Chapter Nine:

In the days that followed Sleetstar's burial, Whitepaw had merely sat inside the medicine den with strict orders from Skystorm not to come outside into camp unless she was with her. "I want to protect you, Whitepaw." her mentor had told her while gathering herbs for the elders one evening. "Do you understand where I'm coming from on that aspect?"

Whitepaw merely nodded her head, which earned her a warm purr from Skystorm and a soft touch on her shoulder from Skystorm's nose. Whitepaw forced a smile on her face, for she knew that if she didn't her mentor would suspect something of her. Not that the silver she-cat hadn't been suspicious of her actions before, of course. Skystorm had sat in the den for three nights straight, questioning Whitepaw about Sleetstar's death and how in StarClan foxglove seeds had gotten into the mix.

"Did you kill your father on purpose, Whitepaw?"

"No, Skystorm. I did not." was her usual answer.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm positive." another usual and minuscule answer, yet to Skystorm her answers meant everything.

Skystorm would mutter a few words under her breath, so quiet Whitepaw couldn't hear her and then she would walk out of the den without another word. Whitepaw simply stared after her, silent and waiting for night to fall.

Now, three days since Sleetstar's burial, Whitepaw was getting restless.

Was she supposed to sit around the medicine den all day, not doing the required duties a medicine cat had to uphold in order to remain with that title amongst their Clan? Even SunClan's medicine cats were at fault for Sleetstar's burial, yet did Rushstar bother to punish the two and some of his warriors? No, because SunClan cats were supposedly 'loyal to the warrior code'.

"Loyal to the warrior code my tail." Whitepaw muttered under her breath as she sat in the medicine den one morning with dawn just breaking over the horizon, sorting through herbs as she usually did.

"What was that, Whitepaw?" Skystorm asked from across the den, her ears pricking and her chestnut-colored eyes focusing on her apprentice.

"N-nothing, Skystorm." Whitepaw stammered, stuffing some raspberry leaves in her mouth so she couldn't say anymore than that to the silver she-cat. Skystorm let out a huff of what appeared to be annoyance, yet didn't continue the conversation any further. Instead, she grabbed some herbs from her neatly sorted piles -not even bothering to check Whitepaw's already-known sloppy ones- and walked out of the den to check on Silverbird.

Whitepaw sighed. She couldn't exactly blame her mentor -or any cat, for that matter- for not wanting to be seen or even around her. Every cat in HailClan resented her for what she had done to Sleetstar, and no matter how much she pleaded with both Skystorm and Cliffswipe -who had now become Cliffstar- neither of them would allow her to exit the medicine den.

"It's for your own good, Whitepaw." Cliffstar had said just a day before when she had complained to him about her inside-bound duties. "Just until Skystorm and I think the Clan has settled down enough to the point where you can go outside without be harassed by Blackpaw or any warrior or apprentice."

"I understand, Cliffstar." was all Whitepaw had replied before she left the den with her mind clouded and tears forming in her eyes.

Without her medicine duties to do or cats to care for, Whitepaw had grown close to the one thing that didn't hate her; that one thing was her mind. The white she-cat had begun to hear voices, chanting nonsense that only she could understand in the back of her mind and in her ears. She barely slept, barely ate and rarely left camp -not that she could anyways- to make dirt; the voices were telling her not too, so she didn't in fear they would leave her if she did, making her all alone.

Being as the voices wouldn't allow her to sleep more than at least an hour a night, Whitepaw often paced back and forth around the den silently. She would contemplate whether or not she should be in HailClan or just leave and become a loner. Did she even belong in HailClan? Did she even belong anywhere? Or was she alone, caught in the cold claws of isolation and defeat, and would she stay like that for the rest of her life?

And with Blackpaw hunting her down, would she even live long enough to see dawn come the next morning?

Whitepaw could only hope she would.

After four days of isolation, Whitepaw padded out of the medicine den without Skystorm behind her. The silver she-cat was in the elder's den, feeding each of them their own small and desired batches of herbs for the upcoming leafbare.

Now Whitepaw sat outside the medicine den, washing her face with her nimble paw. Her eyes scanned the camp, the warriors, the deputy Creekblossom, and even Cliffstar himself. The brown tom was padding towards the nursery, most likely to see his mate Tabbyrose and their kits that had been born two sunrises ago. From what Skystorm had told her, all four of the kits looked like exact copies of their parents; two that were copies of Tabbyrose and two copies of Cliffstar. After much debate from the two parents and the other queens inside the nursery, the pair decided on names: Sablekit, Sandkit, Brownkit, and Specklekit.

"Hey, Whitepaw..."

The she-cat looked up to find Acornpaw standing before her. He was the only apprentice that decided to hold their warrior ceremony overtime do that Blackpaw wouldn't have to do it all by himself.

"Oh, hello Acornpaw." Whitepaw greeted the light orange tom with a friendly yet sad smile, trying to hide her emotions.

"How come you haven't been out of the medicine den for a while? Skystorm got your tail caught up in her massive amount of duties?" The orange tom let out a chuckle at the end of his sentence, trying to lighten the mood between the two cats. His gaze intently studied Whitepaw, and his face contorted into one of a serious manner. "Are you okay, Whitepaw?"

"I-I'm fine," Whitepaw hurriedly answered, her fake smile growing wider as of to prove her point, "why would you ask such a question?"

Acornpaw shrugged for a moment then took a step towards her, his amber gaze growing concerned. "You sure? Do you want to talk about it?"

Whitepaw almost leaped with joy at Acornpaw's question. Of course she wanted to talk! But there wasn't any cat to talk too, not one that would listen to her anyway...

But maybe, just maybe, Acornpaw would.

"I would like to talk, in all honesty," Whitepaw admitted with a shy flick on her ears. "But no cat is willing to take the time to ask me if I wanted too."

"I just did!" Acornpaw huffed as of offended, but by the playful glimmer in his eye Whitepaw could tell he was joking. He suddenly got a wide grin across his muzzle. "Meet me by the Frozen Oak at moonhigh tonight."

"But I've got to go to the Moonstone with Skystorm tonight," Whitepaw murmured sheepishly. "I can't miss it."

Acornpaw nudged her almost harshly. "Oh, come on! Can't you just skip it this one time?" He took another step towards her, his amber face growing warm. "Can't you skip it for me, just this once?"

Whitepaw smiled for the first time in moons. Really, truly, utterly smiled. "Moonhigh it is, then."