Warrior Cats: Shadow Propechy (ENG VER.)

CHAPTER 12

A strong breeze rattled the den, making the bushes and twigs shiver. The queen hugged her kits as if they were going to fly away with the wind. They meowed, shaken by the cold and wind. One of them opened its tiny mouth in a dry, terrible cough. Its soft, black, striped fur rose and fell as the kit struggled to breathe.

The queen's fur stood on end at the sight of something so terrible. She tossed her head to the side, calling out to the medicine cat. "Morningcloud! He's coughing again!"

The cream medicine cat spun around, setting her herbs aside. She hurried over to the queen, examining the tiny kit. The dark brown she-cat stared at Morningcloud with wide eyes. Morningcloud shook her head miserably. "I was right," she meowed, her tone sad. "Your kits have whitecough."

"No!" Sparrowwing let out a scream of terror, hugging her two kits. She raised her head, pleading to Morningcloud. "Please, you have to save them!"

Morningcloud went to her medicinal herbs, searching with her paws. She rummaged through the various leaves, pushing with her muzzle. "Oh, haredung!"

Sparrowwing lifted her head, her eyes following the she-cat's every movement. "What is it?"

"I used up the rest of my catmint on Wolfstar," she revealed, berating herself for forgetting to ask for more.

The queen looked down at her kits as she thought of their leader. After losing his first life, he returned to the camp. A few days later, he couldn't even get up, so weak he was. The cats were fearful and uneasy with the leader's illness, who had not left the den since he became ill.

Sparrowwing licked her orange kit, then suddenly pricked up her ears and searched for Morningcloud with her eyes. "You don't think he's the reason my kits have whitecough, do you?"

"I was sure I had more..." Morningcloud pawed at the various leaves, roots, and flowers, climbing up onto the rock propped up in the corner of her den to search behind it. "Your kits would get sick one way or another, Sparrowwing," she meowed, not paying attention to the queen's offended, angry expression. "It's sad, but it's the truth."

Sparrowwing opened her mouth, but said nothing. She lowered her head, watching the tiny kits move. Her heart swelled with anguish as she imagined losing them. "I heard Brokenfang is sick."

Morningcloud scrambled down from the rock, clawing the ground in rage. I can't believe I used all my mint on one cat! "He had a fever last night," she replied, walking through the den. She stopped at the entrance, muttering. "I hope that's all it was. A fever."

Without saying another word, she slipped out of her den, tangling her soft fur in thorns. As she stepped into the battered grass of the camp, Morningcloud was met with a strong breeze, making her close her eyes with the force of the wind. It was dusk, the sun was slowly going down between the trees. The camp was empty because of the cold weather, with just a few warriors returning from hunting patrol.

Among the warriors was Treestripe. The Siamese warrior carried a thin mouse between his sharp teeth. With a melancholic thud, the mouse fell among the other prey, equally thin and without meat.

As he looked around, the warrior met the medicine cat's eyes, who called to him with a flick of her tail.

"Yes?" he meowed as he approached, ears flattened against his head by the wind.

"I need you to go find some catmint for me." She nodded toward her own den. "Sparrowwing kits have whitecough, and I've used up all my stash of Wolfstar."

Treestripe nodded, but lashed his tail, pointing toward the leader's den. "Sharpear told us not to leave camp again today."

"Why?" She wrinkled her nose, controlling herself not to take her anger out on her half brother. "Don't tell me he's still afraid of Sapstar?"