Fawnpaw kept her eyes and nose pealed for herbs and medicine as she padded along with the patrol to the WindClan camp. She doubted any of the herbs in camp would be any good if the Clan hadn't had a medicine cat. She would need to come out later and collect some.

It was eerily familiar following along with the patrol. It reminded her of home. Now, it had seemed like days since she had been annoying Stagpaw during the patrol. Looking at Oakpaw she saw a ghost of her brother. He didn't look anything like her flesh and blood but his brown pelt reminded her of Stagpaw.

The cats in front of Fawnpaw slowed as they approached a hollow surrounded by gorse. From the scents within she could tell this was WindClan's camp. They entered the camp through a gorse tunnel and cats murmured mews of welcome to the patrol. However, several pairs of eyes stopped and stared at Fawnpaw as they noticed her. One such pair of brown eyes belonged to a she-cat with a golden tabby coat.

"Marshstrike, who do we have here?" The she-cat spoke to the brown warrior flicking her tail at the Fawnpaw.

"Honeystar," the warrior dipped his head. "This is Fawn. We found her on the edge of the territory. She knows medicine; she fixed Oakpaw's paw."

The leader looked at Fawnpaw for a moment. "Let us speak in private," she said before turning away. The young brown she-cat followed Marshstrike and Honeystar to the far side of camp. Of course, the WindClan leader had no den. Only the medicine cat, queens and elders had dens. WindClan warriors preferred to sleep under Silverpelt.

"You know medicine, Fawn?" Honeystar asked her as she wrapped her white-tipped tail over her golden paws.

Fawnpaw nodded. "My mother taught me." The lie was easier now that she had told it before. "She was always ill. Something chronic that couldn't be healed but was manageable with herbs." She had thought up the lie on the walk to the camp. A half-lie, anyway.

"And you'd be willing to join WindClan? To become our Medicine Cat?" The golden leader questioned.

She nodded again. "I'm been alone, you see, since my mother passed," Fawnpaw lied through her teeth. "Since then I've been traveling. When I ran into your Clan I saw Oakpaw's swollen paw and couldn't fathom why it had gotten so infected. I felt a need to help him and heal his paw. I think it might be my calling to come and heal your Clan." She dipped her head in respect. "If you'll have me, of course."

"I believe WindClan may be in your debt, Fawn," Honeystar said to her. "You'll save our Clan. However, StarClan must accept you. As Medicine Cat you will be WindClan's link to our ancestors and it is vital they approve of you. You can travel to Moonstone tomorrow night to speak with them. It'll be a half-moon then, the night all medicine cats talk to StarClan." Fawnpaw's heart suddenly began to race. She hadn't even thought about this time's StarClan! What if they won't accept me because I'm not from this time? What will I do then? I should have known this wouldn't have been so easy!

Fawnpaw must've missed something in her panic because Honeystar was padding away and Marshstrike was ushering her back towards the center of camp. The leader hopped on a large stone protruding from the ground.

"May all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath Tallrock for a Clan meeting!" Honeystar called. Fawnpaw watched as the WindClanners gathered. She noticed Dawnheart beaming at her.

"Earlier today Marshstrike's patrol encountered young Fawn here on our territory," the leader explained. "She knows the ways of a medicine cat and is treating Oakpaw's paw. She has accepted my invitation to join the Clan. Tomorrow she will take the journey to Highstones to meet with StarClan and receive her name. For now, let us welcome Fawn to the clan and treat her as your own denmate!" Honeystar hopped down from Tallrock signaling the end of the meeting.

"Welcome to WindClan!" Dawnheart cheered as she padded over to the young cat. She then pushed something towards Fawnpaw. She realized that it was some marigold. The senior warrior must've collected the herb when Fawnpaw was speaking to Honeystar.

"Thank you, Dawnheart." She smiled. Fawnpaw then nodded in hello to other cats – her new Clanmates – who welcomed her. "Where is Oakpaw? I should put this herb on his paw."

"I sent him to the medicine cat den to wait for you," Dawnheart told her and then began leading her away. The two she-cats came to a a dip in the ground beneath some brambles. Fawnpaw nodded to the warrior before she padded through the tunnel.

She found Oakpaw pulling at his cobwebs. "Those are stopping dirt and dust from getting in your wound," the brown cat told the apprentice. "Probably part of the reason it got infected in the first place."

"It's sticky," Oakpaw complained but stopped messing with the bandage. Fawnpaw chewed the marigold that Dawnheart had collected before setting it aside on a leaf she found.

"Hold still," she told the tom, knowing he had an issue with that. But this time the brown paw remained steady. Perhaps the wound was already feeling better. Fawnpaw tugged the cobweb from his paw and the proceeded to lick the wound. It wasn't exactly enjoyable, licking a disgusting wound, but it was the most efficient way to clean it. She spat her spit out on the ground before chewing the marigold again to get it wet. Fawnpaw relished the familiar herb taste covering up the tange of Oakpaw's wound. She spread the marigold on the wound before wrapping it again with some cobweb she had found in the den (it was covered in them).

"There," Fawnpaw told him. "Stay off of it the rest of today. In the morning you can unwrap it but wash the paw and wrap it again in cobwebs. There's plenty of it in here if you can't find any."

