Warriors: Frecklesky's Heart

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Frecklesky's senses were alert, but her hackles lowered slightly as she realized that their attackers were gone. ThunderClan scent choked the air, but only familiar faces were present, twisted in pain and fury as blood scattered the earth floor.

"Okay, you can—" Frecklesky began, but her voice cut short as she turned to find her sister following her inside. Her pelt bristled. "What are you doing?" She hissed. "I told you to hide!"

Fallowstep rolled her eyes and plunged past her sister. "Oh, stuff a mouse in it, would you? I'm a medicine cat, and the Clan needs me. I don't have to listen to your orders." Her whiskers flicked in annoyance as she raced off to tend to the first cat she could find, that being Graycloud.

Frecklesky's anger choked her as she stood there, staring slack-jawed after her sister as the ginger medicine cat peppered Graycloud with questions.
Red smothered her vision, and her claws dug fiercely into the earth. How could she? If ThunderClan were still here, she could've gotten hurt!

"Frecklesky!" A shout ripped her out of her anger-stricken trance, and the tortoiseshell warrior jerked her head to the side, the palpitations of her heart stuttering to a halt. Larkstar nodded her over. "I need you to take Firewatcher to find if ThunderClan is still on our territory. Do not attack. If you find them, report back to me. If you can't, mark the borders. Understood?"

Frecklesky's claws slipped into their sheathes, bits of soil stuffing uncomfortably beneath them. "Yes, Larkstar." She flicked an ear uneasily, her eyes darting around the devastated camp. "What exactly happened?"

Larkstar curled her lip. "Brightstar and his wounded ego attacked the medicine den. Heronwing is fine," she added quickly, "but our herbs are not."

Frecklesky's eyes flashed to the old tree stump that made up the medicine den. "They attacked our herbs?"

"Yes, now go. ThunderClan won't wait." She bared her teeth.

Nodding, Frecklesky slipped quickly away, searching for the familiar red fur of Firewatcher. She spotted him guiding Beetleflight across the clearing. The elder's black fur was soaked with thick blood, staining her pelt dark.

"What are you doing?" Frecklesky asked, hanging at a tail's length.

Firewatcher shook his head. "I'm trying to get her to a medicine cat. She's seriously hurt."

Frecklesky's eyes flashed. "She'll be fine. Larkstar wants you to hunt down the ThunderClan cats with me, so let's go." She flicked her tail assertively, glancing over her shoulder where Larkstar was mingling about the Clan, addressing the wounded and helping where she could. Her white and gray pelt had a few scratches, but nothing serious.

She shot her eyes back to Firewatcher, who'd reluctantly flattened his ears as the elder stumbled. "But shouldn't we—"

"Leader's orders," Frecklesky interrupted. "Come on."

Without waiting for a response, the thick-furred warrior spun on her paws and marched over to the camp entrance, stepping carelessly over the injured and treading on a few paws. Their complaints brought a tingle to her ears.

She pushed through the thorn barrier and emerged back into the marsh. The sound of frogs and buzzing insects had returned to the air. Behind her, the ground squished as Firewatcher squeezed out beside her, his amber eyes narrowed to slits.