Rainystripe woke to an unfamiliar green haze. Where am I? She thought. Then memory hit her like a blow. She wasn’t in her den, she was in the nursery. Instead of Darkstorm’s gentle breath, she heard Poppyfrost’s barely audible snores. Sunlight streamed through the intertwined leaves and vines, making the sleepy light that Rainystripe had noticed when she awoke. Suddenly her ears were straight and alert. Pawsteps were crunching outside. Ignoring her sore limbs, Rainystripe pushed herself to her paws and stepped toward the entrance. Vines quivered and Ashclaw’s gray head popped into view.
“Hello Rainystripe!” He glanced toward Poppyfrost. “I guess she is still sleeping?”
Rainystripe nodded and suddenly noticed the mouse at Ashclaw’s paws. Apparently Darkstorm wasn’t the only cat to bring fresh kill to his mate.
Ashclaw followed her gaze and shuffled his paws ashamedly. “Would you like to share some fresh kill?”
Rainystripe smiled, her mouth filling with saliva at the thought of prey. “I’d be glad to,”
She followed Ashclaw into the open and laid facing the camp. Birdsong echoed from the trees and butterflies flew past the pair.
Rainystripe drew a deep breath. “Isn’t it a beautiful day!”
Ashclaw nodded and took a bite of the mouse. “How close do you think Poppyfrost is to having her kits?”
Rainystripe laughed. “Starclan knows, my friend. But I’m sure Leafsong would give you a closer estimate.”
Ashclaw grunted half-heartedly. “I’m sure she would,”
They continued sharing tongues in silence, letting the beauty of the day soak in. Soon Poppyfrost stumbled sleepily out of the den, her belly swollen hugely and swaying.
“Fresh kill?” Ashclaw nudged his half of the mouse towards his mate.
Poppyfrost twitched her tail affectionately and sat hungrily to work.
“Ashclaw!” The trumpeting meow sounded in the clearing. Ashclaw jumped and scurried to Sunstar, who was the one who had called him. Sunstar said something, and led him to a group of waiting cats.
“He must be going on a patrol,” Rainystripe meowed thoughtfully.
Poppyfrost jerked up her head. “Huh? Er, what’s that?”
“I said, ‘Ashclaw must be going on patrol,’” Rainystripe told her scathingly.
“Oh, sorry,” Poppyfrost jumped back to the mouse she was eating without another thought about the subject.
“Shouldn’t you be more worried about him?” Rainystripe thought back to the countless hours she had spent worrying about Darkstorm.
“I guess. He doesn’t seem mind me not worrying about him.”
Rainystripe grunted and stood. “Sorry, it was none of my business to ask,”
“Oh, it’s okay,” Poppyfrost finished her meal and began to wash herself. “I don’t mind,”
Rainystripe dismissed herself and padded sullenly away. Even though Poppyfrost didn’t seem to be worried about Ashclaw, Rainystripe was worried about Darkstorm. She walked, rather painfully, across the clearing to the Medicine Den. Entering the Medicine tunnel she paused when she came to the split.
“Darkstorm?” Rainystripe’s hesitant mew echoed from the walls and filled the whole cavern.
A faint meow answered her. “Come in, Rainystripe,”
Even though the tunnel distorted the sound, Rainystripe could tell that the voice was not Darkstorm’s. Her tabby mate lay prostrate on the floor, looking asleep, and Leafsong leaned over him.
“Come in!” Leafsong repeated her command.
Rainystripe obeyed and padded over to the pair, stifling her breath, the cavern air was musty and stale. As she neared Darkstorm, she noticed that his breathing sounded easier, his sides mot heaving for every breath. Leafsong pulled away from the brown warrior and sat up. “It seems as if he is healing. He had White Cough, but now he is much better. We should be thankful that no other cat got the illness.”
Rainystripe gasped. Green Cough? “That is the lesser one, isn’t it? White Cough is worse, right?”
“Yes,” Leafsong’s mew was steady.
Just then, coughs erupted from outside. In an instant, Leafsong was on her feet and at the entrance. “I’ve go to see what that is,” She sated before vanishing. Rainystripe followed her, weariness forgotten. What she saw when she emerged was dumbfounding. Blazewing, Adderface, Ashclaw, Sunstar and Rabbitnose were spitting and coughing, their noses running grotesquely.
“What happened?” Leafsong was just asking the obvious question when Rainystripe padded up to the patrol.
Sunstar stood weakly. “It was my fault, really. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. I didn’t see that the tree was sagging. It had a lot of snow on it, and, well, when we laid the scent markers, the whole drift fell on us. I took a while for us to get out, but when we did we,” He was interrupted by a series of coughs from himself. “took off straight for camp. But we were all so weak that we kept stumbling and falling in more drifts.” The ashamed leader looked at his feet, embarrassed that he had led his patrol into sickness.
Leafsong paced in front of them, furious. “How could you lead an entire patrol into a snow drift? Don’t you have the sense of a mouse?” She stormed and steamed as she paced in front of the patrol, ranting about their lack of sense. “And in the dead of winter, too! How could you me so mouse-brained? I ought to-”
“Leafsong.” Rainystripe’s meow broke off the exasperated she-cat’s rant. “They just didn’t see it. All cats make mistakes.”
Leafsong glared at her, but stopped. “All of you to my den. Now.”
She led the weary cats into the sick cave and they, one-by-one, disappeared.
