningpaw. She had told him before, but it was something that she loved telling, from the excited tone her voice developed as she spoke.

"Yewtail," Runningpaw meowed. "Did Turtleheart tell you any of this while she was your apprentice?"

The tabby tom gave a short nod. "I like to think I helped her make it a reality."

Turtleheart purred. "You did. You're an amazing mentor, Yewtail."

Yewtail flicked an ear. "You were an amazing apprentice, too."

Runningpaw tuned them out as they began to bat compliments at each other back and forth. He had already been forced to listen to Turtleheart gush about how much she was in love with Yewtail for seven moons, and he wasn't about to bear witness to it now.

Lucky for him, it was fairly easy for him to get distracted. He watched as she sheep bayed as they grazed, and the dog that herded them paced the length of its territory watchfully. Runningpaw had been scared of the dog the first time, but learned that so long as he didn't get too close to the sheep, the dog was of no harm.

Parts of the grass had been flattened by monster tracks, ones that made loud noises and were different than the ones on the Thunderpath. Most of the time, they slept out of sight, but sometimes, Runningpaw would see them devouring the herbs that the Twolegs grew. The scent of sheep and horse was strong in the air, smelling heady and partly of dirt.

They came to a small Thunderpath, and the three of them stopped. The WindClan border stopped here, and the strange, flat dens of the Twolegs were just across the hard, black ground. The sour, acrid smell burned Runningpaw's nose and mouth, and he screwed up his face. He saw Turtleheart and Yewtail doing the same.

Runningpaw felt the earth rumble slightly. "Step back!" He hissed to the warriors, inching back with his belly low to the ground. A shiny blue monster with its round, black paws sped past, blowing hot hair into the three WindClan cats' faces as it zipped by.

They shrank back, fur standing up in alarm. "How are we going to cross?" Yewtail muttered.

"It'll be fine," Runningpaw meowed. "I've crossed it dozens of times with Cloverwing. We just go one at a time."

Swallowing his fear that never dulled every time he crossed the Thunderpath, Runningpaw hurled himself across the black ground. It was hot and sticky against his paws, but he knew better to lick it off. It always left a taste in his mouth worse than mouse bile.

When he reached the other side, everything was still quiet. "Now!" He shouted.

Turtleheart made the first move. In a flash of tortoiseshell fur, she was running across the Thunderpath with wild eyes. She let out a choking breath once she was across, coughing from the puke-worthy scent.

There was a low growling in the distance, signalling another monster coming. It flew past with glaring colors, and Runningpaw could see the Twolegs inside as it ran by.

Turtleheart gasped. "Do those things eat Twolegs?"

Runningpaw ignored her. "Yewtail, come on!"

The warrior hesitated for a moment before he nodded and launched himself forward. In a few seconds, Yewtail was across, pressing his bushed up pelt against Turtleheart's as they stood on the thin strip of grass.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" She managed.

"We'll have to do it again on our way back," Yewtail meowed, shuddering.

"It gets easier," Runningpaw offered. He knew it didn't sound like much, but it was what Cloverwing had told him, and it was true for the most part.

"We only have to go in one Twoleg nest," Runningpaw explained. "There's a kittypet who lives there, but its always inside the den so it won't bother us."

They walked along a different Thunderpath, one where the monsters slept in open dens and small, Twoleg territories were guarded by flat, wooden slats and reddish rocks. Barking exploded from behind one the fences, where a dog with a squished face was throwing its head back and forth as it spotted them.

Runningpaw jumped in the air in alarm, back arched and tail fuzzed. He relaxed slightly when he saw the silver vine connected to a stick in the ground, restricting the dog's movements. Turtleheart and Yewtail seemed to notice this too, as they calmed, but stayed alert.

Runningpaw stopped at a tall, white wooden fence, wiggling his haunches in preparation to jump. He landed on the skinny plank and jumped down into the Twoleg territory. He saw the kittypet lounging in the window, basking in the early sun. It caught sight of him, but paid him no mind.

The soft grass felt like it had barely been walked in, and it soothed his sore pads after walking on the rough Thunderpath. The tips of the blades were still damp with morning dew, and despite the scent of Twolegs heavy in the air, it was nice.

