A/N: Eh a lot shorter and not as good but I hope y'all enjoy.
He hummed to himself, gently nosing through herbs.
He flinched when a soft leaf brushed against the sensitive flesh on his face, and grunted. He wasn't some wary kit; he could handle this. The Medicine Den was empty and he was alone, and there was nothing to fear.
It had been about a moon and a half since Jayfeather had been brutally attacked. A moon and a half of flinches and muttered 'sorrys' both on his part and other cats'. Of dreamless nights leading more often than not to thrashing and breathless scrambling a pulling him from what could barely be termed "sleep".
A moon and a half, with no leads on the culprit.
But Jayfeather had, in fact, slowly gotten better. And so had the Clan.
He could hold stable conversations, and his Clanmates could do so in return. His grumpy - and at times, jerkish - nature began to return, if only hesitantly, but enough so that things began to slide at what could constitute as "normal" for Jayfeather.
He was far from being back to his old self, but he had definitely improved since the 'incident'.
He slowed his sorting, mind with wanderings still working away, though at a much more laggard pace.
. . . Could it really be called an incident? That was almost as bad as "accident". This was no such thing; it had been deliberate and cruel. It had been an attack, a statement - a message.
A warning.
But even still, Jayfeather knew it had been beyond that.
His attacker had meant for it to be Jayfeather; Jayfeather specifically, and no other cat.
And he had his suspicions, of course.
The gray tabby sat alone in the den, petals and leaves dropped at his paws, as he sat hunched and dust mites swirled around him in the warm, late Newleaf air.
Since Jayfeather had been brought back, Leafpool had been doing all she could.
Her actions could be accused of being Maternal in nature, but in actuality she was a Medicine Cat through and through, and had treated Jayfeather's pain with the same indifference as with any other patient when removing his wrappings. She even tutted at him when he hissed and batted at her, his ears flashing back and fangs displayed.
But later, after giving him a few poppy seeds in hopes to stave off the dreamless nightmares, she had collapsed against the wall and grieved long and hard, muted wailings and chest tight. Jayfeather had slept on, breathing deeply through it all.
Cats did not weep, but their hearts could break all the same.
The last time Jayfeather had dreamed had been the night before he had been attacked. He had dreamed of a pink flower, laid out against wood. It's smell was unlike any flower he had smelled before; almost heady, velvety.
It was a dangerous smell.
No Starclan cat had come to speak to him, nor could he see anything but the flower upon wood. He left the dream, into the surrounding darkness.
When he had awoken he had spoken to Leafpool about it that morning.
"Hmm," she had said, amber eyes looking intently at the herbs she had been going through. "It sounds like Oleander - a flower I saw on the great journey. I had actually paused and asked a Kittypet about it, since it was in his garden. He said it's poisonous. A thing to beware. Why? Do you think Starclan was sending you a sign?" She glanced up at him with rounded, apprehensive eyes.
Not that he saw them, of course, but he felt the gaze all the same.
"No," he said, shaking his gray striped head. "I felt no presence. Nor heard any voice. I think it may have just been a dream - maybe even something left over from when I walked memories."
"Hmm," she hummed, looking back towards the herbs. "Well, if that's all, I could use some Borage and Coltsfoot; my Borage store is low, and the only Coltsfoot left is withered." He heard her pull soggy plant out and shake it off her claws.
"Plus, you could do with the time out of camp," she said, the humor evident in her voice.
He mock growled at her, and she laughed with an, "oh hush you! And get out!"
And, well.
The rest was history.
At least, it would have been, had not the expectedly unexpected happened.
Very easily Clan life could slide back to something resembling normal, with the Cats still 'alert' for the culprit, but much more relaxed and not exactly alert.
It could have been.
When Brackenfur ran into camp, exclaiming, "Help! Help! Cloudtail is caught under rocks!" They realized that any peace would only have been an illusion.
Their shadowy betrayer was still amidst the Clans.
And he had attacked another cat.