Disclaimer: I do not own The Mr. Men Show or Warriors or any of their characters. But I own the idea for this story.

Note: I own the StarClan cat, Snowheart. I wanted Spottedleaf to come speak to the medicine cat, but those who have read The Last Hope knows why I couldn't do that, so I just put in a cat I own. She was once ShadowClan's medicine cat after the events of Night Whispers, and she is Tawnypelt's daughter, but of course not in the book. I just squeezed that part in as a FanFiction kind of story.

The cat found himself on the edge of a pine forest. He flicked his tail. He didn't remember coming here. The last thing he remembered was that he was in camp with the rest of his friends. Now it was just him and he wondered where everyone was.

He looked around, trying to spot someone he knew, but he briefly thought it would be hard to recognize anyone because they were cats now and he was having trouble telling who was who. For a moment he let anger and annoyance consume him. Then he flicked his tail, deciding those emotions weren't worth it. He was curious to know how he came here.

Then he smelled a new scent, and he followed it until he came to a clearing. In the middle of the open space stood a pure white she-cat. She blinked dark blue eyes at him and beckoned him forward.

Cautiously, he approached, crouching down low as he got closer. Who was this cat?

"Greetings," she purred.

He looked up at her. "Who are you?" he breathed out.

"My name is Snowheart, and I've come a long way to help you." She laid her tail on his shoulder. "Get up. I have something to show you."

The cat straightened up and padded after the snow-pelted cat. She took him farther into the pine forest, until the ground started turning boggy underpaw and soon the cat realized they were walking through a marshy area on the edge of the pine forest. Snowheart stopped and pointed toward some plants. Looking closer, the cat saw a dark green, tall, bristly-stemmed plant, and when he inhaled, he smelt a pungent and clean scent.

"Remember this plant," Snowheart told him. "It's called horsetail, and it will help fight any infection. Just chew up the plant into a pulp and rub it into the wound. But you need to clean the wound first. Give it a thorough wash with your tongue."

"My tongue," the cat gasped.

Snowheart purred. "Or you can use a damp moss. Just make sure the wound is clean of dirt and grit. Then lick the pulp on, or you can rub it on with your paw. It should help heal any infection. Redress the wound with cobwebs to keep the poultice in place."

The cat stared at her wide-eyed. "How do you know all this?" he asked.

"Because I'm a medicine cat," she answered. "And it's your destiny to become one, too."

The cat gaped at her. "Me? A medicine cat? But I don't know about herbs or anything! I had no idea what to do for the injured cat! Why can't Mr. Small be the medicine cat?"

Snowheart blinked gently at him. "I will train you," she promised. "I can walk in your dreams and tell you what to do, and in no time, you'll be able to handle things on your own."

"But–" he tried to interrupt, but the she-cat laid her tail on his muzzle.

"Believe in yourself," she murmured. Then she started calling his name, but her voice was different now. Someone was shaking him and saying his name.

"Mr. Tickle! Mr. Tickle, wake up!"

Blinking, Mr. Tickle found himself lying in the camp. It had been Mr. Bump who woke him. Yawning, the smokey-gray tom sat up. Then he realized that he must have fallen asleep, but he didn't remember actually going to sleep. Then he remembered his dream and the snowy she-cat and what she said.

It's your destiny to become a medicine cat, he echoed in his head. He knew nothing about herbs or healing. How was he supposed to become a medicine cat?

Then he remembered what she said about the horsetail and that she explained how to help the injured cat. Glancing around, he spotted Mr. Small talking to a couple of their friends. He hurried over there and called his name.

The small cat turned, alarm flashing in his eyes. "Is everything okay?" he asked as Mr. Tickle stopped in front of him.

"I had a dream!" Mr. Tickle blurted, and he described what he saw and everything Snowheart told him, about helping the injured cat and how he was supposed to become a medicine cat.

By the end of his description of his dream, Mr. Small was looking very thoughtful. "So it seems like StarClan is watching over us after all," he meowed.

