"And looked down one as far as I could"

LION

A quarter moon passed and infection had set in. Lionpath's hind leg was pulsing and inflamed; heat coursed through his aching body. Despite her best efforts, Leafdew was having difficulty treating the WindClan deputy. This was partly due to the nature of the wounds; they were so deep that they rendered him immobile. And Leafdew knew that sedentary cats were doomed cats.

The broad-shouldered tom watched the medicine cat with weary, feverish eyes. In his state, Lionpath focused his attention on the swift and meticulous way Leafdew moved in her den. It was a grace reserved for a healing presence such as herself. Unlike the warriors he interacted with on a daily basis, Leafdew was slender and petite, lacking the muscle mass of a well-trained warrior. Though WindClan were typically lankier than the other Clans, Leafdew was especially lean, compared to the brawny builds of the warriors he was accustomed to. Even the she-cats were athletic, something he had always felt attracted to, but there was something arresting about Leafdew's inherently gentle nature.

Leafdew caught his eye and blinked. "What?"

Lionpath gave his head shake. "Nothing," he rasped. "You just… move differently."

She flushed under his gaze and looked away. He wasn't really making sense, but she chalked it up to infection. She disappeared into the back of her herb store; she could feel his amber eyes burning into her fur. It made her skin crawl. Most warriors never bothered her for long. They slipped in and out of her den as needed, mumbling thank-you's, expending her services before jumping back into the fray, then landing right back into her den with a new injury. A vicious cycle that Leafdew scorned, but mostly she appreciated the solitude. The WindClan's deputy silent fascination with her daily routine made her uneasy. She could almost hear his thoughts buzzing in his head, clamoring to be heard. And yet for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what he was thinking.

Just then, a warrior stepped onto the veranda of the den. In his jaws, he released a scrawny water vole and a fat trout. Lionpath's stomach gave a weak rumble of desire. "Here, Leafdew," the brown tom said in a deep voice. "Courtesy of the morning patrol."

"Thank you, Mudmask," Leafdew said, emerging from her stores. She paused as she inspected the kill. "That's all he's getting? He needs more than a tiny morsel of vole."

"He's lucky to be getting any of our fresh-kill at all," he growled, his lips curling into a sneer as he glared at their prisoner.

"He's losing enough weight as it is," Leafdew stated coolly. "Go back and get him a proper fill."

"Not a chance!"

"It's Greenleaf, the rivers are teeming. We have plenty to spare."

"Not on my life!" Mudmask snapped. "The guy could stand to lose some muscle mass. It's not your job to make him stronger, Leafdew. You have your orders. Just keep him alive!"

"And I'm barely doing that, if he doesn't have the strength to sustain treatment. If he dies because we neglected to feed him, then I'm just wasting my herbs on him," Leafdew pointed out drily. "I don't need you reminding me of my duties, Mudmask."

"I love you, Leafdew, but I'm not coughing up anymore fresh-kill for the likes of him." Mudmask spat, shooting Lionpath one last glare before he left.

Leafdew watched him go with a sigh. Lionpath eyed her curiously. "You don't seem to carry much respect around here," he said thoughtfully.

Leafdew turned her back on the kill and returned to her sorting duties. "That's not true," she said. "My Clanmates are very proud, loyal warriors. They don't tolerate the thought of sacrificing their resources for enemies. Not when they believe their loved ones could be using them instead."

"I know the feeling," Lionpath muttered.

Leafdew's expression softened. "I know you're frustrated," she sighed. "And I'm sorry. Truly, I am." She held his gaze for a moment longer, then returned to her busy work. "I don't condone wars. I think it's all meaningless in the grand scheme of things."

Lionpath's stomach gave another nauseating thrust. "But don't you feel like if you yourself were on the battlefield, you would feel inclined to fight behalf of those you care about?"

Leafdew looked up at him, weighing her words carefully. "Don't misunderstand," she said. "I also feel a fierce burning desire to protect my loved ones. But unlike you, I don't feed that fire in combat."

Lionpath blinked thoughtfully, but he couldn't swallow the rush of adrenaline in his veins at the thought of battle. "Maybe we do perpetuate the drama a little bit," he admitted. "And honestly, I admire your ability to file away your anger in such a productive manner," he paused, an emotional light tinging his gaze. "But when you spend day-after-day training alongside your companions, pushing one another, watching each other grow…You celebrate the victories and persevere through your setbacks. Together, you make each other stronger. You're fighting for a legacy, the Clanmates who have come before you and for the Clanmates that will come long after you've joined the ranks of StarClan..." Lionpath trailed off, then his voice hardened. "You can't help but reinforce that faith that this war safeguards the futures of our loved ones."

Leafdew eyed him, musingly. Lionpath's words were clear, fresh grief darkening his amber gaze. "But when you go out and avenge your Clanmates, you take the life of another. And the cycle perpetuates."