He knew catmint by scent, as almost every cat did. It was sweet smelling and mouth watering. It was nestled in a shady corner of the grass with drier soil, and the leaves glistened with dewdrops. Runningpaw tenderly nipped at the stems, the tiny hairs on it tickling his nose. Once he had gotten all he could carry without stripping the plant bare, Runningpaw leapt back up onto the fence and down to his clanmates.

"Oh my," a soft voice purred. "I've never seen you around here before."

Runningpaw turned around to see a kittypet making her way towards them. She smelled milky, but of no mother's milk he'd ever smelled before, and a Twoleg collar hung close to her neck.

Yewtail and Turtleheart unsheathed their claws, and the kittypet halted. "Hey, I'm only playin'," she said quickly.

"She's just a kittypet," Runningpaw meowed. "Let's go."

"I'm not just a kittypet," she chuckled. "I'm a lonely one." She made her way closer to Runningpaw, tail flicking under his chin.

Runningpaw blinked. "Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. But we really have to get going."

The kittypet batted her eyes at Runningpaw. "The name's Sweetie, but you can call me the she-cat of your dreams." A purr resonated in her throat as she pressed her side up against Runningpaw.

He was at a loss for words. Is she… He swallowed. "I'm a clan cat. We don't associate ourselves with kittypets."

Sweetie purred even deeper. "Oh, you can associate with me all you want, honey," she giggled. "I like my toms a little wild." She whispered the last word in his ear, and Runningpaw jumped back, her warm breath ruffling his ear fluff.

His stomach was knotting itself and he was feeling more and more uncomfortable with every passing moment. Yewtail and Turtleheart, however, seemed to be fully entertained by Sweetie's antics at that point. She was winding herself around Runningpaw, eyes hot and heavy as they met his.

Runningpaw pulled away, blood pounding in his ears. He could not have felt any less interested in that moment. Ravenpaw's question at the Gathering entered his mind. He shook his head.

"Yewtail, Turtleheart, we're leaving!" He said quickly, hiding his uneasy look from them as he marched ahead.

Sweetie sputtered as the three WindClan cats took off. "W- wait! At least let me know your name!"

Runningpaw ignored her and continued walking back towards the Thunderpath they had crossed to get there. He barely spared a glance in either direction before he bolted across the hard ground.

Turtleheart let out a cry as a monster flew by just as he touched down on the other side. She saw her opening and Yewtail followed as they crossed together.

"Are you insane!" Turtleheart gasped. "That monster would've flattened you!"

Runningpaw smoothed down his fur. "Well, it didn't."

Yewtail chuckled. "Someone didn't like being flirted with."

Runningpaw's ears shot up. "I- I'm a medicine cat!" He shrieked.

"Oh, come on," Yewtail said. "Admit you thought she was pretty cute."

"I think she was pretty cute," Turtleheart agreed.

Runningpaw lashed his tail, and turned, refusing to give them an answer. He heard them giggling behind him, and he did his best to ignore their hushed, teasing whispers.

"Ugh, I can't get that Thunderpath smell out of my nose," Yewtail groaned. "It feels like it's lingering in my mouth!"

Runningpaw sniffed the air. "It's not your mouth," he meowed. "I think it's rogues."

Turtleheart flexed her claws into the dirt. "Let's find 'em and chase 'em out!"

"I see them!" Yewtail gasped, sprinting down the slope. Runningpaw squinted, then his eyes went wide in alarm. Turtleheart had already taken off just after Yewtail.

"Stop! Stop!" Runningpaw cried, nearly tripping up as he ran down the hill, long legs slipping out from under him. "Wait!"

Yewtail and Turtleheart camp to halt just in front of three rogues. They were standing over a holly plant, and one of the rogues had the bright red berries in his mouth.

"Don't eat that!" Runningpaw gasped. "It's poison."

The rogue tom spat out the berries immediately. Yewtail and Turtleheart gave Runningpaw strange looks, but turned back to the rogues.

"You're on WindClan territory," Yewtail growled. "Leave before we make you."

