(a/n: for some reason i just imagine all DotC books take place in those Good Good Texan Winters were its just really cold and gray but there's no snow? anyway i don't imagine there's snow here but if you do that's ok)
It had been several moons since Sparrowstar had become leader, six to be exact, and she'd already lost her first life. It was now leafbare and both of Dew Petal's kits had left the nursery. Dew Petal hadn't become a warrior again, instead staying a helper, though not quite Acorn Fur's apprentice.
Sparrowstar, Red Claw and Alder were all down with a sickness and they were being kept in a gap in the ferns on the other side of the hunter's den. Alder was wheezing and kept going on about how she couldn't die, she'd survived the sickness of the Blazing Star.
Cloud Spots of ThunderClan was in camp, helping out.
"Greencough," he mewed, "Whitecough isn't nearly as severe."
"I don't know what either of those are," Acorn Fur said back.
"Whitecough is just worse than a pollen allergy," he exclaimed, "It's debilitating, but manageable. Greencough is worse, greencough is this."
"What's the cure for it?"
"Catmint."
Fritz, there on his daily sunhigh visit and huge eavesdropper he was, looked to Dew Petal, wide-eyed.
"Checkers' owners grew catmint," he whispered.
"Checkers? Is that Rainpaw's mother?"
He nodded, "Yeah, yeah. But she has a sister who lives there too, Domino. She hates me. Always has, even more now that she's dead."
Rainpaw, who was sharing a sparrow with Birchpaw not too far away, looked up, ears pressed flat to his head. Fritz gave Dew Petal a terrified glance, then stood.
"W-we gotta go on a big journey, Rainpaw," he mewed, voice strained, "Or else all those cats are gonna die."
Rainpaw jumped up to his paws, now unbothered by what he'd overheard, "Yeah! Let's go!"
Dew Petal let out a mrrow of amusement. "Finish your sparrow first. It's leafbare."
(...)
Fritz was leading them on the edge of the forest, in the clearing between Twolegplace and SkyClan territory. Well, currently it was all clearing, no dens to be seen. Soon there was a yellow house, instead of the soft orange wood of the other homes, this fence had skinny poles with silver web between each, spikes on top. A big black dog was snoozing in the yard.
Fritz leaped up on the fence, which jingled, not that the dog noticed. Rainpaw and Birchpaw followed, meanwhile Dew Petal stayed on the other side, terrified. The three cats picked at the frosted garden. A sleek, black-spotted cat emerged from under a flap in the den entrance, launching at Fritz and tumbling him over.
"Domino-"
"You killed my sister, you fink!"
Domino scored her claws against Fritz's cheek.
"G-go," he whimpered to his kits, "Take the catmint ba-AHCK!"
Domino scored her claws down Fritz's stomach. On reflex and reflex only, Fritz kicked. His scream was enough to wake the dog, who barked and stood in Domino's direction, scaring her back into the home. Fritz hauled himself up and over the fence, dripping blood over the frosted ground.
Dew Petal shrieked, holding his head in her paws.
"Dew Petal…?" he mewed, life quickly fleeting from him.
"Fr-Fritz…"
"Where did Rainpaw run off to…?"
Rainpaw dropped his herbs at Birchpaw's feet, who was watching on in horror.
"I'm still here, dad," he whispered, curling himself into his bleeding stomach.
Fritz swallowed thickly, "I just want you all to know I love you more than you'll ever know…"
"Don't say that Fritz, no- w-we'll get you okay-" she turned to face her daughter, "Birchpaw, go get-"
A sudden gasp at her chest stopped her. Fritz's yellow eyes were rolled back in his head, dull, the only light in them from the cold leafbare sun.
"Dad?" Rainpaw whimpered, sitting up, the side of his body red with blood. "Dad? Dad?! Fritz!"
(...)
Red Claw had died and Sparrowstar had lost a life. Alder had recovered but not everything had quite left her body, leaving her to sound like she was always stuffed up. Sparrowstar had lost another one of her lives and the season had changed back to leaf-fall.
Birchpaw and Rainpaw were due for hunter names any day now.
In fact, Sparrowstar and Birchpaw were out for her hunter assessment.
Birchpaw was just about to catch a robin, but a yowl rang out not far from them. Sparrowstar leaped from her branch and Birchpaw pressed her face into Sparrowstar's chest.
"What is that?"
"Badger. Come on."
Birchpaw nodded and let the she-cat lead her, jaws half-open following the scent through bushes. Through another bush was the river and the tallest maple tree in the territory. Sparrowstar put her tail over Birchpaw's eyes, as if that would stop the yowling and growling she could hear.
"Stay here," she commanded, launching out and yowling. Birchpaw peered out from the bushes, but all she could see was a blur of white, tan and black. One more grunt and a flying white body, the badger rushed off.
"Flower Foot?" Birchpaw asked after a few seconds, coming out if the bush. The she-cat turned around, making scarred half of her face known.
"I couldn't save her…" Flower Foot sobbed, hanging her head, "I'm so sorry…"
Birchpaw rushed up and strained her neck around her aunt. There lay the mangled body of her mother, pelt battered and torn. Birchpaw froze and collapsed onto her haunches.
"And Sparrowstar's dead, too! She's losing her lives too fast!"
Birchpaw sunk her claws in the ground and cast a cold glance at her.
"My mother's dead and the only cat you care about is Sparrowstar?" she asked coldly. Flower Foot's eyes went wide as she slowly turned to her. "Sparrowstar will come back! You know who can't? Your sister!"
"What's gotten into you?" Flower Foot snapped.
"Some love for my family!"
"Birchpaw, I'm-"
"Not anymore you're not! You killed her!"
"Birchpaw-!"
Birchpaw didn't listen, instead heaving Dew Petal up onto her back and into camp. Inwardly she knew she wasn't actually mad at Flower Foot, she was mad her mother was dead.
(...)
"I name you Birchpelt and Rainsplash."
Inwardly Birchpelt was a bit disappointed she wasn't named Birchpetal. It'd been a moon since her mother's death, but she was nowhere near over it. She got a glance toward the deputy.
"Congrats," she mewed. Birchpelt dipped her head in acknowledgement. It wasn't her fault, Birchpelt reminded herself… but inside she was glad her name wasn't Birchflower or Birchfoot.