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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Only three days had passed since Hemlockfoot had murdered and eaten the elderly tom. And during those three days, he had begun getting extremely stressed. He felt an empty feeling on his stomach, and at times during the day when he'd remember what he did, he felt as if he was choking. It only seemed to get worse as the days went on.
"You're up early," Hemlockfoot remarked as he noticed Rainpaw.
The apprentice was watching him from a distance, his eyes almost glowing in the darkness of the den. "I feel like something is going on that you're not telling me about."
The medicine cat froze. "Nothing more than anxiety."
Rainpaw frowned. "Is it that bad? I thought you said you were getting better..."
He let out a forced laugh. "You can't just cure anxiety, Rainpaw. Sure, you can find ways to manage it, but it's always going to be there."
"Still... I thought you said you were managing it just fine."
"I was but then this stupid bloodcough showed up and has me worrying about everyone. Nobody seems to actually care that much except the medicine cats," Hemlockfoot huffed.
Rainpaw nodded. "It's because ShadowClan hasn't seen the worst of it yet. I keep dreaming about it but never any cures for it. I sometimes wonder if StarClan wants us to all die off."
Hemlockfoot hadn't thought of it that way. But why would StarClan be that evil? He let out a heavy sigh and curled his tail around his paws, trying to clear the thought from his mind.
"If you're going to be that nervous about our ancestors, maybe you shouldn't be a medicine cat. You should always have faith in StarClan," the older tom finally said. "After all, we've come this far, so not believing in them now wouldn't do us any good."
The apprentice got up from his nest and made his way over to the older medicine cat. "How are your injuries? And do you think those kittypets will cause trouble for ShadowClan?"
They won't cause problems because they don't exist. Unless my imagination comes to life, then you're all safe for now, Hemlockfoot thought.
"I doubt they'll come into the territory. Like I said, I went past the border when I got a whiff of something nice. They just happened to see me and got a bit territorial. I can't really blame them."
The blue-gray tom narrowed his eyes. Was he catching on to Hemlockfoot? The older tom kept his gaze locked with his apprentice, hoping there wouldn't be more questions. Surely his apprentice wouldn't ever assume something like murder.
"You smell funny."
Hemlockfoot's pelt felt like it was on fire. What did Rainpaw just say? "Excuse me?"
Rainpaw laughed and walked out of the den, his tail swishing behind him. "You still smell like mud and moss and the RiverClan border. Go wash off in the lake or something."
The tom got up and sniffed his sides. He did smell awful. Is this bloodcough? he thought to himself. We haven't had any cases but maybe it smells like this. What if I am sick? Could you even catch something like this from eating someone else?
Silently and quickly, he left the den. He could see Rainpaw chatting away with Morningpaw and Sagedusk. If he did die from this disease, at least Rainpaw would be able to look after everyone. His naming ceremony would be coming up soon, and that would mean Hemlockfoot could pass on peacefully. Despite his feelings of peace and joy, the fear of dying of starvation or even disease began to creep into the back of his mind.
No, the medicine cat thought, I will not let myself die this way. I refuse to.
