Warriors: Poisoned Loyalty {COMPLETED}

Chapter 4

The sunlight filtering in the medicine den felt harsher today, as though even the warmth of the day couldn't chase away the chill Poppypool felt deep in her bones. That morning, she had woken in a cold sweat, Rowantail's voice still echoing in her mind, his dark promises swirling around her like a fog. She hadn't slept well, and her body ached with the weight of it all.

You've already crossed the line.

She pushed the thought away, forcing herself to focus on the task she'd zoned out in the middle of doing. She was sorting herbs- broom, goldenrod, horsetail- but her paws and movements felt sluggish, as if weighed down by something unseen. Her mind kept drifting back to the dream, to Rowantail's gleaming eyes and the certainty in his voice. She had killed once. She couldn't forget that.

"Poppypool?"

She jumped at the sound of Newtflake's voice, the suddenness of it pulling her from her thoughts. Her apprentice was standing in the entrance of their shared den, his dark gray-and-white pelt dappled with sunlight. His eyes were bright, but there was a hint of concern in them.

"I've gathered the yarrow you asked for," he said, setting down the bundle of herbs. "Are you alright? You seem...distant."

Poppypool blinked, trying to shake off the unease creeping up her spine. "I'm fine," she lied, her voice more clipped than she intended. "Just tired."

Newtflake's brow furrowed, but he didn't push the matter. Instead, he nodded and began to organize the herbs beside her. The silence between them was thick with unspoken tension. Poppypool's paws moved on pure instinct, though her mind was elsewhere and far away.

You know what it feels like to hold a cat's life in your paws.

Rowantail's words lingered, clawing at her thoughts. Every time she touched an herb, every time she tended to a wound, she couldn't help but wonder. Was she healing them...or deciding their fate? The power she held as a medicine cat suddenly felt darker, more dangerous.

Newtflake broke the silence again. "Stormfern wants to see you later. She mentioned something about checking Hawkflight's paw- it's still not healing right after that thorn got stuck the other day."

Poppypool's chest tightened at the mention of her brother. Hawkflight had always trusted her without question, but lately, even he seemed to notice the change in her. She saw it in the way he looked at her, the concern in his eyes whenever she spoke too quickly or turned away from his questions. Would he sense the darkness in her now?

"I'll check on him soon," she muttered, voice hollow.

Newtflake hesitated, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "Are you sure you don't want me to handle it? You've been working nonstop."

She almost said yes. The thought of seeing her brother, of looking him in the eye while knowing what she had done- what she was capable of- made her stomach churn. But the guilt of that one word, weak, clawed at her. She couldn't let anyone think she was losing control.

"No," she said, her voice sharper this time. "I'll handle it."

Newtflake dipped his head and left the den, his tail twitching with unspoken worries. As soon as he was gone, Poppypool collapsed back onto her haunches, her head hanging low. She felt like she was falling apart, her mind a mess of tangled thoughts and gnawing fears.

There's no turning back now.

What did that even mean? Rowantail had said it with such certainty, but she didn't know what he wanted from her. She hadn't done anything since Darkeyes, hadn't poisoned anyone, hadn't acted on the dark whispers in her head. But was that enough?

Poppypool's breath quickened as doubt surged within her. She felt like she was walking along a cliffside, one wrong step from falling into the darkness completely. The pressure was suffocating, and no matter how hard she tried to shake it, her father's voice always returned.

The weight of it all pressed down on her, and for the first time in moons, she allowed herself to wonder if maybe- just maybe- Rowantail was right.

*****

Later that day, Poppypool found herself at Hawkflight's side. He was lying in a patch of sunlight near the warriors' den, licking at his injured paw. When he saw her approach, his face brightened, but his eyes still held that same concern she'd been avoiding.

"Poppy," he said, his voice filled with warmth, but also something more. "You came. I wasn't sure you would."

She forced a smile, kneeling beside him to examine his paw. "I told Newtflake I'd handle it," she explained, avoiding his gaze.

Hawkflight watched her closely as she worked, his voice soft. "You've been... different lately."

Her paws faltered for just a moment, but she didn't look up. "I've been busy. The Clan needs me."

"I know," Hawkflight said quietly. "But you've been distant. Even with me."

The words cut deeper than she expected. She had always been close to her brother, but lately, the weight of what she had done- and what she still might do- had created a distance between them. She couldn't let him in. Not anymore.

"I'm fine," she said, too quickly, too defensively.

Hawkflight didn't push her. He simply nodded, though the sadness in his eyes was clear. "Alright," he said softly. "But I'm here if you ever want to talk."

Poppypool finished treating his paw, her heart heavy. As she rose to leave, Hawkflight's voice stopped her.

"Poppy," he called gently. "Whatever's going on...just know I trust you. You're a good cat."

The guilt that surged through her was overwhelming. She wanted to tell him, to confess everything, but the words wouldn't come. She wasn't a good cat. Not anymore.

Without another word, Poppypool turned and walked away, her paws heavy, her mind swirling with doubt. Hawkflight's trust was like a thorn in her heart, piercing deeper with every step. She wasn't sure how much longer she could bear it.

*****

That night, as she lay in her nest, Poppypool stared up at the roof of the den, unable to sleep. Her father's words echoed in her mind again and again, the darkness creeping closer with every passing day.

You don't have to fight it anymore.

And for the first time, she wasn't sure she had the strength to resist.