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"Mistlestar?"
"What?" Mistlestar jumped to her paws and collapsed again. "Ouch,"
Silver suppressed a giggle. "Oh, just checking on you."
"You startled me," protested Mistlestar crossly. She rubbed her paw on the sore spot on her head.
"That was a pretty bad hit," remarked Silver. "It was that jagged rock down in the clearing,"
"Wowsers!" exclaimed Mistlestar. "What did you want to tell me?"
"Oh, the apprentice's made their way back here. Mouseeye, Frogpelt, and Thornsnow found them."
"Are they all alright?" Mistlestar checked.
"Yes," Silver turned around. She padded out of the den and called over her shoulder, "I'll give you three days, and then you need to get busy,"
Three moonrises and sunsets later, Mistlestar was feeling much better. The gash on her head had closed up, and Badgerfleck had reluctantly deemed her, 'healthy'.
"Now shoo," Whiskerpelt scolded. "You are getting underpaw,"
"Well, sorry," joked Mistlestar. She slipped out of the enclosed medicine den and into the open camp. Half the Clan was still asleep, and the rest were sprawled out underneath the Pebble Hill, waiting for Mistlestar.
Flamewhisker darted up to her. "Goldenwillow slipped out after the duel," she reported. "We think she headed back to the Clans."
"But she was banished," realized Mistlestar. "They won't let her back in!"
"Actually, Graywhisker has confided that Goldenwillow was not officially banished," Silver mumbled.
"What?"
"Sorry, Mistlestar," Silver said, "but she only left because Riverstar ordered her to settle the Clans in,"
"Why would he do that?" Mistlestar said, flummoxed.
"So when she comes back, they know where our camp is. They can find us if we prove a threat," explained Silver hastily.
"Oh, great," moaned Mistlestar.
"Let's not worry about it for now," Silver insisted. "StreamClan needs you."