"We know we're trespassing," the tom meowed. "But please, hear us out."

Runningpaw stared at the three rogues. The dirty white tom who had almost eaten the holly berries had a disgusting wound in the process of healing on his shoulder, and he was missing both an ear and an eye. His ribs were poking out, and the sour smell of infection floated off him.

Next to him, was a ginger tabby she-cat. Her eyes were sunken into her head like she hadn't slept in days, and her belly was round with kits. One of her hind toes looked like it had been broken, either by a predator or some other incident, as she refused to step on it.

Guarded by the tom and the she-cat was a raggedy light grey she-cat. Her pelt sagged on her old bones, and her fur was matted. Runningpaw could practically see the ticks and fleas itching at her. Her tail was kinked, and she walked like her bones had been troubling her for moons.

"We heard the clan cats have healers," the pregnant she-cat meowed softly. "We need help. Please." Her eyes were sad and tired.

"You're on our territory," Yewtail growled. "You think we're just going to let you wander on our land and steal our prey?"

"Yewtail, hold on," Runningpaw said. "They're sick."

"The warrior code states to challenge all trespassers," Yewtail snapped.

"And my medicine code says to care for all," Runningpaw retorted. "We're taking them back to camp."

"Are you sure?" Turtleheart asked hesitantly, glancing at the rogues. "They could be dangerous."

"I'm sure." Runningpaw looked back to the rogues. They looked barely strong enough to walk. There was no way they posed a threat to WindClan.

The trek back to their camp was silent and awkward. A chill ran through the open moors even with the sun at its peak. Large, puffy white clouds hung still in the sky, but with no trace of grey, Runningpaw wasn't concerned about it raining.

Yewtail had made the rogues walk in front of them. Although Runningpaw couldn't blame him for being careful, it was difficult to watch the weak rogues haul themselves painfully up the hills and ravines.

Some of the patches of grass and dirt were so dry that they crushed underfoot. The elderly she-cat took a stumble, and with it, kicked up a cloud of dirt dust. Perhaps some rain wouldn't be too bad after all. Runningpaw thought.

Runningpaw went straight to Sparrowstar's den. "Sparrowstar!"

"Yes?" came the answer through the lichen.

Runningpaw pushed through the lichen. Sparrowstar was laying delicately in her nest, with her little paws tucked neatly under her chest. Though he had spoken to her many times, she never failed to intimidate him.

"I, uh- we- we found some rogues on the territory," he stuttered.

Sparrowstar sat up. "Is anyone hurt?"

Fox-dung. I should've worded that better. "No, no! No one is hurt."

Sparrowstar relaxed. "Then what's the issue?"

"It's just…" Spit it out! "They're really sick. I feel like we need to help them. I mean, they came to us for help."

The WindClan leader was standing now. She walked past Runningpaw and out of her den. "Let me see these rogues," Sparrowstar said assertively.

The three rogues were in the center of camp, drawing everyone's attention. Gorsesky and Grassclaw were holding their kits back with their paws. Moonpaw and Crowpaw were staring at the rogues curiously, but neither of them made a move.

"Let me see your paw," Runningpaw said to the white tom.

Hesitantly, he offered his paw to Runningpaw. He pressed his nose gently to the rogue's paw pad. It was hot to the touch. "See, Sparrowstar? His pad is warm," he mewed. "He's got a fever."

Runningpaw was just about to inspect the elderly she-cat when he heard Cloverwing's cry from the medicine den. "No, Runningpaw!" She screeched. "Stay away from them!"

Runningpaw recoiled in surprise, ears flat. "Why? They need our help." He twisted his head around to Sparrowstar, looking at her pleadingly, but her face was unreadable.

"Leaf-fall will be here soon, and then leaf-bare, and we have no herbs to spare," Cloverwing meowed. "Go wash that sickness off your muzzle, Runningpaw."

He opened his mouth to protest. "But, Cloverwing-"

"They must leave," she insisted. "We don't want them spreading anything, especially now."

Runningpaw blinked. She was talking about Sparrowstar's remaining two lives. Only himself, Cloverwing, and the deputy, Perchfur were aware of such privy information.

