Sorry I ended the last chapter badly, but I had to stop somewhere 8-)

Runningpaw tried not to gasp. Silverfoot was the RiverClan deputy.

"B-but how do you know that?" Runningpaw dared to ask.

Cinderhope purred at Runningpaw's arrogance. "Ah, I know this because I saw it happen. I was on the same patrol as him when he decided to go out and hunt in a different spot. I nodded and gave him permission, but I knew that Mudpelt was a little…funny."

"So you followed him to where he was hunting?" Runningpaw guessed.

Cinderhope purred and nodded. "Yes, I did. I was about your age, about thirteen moons, a newly made warrior. Yes, I followed him, and I noticed that he was traipsing off to RiverClan territory. My first guess was that he was going off to visit some kind of RiverClan she-cat that he was in love with, but he was such a hard cat when he was an apprentice that I thought that he would never love. So I got really suspicious by then. I saw the blue-gray tom, Silverfoot's kit, and he had just been made a warrior. Watertail, I think he was called. He was growing up so fast." Cinderhope beamed with pride at the thought of the deceased warrior as if Watertail were his own son.

"Anyway, that was it for young Watertail. He greeted Mudpelt with warm delight as if Mudpelt were his father, and then…then he got killed. Mudpelt had dug his claws into his throat and he was as good as dead, just like that." Cinderhope slammed one of his paws into the ground to signify 'that'.

"You said that Watertail greeted him as if Mudpelt were his father…" Runningpaw mewed. "Do you know why that was?"

"Well, Runningpaw, I don't know everything about the two," Cinderhope chuckled, "But I can guess that Mudpelt must have messed with his mind somehow. Like got him into some kind of conspiracy. But…I'm…not…sure…" Cinderhope rasped. The gray cat started to wheeze horribly, and his claws slid out and clutched the ground.

"Should I get Mossflower?" Asked Runningpaw worriedly.

Cinderhope said nothing but nodded as he wheezed and clawed at the earth.

Runningpaw hurried out of the special den, thousands of thoughts swirling through his mind. Mudpelt was a murderer? Watertail? Who was he? What did Mudpelt do to mess with his mind? Was Cinderhope okay? And the most heart stopping one: was Cinderhope dying?

He gulped and started to paw around the dropped herbs for no reason. The light brown tom peered left and right to try to find the medicine cat, but couldn't find her. Chilling realization coursed through Runningpaw- Mossflower wasn't there, Mossflower wasn't there…

Where was she? Runningpaw searched desperately around for her.

Runningpaw smiled at the entrance. He saw Cinnamonpaw standing there, tending to a cranky Heatshadow who was complaining that his bedding hadn't been changed to that day.

He leaped up to the medicine cat apprentice. Surely she knew enough about being a medicine cat to tend to Cinderhope, didn't she?

Hoping with all of his heart to StarClan that she did, Runningpaw softly tapped the beautiful she-cat on the shoulder with his tail tip.

"Cinnamonpaw," He mewed as gently as he could, "We need your help! Cinderhope is…" He gulped back saying, "Cinderhope is dying". "Cinderhope is really sick, and we need your help! Can you tend to him?"

Another shape whipped around. It was Deerpaw. "Oh my goshy golly! Should I come with you to tend to him?" She asked Runningpaw.

"Get out of my way, you under-grown healer!" Cinnamonpaw's voice hissed. The sorrel she-cat shoved Deerpaw out of the way and saw Runningpaw

The gingery she-cat smiled. "Oh you're back! Cinderhope has always been ill, especially…" she frowned. "Is he…"

Runningpaw nodded. "Yes! Now come on! Hurry!" He exclaimed.

"So he's in the 'special needs' den?" Asked Cinnamonpaw. "I've never been in there for a long time. Ever since…" She hung her head.

Runningpaw touched her shoulder with his tail tip to comfort her. He remembered that her father had gotten awfully sick with an unknown disease. Unfortunately, Mottledface, the medicine cat before Mossflower, was somehow not able to cure it. It made Cinnamonpaw infuriated at the medicine cat- it amazed Runningpaw that she still decided to be the medicine cat apprentice.

The sorrel she-cat daintily squeezed through the entrance to the den.

Runningpaw followed behind, bursting into the den right after her. It looked a little awkward- first a pretty she-cat padding her way in, then a bumbling tom stumbling his way in.

There Cinderhope was, still sitting where he was, wheezing, coughing, and clawing the earth. But this time his claws were sheathed- he must have unsheathed him for his sake so they wouldn't get caught on the roots that lay on the forest floor.

"Cinderhope, are you okay?" Asked Cinnamonpaw.

"Does it look like I'm okay?" Cinderhope cried. "Help me!" He tried to yelp.

Runningpaw felt like he was going to be sick. He clawed the earth, trying to anchor himself into the den, but couldn't help but rush out of the den to vomit somewhere.

He jumped out through the entrance to the medicine cat's den and leaped up high through the surrounding bushes, trying to find a place that was farthest away from the medicine cat's den as possible.

Finally, he tore into a very large bramble bush and upchucked. Although he didn't want to, Runningpaw made sure that he let out every morsel of mouse that he had just eaten. That way he wouldn't feel sick anymore.

Feeling a bit better, Runningpaw staggered his way through the bush. He could see sunlight filtering through the leafy branches and he savored the beautiful sight. But the sunlight wasn't very good for his sickening feeling, and Runningpaw started staggering out and back into the clearing. He had to get back to Cinderhope as fast as possible.

Suddenly, a huge sting filled his face, spreading as fast as fire in a forest that had been dry for moons. It felt particularly sharp in his eye, but that was the last thought that invaded his mind as Runningpaw toppled over and fainted in the bush, where nobody would find him for a long, long time.