Bramblestar was pretty sleep-deprived, but Leafpool being in ShadowClan is important… There's a reason he's not holding that over their heads like an ass. Yes, Maplepaw's and Hawkpaw's names are a reference to Mapleshade and Hawkfrost, but Maplepaw's name mostly has to do with her pelt – what cat would want their kit named after Mapleshade? It was just a little joke I figured I'd throw in there.

I will update Celestial Ascendance as soon as I get another chapter for it written. Once this part of this story is done (it will be soon) I'll be getting on that. I've got a lot of projects and some things tend to fall by the wayside.

As for that name… The "Owl" part is fine but the "–strong" is not something I'd name a cat. If he's good at fighting, his suffix could be "-claw" or "-fang" or even "-blaze" if you want to go there… then again, I'm more of a traditional name person – Owlstrong doesn't really sound like a warrior cat name to me.

Chapter 16

Hawkpaw could hear Leafpool's paws pacing the soft floor of the medicine cat's den. He imagined the medicine cat's tail swishing from side to side as she expressed, "But why is his fur falling out?"

"I… I don't know," Mistpaw replied warily.

Hawkpaw ducked his head into the den. The patrol to visit ThunderClan had been yesterday, and today the entire Clan seemed to be on edge to see what ThunderClan would do. The Gathering was in three nights, and most of the Clan believed there would be a fight.

Leafpool, however, had been entirely unbiased on the matter. She showed no favor for fighting ThunderClan, of course, but she also showed no favor towards ShadowClan fighting either. Rowanstar had not officially asked her to take Littlecloud's place as ShadowClan's main medicine cat – not yet, at least. Perhaps he was waiting until the border debacle was over?

Hawkpaw nudged a huge wad of moss. Though Smokefoot was in the medicine cat's den, Tigerheart had sent him to gather moss for Leafpool since she seemed busy with Mistpaw. Hawkpaw didn't really want to do the stranger any favors, but Tigerheart was his mentor – temporary or not, Hawkpaw needed to listen.

Tufts of Smokefoot's dark gray fur lay on the ground, and Leafpool was sniffing them. Mistpaw was catching them in her claws, attempting to put them in a better-looking pile. Hawkpaw's spine bristled – Smokefoot had lost nearly all the fur off of one of his flanks!

"Did you groom him too harshly?" Leafpool asked.

"Of course not!" Mistpaw returned. "I was as gentle as possible! Was it one of the herbs we fed him?"

"I've never heard of an herb that would make one's fur fall out," Leafpool admitted. She patted the pile of fur with one paw. "Has he been itching? Is his skin irritated?"

Mistpaw darted over to their patient. Hawkpaw tried to lean in to get a good look, but the medicine cat den had a nice, private nook for patients in need of the more dire care. All Hawkpaw could see of his mentor was his limp tail.

"Not one that I can see," Mistpaw reported.

"I've already checked him for fleas and mange," Leafpool sighed. "He has neither!"

Smokefoot let out a groan. Hawkpaw's ears flicked at his raspy voice. "What's wrong with me…?" he asked.

Leafpool sighed, lashing her tail. "Go fetch him some water," she ordered Mistpaw. "Not from a pond or puddle – from a stream or the lake. Make sure that it's fresh."

"Of course, Leafpool," Mistpaw agreed.

The pale she-cat padded past Hawkpaw and squeezed out of the den. She didn't acknowledge Hawkpaw's presence – her task was obviously more urgent than Hawkpaw understood.

"I scent you there," Leafpool announced. "I don't know every scent by name, but I know you're there. What is it you want?"

Hawkpaw took a step closer. "I've brought you moss," he replied. "Tigerheart asked me to."

"Hawkpaw?" Leafpool called.

"Yes," Hawkpaw replied.

"Don't come any closer," Leafpool insisted. "I don't know yet if this is contagious, and I don't want to take the risk."

"H-How is he?" Hawkpaw asked. "I thought he just had a cold…"

"So did I," Leafpool mewed. "It's escalated, though, and I'm not sure what's happening. It's nothing I've seen before."

"Can you help him?" Hawkpaw asked. Worry for Smokefoot coursed through his pelt – he barely knew his mentor, but he knew that he was a good warrior who didn't deserve this.

Leafpool sighed. "I'm doing everything I can," she mewed. "Leave that moss there and then go yourself. I'm sure Tigerheart has something else planned for you today."

"Is there anything you need?" Hawkpaw asked.

"Well…" Leafpool mumbled some things to herself, and she poked a few piles of exposed leaves. "I could use some more feverfew. Smokefoot's fever spiked in the night, and we used nearly all of it to bring it back down. There should be some growing now that newleaf's here – Softpaw and I found some by one of the Twoleg paths. If you could fetch it that would be great."

