(✓) Warriors ▸ Shadows of the Domestic [1]

Chapter 25

I lay there, basking in a shaft of warm sunlight, my body still slightly sore from the battle we had just endured. Yellowfang had already treated my wounds after the fight, but aside from a few scratches, I was mostly fine. The pain was a mere whisper in my thoughts, easily overshadowed by the thrill of our victory.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," came a gruff voice, and I sighed, rubbing my eyes with my paw to see Yellowfang standing over me, a sprig of catmint in her mouth. "You need to treat your wounds again," she said. I groaned but nodded, allowing her to tend to the small scratches along my flank and the barely visible ones on my nose. The memory of the ShadowClan warrior who had almost clawed my face apart flashed through my mind. If it hadn't been for Whitestorm, the outcome might have been far worse.

Yellowfang's touch was surprisingly gentle for someone with such a rough exterior. As she worked, I observed her with new appreciation. Her grizzled fur was a testament to her many battles, and the scars she bore were like a map of her life. Despite her harsh demeanor, there was a deep well of compassion within her, especially when it came to healing.

Speak of the cat, he was already upon us. "Hey there, my dear, feeling better?" Whitestorm asked, brushing his nose against mine affectionately.

Yellowfang sighed. "Leave her be, will you?" she growled, swishing her tail at the older warrior, who snorted in response.

"Sorry, Yellowfang, I didn't mean to step on your tail," he replied, seating himself a bit away from the working medicine cat but still directing his attention towards me. "I thought we might go out hunting today, if Yellowfang says you're well enough to go, that is," he said, looking at Yellowfang expectantly.

She rolled her yellow eyes dramatically. "Sure, go ahead and tear your wounds open again, why should I care," she grumbled, her tail twitching with irritation.

I brushed a paw against her, trying to mollify her. "I'm fine, I promise, Yellowfang. Just a few scratches," I insisted, but she shook her head resolutely.

"They will get infected if I don't treat them properly. Lying in the sun is as far as you're allowed to go today, so no hunting. But tomorrow, you can," she grunted in a tone that brooked no argument.

I sighed, feeling a mixture of gratitude and frustration. "Alright, I'll stay put," I relented, knowing better than to argue further with her.

Whitestorm chuckled softly, his yellow eyes twinkling with amusement. "You heard her; your orders are to rest up," he said with a playful nudge.

I nodded, feeling a wave of warmth at the care both Whitestorm and Yellowfang showed me, even if it came in different forms. The camp continued to bustle around us, a reminder of the life and community we had fought to protect.

"Maybe tomorrow, we can bring back the biggest prey in the forest," I said, my voice tinged with hopeful determination.

"That sounds like a plan," Whitestorm agreed, his gaze full of confidence.

For now, resting in the warmth, surrounded by the sights and sounds of our thriving camp, I felt at peace. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but we would face them together, as always.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

A few hours later, I was gently awakened by a familiar presence. I blinked my eyes open to see Firepaw smiling down at me. "Wake up, sleepyhead," he purred, giving my cheek a friendly lick. I purred back and pushed myself up onto my paws. Just as I was about to stretch, Yellowfang appeared, her eyes narrowing at Firepaw.