"They're of no threat to us in this state," Runningpaw blurted. "I can help them, I know I can!"

"Sick cats are prone to even worse diseases," Cloverwing growled. "Surely you should know that after everything I've taught you. They'll get greencough and spread it to the whole clan."

Cats edged back as they heard the mention of greencough. They were lucky enough to only have whitecough last season, but with such a short green-leaf, everyone was nervous. The pregnant rogue began to cough, spasms racking her fragile body.

"Please, let me help them," he begged, turning his attention to Sparrowstar.

"Cloverwing is right," Sparrowstar murmured. Runningpaw could guess what she was thinking. "These rogues must leave. Runningpaw, you will see them to the border."

There were scattered noises of approval at her decision, but Sparrowstar cut them short. "Back to your dens," she told her clan, tail wisping out behind her. It was clear her decision troubled her.

Cloverwing lingered for a moment. "Be sure to wash your muzzle in the river. I won't be happy if you catch anything from those rogues."

Wordlessly, Runningpaw dipped his head. He nodded to the rogues, beginning to escort them out of camp. They trudged behind him, and he could hear the pregnant she-cat crying softly into the fur of her mate. His heart ached with the desire to do something.

Runningpaw let out a pained sigh. They were out of earshot from his clanmates, and he stepped in front of them. "I'm going to help you get better," he swore.

"But your leader," the she-cat sniffed. "She said no."

"She's wrong," Runningpaw said. "I have a duty, and that's to help sick cats. And that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"What will you do?" The white tom asked.

"Stay close, but out of sight," he replied. "I'm going to take you to an old badger set."

Hunkering downwind, Runningpaw led them near the RiverClan side of the border. The river was moving slowly, glimmering with white sparkles on the surface. The ground got softer as they got closer to the river, and Runningpaw pressed his nose to the dirt.

Quickly, he picked up the very stale scent of badger. "This way," he whispered.

He ducked down into the hole and gave it a sniff. Nothing had been there for moons, and although it was dark, it held warmth well. He stepped back. "Go on in," Runningpaw told them.

The tom went in first, giving the musty air a wary sniff. Deciding it was suitable, he led his mate in, and the elder she-cat followed.

"Will you get in trouble?" The pregnant she-cat whimpered.

"I don't know," he said. That was a lie. He was going directly against not only Sparrowstar, but Cloverwing. He would most certainly get into trouble. That's only if I'm caught.

"Thank you, young one," the elder she-cat croaked. It was the first time she had spoken, and now Runningpaw knew why. He made a mental note to bring her something for her throat.

"Tell me your names," Runningpaw meowed. "I'll need to know it's you."

"I'm King," the white tom said. "And this here's my girl, Cookie. That's my ma, there. You can call her Nan."

"Alright. I'm Runningpaw," he said. "I'll be back after the sun goes down. Don't leave this set unless you want to be attacked."

He was sure to splash water on his face from the river before heading back to WindClan. Though he wanted to help them, he'd rather do his best to not get sick from them as well. Cloverwing sniffed him thoroughly when he returned, and only when she deemed him clean did she let him touch their herb supply.

"I think I'm going to go to sleep early," Runningpaw mewed. The sun was turning the horizon dark. "I'm tired from walking around the territory all day."

Cloverwing gave him a long stare, and then nodded. "You may rest."

Truthfully, Runningpaw wasn't tired. His mind was working a mile a minute, going over what herbs they could spare for the three rogues. Wind blew heavily into the medicine den, tossing up some of the herbs and chilling Runningpaw to his bones. He was tapping the tip of his tail anxiously as he waited for Cloverwing to settle in her nest.

It was well past sunset when Runningpaw heard Cloverwing's breathing evening as she fell into a slumber. Faint rays of starlight shone into the den, but Runningpaw slept in the back of the den, where it was plunged into complete darkness.

When he heard a snore escape Cloverwing's nose, Runningpaw knew he was in the clear. With light paws, Runningpaw got up from his nest. His eyes were adjusted to the dark by now and burned from being awake so long, but his determination kept him from dozing.

