Firepaw hurried over to the elders' den with the herbs Spottedleaf had requested.

He dropped the bundle of watermint, thyme, and chervil at the she-cat's paws.

The medic glanced at him and nodded, gesturing for him to sit by her side.

Looking back at the patient, an elder named Patchpelt, she tilted her head. "What were the symptoms you named again, Patchpelt?"

The tom blinked, looking queasy, and nodded. "Terrible bellyache, headache, nausea, and cramping. I think I may have eaten a mouse that'd been on the prey pile a day too long, dear."

Spottedleaf gave the elder a kind smile and nodded. "You'll be feeling that for a couple days, then. Come on, we should get you set up in the medicine den. Sorry to make you do a round trip, but would you bring those herbs back with us, Firepaw?"

He smiled and nodded, eyes bright. "Sure! It's no trouble." He picked up the bundle and followed the two cats back towards the medicine den.

Patchpelt flopped into a nest, huffing as he settled. "Think I'll be alright, Spottedleaf?"

She purred, gently flicking him with her tail. "It's just a bad mouse, Patchpelt, you'll be fine after a couple days rest and herbs. Speaking of, bring those over would you Firepaw?"

Firepaw bounded over, depositing the bundle beside the elder's nest.

She picked through them, deciding on what to use.

...

It was not just a bad mouse.

Firepaw quickly and carefully picked off the fresh stems of new watermint plants, immediately bundling them up and racing back towards camp. He was careful not to drop a single stem, knowing that each bit of the herb could finally cure the elder.

Patchpelt had been slowly getting worse, heaving and groaning all day from the pain.

Spottedleaf had assured the apprentice that he'd be fine but at this rate...

The apprentice burst into camp, heading right for the medicine den and dropping off the herbs for Spottedleaf.

She nodded and pushed them towards the elder, gently coaxing him to eat it. "I know it hurts, Patchpelt. Please, eat these though. We cannot help if you don't allow us to." She turned to the younger tom in a hushed voice, eyes dark. "Get juniper berries. Chervil too, if you see any. If this doesn't work, we may need to try nettle to extract any kind of poison that might've been in the mouse. Go."

He nodded and spun around, his fur ragged from the nights with little sleep.

Racing through the forest, he quickly found a juniper bush abundant with its fruit. He used a large leaf to gather a bunch of berries together and carefully began to trot home with the haphazard berry bag.

He made the trip into the forest a couple more times before Patchpelt finally seemed to get some relief.

The elder settled a bit, still grunting but able to fall asleep despite the pain.

Spottedleaf looked just as bad, if not worse, than Firepaw.

Both cats were dusty and dull, tired and worried.

The she-cat sighed, speaking quietly. "Firepaw, I'll be going to the gathering tonight. The plan was to have you come as well, but you must stay here and care for Patchpelt. We have extra juniper and chervil if he needs it. Do you think you'll be alright?"

His fur prickled with unease.

While he was confident in his ability to treat others at this point, this would still be the first time he didn't have Spottedleaf behind him to ensure he did it right.

Gulping, he nodded, narrowing his eyes. "You can count on me. I'll take care of him while you're gone."

She smiled softly, giving him a quick lick over an ear. "Thank you, Firepaw. May StarClan light your path tonight."

Firepaw nuzzled his mentor before they split, Spottedleaf leaving to join the gathering patrol and Firepaw turning back to their patient.

He settled nearby, eyes closed but his ears perked up to listen for any changes in the tom.

...

Firepaw desperately chewed up the juniper berries before giving them to the writhing tom.

Patchpelt was thrashing in his nest, choking on foam and screeching as he writhed in pain.

"Please Patchpelt!" Firepaw cried, his eyes wide with horror at the sight. "You must swallow the herbs! You'll be okay, Spottedleaf will be back to help soon, I promise!"

The elder gave no reply, somehow managing to actually swallow the poultice he was given as his movements died down. He still gargled, eyes blown wide open, but he no longer screeched.

Firepaw lapped at his head, trying to comfort him. "Do you need water?" He pushed a clump of wet moss closer, tears forming. "Here, drink!"

Patchpelt coughed, bits of juniper flying from the corners of his mouth as he looked at the apprentice. He was quiet, still with foam in his throat, but he spoke and Firepaw understood clear as day.

"Tell the Clan, my family, friends, I love them."

Firepaw choked back a cry as the tom's eyes faded, the last of their light dying. "Alright.."

"I will."

...

Spottedleaf curled her tail around the apprentice as they sat near the body. She wrapped a paw around him, pulling him in close as she murmured. "It wasn't your fault. It will never be your fault."

Firepaw sobbed, chest heaving silently as he cried.

She licked his head comfortingly a few times, still speaking quietly. "It was your first death. It's always hard, you'll always remember this, and I'm sorry for that. From here, we grow. You will have more cats die at your paws, Firepaw, but that will never make it your fault. You are a good, kind cat and that will make you a wonderful medicine cat for your Clan."

He pressed his face into her chest, crying with near-silent wails.