ShadowClan has never faced such an awful leaf-bare. But now, cats are starving and falling dead to a new illness. Desperate to survive this all and figure out what is happening, the ShadowClan medicine cat known as Hemlockfoot resorts to eating his...
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Morning sunlight trickled through the entrance of the medicine den. Hemlockfoot woke up, blinking away his sleepiness. Located nearby in the den was Rainpaw, who seemed to be sound asleep after the meeting last night.
"Wake up, Rainpaw," Hemlockfoot warned. "You can't spend all your days sleeping in like this."
Rainpaw grunted and rolled over, turning his back to Hemlockfoot. "We stayed up all night talking about a stupid disease... let me sleep in a little."
The older tom rolled his eyes. "There's a lot for you to learn. The sooner we get it done, the sooner you can get your name and I can retire."
Rainpaw didn't respond other than let out a quiet snore. Hemlockfoot sighed and sat down, watching the young tom. He didn't understand how anyone could sleep so heavily, especially at such a young age.
Hemlockfoot could feel his stomach gnawing away at him. It had been at least a day since he'd last eaten. The fear of starvation began to overwhelm him. He'd have to eat eventually or else he'd end up dead like the others. Maybe the forest would have something more to offer me? He thought to himself. Probably a few mice or birds.
Hemlockfoot left the den and greeted Crowshade with a good morning. Slipping out of camp, Hemlockfoot made his way to the twoleg place border. Surely prey would have to be there considering how much trash the twolegs left around.
The stale scent of a fox clung to the icy air. Normally, Hemlockfoot would have been worried about this. But something about the peaceful morning light seemed to push away those fears. The tom looked up at the sky, noticing a few dark clouds in the distance.
"I'm so sick of the snow," he grumbled to himself. "I rather eat fish than freeze like this."
Ahead of him, Hemlockfoot could make out the shape of a frail looking rabbit. He crept forward slowly, hoping his lighter colored pelt would help aid in camouflaging him.
Just as he began to get closer though, a loud and cracky yowl split the air. A ginger cat fell out from the bushes near the rabbit, causing it to dart off into its tunnel.
"Help me..." coughed the cat. "Please..."
Hemlockfoot flicked his tail, aggravated to have lost such a valuable piece of prey. He felt unbelievably hungry, especially after walking so far from camp just to lose a rabbit.
The medicine cat sat down and licked his lips. Was this some sick rogue? Maybe a RiverClan trick? The tom seemed extremely frail though, so maybe it wasn't either of those.
"Hello?" Hemlockfoot asked. "Who are you?"
The cat didn't seem to notice him. Perhaps the wind was too loud, or he was deaf and confused. Regardless, being ignored like this sent the medicine cat's blood boiling. He narrowed his eyes. Whoever this cat was, he wasn't going to get out of this without getting a good scolding.