Having already gone over his mental checklist of herbs he knew they could spare, Runningpaw quickly gathered the horsetail Ravenpaw had given him those moons ago. Packing it into some dock to carry it all together, Runningpaw added some moss soaked with honey, borage, burnet, and cobweb.

Casting a glance at Cloverwing who was still snoring softly, Runningpaw slipped out of the den. He was pushing his luck, as Turtleheart and Applewhisker were sitting vigil, but he snuck around the back of the thick gorse brambles of the nursery den and bounded down towards the river.

The moors looked different at night, so as he got closer to the water, Runningpaw let his nose guide him. The freshwater smelled cool in the night, and it almost masked the rancid tang of sickness coming from the badger set he had hidden the rogues in.

"King?" Runningpaw whispered. It was far too dark inside the den for him to see. It was like looking into a starless sky. "Cookie? Nan?" Their names felt foreign on his tongue, like a different language.

There was a long silence before he heard a voice. "Runningpaw? Is that you?" It was Cookie. Her voice sounded meek.

"Yes," he answered, and stepped further inside.

King was on the ground, face contorted in pain. His legs were thrashing as he tossed and turned. Runningpaw dashed forward and knelt at the tom's side.

"What happened?" He exclaimed, looking over the tom with panic.

"I don't know," Cookie cried. "He said he felt dizzy and so he went to lay down. Next thing I knew he was moving about like something was attacking him!"

Runningpaw felt like his brain was working twice as fast. "I need mugwort! It's green and by the river. It smells like sage. Hurry!"

Cookie bolted out of the den. It was the only time Runningpaw had seen her look so full of energy. Nan was fast asleep in the darkness, throaty snores echoing. Cookie must not have wanted to wake her, thought Runningpaw.

Cookie was back in a flash, mugwort tangled in her mouth. She spat it out on the ground at his paws. "I hope this is it," she whined. They had been haphazardly torn up, but it was definitely the mugwort.

"It is, thank you," Runningpaw said quickly. He chewed up the leaves into a fine paste as fast as he could. "I need you to open his mouth."

Cookie was shaking, but she took a deep breath and did as told. She steadied King's head and pried open his jaws, trying to keep him still. She was whispering gentle words in his ear that Runningpaw couldn't make out. Runningpaw let the mugwort paste slide down King's throat, pushing on his throat to get it to go all the way down his esophagus.

A few moments went by, and King stopped convulsing. His breaths were shallow, but steady. Runningpaw pressed an ear to his chest to listen to his heartbeat. It was fast, though there were no signs of irregularities. Cookie let out a heavy sigh of relief.

"Thank you, thank you," she sobbed, burying her face into Runningpaw's shoulder. "You are sent from the stars!"

Runningpaw felt his heart go out to her. "I brought some herbs. I would've brought food, too, but I can't hunt very well."

Cookie shook her head. "Anything you can spare is good enough."

Runningpaw started by examining Cookie. She was pretty far along, and expecting four kittens. He was sure to give her borage and burnet to keep her strength up.

"I noticed your toe is broken," Runningpaw meowed. "May I see?"

She stretched out her right hind leg, where one of her toes was swollen and twisted at an ugly angle. "I haven't been able to walk on it," she admitted. "I fell from a dumpster."

Though Runningpaw had no clue what a dumpster was, he could tell the bone needed to be pushed back into place in order for it to heal properly. He gave Cookie a warning as he did so, but she queen made no noise of pain when he set it.

"I've felt worse," she whispered. Runningpaw wrapped her foot tightly with cobwebs, and finished by tying it in place by cobwebs he fetched by the river.

"You can place a little bit of weight on it now," Runningpaw said. "But continue to favor your other leg until its healed."

Runningpaw opened up the dock leaves he used to pack the herbs he brought. "Make sure Nan drinks this honey when she wakes up," he said, pushing the bundle of moss towards Cookie. "It'll help her throat."

Cookie was nodding intently as Runningpaw explained the uses of the herbs to her. Her amber eyes were focused on everything he was saying. "Repeat it back to me," Runningpaw told her.

She pointed to the borage first. "Blue flower for King's fever, bushy green one for his infection, honey for Nan's throat, and the spiky one to stave off hunger." Though she had forgotten the names of the herbs, she still understood what he had explained to her.