Mr. Tickle stared at him. "StarClan?" he gasped.

"I don't know the cat who visited you. Snowheart, you said her name was?" After he nodded, the small cat continued: "But she has to be a StarClan cat if she showed you the herb and how to use it." He looked up at the sky and breathed out," Thank you, StarClan!" There was relief and gratitude in his mew.

Then he lowered his gaze to Mr. Tickle again. "We must go at once to find the horsetail," he meowed, and he turned to the cats he had been talking to before. "Once Mr. Bounce, Miss. Curious, and Miss. Daredevil gets back with their patrols, hand out all the prey. Most of our friends haven't eaten since we've been here, and they are bound to be getting weak. I bet soon even Mr. Fussy might have trouble objecting to something to eat." Turning to Mr. Tickle, he explained," I sent three patrols out with Mr. Bounce, Miss. Curious, and Miss. Daredevil since they have a little bit of hunting experience, seeing that they caught something yesterday when Mr. Nosy took them out. Hopefully they bring enough food back for every cat."

Mr. Tickle shifted his paws and didn't say anything. He still didn't know if he wanted to try woodland creatures, but he reluctantly told himself if that's all they had, then he had to eat it. His stomach growled, as if agreeing with him.

Someone calling his name knocked Mr. Tickle out of his thoughts. "Are you ready to go?" Mr. Small asked him, eyeing him up and down, concerned in his gaze.

"Oh yes," Mr. Tickle replied, shaking his pelt. He paused before meowing," Do you know where we're going?"

Mr. Small widened his eyes. "Don't you know?" he asked.

"I was on the edge of a pine forest," Mr. Tickle explained. "And Snowheart led me to a marshy area. Maybe we can find the horsetail there?" He shifted his paws uneasily. Will they be able to find the plant?

"Let's go," Mr. Small said, and he got up and headed toward the camp entrance.

Mr. Tickle hurried after him. They climbed the slope and stopped at the top, gazing around the forest. "You said you were in pines?" the small cat asked.

Mr. Tickle nodded. He looked around. Most of the trees around them were oak. Which way should they go?

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a flicker of movement and he turned, widening his eyes when he saw a faint outline of a cat standing a few feet in the forest. After a moment he realized it was Snowheart.

"Do you see that?" Mr. Tickle asked Mr. Small, who turned to where he was pointing. He narrowed his eyes and then shook his head.

"No. What is it?" Mr. Small asked.

"I see Snowheart," the smoky-gray tom meowed. He realized the ghostly cat was gesturing to him. "She wants me to follow her."

"Lead on." Mr. Small swept his tail around to indicate that he should go first.

Taking the lead, following in the StarClan's pawsteps, Mr. Tickle looked around. They came to a dirt trail that looked like it was used regularly by people, and the two cats hesitated on the edge, making sure nobody was around before crossing. Snowheart led them deep into the forest, and soon here and there pine trees started popping up, and then they stepped into a big clearing. Mr. Tickle realized it was the clearing he met Snowheart.

The ghostly cat didn't stop. She walked across the open area and plunged into the woods on the other side. Mr. Tickle followed her, and Mr. Small was right behind him, seeming confident that Mr. Tickle knew where he was going, even if he couldn't see Snowheart.

Now there were more pine trees than any other kind of trees, and not long after they entered the pine forest, they came to a marshy area. Snowheart stopped beside some plants and pointed with her tail. Mr. Tickle recognized the herb horsetail from his dream. He breathed in its clean scent and then exhaled, feeling excited about finally being able to help the injured cat.

Mr. Small stepped forward and sniffed the plant. "I think I remember this plant," he murmured. "Medicine cats use it for infection. Good job, Mr. Tickle."

"It wasn't me," Mr. Tickle said, turning toward the ghostly cat. "It was–" He stopped. Snowheart was gone. He looked all around. "Where did she go?" he asked.

