WITHERING HERBS || A Warriors Fanfiction

|| chapter thirty seven

Finchtuft stormed into camp, instantly heading for the fresh-kill pile. Owlpaw followed, at a steadier walking pace, behind him. The light brown warrior dropped his frog onto the pile and stalked off, fur brushed up angrily. Despite this, the dark brown apprentice could see his shoulders sagging as he headed off.

Owlpaw dropped his frog in the fresh-kill pile, too, and gazed around camp. Some cats were in camp, which included Lilybreeze and Robinstar, who were speaking in hushed tones near the medicine cat's den. Other cats, he presumed, were out hunting, or maybe setting borders. He didn't see Yellowspark in camp. Averting his golden gaze, he swept it around the camp again. He wanted to help, but his body ached from hunting.

His ears twitched as he picked up pieces of the medicine cat and leader's conversation.

"...broken... Won't be able to... stunned..." That was definitely Lilybreeze.

"Owlpaw, Finchtuft... frog... angry... sad or upset, what happened? ...Duckfrost?" And that was Robinstar's reply.

He wondered what they meant. Are they talking about me? And what happened with Finchtuft? They probably didn't know that Finchtuft and Heatherstar planned on having kits... They're just sitting around, gossiping about what happened. And what about Duckfrost? What did he do? Are they talking about a new mentor for me?

His dark brown neck fur rose and he thought bitterly, I don't want a new mentor. I want Sedgestorm as my mentor. Duckfrost won't be able to do anything as good as Sedgestorm.

The apprentice didn't notice that Shrewfoot had padded up to him, a frog swinging from his jaws. The pale cream tom flicked his tail and he trotted off to a corner of the camp. Owlpaw followed him, settling down next to the medicine cat.

"Did you catch this?" asked Shrewfoot, chewing on a piece of frog. He'd already torn away the slimy flesh of the creature and revealed the meat underneath.

Owlpaw nodded, staring at the frog. He twitched his whiskers before taking a bite. The meat was stretchy and almost flimsy, but it was delicious.

Shrewfoot smirked, "It's not too bad."

Twitching his tail in agreement, Owlpaw hungrily took another bite, and another, leaving a section for the medicine cat, who tugged it toward him with a swish and a swift movement of his paw. The cream tom finished the frog in a moment and he unsheathed his claws. The dark brown tom watched as he dug a small hole, nudging in the slimy flesh and the bones of the frog.

He murmured thanks to StarClan and Owlpaw did too. The two toms looked at the setting sun. It rested delicately on the horizon.

"How long was I out for?"

"A day."

That's it?

"Oh."

The two continued to stare at the sun. Its rays glimmered brightly in their reflecting gazes and it called to the sky for help. The darkness of twilight was slowly spreading, deep blues and jet blacks inking itself across the peachy sky.

"What happened to Finchtuft? He seemed upset after he came back with you."

"When we went to hunt in PetalClan's territory, he couldn't let go of the Clanmates that he lost. He told me... that he missed them all a lot. Especially Heatherstar... uh... they were close."

Shrewfoot flashed him a tiny smile and an edged glance as if saying to continue.

"They wanted to have kits someday, free of sickness. But she's gone."

"One day, Finchtuft will learn. He will teach his kits stories of old and days of sickness, and they won't believe that they ever happened. But they did, and everyone who died to let this..."

Shrewfoot waved his tail around at the patrol of cats that were arriving in camp. Yellowspark trotted confidently in.

"...RoseClan. Everyone who died to let RoseClan happen will not be forgotten. Never."

"Except for-" It was Mossheart, voice echoing to reach Owlpaw's ears.

"Don't," warned Shrewfoot, a growl tinging his tone. The warrior grumbled something inaudible.

Flintpath approached Owlpaw and Shrewfoot and sat down. The warrior's eyes glimmered sadly, trailing to the nursery and back.

"I miss Briarstripe. What if she could be here, with me and our kits?"

Oh, Briarstripe.

Instantly memories of all of the MudClan cats that had died sprung into his mind.

His brother. Father. Mother. Sister. Friends. His friend's families. Everyone. Everyone except him. And Flintpath. And Sedgestorm, Meadowdapple, and Heronleap. Stonestar. And Hazelberry. He could almost hear her venom-laced voice.

A sigh escaped him. So many cats were lost to the sands of time because hardly anyone could've survived to tell their stories.

And with a twitch of his tail, Owlpaw realized he easily could've been one of them. So could've anyone, really.

Yellowspark's commanding voice broke into his thoughts. He realized Shrewfoot and Flintpath had an entire conversation that he'd missed.

"...borders! Be sure to mark them. All of them are in effect. We want to be sure that they are in the correct places. The old borders from the old Clans will eventually be washed away, by rain or something else, but they do not need to be marked anymore. The four Clans are no more. We will rule this land as gracefully and firmly as our ancestors did."

"RoseClan! RoseClan!" cheered a few cats.

I'll never forget my Clanmates. But I can't dwell on the past.

Hey, I sound like Finchtuft. Come on, Owlpaw.

He felt a nudge from his left.

"Owlpaw? Are you up for collecting herbs tomorrow? We don't have to go if you don't want to. Especially if you're still feeling sick. Please tell me if you're still feeling sick," Shrewfoot's voice broke his thoughts, imploring and curious.

The apprentice nodded, "Okay. Flintpath, are you coming?" 

"No, I promised to help... uh..." Flintpath trailed off, "Uh... Yellowspark... with the... borders."

Shrewfoot flashed Owlpaw an amused glance before dipping his head. "I understand," he turned to Owlpaw, "Be sure to get a lot of sleep."

"I will," promised Owlpaw, rising to his paws.

He meant it.