"I'll tell Tigerheart," Hawkpaw mewed. "I'll have some by the end of the day."

Leafpool's amber eyes flashed. "Thank you, Hawkpaw," she mewed. "Try not to panic the Clan by blabbering about Smokefoot – I'm not sure if it's something to worry about yet and I definitely don't want too many cats clustering the den."

Hawkpaw waved his tail at her as he turned to leave the den. "I won't say anything," he promised. With one hind leg, her carefully pushed the gathered moss further into the medicine cat's den. Leafpool took it from him, her eyes shimmering with gratitude.

He padded across the camp and his eyes fell upon Softpaw. She was padding into camp with a mouse in her jaws, and Hawkpaw was beside her as she put it onto the growing fresh-kill pile.

"Do you want to go out again?" Hawkpaw asked. "Leafpool needs feverfew, and she said you know where to find it."

Softpaw's eyes blinked and glimmered. "Of course," she mewed. "Let me go tell Tawnypelt where I'll be."

"Could you tell Tigerheart too?" Hawkpaw asked. The two were sitting together, sharing tongues, just across the camp. Dawnpelt, Tigerheart's sister, was with them.

Softpaw nodded. "Meet me by the hollow oak," she asked. "I'll be there shortly."

She brushed past Hawkpaw as she left, and Hawkpaw caught her purring. His fur tingled, and he turned around to leave the camp. Despite whatever had come over Smokefoot, this was proving to be a good day.

"Here it was," Softpaw mewed.

Their walk through the forest had been great. It was a warm day, and the two apprentices had filled the woods with their quiet chatter and close pawsteps. Warm, crisp air blew through the tall pines, and clear blue skies allowed the sun to shine down and warm the ground they walked on.

Before them was a Twoleg path. It was one that was frequented by Twolegs and their dogs, so great caution had to be taken. Hawkpaw spotted the leafy feverfew plant just on the other side, near the ThunderClan border. The herb was shared by both the Clans, but Hawkpaw couldn't help but be cautious.

"Leafpool said it would be fine if we took some," Softpaw told him. "If ThunderClan catches us we just have to say she sent us to get it."

"I know," Hawkpaw sighed. "I just feel a little uncomfortable, that's all. I just got out of trouble for accidentally crossing the border, and now we're not so friendly with ThunderClan."

Softpaw purred, her whiskers twitching. "I can go and grab some, if you're too scared," she offered.

Hawkpaw fluffed his fur. "I am not scared!" he insisted. "I'm just worried, that's all."

He took a step out onto the path. He couldn't scent any recent Twoleg scent – they had passed by not too long ago, and he reckoned they wouldn't be back for a while. Hawkpaw darted across the path all the same, though, feeling exposed and uncomfortable in the Twoleg-frequented area.

The feverfew plant was small and still growing to its full potential, but it had a few stalks and leaves that could be used. Using his paws, Hawkpaw did his best to separate what was still growing and what was fully grown before he nipped off what was needed.

This is a lot harder than I thought, Hawkpaw thought, bristling a little. He had never thought of himself as a medicine cat, but he had to admit that it wasn't as easy as it looked to pick leaves and berries.

"Don't take too much!" Softpaw urged. "It doesn't grow so well in our territory."

Hawkpaw scraped together what he had collected, looking at the sad little feverfew plant. It looked as if he had mangled it, and he hoped that it would still grow. He picked up what he'd gathered in his jaws and then made his way across the path again.

Halfway across the path, Hawkpaw picked up a rustling sound. He stopped still.

"What's wrong?" Softpaw asked. "Get off there before a Twoleg comes!"

Hawkpaw scurried to the other side and dropped the feverfew onto the ground at Softpaw's paws. His jaws clear of the obstruction, he opened them to scent the air. The smell of ThunderClan overpowered his senses, but beneath it there was something more…

"What's going on…?" Softpaw asked. Instead of waiting for Hawkpaw to answer, she scanned the undergrowth on the other side of the path. She gasped, "Hawkpaw! Look!"

Hawkpaw snapped his attention to where Softpaw was looking. There, just barely hidden by the undergrowth, was a cat. Amber eyes gleamed from the brush, and broad, mottled shoulders were squared.

"He's on the ThunderClan side," Hawkpaw whispered. He had been in ThunderClan's camp yesterday – but he hadn't seen a male cat mottled in such a way in their camp. "He must be a rogue."

"We should get back to camp," Softpaw insisted. She pushed the feverfew towards him. "Take that – I'll keep an eye out. We'll tell Tawnypelt and she'll send a patrol to deal with it."

Hawkpaw picked up the herbs in his jaws and, reluctantly, turned his back on the unknown tom. He looked back, finding that the amber eyes were still watching him. The tomcat made no move to cross the Twoleg path.

Who are you? He wondered. And what do you want?