StarClan isn't real..

Chapter 14

Yellowpaw felt terrible pain as she faded into black. The bitter taste of herbs in her throat felt like poison, and the same nightmare played again: Terrible, glowing red eyes flashing out of the shadows, claws raking down her, then the painful thump as she landed in the sandy tunnel. Then the taste of herbs, and then the vivid dream played all over again.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, when she was awoken by the soft feeling of grass. Lifting her head, Yellowpaw realized she was standing in a grassy field. The pain was gone, and she felt strong once more.

"Where am I?" She whispered.

As she looked around, dark figures began to bound forward. She squinted, not used to seeing well, and saw that the dark figures were cats. They had strange red outlines, and they didn't seem like they fit into the starry place. Worst of all, their eyes glowed red, just like the creatures in Yellowpaw's dream. Scared, she backed away.

Suddenly, a pool opened up in front of her. Looking in, Yellowpaw saw a sky with a half-moon and stars. She felt peace from it.

And then the stars turned red.

The moon did, too, and the entire sky seemed to be washed with blood. Terrified, Yellowpaw blinked, and once the flash of black disappeared, she realized she was in a completely different place. A dark, twisted forest, where she was standing in a large bramble barrier. In it was starry warriors, who seemed like they would inhabitat the grassy fields. They were wailing, not in words, but in panic.

 A wave of agony crashed into Yellowpaw, and she sank to her knees. Blood spilled down her face, and she joined the cats' wails.

***

Fallenthroat shifted aside a plump rabbit, knowing that Yellowpaw would prefer mouse. She picked out a rather plump one. Please, Yellowpaw, be awake so you can eat. She felt terrible guilt at the moment, and she would feel better if she could just see her apprentice take a bite of some prey.

Ever since Yellowpaw had been brought to camp, Fallenthroat had been pacing anxiously, terrified of never seeing her apprentice again. Finally, though, Stormcloud had said she could go see her, so Fallenthroat was bringing her a treat.

I should've told her to not go out of camp by herself, Fallenthroat snapped at herself.

The terrible thoughts filled her mind as she staggered off to the medicine den. Maybe if she'd been a better mentor, or at least checked to see where Yellowpaw was going... she had only seen a glimpse of her wounds, and from what he had saw, it was bad. She was terrified to see what had become of her apprentice.

The tortoiseshell warrior slipped inside the den, spotting Weedtooth. The tabby tom was standing over Yellowpaw, who lay curled up in a moss nest.

"Did she move by herself?" Fallenthroat asked, hopeful.

"No." Weedtooth sighed.

Her body wracked by disappointment, Fallenthroat carried the mouse over to Yellowpaw. She dropped it and sat down beside the nest. "Will she be okay?" She murmered, trying not to nag the medicine cat. He's even more stressed than I am, She remembered. "I'm sorry to bother you..."

"Oh- no, it's fine." Weedtooth's voice was soft. "I think she'll be alright. We tried to get her to eat some borage, to bring down her fever- but she just threw it back up." He looked towards the mouse. "Maybe stuff some in there?"

Willing to try anything to save her friend, Fallenthroat took some borage Weedtooth handed to her and cut a slit in the mouse. Sorry, StarClan, She apologized, not wanting the starry cats to think she was playing with food. She stuffed the purple flowers in the tried her best to hide the slit in the mouse's fur.

Weedtooth nodded slowly and prodded Yellowpaw with a forepaw. "Yellowpaw?" He whispered. "Come on, Fallenthroat is here."

Yellowpaw whimpered and stirred. Even as she opened her only eye, they were dim and unfocused, and Fallenthroat couldn't help but look to the exposed flesh that was only half-covered by leaf bandages.

"Fa- Fallenthroat," Yellowpaw murmered, her voice cracked with pain.

Fallenthroat managed to crack a small smile. "Hey, girl," She purred. Pushing the mouse towards Yellowpaw, she tried to hide the terror in her gaze. "Eat this. I saved it for you."

Yellowpaw blinked and looked at the mouse, shifting her head to see it.

Fallenthroat winced, but Yellowpaw didn't seem to hear. She leaned forward to take a bite, and as soon as she swallowed, she began to retch. Weedtooth massaged her throat, and the food seemed to go down. Fallenthroat watched as the medicine cat repeated the process, and then all the mouse was gone.

"It tastes bitter," Yellowpaw rasped.

Fallenthroat blinked, relieved that her apprentice had gotten some of her usual boldness back. "You're imagining it," She soothed, running her tail gently along Yellowpaw's side. Yellowpaw let out a soft purr.

"Um..." The apprentice suddenly mewed, "I feel like I'm not seeing as much as I'm supposed to... it's dark on one side of my vision, and a edge of red."

Eyes widening, Fallenthroat realized Yellowpaw didn't know about her condition, or even what had happened. The Clan didn't, either, and for once Fallenthroat feared that Yellowpaw had forgotten who had done this to her. Was it wolves, or another cat? Fresh confusion settled in the torbie's belly.

"We'll tell you later," Weedtooth mewed. "For now, you should rest."

Yellowpaw blinked her one eye, and let out a pained and tired groan, as if she was realizing how bad she felt. "Okay," The ginger molly mewed, laying down her head. Fallenthroat gave her pelt soothing licks, and in a moment, the apprentice was asleep.

"You should rest, too." Weedtooth told Fallenthroat. The dark gray tabby didn't look away from his patient. "You're worrying yourself sick with grief."

Fallenthroat felt self-conscious, her pelt prickling along her spine. "I just wish I could've stopped this from happening," She told Weedtooth, her mew cracking. "I knew something like this would happen eventually, after what happened to Larchpaw, but not like this! And not to my own apprentice." Her eyes rounded with grief.

"It's not your fault," Weedtooth assured her.

Guilt still wracked Fallenthroat's body. "Thanks," She mewed half-heartedly, then turned and exited the den. Even as she walked into the clearing, the same thought still rang in her head, playing over and over again like a mocking bird: How could I let this happen?