Shadowstripe's Treachery

Chapter 8

The sound of coughing echoed through the small clearing in the camp. Less than a quarter moon had passed and half of the clan had come down with the case of whitecough. Scarface, who had gotten it first, had the worst of it and Russetleaf was constantly keeping an eye on him to make sure it didn't turn into greencough. Juniperheart hadn't left Scarface's side the whole time that he was in the medicine cat den.

Shadowpaw had gotten a small case of it, but he quickly got over it after he took the medicine. Larkpaw wasn't as lucky, and she was stuck in Russetleaf's den for three days straight. Russetleaf had worked extra hard to make sure that there was no fatalities from greencough this season, and so far she had succeeded.

Shadowpaw had done a lot of extra work since Littlestep and Ravenfeather moved out of the apprentices den and Oakpaw and Larkpaw were sick. He and Snowpaw were the only two cats in the apprentices den, and he had made a point to sleep as far away from her as possible. He always came up with the excuse of, "I just got over the sickness, and I don't want to pass it on to you." And it had worked every night.

Shadowpaw came in to the camp with a mouthful of fresh kill. He placed it in the fresh kill pile and grudgingly picked out some to give to Russetleaf on Badgerclaw's command. More snow had started to fall and he shook the flurries off of his dark tabby pelt.

"Russetleaf!" He called from outside the medicine cat den. I'm not going in there with all those sick cats! "Russetleaf!" He called again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" He finally heard a reply. Russetleaf emerged from her den, looking frazzled with her red fur unkempt and her eyes tired and unfocused. "What is it? Are you sick again?"

"Uh, no." He mumbled through a mouthful of prey, "I brought you this." He dropped a scrawny squirrel at her feet.

Russetleaf let out an exhausted sigh, "Thank you, Shadowpaw. I will save it for later." She picked it up and hurried back in her den.

She is probably not going to eat it... he rolled his eyes as he walked away. He went to go look for his mentor, but he saw him conversing with Birchstar and so he shrugged, "He probably wouldn't mind if I ate a little something." He decided, heading towards the fresh kill pile.

"Littlestep, you have to eat something!" He heard Ravenfeather meow. He pricked his ears to listen to their conversation.

Littlestep shook his head, "No, I'm fine. Honestly, Ravenfeather, you're treating me like a kit! There are cats that need it more than I do."

"But you haven't eaten in days!" Ravenfeather argued desperately.

"Well, Badgerclaw hasn't eaten in a while either, and neither has Birchstar." Littlestep pointed out.

"But they're fat! You're not." She meowed. "Please eat something. I'm really worried about you!"

"No." He shook his head stubbornly, "I will not."

"I'm not going to let you leave until you eat." She narrowed her eyes.

"Ravenfeather, will you just DROP IT?!" Littlestep snapped, his fur bristling. Shadowpaw jumped back in surprise. "I am not hungry, and I do not want you make a big-" he broke out into a fit of coughing before he could finish his sentence.

Ravenfeather, her eyes filled with hurt, nodded and slowly backed away. "Fine, it's your health, not mine..." she mewed, walking away. She shoved past Shadowpaw and dissapeared into the warriors den.

Shadowpaw had never seen Littlestep snap at anyone before. He cautiously padded over to the fresh kill pile and picked out a small mouse. Littlestep looked up.