The Darkest Moons (Warrior Cats)

47. Aftermath

     The sun shone bright, offering warmth to the cats of the Clan. Of course, many were still healing; the battle had only happened yesterday. Those able were quick to hunt and patrol. Some, though, were somber. While Scorchpaw mourned the cat he had killed, Miststep and Ashtail doted over Redwing. 
     Echopaw carefully pressed more cobwebs to the warrior’s neck to soak up the blood that had spilled from her stretched wound. Redwing had stubbornly twisted about, restless in her nest. 
     “It will take a while for her wounds to heal properly,” Cobweb murmured. 
     Echopaw ignored him. She was still agitated over her argument with Palepaw, which burned in her mind every time she saw the ghost. “You’re lucky there’s no infection,” Echopaw said sternly. Redwing huffed and buried her nose into the moss.  
     Stepping back, Echopaw admired her work and gave a little nod. Tired of the den, feeling cramped with her patient, she hurried out and stretched. The sun was gently hot; a pleasant change from the cold that Cobweb emitted. The Clan was lively, the morning’s hunting patrol returning. Poppy walked with them, a large thrush hanging from her jaws. She looked proud as she dropped it on the fresh-kill pile. Froststrike sent her a cross look, his only prey being a few mice. 
     She seems eager to help out. That’s good. 
     The cold seeped over Echopaw once more. “I remember when her mother was expecting. Claw was a good cat,” Cobweb said wistfully. “I’m glad her daughter has grown up to be such a noble cat.” 
     Echopaw kept quiet. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for DarkClan’s newest guest, who had abandoned everything she’d known for the sake of a group of forest cats. She watched Poppy as she bobbed her head, speaking with Shadowclaw. Every so often, she’d glance towards Scorchpaw, who crouched by the camp’s wall. 
     Sadness made Echopaw’s throat close. To see her brother sulking, obviously sleepless and aching, made her feel as heavy as a rock. Sparrow’s death was an accident. He knows that. 
     Echopaw awkwardly trotted towards her brother. “You should get something to eat.” 
     “I’m not hungry,” Scorchpaw mewed, tucking his paws under his chest. 
     “You need to be able to help the Clan. Besides, you’ll feel better,” Echopaw insisted. 
     Poppy stepped beside Scorchpaw and set one of Froststrike’s mice in front of him. “Please?” 
     Scorchpaw shook his head. Agitated, Echopaw dug her claws into the earth. “Scorchpaw, let’s take a walk.” 
     “No-“ 
     “As your medicine cat, I command you to take a walk with me.” Echopaw kept her voice stern, but a chill shot up her spine when her littermate looked at her with slit pupils. He didn’t speak, instead getting up and tromping towards the bramble tunnel. Echopaw hurried after him. 
     The two walked for a while, wandering through the forest. The ground was peppered with light coming in shafts through the canopy. No clouds moved above, the sky a beautiful, hopeful blue. If only everyone’s mood was as positive. 
     Scorchpaw stopped abruptly, and Echopaw studied her surroundings. A mound of freshly churned dirt poked up, halfway between camp and the border. Sparrow’s grave. 
     “Scorchpaw,” Echopaw mewed, uncertain of what to say. “He- It’s no use-“ 
     Scorchpaw lashed his tail from side to side. “I killed a cat, Echopaw.” 
     “It was an accident,” Echopaw persisted. She thought of Rainfall’s kits, and of Tigerstripe, Fallenstar, and Clearwhisker. “Cats die. It’s- It’s a natural thing.” 
     “He had a life. Family! Kin! He was fighting for something! For survival!” Scorchpaw snarled, baring his teeth and raking the ground, ripping grass apart. “Do you really think that he was meant to die? That a cat’s life is supposed to be cut short like that? Just because it happens doesn’t mean it’s right!” 
     Echopaw cowered back. She had never seen such frustration in her brother, who began pacing back and forth. “The Code says that a warrior doesn’t have to kill to win a battle!” He spat. “Murder is wrong, Echopaw!” 
     “You were defending yourself,” Echopaw whispered. Scorchpaw’s amber gaze fell on her and turned cold and angry. 
     “He was doing the same,” he hissed. “He had a life. Hopes! Dreams! He may have loved someone! Maybe he had a mate? Or kits? Parents? And they’ve lost him!” The fire burned out, and Scorchpaw plopped down and hung his head. “He’s dead, Echopaw. He was a rogue, and an enemy, but he was still a cat. A living, breathing cat.” 
     “You can’t shut down.” Echopaw edged closer to her brother. “You can mourn, but there’s nothing that will change what happened. All you can do is move on, and work to help your Clan.” She settled by him and carefully licked his ear. “Trust me, I know.” 
     “I guess you felt the same about Emberkit and Ashenkit.” Scorchpaw sighed. “It’s just . . . so hard to grasp.” 
     Echopaw nodded. “It is. But we have to work forward. We have to keep working for our Clan.” She offered a gentle purr, much like the one their mother provided when they needed comfort. “Get some rest, and hunt. Do patrols. Whatever it takes to get your mind off of it all. Okay?” 
     Scorchpaw dipped his head. “I’ll try.” 