"I'll be back in the morning," Runningpaw said. "Stay further inside the den to keep from my clanmates smelling you. I'll try to bring you some food then."

Cookie thanked him profusely once more, and Runningpaw made his way back to WindClan camp. He splashed his muzzle with water from the river again, though he was sure they had nothing contagious he could catch anyways.

When he tiptoed into the medicine den, Cloverwing stirred, and he froze in his tracks. She rolled over and let out a snore. He breathed a sigh of relief and quietly collapsed into his nest. Exhaustion snatched him like a hawk does to a mouse, and he was quickly enveloped in a dreamless sleep.

When he woke, he felt like he had only just gone to sleep. Dawn light poured in the den, and Cloverwing's nest was empty. He stretched, body sore, and poked his head out of the den. Though the camp was bustling now, Cloverwing had likely gone on the dawn patrol to pick some herbs.

The crisp air pricked at his thin pelt, and he gave a little shiver. He glanced at the fresh-kill pile, ripe with prey. Someone will see me if I take something… I should try catching something.

Looking around to make sure no one was watching him, Runningpaw moved to slip past the heather barrier, when a voice stopped him.

"Just where do you think you're going?" It was Cloverwing, tail flicking lazily. Her eyes were narrowed at him with suspicion.

Runningpaw fidgeted. "I'm going to the river. We're low on coltsfoot. I thought I could get some in case of kitten-cough."

Cloverwing took a moment before she dipped her head, and Runningpaw darted off. He hadn't expected Cloverwing to still have been in camp. Had the dawn patrol already returned, or had she been waiting for him to wake? Either way, Runningpaw made his way towards the badger set where he had hidden the rogues.

He smelled lapwing on the breeze, and crouched low. He remembered Turtleheart had showed him how to catch them when she first learned, but he hadn't been able to get the jump down right. Regardless, searching for other prey would waste time, and he could already spot the lapwing nest a few fox-lengths ahead of him.

Runningpaw crawled forward, eyes locked on the heather nest. There was only one lapwing, and if it had young or eggs, he couldn't see from where he was. He sprang forward, paws outstretched.

The lapwing noticed him quickly, and it flew up, his claws grazing one of its wings. Runningpaw landed clumsily, but leapt up in the air once more. The lapwing was injured, and fluttered awkwardly as it tried to get away. This time, Runningpaw pinned it down, snapping its neck mid cry.

Not my proudest kill, Runningpaw thought, but I'll take it. He picked it up by the tail feathers and sprinted down the grassy hillock, delving into a thick line of heather. The dusty pollen made him feel the urge to sneeze, but he ignored it, and shook out his fur once he was free of it.

Gorse was scattered all around the fields, yellow against the pale green, in thick swathes. He saw some honey bees flitting around the flowers, a still sign green-leaf was not yet finished.

Without calling, Runningpaw ducked into the badger set. King and Nan were awake, and they jumped a bit when he entered. Cookie was rubbing some horsetail into King's infected shoulder.

"Ah, Runningpaw!" Cookie exclaimed. "I'm worried I'm not doing this right."

Runningpaw took a look. "No, you're doing fine," he said. "You just want to pick away the dry bits of scab to really get it into the wound. We want the horsetail to clear up the infection."

"Runningpaw!"

Runningpaw turned around, wide-eyed at having been caught. There, standing in the mouth of the badger den, was Cloverwing. Her tail was lashing crossly and he felt small under her sharp glare.

"You're given a direct order by Sparrowstar and you respond by going behind not only her back, but mine?" Cloverwing growled.

"Please, don't punish him!" begged Cookie. "He has a good heart! Without him, King would be dead."

The white tom bowed his head. "And you have my thanks for that, Runningpaw."

Cloverwing looked between Runningpaw and the rogues. He could see her face switching between anger and pity. Finally, her troubled eyes closed, and she sighed.

"Runningpaw, I am not happy you disobeyed me or Sparrowstar," she said. Runningpaw's stomach did a flip that made him feel sick. "However, I can tell you feel strongly about this. You have the makings of a true medicine cat."