The apprentice nodded and then hesitated. "T-thank you, Fawn." She supposed that was difficult for him after how abrasive he had been towards her when they first met. Fawnpaw nodded and he left the den.

The medicine cat apprentice sighed as she stared around the den. It smelled like rotten herbs and dust. Fawnpaw took the liberty of checking the herbs. Sure enough the stocks were all spoiled, the herbs cracked and dried long ago. She wondered how long it had been since a medicine cat had step foot in the den.

Fawnpaw was in the middle of clearing the stocks and removing the old moldy bedding when a cat pushed his head through the entrance. "Fawn? Could you come with me?" It was Marshstrike. She stopped what she was doing and followed him. He led her towards a den hidden in the gorse walls of the camp. Fawnpaw found a white queen sitting to one side and three kits playing.

"Oh!" the queen exclaimed. "Hello! I'm Mothcloud! These are our kits, aren't they wonderful?" The queen purred and Marshstrike bumped heads with hers.

"I brought Fawn here to look at Icekit," the large warrior explained.

"Oh, right! Icekit will you come here a moment?" The white she-cat called for the blue kit.

"Yes?" the kit stared at the cat she didn't know with wide blue eyes. She then broke out in a cough. Fawnpaw narrowed her eyes.

"She has a cough," Mothcloud said. "We were worried but scared to ask another Clan's medicine cat for help. We're fostering Icekit, she wasn't born in the Clans. We didn't know if she had the same immunity to the plague as the rest of us do." Did she just say a plague? Is that what happened to the medicine cat?

Fawnpaw bent down and sniffed at the small kit. "Could you open your mouth and say 'ahhh,' Icekit?" she asked. The blue kit did as she asked before breaking out into another coughing fit. Satisfied nodded and Icekit closed her mouth. "You can go back and play with your siblings." She ushered the kit forward.

"The plague was horrific," Mothcloud mused. "Seeing my Clanmates suffer from that disease-" She shivered and Marshstrike wrapped himself around her. "I never want to see it again."

"I haven't seen that disease first hand," Fawnpaw said, truthfully. "But it appears that Icekit just has a case of kit-cough. It's easy enough to cure with some coltsfoot."

"Really? That's wonderful!" The white queen exclaimed. "Oh, not about her being ill, but that it's cure able. Marshstrike, dear, show her where the coltsfoot is won't you?" The warrior nodded at his mate before he and Fawnpaw left the nursery.

"Er..." Marshstrike twitched his ear awkwardly. "I'm not actually sure what coltsfoot is."

Fawnpaw stifled a laugh. She supposed even in this time most cats were clueless about herbs. "It a plant with a yellow flower. Perhaps Dawnheart would know, she brought me the marigold."

"Good idea," the warrior agreed. "Her sister was our former medicine cat. She picked up a thing here and there. Dawnheart!" he called to the tortoiseshell across camp.

"Reporting for duty, deputy!" The she-cat smiled as she darted over.

"Do you know where coltsfoot grows?" Fawnpaw asked her. "It's yellow like marigold but has white seeds."

Dawnheart thought for a moment. "I think there was some by the marigold, actually! I remember seeing it because it looked different! I'll go get some now! Be back in a flash!" The pretty she-cat sped off out of camp.

"Marshstrike," Fawnpaw ventured. "Can I ask you something?"

"What is it, Fawn?" The deputy answered with a question.

"The plague, what happened?" Fawnpaw had never heard of a disease so deadly. Perhaps that was why Ashstar had said the clans in turmoil. The plague had killed so many.

Marshstrike sat with a sad expression on his face but began speaking, "It started early last leaf-bare. There was a gathering where a few cats were coughing. But no one really thought anything of it; it was starting to get cold and white and green cough always come with that." He grimaced. "But it spread through the Clans like wildfire. We first realized the gravity of the illness when an apprentice was the first to die, Heavyhope. Our former leader, Mistlestar, named him right before he died. Nearly every cat got sick.

"The medicine cats couldn't find a herb that cured the disease. Tansy and catmint helped but nothing was able to stop it. All the clans were a skeleton of their former selves by the time leaf-bare passed and with it the plague. The only cats who were left were those who never got sick at all or those who did fall ill but were able to overcome it."

"I'm sorry," Fawnpaw whispered, horrified. She couldn't imagine watching her Clan die all around her, powerless to do anything.

Marshstrike wiped his eyes with his paw and she realized he had been crying. "Those who passed are with StarClan now." He looked up to the blue sky above before looking back at Fawnpaw. "But that is why we were so accepting towards you, Fawn. And Icekit, and Dewpaw, who I'm not sure if you've met. We've resorted to accepting outsiders to join the Clans as it is the only way we can flourish again."

Fawnpaw wondered if that was why Ashstar hadn't given them any guidance on how to be accepted by their Clans. Because she knew the horrors of what had occurred and she knew how hungry the Clans would be from strong warriors.

A/N: A quick note on the plague in the story and events going on in the real world – I came up with this story idea years ago and decided to stick to it as I've been writing this story. That being said, I hope everyone reading this story is staying safe and doing what they have to do during these times! New chapter out soon :)