Lionpath shakes his head emphatically. "Never," he growled. "I would never take the life of another warrior intentionally. That's not only against the warrior code, but against my own personal principles."

Leafdew held his intense gaze for several heartbeats. Lionpath felt tension ease from his shoulders. For an enemy Clan medicine cat, he found the young queen to be trustworthy. But perhaps his trust in her was misplaced, his judgement swimming in his muddled brain.

Lionpath unsheathed his claws in frustration. "I just can't lie here and do nothing," he hissed. "Not when my family is out there, fighting at the front line."

Leafdew frowned. "Your family," she echoed. "Do you have kits?"

"Two," Lionpath rumbled warmly, his eyes softening with pride. "Two sons. Just beginning their warrior training."

Leafdew appeared thoughtful, trying to envision the two young toms. She wondered if she would see them at the next Gathering. Would they also be brawny, strapping lads? Would they have their father's blazing amber eyes? His rumbling, authoritative voice?

"If they're only newly appointed apprentices, you need not worry they would be out in combat," she pointed out lightly.

Lionpath felt something stir deep within him. "I always worry about my sons."

The medicine cat studied him musingly. A low, anemic moan sounded from Lionpath's stomach once more. He honestly didn't know if he was starving or going to be sick.

"Eat," Leafdew instructed, indicating toward the fresh-kill, as she turned her back on him once more.

Lionpath eyed the gaunt vole distastefully, but his overwhelming hunger won out. With a grunt, he stretched forward, biting his tongue through the sharp waves of pain until he hooked the kill with a claw and devoured it in two large bites. The vole did little to quell his hunger pangs; in fact, they seemed to intensify them even more. His rapidly depleting energy stores cried out like a ravenous beast, vying for more, imploring for compensation. Lionpath closed his eyes to compose himself.

"All of it."

Lionpath opened his eyes. The slender tabby queen was gesturing toward the second piece of fresh-kill. He eyed the stout, oily fish with a renewed sense of interest. Ignoring the rush of saliva in his jaws, he shook his head. "That's yours."

Leafdew shrugged with a dismissive flick of her tail. "The afternoon patrol brings me more before they turn in for the evening."

Lionpath blinked in surprise. The slim medicine cat was fed two of these hefty trout every day? It nearly half as large as she was. But after a few seconds of decision, he arched forward and sniffed the kill tentatively. The broad-shouldered tom had been brought up on rabbits and other fast-moving prey. Never in his life had he tasted a fish.

The smell was nauseating, but when he plunged his jaws into the fatty flesh of the fish, alarm bells sounded in his head. It wasn't a particularly pleasant taste, nor could he get past the gummy consistency of it, but the meat was so satisfying and so filling that he could almost feel his cells crying out in joy. No wonder RiverClan cats were so lean and robust. Their coats were sleek; their bodies strong. For the amount of physical exertion they endured on a daily basis, the fish were the only prey with enough nutritional value to sustain them. And Lionpath could suddenly understand why there was such famine when the rivers were polluted or dried up. These warriors' lives literally depended on the river.

Before he knew it, Lionpath had stripped the entire carcass of its meat. He licked his lips, perfectly satiated. He caught Leafdew's eye and she smiled at him.

"Well done," she purred softly. "This will make a huge impact on your recovery." She hooked the carcass with her claw and cleared it away from him.

Lionpath's eyes blinked drowsily. Yet as he lie in his bed, he couldn't help but continue to watch the dainty medicine cat work. Warriors came and went, thanking her as she treated their ugly battle scars, then limped out of her den with obvious intent to return to combat. For the first time in his life, Lionpath felt disgusted by the morals of a warrior. Leafdew doted over her Clanmates with nary a complaint, treating each and every member with warm affection and gentle application.

Morningstar visited several times throughout the day, checking in on Leafdew's patients, asking for status reports. Lionpath was shocked to see how much their leader relied on her medicine cat. He thought of his own Clan's medicine cat and realized that he had never really considered a medicine cat as a high rank in his Clan. As deputy, he thought leadership lay in the path to getting nine lives. But now, he started to value the insights the healers provided. An entirely different perspective.

Morningstar was cool and clinical around Leafdew. Lionpath sat disconnected from the situation, yet he couldn't help but detect a slight frostiness between the two. There appeared to be suppressed emotions under their professional demeanors. Especially, after hearing her thoughts on war, Lionpath was surprised at Leafdew's lack of expression to share such opinions with her leader. It appeared these words were reserved for their personal conversation alone.

By the time moonhigh arrived, Leafdew had finished with her last patient and had considerately changed out his bandages before settling into her own nest. Lionpath watched through heavy eyelids as the slender tabby fell asleep, suppressing renewed admiration for the RiverClan medicine cat's position. It was only after his eyes had closed and he began to surrender to slumber that he realized that Mudmask had never returned to the den with a second round of fresh-kill.