Chapter 2

Breezefur slowly shakes her head side to side, trying somehow to shake the throbbing ache in her forehead, her eyelids drooped and her vison blurred as if her eyes couldn't bear to stay open. What's going on with me? With every blink, she saw red beneath her eyelids, she saw pain and agony in ways she never saw before, she began to sway on her paws, the weight of her own head dragging her entire frame down with it, she swung slowly to the left, then the right before one of her paws slipped out from under her and she toppled over onto the stone floor of the medicine den.

Mosseye, who had been frantically rummaging through her herb stores, muttering in an alarmed tone to herself, gasped in horror when she saw her. The old she-cat nearly had a fit upon turning around and basically flew to her side immediately, lowering her head frantically to Breezefur's and worriedly sniffing her face. By now Breezefur can barely even think clearly anymore. A thick smoke began to mist into her mind, choking and strangling out any reasonable thought from her head.

What's happening to me?!

Through the pain, she began to feel alarm. What was happening to her? Was she sick? Did the weather have something to do with it? Was it greencough!? She felt her lungs began to tighten in her chest and her throat begins to narrow, bringing in shallower and more rapid breaths. Mosseye noticed this and stood back, an aura of worry emanating off of her. She stood there for a moment, gazing upon the sorry sight of Breezefur as she gazed desperately at her through wide, sage colored eyes.

Slowly, the pressure in her chest began to lift and Breezefur took in a long, soothing breath. She sighed and shut her eyes. For a moment, the throbbing ceased, the heat left her forehead, the calm flowed back into her mind – like the many rivers that crash through StormClan's lush forest territory. A smooth, cold surface is pressed gently against her nose, a piercing heady scent blew into her nostrils as she inhaled, causing the she-cat to open her eyes. In front of her, on a small leaf wrap, were a cluster of poppy seeds, their shiny black surfaces slick with cooled vapor.

"Eat these, they'll help with the pain"

Breezefur barely registered the medicine cat speaking softly to her – she felt suddenly, mortally, exhausted. She tried to flex her claws, but barely a twitch occurred in her paw. Her vision was slipping and spinning, like a fish flipped out of water, wobbling sideways out of control.

She licked up the poppy seeds, swallowing them with an exhausted gulp.

"There you go, you'll be okay" Mosseye mewed soothingly, then kept quiet. "You'll be just fine"

The last sentence she uttered sounded . . . off. Something in her tone didn't sound right to Breezefur.

It sounded sort of like . . . alarm?

Too tired to question this, Breezefur begins to drift off. But not before feeling another presence in the den. Something bad.

Like a rushing river, sleep drowns her. Swirling around her, she tried to yowl out, but the sensation suffocated her, flooding into her jaws and nostrils, making her gag and cough. As quickly as it came, it was gone. Whatever foundation that was below her paws suddenly dissipated. She was falling! Rapidly, down, air rushing around her face and ruffling through her pelt. The screech was ripped from her throat as she plummeted down in nothing.

She thrashes. Hard. Trying to fight her way out of the endless blackness. Her eyes are closed. It hurts her eyes to look into it. It's too dark. Her claws slide out of their sheaths and she begins to flail harder, slashing at whatever or whoever was in the inevitable blackness. Desperation prickles through her skin, sending her body into overdrive as she slashes harder, wailing and caterwauling out for some cat, any cat, to come save her.

A sudden rough thump sends her flying through the darkness, finally in some sort of direction, much to her peculiar relief. She sails through the dark air, eventually landing hard on a surprisingly soft and ever so slightly scratchy surface.

She continued to fight, eyes still squeezed shut, battling the dark enemy that surrounded and choked her.

Something heavy was planted firmly on her belly, pinning her down on her back and restricting her movements so she couldn't lash out at whatever or whoever was holding her down. Her fur spiked in terror and her heart started pounding, she was trapped! Oh StarClan! Am I going to die? Breezefur felt her limbs begin to ache as the adrenaline began to die away, the energy she had originally used to fight the dark entity that seemed to engulf her slipping away.

A mew of alarm sounded from somewhere nearby. At first Breezefur thought it was her own voice, but no, it sounded different, yet familiar. The voice sounded again, causing her to pause in confusion, was there another cat trapped here too? She turned her head to try and find whoever was there, but all she could see was blackness.

"Breezefur . . .. Breezefur?!"

The voice was clearer now and she could hear it calling her name, a note of concern and alarm. It rang clear in her head, strangely calming.

"Breezefur. Breezefur!"

A sudden jolt coursed through her body, forcing her eyes wide open. A burst of pale light was thrown immediately in her face. Her face wrinkled up and her eyelids slid closed again, she squirmed, shifting her head around to avoid the blinding flash. Where am I? she thought, she couldn't feel the deep grooves and cracks of the stone floor in the medicine den, but very soft and feather-like. Like a nest.

"Breezefur?"

A tiny, frightened meow was breathed into her ear. Slowly, she opened her eyes, the blinding headache was creeping back in, slowly pounding heat into her skull. The scene before her was watery, unclear and fuzzy, a blur of orange, white and smoky cerulean blue.

"Breezefur? Are you awake . . .?"

Falconstar's young apprentice Fringepaw was standing over her, his ginger and white face was twisted with concern and worry, next to him was Mosseye and Falconstar himself, all watching her with concern and unease. She lifted her head from the moss, her muzzle felt damp as if she had been drinking from a cool puddle of water. She swiped her tongue across her jaws, an iron tang was unleashed into her mouth. Puzzled, she drew a paw underneath her chin, it was soaked within seconds. The pit of her stomach dropped as she lifted the wet paw to her face. It was covered in a dark red liquid. She glanced down at her chest, drops of the same red liquid were scattered across her light chest fur. Blood!

Panicked, she looked up at Mosseye, why wasn't she doing anything? The blood continued to trickle from her jaws. What was happening?

"It's okay, Breezefur, don't panic"

Don't panic? How could she possibly not panic? Somehow, somewhere in the darkness she had been attacked. She felt no pain in the area and she could see no wound, but she was still certain, by some way, she'd taken a blow from a mysterious aggressor. She quickly sat up but fell back to her side when her head began to spin and she felt too dizzy to stay upright. Misery made her want to curl up in her nest and drift off to a peaceful slumber – not one engulfed with darkness and terror. Falconstar placed a white paw on her flank, his eyes dark.

"It's what I think it is, isn't it?" he asked, turning to Mosseye. The medicine cat nodded gravely.

"Unfortunately yes"