     The walk back was silent, and Echopaw felt a prickle of relief as her sibling disappeared into his den. “Thank you,” a gentle voice said. Echopaw turned to watch as Poppy walked closer. “He looks so miserable.” 
     “What was Sparrow like?” Echopaw questioned.  
     “Kind,” Poppy explained. “Kind and adventurous, but also very proud. He was raised to hate the Clans, so he was pretty excited to fight against them.” 
     “What’s his family like?” Echopaw asked. Curiosity tore at her.  
     Poppy hummed to herself. “Reyna — she’s his mother — she’s really sweet. His father is named Eagle and he’s, well, he’s very lopsided. He can’t decide if he hates Clancats or not. And then there’s Sparrow’s littermates, Thorn and Finch.” Poppy snorted. “Thorn is a creep. Angry and stuff, and he never left me alone. Finch was always really weird. Scared of everything. Nothing scares her more than Clancats and monsters.” The humor in Poppy’s expression disappeared, replacing itself with sympathy. “Some former warrior kidnapped her and threw her into the thunderpath when she was only a kit. She’s never forgotten.” 
     “That’s horrible.” The thought of a rogue dragging Echopaw into the thunderpath made her feel ill. She had seen Vine’s tattered, mangled corpse before it was buried. 
     “Thank you for walking with Scorchpaw,” Poppy said gratefully.  
     “I’m the Clan’s medicine cat, and his sister. Why wouldn’t I?” Echopaw mewed. 
     Poppy shrugged. “My littermates died when they were young, so I wouldn’t know how helpful sisters are. I’m gonna check on Scorchpaw.” With that, she hurried to the apprentices’ den. 
     “Echopaw?” 
     Echopaw twisted to see Helen looking disheveled. Though her voice was calm, fear flickered in her eyes. “Rosepetal has a fever. She won’t stop shivering.” 
     “What?” Echopaw stared at the she-cat in disbelief. “Has she said anything?” 
     “She mentioned being very tired yesterday, and feeling cold. I thought it was from the rain, and her expecting kits. I-“ Helen’s false relaxation broke. “I’m sorry- I didn’t think-“ 
     “Don’t be,” Echopaw rushed. The last thing she needed was another guilty cat. “I’ll get something for her. Feverfew should work. Can you get her to my den?” 
      “I can stay with her,” Helen insisted.  
     “I want her to stay with me so I can keep a constant watch on her.” Echopaw was swift, hurrying to her den. Cobweb was settled in the corner. Ashtail was lying beside Redwing, gently grooming her sister’s pelt. “Ashtail, can you make a nest for Rosepetal? She has a fever and I want her to stay in here so I can observe her.” I can’t let her get too sick. She’s expecting! 
     “Of course!” Ashtail chirped, barreling outside to gather moss. Echopaw dove into her stores, searching for the white and yellow flowers that she needed. She snatched up some of the herb and turned, watching as Rosepetal inched into the den. Echopaw dropped the feverfew in front of her.  
     “Eat these. Ashtail is getting moss for a nest. I want you to rest afterwards, okay?” 
     Rosepetal bobbed her head up and down and, with an effort, lapped up the flowers and chewed them, making a disgusted face. “Thank you,” She mewed, shuddering. “It’s cold-“ 
     Cobweb immediately left, taking that as a cue to leave. “It’s the fever. You’ll shiver a lot,” Echopaw explained. Relief washed over her as Ashtail began to construct a nest, then backing away. “Rest. You need it.” 
     Rosepetal slipped into the nest and hummed. “I’m sorry to be such a fuss.” 
     “There’s more at stake than you. Besides, you’re our Clanmate,” Ashtail purred. “Shadowclaw fussed at me for not going on my patrol earlier, so I have to make up for it now. I have to go.” The sweet warrior ducked out of the den. 
     “Get some air. You’ve been busy all day. I’ll watch over her,” Helen said softly. Echopaw nodded, feeling compelled to listen, and followed after Ashtail. She sat by her den and looked to the sky. The sun was beginning to set. 
     I go to the Moonpool tomorrow. Echopaw shifted her paws nervously. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Something fell over her, like a veil of dark smoke, freezing her. She opened her eyes, and everything felt dark. Water lapped at her toes.  
     She turned her head and gasped when she saw Cobweb beside her, glittering, his nose touched to the Moonpool. The rest of the Clan’s medicine cats were doing the same. Only she was left. 
      Everything blurred, and Echopaw staggered back, shaken to her core. She had received a vision. Cobweb must go with me.