Mr. Small blinked. "The StarClan cat?" When Mr. Tickle nodded, the small cat shrugged. "She showed us the herb, so her job was done. But she'll be back, won't she? She promised to teach you how to become a medicine cat, didn't she?"

"But I'm not sure I can be a medicine cat," Mr. Tickle confessed, lowering his head. "What if I mess up somehow? And how am I supposed to remember all the herbs and plants and everything about healing?"

"Relax," Mr. Small said, laying his tail on his shoulder. "Clearly StarClan believes in you, and so do I. Now it's time for you to believe in yourself."

Mr. Tickle stared at him. Snowheart had told him to believe in himself, too. He took a deep breath and let it out. Bending down, he carefully snapped off several of the plants. He didn't know how many he'd need, but he decided to take as much as they can carry in case someone else gets hurt.

They were gathering the herbs together when they heard a rustling in the undergrowth, followed by a growl. Mr. Tickle stiffened. Was it a fox? He exchanged a terrified look with Mr. Small, who looked frozen to the spot, eyes wide.

The growling continued, but no fox appeared. Suddenly the growling broke off into fits of laughter and a cat rolled out of the grass, laughing so hard it couldn't breath. It was a pale ginger she-cat.

"You should have seen your faces!" she giggled, rolling around in the mud, not seeming to care that she was getting dirty. "That was hilarious!"

"It was not!" Mr. Tickle snapped, angry at this she-cat and also angry at himself for being so scared. He fluffed up his pelt and glared at her.

Mr. Small, seeming to be struggling to remain calm, approached the laughing cat. "Who are you?" he asked.

She composed herself and stood up. "I'm Little Miss Trouble," she said, seeming annoyed that she had to tell them her name. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm Mr. Small," the small cat said, then he gestured to Mr. Tickle. "And this is Mr. Tickle."

Little Miss Trouble stared at them, mouth open in shock. "I know you!" she gasped. "You used to live in MIsterland, didn't you?"

"Yes, a long time ago," Mr. Small replied. "We were living in a town called Dillydale, before–" He broke off and exchanged a glance with Mr. Tickle.

"Before what?" Little Miss Trouble's eyes narrowed. "Do you know what happened to us? Why we are cats now?" Before either of them could reply, she suddenly launched forward and started pushing the smaller cat in a direction. "You must come with me to tell everyone what you know!"

"Everyone?" Mr. Tickle asked, following them.

Little Miss Trouble stopped pushing Mr. Small and turned to look at him. "We all woke up two days ago as cats and we have no idea why or how. We've been trying to figure it out, but we haven't seen another cat since we got here. But you know why we're cats now," she said to Mr. Small," and you must come back with me and explain everything."

"But we have something important to do," Mr. Small told her. "There's an injured cat back in our camp, and we need those herbs to help her. Let us go back and put a poultice on her wound. Then we'll come back; I promise."

Little Miss Trouble hesitated. "No," she said, shaking her head. "You must come now. We have two very sick cats! Mr. Greedy and Little Miss Greedy. They have not eaten in two days and they are very sick! You must come now!" She started pushing him again, and this time, he went along with her.

Glancing at the pile of herbs, Mr. Tickle sighed. He picked up a mouth full, hoping it'll be enough to help the injured cat once they get back, but he didn't think after they went to find Little Miss Trouble's friends, they'd have time to come back and collect more.

He followed the two cats, glancing up at the sky. At least the rain had stopped and the clouds were drifting away. He was surprised to see the sun was starting to set. It had been two whole days since they turned into cats, and Mr. Tickle haven't eaten. He was starting to get a little weak. Then he thought about Mr. Greedy and Little Miss Greedy and realized they needed to help their friends. Those two liked to eat a lot, and having not been able to eat in the last couple of days, they must be very sick.

He quickened his pace, herbs still in his mouth, and he walked beside Mr. Small as they followed Little Miss Trouble deeper into the pine forest.

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