“She isn’t here!” Sharpfang burst through the entrance. “Rainystripe has left the camp!”
Leafsong started. “Really? You checked everywhere?”
Sharpfang nodded.
The Medicine Cat leapt to her feet. “You are the ‘Deputy’ for Starclan’s sake! Send out search parties!”
Sharpfang looked dazed for a minute. Then he straitened. “Of course!”
He sped from the den and called a search party together. “We must find Rainystripe!” He yowled.
Stunned, the clan gathered together as if he were leader.
“Gingerthorn, Dotpelt! Adderface! Ashclaw! Come with me!”
Whitefur trotted up, disgruntled. “Wait! Why can’t I go? I know her too!” It was clear that he was sleepy.
Sharpfang paused and looked disdainfully over Whitefur’s sleep clouded eyes and his ruffled pelt. “No. You probably wouldn’t be able to keep your eyes open.” Then he spun around. “We are wasting time! Lets go! Adderface and Dotpelt and Ashclaw! Go to the stream. Gingerthorn, come with me!”
Ashclaw’s search party scurried off and Sharpfang took off. Casting a glance over his shoulder, he made sure that Whitefur would stay in camp. Then he charged on. Suddenly he screeched to a halt. Gingerthorn barely managed not to bump into him, when he leapt to his feet and started to sniff the ground.
“Fox dung! This snow is killing my sense of smell!” Sharpfang snorted angrily.
“That isn’t the only thing,” Gingerthorn grumbled.
“What did you say?” Sharpfang turned around angrily.
“Don’t you have any sense? You should know by now that Rainystripe loves Darkstorm, and he loves her. There is no way you can win her back now.”
Sharpfang snarled. “No. There is a way. As soon as I rescue her, she’ll come back to me.”
Gingerthorn turned on him. “I can’t believe you are so blind! Stop pretending! Come back to the real world! Can’t you see?” Suddenly her expression changed and she drew closer to him. Sharpfang you have so much. A good position, a loyal clan,” She touched her muzzle to his ear, “Would it be so hard to find another cat to love you?” She backed away and sucked in her breath. “But we do still have to find Rainystripe.”
A wail suddenly rent the snowy air.
“Maybe that’s Rainystripe!” Sharpfang dashed in the direction of the sound, closely followed by Gingerthorn. They charged through the underbrush, snow falling on them so thickly that they could hardly see where they were going. Then the fresh scent of mouse penetrated the night air.
“She must have hunted here!” Sharpfang exclaimed jubilantly.
Gingerthorn sniffed the air. “Her scent is fresh! Too fresh.”
“Here…” A voice weakly said.
“Rainystripe!” Sharpfang and Gingerthorn turned just in time to see Rainystripe’s eyes fall closed. “We have to bring her back to camp!”
Gingerthorn was already at her side. “She is chilled to the bone!”
Sharpfang raced over to her. Shoving his body under hers, he lifted her up out of the drift.
“Careful!”
Sharpfang ignored Gingerthorn and started back to camp.
**********
“You found her!” Leafsong exclaimed as an ice-encrusted Sharpfang stumbles into her den. Sharpfang lays down, too tired to speak. At once, Leafsong scurried off to the herb storage. Darkstorm peeped open an eye and would’ve leapt up were it not for his sickness. “What happened?” he croaked.
Sharpfang seemed to have recovered his breath and explained that he and Gingerthorn had found her in the woods. The unconscious Rainystripe was pitiful to look at. Icy fur, a swollen belly and a crusty nose. Then Leafsong returned, carrying a bundle of herbs.
“Its not like she’s dieing, you know,” She snorted. “She has only a cold.”
“Then why is she unconscious?” Sharpfang demanded.
“Because,” Leafsong chose her words with care. “Because, with the kits coming, she didn’t have enough strength to withstand the cold, so her body just shut down. Not to mention she had just hunted something!” She eyed the two toms. “Any other questions?”
Both lowered their heads.
“Good. Now, Sharpfang, eat these and return to your nest. Don’t move from there till tomorrow at sunhigh.” She pushed three leaves toward him. Then she turned to Darkstorm. “All you need right now is sleep.” She turned her attention to Rainystripe, who was still unconscious. “And Rainystripe needs the same.” She trotted to the edge of the den and rolled together a large ball of moss from a pile in the corner. “The younger warriors were nice enough to gather this for me.” She began to spread out the moss, but paused, casting a glance at the already dozing Darkstorm. Then she moved closer to him and continued to spread out the moss. After connecting their nests, she moved toward Rainystripe. Already a puddle of melted snow lay beneath her. “Sorry,” Leafsong mumbled to her long-time friend. Then she began to drag her. Finally, Leafsong got Rainystripe into the nest. Tiredly, she lay beside her friend and began licking her dripping pelt.