He felt his spirits rise. "Oh, Cloverwing, thank you! Does this mean they can stay?"

"Not so fast," she said sharply. "You still went against Sparrowstar."

Runningpaw lifted his chin defiantly at her. "I'd do it again."

"I know you would," Cloverwing said. "Which is why this time I will help you. But only until they are strong enough the travel." She turned to the three rogues. "Then you must leave."

Cookie nodded rapidly. "Yes, yes, we will. King says he feels better already, and that honey really helped Nan's throat."

Nan purred, still sounding raspy but less pained. "I almost feel young again." There was a twinkle in her eyes that Runningpaw was delighted to see.

"I brought you food," Runningpaw said, pushing the lapwing towards them. "I know it's not much… I'm not a very good hunter."

"It's more than enough," Cookie said gratefully. "Here, King. You haven't eaten in days." She pulled apart a meaty piece and nosed it to her mate.

"You need it more than I do," King insisted. "You've got to eat for the kittens too."

"I'll fetch you something else," Cloverwing said, standing. "I trust you have them handled?"

Runningpaw nodded. "Will you bring some feverfew on your way back? The borage didn't break King's fever."

Cloverwing nodded, a faint smile on her lips as she left the set. Runningpaw turned to King. "Alright, so Cookie put the horsetail on that wound," he meowed. "Next, we wrap it with cobwebs to keep it protected. Tomorrow, wash it out with some water, apply more horsetail, and then fresh cobwebs. Understand?"

King nodded as Runningpaw pressed the cobwebs onto his shoulder. He didn't complain about the pain, just as Cookie didn't. "I saw you fixed Cookie's foot," said King.

"It should heal rather quickly," Runningpaw answered. "It looked like a fresh break. Just make sure she doesn't push herself."

King nodded. "It's my job to take care of her and Nan."

Nan let out a grumble. "I can take care of myself, King."

"Tell that to your ticks, ma," King retorted.

Nan let out a raspy chuckle and settled back down, nipping at her tail where a tick was probably bothering her.

"I'll bring some mouse bile by next time," Runningpaw promised.

Cloverwing returned with a mouse that Cookie forced King to eat while she shared the lapwing with Nan. King took the feverfew without protest at its flavor, something that Cloverwing seemed a bit taken aback by.

"Crowfood tastes worse, believe me," King chuckled wryly as he swallowed the feverfew.

Runningpaw cared for the rogues over the course of a quarter-moon. Nan was free of her ticks, which had totaled in eight being removed by the mouse bile. King was starting to look less starved now that he was being hunted for, and his fever had broken. His infected wound had started to scab, and all three of them seemed to be much healthier than when they arrived.

On their final day, Runningpaw went to see them off. "I brought some marigold," he said. "It does the same thing as horsetail. Just in case the infection comes back."

Cookie purred. It was the first time he'd heard her do such a thing. "Thank you very much, Runningpaw."

"We will forever be in your debt," King meowed. "Is there anything we can do to repay you?"

"You can stay healthy," Runningpaw said firmly. Nan let out a barking laugh. "Look, there's a barn west of here. It's got lots of mice. I'm sure you can rest there."

Cookie leaned into King. "That sounds nice. We could stay safe from the weather when I give birth."

"We'll head there, then," King agreed. He flicked his tail to Runningpaw. "May our paths cross again."

Runningpaw felt his ears burn a little. Though he was scarred, he couldn't help but admire King. His coat was snow white now, free of dirt and grime. His missing ear and eye did nothing to take away from his rugged looks; in fact, they reinforced his tough look.

Runningpaw gulped. "I'm glad to have been of service."

He watched them trot off in the direction of the barn, where dark evergreens casted deep shadows. Dawn peeked over the treeline and shone through the gaps in thick leaves. He felt Cloverwing walk up behind him.

"You did good," she said softly.

Runningpaw met her eyes. They were genuine, green glimmering with pride he had never seen before. He could feel her satisfaction coming off her in waves.

For once, Runningpaw actually too, felt pleased with himself.

A/N

Whoops I made this chapter really long lmao